#fic: pre-canon

[quietwingsinthesky]

Azazel speaking to Lucifer through the bars of the Cage.

|| AO3 || DW || FFNet || PF || SW || WC: 100

Azazel is not content in Hell, but herein lies their domain, left to them by their Lord.

He doesn’t get too close, doesn’t dare, because he’s many things and as bold as Lilith is not one of them, but he kneels to plead his case, “I want to walk the Earth, to open the gates for our freedom and yours, and when I do-“

When you have crawled your way out, rings the very bars themselves, only then will I ask for a favor and not before, how the doubt of the Father stings, and you will not fail me.

(Enjoyed it? Any interaction is welcomed. You can even support me on Ko-Fi <3)

[milktrician]

(what the. who threw a wife plot device in the middle of a peak lord meeting)

i thought about this bit at the end of the airplane extras the other day. bro why are you looking at your coworkers like that rn

[necrotic-nephilim]

I think what I love the most about Reverse Robin AU TimJay is the absolute potential for hero worship with Jason toward Tim. In canon we often forget that Tim didn't really care for Jason as Robin, meanwhile as I never shut up about, Jason has been weirdly respecting and obsessed with Tim since finding out about Tim's existence. So if you flip their order, make Tim Red Hood and make Jason Red Robin, there's so much room for hero worship from Jason.

As Robin, Jason has always teetered that edge of being pro-murder or not. Whether you believe he killed Felipe or not, even in his Post-Crisis introduction as Robin, he almost kills Two Face. Those concepts of lethal justice have always been brewing inside him, just reigned in by Bruce. So if you have Robin!Jason witnessing Red Hood!Tim start killing people and quickly making noticeable change in the landscape of gangs in Gotham, Jason would take quick notice. I think Tim as Red Hood would still be lethal, but there'd be a different application than Jason's Red Hood. Heads in duffle bags isn't Tim's style, even if he kills. I think you'd see something much more akin to that time Tim almost killed Boomerang, where it's such an elaborately thought out set up, it realistically doesn't even look like Tim killed anyone. It'd take months for Bruce to connect this string of deaths as anything other than coincidental, let alone link them to Red Hood. And Jason is wickedly smart, even as Robin. Jason, putting those pieces together before Bruce does and witnessing the undeniable positive change for Gotham it's enacting? Robin!Jason would be incredibly drawn in by that, and then even more-so, a Red Robin!Jason who has to grapple with being replaced to make room for the next Robin would I think, in anger, turn to Red Hood. And Tim would push him away at first, his plans don't have room for a scorned teenager who's trying to get back at Bruce and Nightwing!Damian like this- but I think Jason would wear him down. Prove to Tim that Jason can think on his wavelength.

Slightly related, what interests me about Red Hood!Tim is how it'd implicate his closeness to Ra's. Jason is taken into the League by Talia in Lost Days and Ra's doesn't necessarily approve of Jason's presence, especially not of Talia dunking him in the Pit, but Ra's has always canonically been A Little Weird about Tim. I think in a world Tim dies as the second Robin, it would be Ra's who dunks Tim to preserve his mind that Ra's thinks shouldn't be wasted, and you have the potential for 'apprentice of Ra's' Tim wrapped up in it all, even without him experience the Red Robin arc. So when it's Jason as Red Robin, instead of him going to Ra's when he's scorned by the Batfamily, he goes to Tim. The person he once idolized, because I think Tim would've been Jason's Robin. Smart, competent, a strong legacy to live up to. And now he's back, and he's pro-killing, an edge that Jason has always teetered on and would feel even closer to when he's replaced by a young Dick. I think Tim wouldn't ever be able to get rid of Jason.

Then on Tim's side, I think his reaction to being replaced after his death would be a complicated one. Objectively, being the Robin who believes Batman needs a Robin, he'd respect the logic and know Bruce was always going to replace him eventually. But still, there's always going to be that instinctual emotional reaction of betrayal and replacement. I think he'd view Jason at first with anger and distance, but then, seeing Jason as this street kid with begrudging potential, I could see Red Hood!Tim testing Jason. Constantly throwing things at Jason, seeing how he reacts, if he lives up to being Robin. Tim has a need for analyzing people, understanding their strengths and weaknesses. And he seems the Robin mantle very uniquely, he'd need to have it proven to him that Jason can handle it.

So you would have this dynamic of Jason hero worshipping Tim, slowly believing in Tim's methodology. While Tim is at first dismissive of him, but then starts to test him, see what makes this kid tick. And I think the TimJay potential of Jason trying to prove himself to Tim could be Neat.

[siffrins-therapist]

opening scene in ch 7 of my vampire!sif wip

[klanced]

this is why i never read voltron fanfic 💀

[morganski-19]

Chills Right to the Marrow Part 29

ao3 link| part 1 . . . part 26, part 27, part 28

Dustin’s not exactly sure what happened. He was patiently waiting for Steve to meet him in the lobby, but it’s been almost a half hour, and Dustin has no idea where he is. He already went back to check in Eddie’s room, but nothing. Then outside, nothing again. And Steve would never leave his stranded, so it can’t be that.

Which leaves Dustin completely alone, eating a Snickers bar that he got from the vending machine because they were out of Three Musketeers. The second one he got for Steve slowly melting in his pocket. Wondering if it was at the level where he had to go check under the bathroom stalls to see if any of the feet were wearing Steve’s shoes.

But he can at least be a little bit saner and go double check Eddie’s room again. Maybe Steve couldn’t find him and went back there to look. That would be the logical thing to do.

When Dustin opens the door, Steve has the chair pulled up close to Eddie’s bed hunched over and looking like he’s about to cry. Eddie’s looks like halfway there himself. Both of them jumping to hide that fact when Dustin entered.

“I didn’t know where you went,” Dustin says. Not sure whether to ignore or acknowledge what he just walked into. “I thought we were going to go home.”

Steve shakes his head gently, pressing his eyes shut like it will stop the tears from flowing. “Yeah, sorry. Could you just give me a second? I was just talking to Eddie about something.”

“It’s ok,” Eddie brushes off with his hand. “Take the kid home, we can talk about this later.”

“Are you sure? He can wait another minute-.”

“I’m sure. We’re good, ok. Go home.” Eddie looks at him like he really means what he’s saying. Not just pretending for both of their benefit. Not again.

Steve nods. Standing and pushing the chair back in place against the wall. “I’ll see you later then.”

Eddie waves Steve over and whispers something before letting him leave. Steve just snorts and smiles at whatever it is. Whispering something back before finally ushering Dustin out of the room. Some sort of weird energy radiating off of him in the car ride home. A mix between happy and sad that Dustin doesn’t understand.

“What was that about?” Dustin asks. Trying to do it without a confrontational tone.

Steve shrugs. “We just had something to talk about, that’s all.”

Dustin nods. “But you’re both ok, right? It looked like you were both about to cry.”

He’s trying to be gentle about the topic. Trying to calm the way he can ask about things. So it doesn’t sound like he’s pressuring his way into situations. That way people can feel like they can open up to him, and tell him what’s going on. Instead of just brushing it off and telling him it’s not his problem.

Because it was his problem. This was his friend. This was his family. He didn’t have siblings to fight through all of this with. He didn’t have parents who he could tell these things too. For the most part, it’s been Steve that he’s talked to about all this. It’s been Steve that he radioed in the middle of the night when he was so scared he couldn’t breathe. Or when he needed advice about school problems. Or anything.

Somewhere along the line, Steve became the sibling he fought through stuff with. That’s been a sure fact since he helped Dustin get ready for the Snowball. They were one of the mini units in the bigger organization.

It hurt when Steve hid things from him out of “protection”. Dustin didn’t need protecting, he needed transparency. He needed for Steve to know that Dustin’s here for him. Just as much as Steve’s there for Dustin. This was a two-way street.

“We were, kinda,” Steve says after a long break of silence.

“Are you ok?”

Steve puts the car in park, turning to Dustin with an almost relieved expression. “Yeah. I am.”

“Ok.” Dusting is choosing to trust that Steve would tell him if he wasn’t. “Just, if you start to feel not ok, you know you can talk to me about it. I’ll listen.”

“I know.”

There’s a knock at Dustin’s window. His mom waving hello with a gentle smile. Dustin knows why, he always knows why. It’s to invite Steve in to have dinner that he’ll refuse three times before giving in. He’s over there for dinner more nights that he would probably admit.

“Hi, Miss Henderson,” Steve says when he rolls down the window.

“Hello. I haven’t seen you in a while, Steve. Why don’t you come in for dinner?”

That’s a lie, she saw him two days ago when she returned a movie at Family Video.

Steve lets out a small huff, catching her on her lie. “I appreciate it, but I really should be heading home. I don’t want to bother you.”

“Oh, it’d be no bother at all. It’s the least I can do for all the time you drive Dustin around.”

Dustin rolls his eyes as Steve rolls out another excuse. His mother already coming up with a response that negates the excuse entirely. Steve takes a deep breath and turns the car off, accepting the dinner invitation.

He only refused twice this time. Steve is starting to be worn down.

They go inside and are almost immediately ushered to the table. Set with three places each with their favorite sodas. Because there wasn’t an option for Steve to not be here for dinner, and the three of them knew it. It was just in Steve’s nature to try and refuse.

Even though he knows that once Steve steps through the doors of the Henderson house, he never wants to leave it. It’s much smaller than his house, and a lot more cluttered. But that’s what makes it warm. Every time he walked into his house after an upside down event, with all of this clutter and décor surrounding him, he never felt more relief in his life. He was home.

Whenever he visits one of the other guys’ houses, that feeling is mirrored in its own way. That same feeling wasn’t there whenever he went to Steve’s house.

Dustin remembers the first time Steve ever let him come over. The house was pretty much what he was expecting. High ceilings and fancy flourishes. A room full of furniture no one was allowed to sit on and carpets that couldn’t be walked on with shoes. But there was something wrong with it. The house was only a home when Steve was in it.

Without Steve, it would feel like no one lived there. The walls only had a few pictures on them, and there were more shut doors than open ones. The kitchen sink only ever had a few dishes in it, and the couch only had one cushion with a permanent dent. The whole of it felt so empty.

The worst part was that Steve knew it to. It was a nice place to throw get togethers. It was nice to look at and imagine living there. But Dustin felt the pull from Steve to stay anywhere else for just a second longer. So he didn’t have to go to a place that didn’t feel like home to him.

It’s part of the reason that his mom invites him over to dinner so much. When Dustin told her about how empty his house was, they decided to build Steve a place in theirs. They didn’t have a lot of space, but it was easy for them to make it feel like there was more. For Steve to have his own coat hook when he came over, and a place to put his shoes. A chair at the table that was always his, and his own blanket when they had movie nights.

Dustin wanted Steve to know that this could be his home if he needed it to be. And he knows that it worked. He can see it in the way that Steve relaxes every time he walks through the door. How he is nothing but himself when he’s here.

But eventually he has to leave and go home. He hugs Claudia goodbye and tries to refuse the container of leftovers shoved into his hands. Even though Dustin knows he’s grateful for it. Steve says goodbye to Dustin with a brief hug and a ruffle to his curls. And then he leaves.

Dustin wishes he didn’t have to.

tag list (capping at 100, only 2 spots left): @the-they-who-nerded, @insteviewetrust, @croatoan-like-its-hot, @jettestar,

@tinyplanet95, @steddie-as-they-go, @slv-333, @littlecelestialmoth, @thatonebadideapanda,

@fandomsanddeath, @marismorar, @wonderland-girl143-blog, @glass-bottle03, @gutterflower77,

@here4thetrama, @goodolefashionedloverboi, @jaytriesstuff, @cryptid-system, @manda-panda-monium,

@resident-gay-bitch, @anaibis, @xxsutherlandxx, @forevermineliv, @mugloversonly,

@gregre369, @n0-1-important, @different-tale-student, @spectrum-spectre, @tartarusknight,

@devondespresso, @swimmingbirdrunningrock, @cheertain, @anti-ozzie, @autumncrocusandladybug,

@greeniebean911, @cr0w-culture, @stillfullofshit, @connected-dots, @daisynotquake,

@morgannotlefay, @a-little-unsteddie, @dolphincliffs, @maskofmirrors, @me-and-my-sloth,

@papergrenade, @waelkyring, @sweetheartprincess28, @katouasobj, @astercomoasflores

[cupidscrule]

SIT STILL !

Dad!gojo and kid!reader

Warning - none pure fluff

(⁠≧⁠▽⁠≦⁠) A/N. This isn't an x reader thing just ignre the tags 😭 reader in gn

WC 500

"mm Sato- Stop movin' around" you muttered down at him holding his face. He sat in a small chair which surprisingly didn't immediately break under him, it was a dingy pink plastic one with hearts on it. Got it for your birthday but it got boring only playing with yourself! So that's why now, Satoru Gojo, the world's strongest sorcerer, his eyes closed with a shiny glittery powder covering them.

"Sorryyy" he says in an exaggerated voice with a stupid smirk on his face. You just stared down at him, in disappointment.

"Just drop moving! Sit still.." you say brows furrowed, picking up the eyeshadow palette from behind you, it was a pretty nice set up you'd say. Had a nice vanity, rose coloured desk, an array of 'supplies'. Talking the fluffy brush to his face and gently padding it over his lid. You were kinda mad at him because you didn't have any white eyeliner or lashes to match his, but you made it with what you had..?

"Okay open your eyes I need to do your lashes.." you say a pout on your face, he opened his eyes and you took the little prickly brush and tried to not poke his eyes out, didn't really matter if he went blind in the process though.

It was cakey, but it was pretty to you, picking up the bigger brush and dunking it in the pink palette

"Okay! Almost done-" you say squinting your eyes, Satoru was still just sitting there with a small smile on his face before you very aggressively rubbed the pink stuff on his cheeks and nose, unfortunately for him this stuff was scented so when you brought it over his nose he was trying his hardest not to sneeze but.

"DAD!"

"M'SORRY-"

"YOU MESSED ME UP"

God he was annoying, but alas you've come to the final step, lips. Debating what colour would be the best, red? Pink? Purple? Black?

Landed on red, basic but it was pretty. "Okay now push your lips like you're gonna kiss " you tell him sternly holding out the tube, he listens trying to not laugh. God knows what will happen if he makes a sound, you drag it over his pale lips messily adding the colour.

"Now for accessories!"

"Hey you just said you wanted to do this makeup stuff-"

"Well I changed my mind, stay still again-"

Epilogue lmfoaia

You were sitting there now with him at the tiny tea table, of course there wasn't actually any tea or even water. Satoru suggested he actually gets something for you two to drink during this 'game' but that would just kill the mood..

He's sitting there with a barely fitting white tutu over his pants, his hair in poorly done pigtails, and to top it off little bows with a crown.

Knock knock knock

"I'll get it-" you mutter standing up from your chair tiptoeing to the door, to see suguru.

"Where's Satoru-"

"I'm here."

"What happened."

"ISN'T HE PRETTYY!!"

[yumenoberu]

Baby Steps

Kyoya Ootori x fem!reader (kind of Gen)

summary: Middle school 3rd year Kyoya Ootori lives through another mundane day. Bored from the dull lectures, he distracts himself, scanning the classroom and sees Y/n. Compelled by the elegant scene he is witnessing, he picks up his pen and starts sketching. Could it be that our young Shadow King is displaying an innocent act of fascination, with maybe even a twinge of affection for the girl?

word count: 1.8k words

warnings: none!!

published: 10/20/24

author’s note: I liked the idea of exploring the version of Kyoya that was more expressive because he was just developing back in middle school. Also always wanted to see the artistic side of him depicted more, cuz even if we don’t see it besides his solo episode, it exists! Anyways, this one is more of a gen fic rather than a romantic one but I’m sure you can see it can lead to something much more, it’s cute!! Hope this one brings a smile to your face like it did for me ☺️

The clock tower chimed, signaling the next set of classes after the lunch break. The students of Ouran Middle School’s 3rd year Class A break up their fleeting conversations and file back to their assigned seats, each readying themselves to endure another few grueling hours of class discussions and worksheet completion.

The day had been relatively mundane for Kyoya, aside from the occasional disruption of his peace by none other than his lovable moron of a best friend, Tamaki, there was nothing in his day that particularly stood out to him. The topics tackled during class, he understood right away, he had no homework or projects that had to be done, and so the only thing that was worth looking forward to was… Well, if he thought about it, he wouldn’t come up with anything.

Suffice to say, Kyoya was bored.

“Ms. Jounoichi, kindly read the 3rd paragraph out for us.” The teacher in front instructed.

“Yes, Sir.” Ayame swiftly replied as she stood from her seat and recited the passage from her textbook.

Out of sheer disinterest from the topic, Kyoya passively listened and let the other half of his mind ponder on any vanishing thought.

His eyes traveled from across the room aimlessly, mindlessly looking for something to distract him from his boredom. His gaze eventually landed on the window on the other side of the room and onto Y/n L/n’s desk.

Kyoya was never close to Y/n. Even though they’ve been classmates since he’d first attended Ouran Academy, both of them had always been reserved and quiet, and so neither of them had made efforts to get acquainted with the other.

It remained that way until their dynamic drastically shifted that very year when Tamaki waltzed into their lives.

The guy seemed to behold a certain power to connect with even the most difficult people. Kyoya could attest to this, as he himself was brought out by the bubbling blonde. Y/n was similarly reached out by Tamaki and soon enough, the trio formed an iconic friendship.

But even when that was the case, Kyoya and Y/n were still closed off from each other. Tamaki was clearly the only common ground between them.

Kyoya was comfortable with the arrangement. Though, he knew that Y/n was starting to make moves to genuinely befriend him; He wasn't ready to break down his walls to a friend of a friend just yet, nor was he willing to acknowledge that it was his own stubbornness that’s causing this strain.

His thoughts simmered down, focusing instead on observing her. He noticed she looked identically disinterested, judging by how she silently tapped her fingers against her blank notebook, as she drew out shallow breaths and watched the front with glossed eyes.

She was sitting perfectly still, so much so that one can even mistake the scene he was witnessing with a framed image.

As Kyoya continued, he paid attention to how perfectly the lighting from the window next to her illuminated her features.

The afternoon sun shone on her like a spotlight. From her side profile, the light that bounced off of her hair almost formed a halo over the crown of her head. Her eyes radiated, its color brightened by the day. Her nose, casted a tiny shadow over the side accentuating the contour of her cheeks. Her lips, charmingly pinkish and rounded. Stray hairs peeking from the sides of her head glinted like mirrors, perfectly framing her delicate face.

He wasn’t going to admit it to himself, but it was indeed a stunning sight.

Turning back to his own desk, Kyoya casually picks up his neglected pen and his unused notebook, bringing the stationary up closer to his chest, turning back to Y/n’s direction and begins sketching.

The nib of the pen gently glides across the smooth surface of the paper, creating thin lines that comprise the outline of his drawing. His eyes slowly switch between the notebook and the subject, carefully examining and then applying, repeating this process a number of times in an attempt to capture the scene with flawless accuracy.

He continues on for the remainder of the class. Jotting down all the little details with intention, his mind completely detached from the lecture. He was focused, dedicated to completing his render.

Eventually the end of the day approaches, their last class concludes, they bid their teacher farewell, and the class is dismissed.

Kyoya peeks at the portrait of Y/n he made for a final time before packing his belongings. He reaches for his school bag and grabs his notebook to shut it closed but then it’s unexpectedly pulled out of his hands.

Surprised, he looks to his right, looking up at the culprit and sees Tamaki.

“Tamaki. What are you-“ Kyoya starts, questioning him for his actions but is cut off.

“I didn’t know you could draw so we’ll…” Tamaki admires the drawing, voiced uncharacteristically hushed in his awe.

“Hey Y/n!” Before Kyoya could explain, Tamaki skips happily toward his other best friend on the other side of the room while flailing the notebook in the air.

At this point, Kyoya knew it was best to not interfere with the blonde’s antics, knowing he’ll just be putting himself in an even more troublesome spot if he showed any apprehensiveness toward the situation. Even so, he can’t help but feel flustered and irritated. He could do nothing now but stay silent, gauge her reaction, and come up with a logical explanation for his actions—as he himself couldn’t pin down what exactly compelled him to draw her.

“Y/n!!”

Y/n placed her pencil case back on her desk, turning to the voice that called out her name.

It was Tamaki of course. She grinned immediately as she saw him enthusiastically skipping his way over, waving a pocket-sized notebook over his head.

“Tamaki,” She fondly greeted him. She gives him a questioning look afterward, prompting him to say whatever he needed to.

“Look at this, is it just wonderful?” He handed the aforementioned notebook to her, helping her flip through the pages to find what exactly he wanted to show her.

“What is it, Tamaki?” She inquired while he frantically flipped through the pages.

“Hold on a second,” He scrunched his face in determination, “Ah! Here! Take a look.”

Y/n eyes fall onto her sketched portrait, lightly touching over the lines and examining the little details as her eyes widen, mouth opens, and cheeks flush in admiration.

Tamaki smiles at her reaction, throwing in a little complement at how cute he finds it.

“So, what do you think?” He beams and fixes his position, moving from her right side and stands behind her, propping his hands on her shoulder, leaning forward, and placing his chin on her head to get a good look at it too.

“It’s stunning, Tamaki… Did you make this?” She peers up, eyes sparkling in anticipation.

“Not me, Kyoya did!” Tamaki gives her a cheerful smile, letting her turn to Kyoya’s direction to call him over, only for them to see that the raven was already making his way over to them.

“Kyoya!” Tamaki jumps and brings his friend into a hearty embrace, earning an irritated glare and sigh of annoyance from him.

Tamaki backs away slightly and pouts and whines about his mon ami’s reaction.

Y/n looks up from the notebook and looks at Kyoya in a mix of confusion, surprise, and gratitude.

Trying his hardest to restrain the growing warmth traveling up his cheeks from the unexpected, positive reception of his work and initial embarrassment that came with it. Kyoya breaks the silence,

“I noticed you were sitting perfectly still for a while, and so I thought it would make a fine artwork.” Replying in a nonchalant manner, saying it as if he didn’t just indirectly compliment her.

“O-Oh..! Thank you, Ootori…” Y/n replies after a few awkward moments.

“It’s nothing to feel gratitude for, I was simply keeping myself occupied while the lecture went on.” He added cooly, pushing up his glasses trying to sound as convincing as he could.

He brings a hand up to take back his notebook wishing to make a quick escape but before he could reach it, but Y/n pulls it out of his reach. Startled by the sudden movement, he shoots her a questioning look.

“Wait!” She hesitates, “Is it alright if I take a picture of it? It’s masterful, I really like it.” She smiles sheepishly.

Even more baffled from her response, he says nothing for a few seconds, processing it all.

“Don’t bother, you can keep it…” He follows with a hushed voice.

She’s visibly taken aback by what he says but smiles at him nonetheless, joyfully thanking him as she proceeds to rip the page from the notebook, storing it between the pages of her own, and hands his notebook back.

“How generous of you, my friend!” Tamaki latches onto Kyoya again, throwing an arm around his shoulders and sways him from side to side.

“You don’t need to mention it,” He replies quietly, looking at the ground, lightly shoving Tamaki off of him and strolls out of the scene.

Y/n and Tamaki watch as he packs up and leaves, waving him goodbye as he exits the classroom, finally making his escape.

Unknown to the two, Kyoya was trying his best not to show the blush he knew was forming on his cheeks. He was nitpicking every word he exchanged with her just moments before, unbearably embarrassed and conflicted about his flusteredness, being equally confused about his own reaction.

He sighs to himself and shakes his head in exasperation, speed walking out of the building.

Back in the classroom, Tamaki and Y/n silently stared at the door he exited from.

“I never thought he would—“ Y/n started,

“Kyoya shows his care in his own way. He may not be the most expressive person in the world but he can be the most caring when he tries. Even if he doesn’t always outwardly show it.” Tamaki asserts, eyes still trained on the doorway where Kyoya left. Y/n surveys him, staying silent.

“This just proves that he does care about you, otherwise he wouldn’t spend his time working on that drawing of yours, would he? You have nothing to worry about my dear, just give him some time and he’ll open up to you eventually,” Tamaki smiles affectionately at her, patting her head and then her shoulders.

“Just have to be patient with him,” With that he leaves to retrieve his own things, waiting by the doorway to walk her out of class.

“You’re right…” Y/n huffs, as they stroll out the doorway.

“He’s quite difficult isn’t he, Tamaki.” She sighs, relaxing as she recalls Tamaki’s words.

‘It may not seem like much, but it’s a good start.’

She smiles and blushes ever so slightly at her thought, walking with a hop in her step as she and Tamaki leave the school building, content with the developments of the day.

masterlist

[encantobrainrot365]

I have an idea for a story I like to call Dos Oruguitas: The Mariposa and the Cameleon

It’s the story of Camilo and Mirabel’s relationship and how it changed over time.

Since they are only six weeks apart, they were born basically twins 🤞and grew up together as the best of friends. Just like Isabela, Dolores and the Triplets.

(Credit to @lintushadow-art )

However, things began to 👀, shift, when Mirabel didn’t get a gift.

I imagine the aftermath of that day was difficult for the both of them.

For Camilo, his best friend was just denied a gift, when he himself just got one. While he tried his best to comfort her, it must have been very hard for him to accept. It’s likely he felt guilty and tried to avoid shifting whenever they played together.

Meanwhile, Mirabel just couldn’t help being jealous or heartbroken. 💔 Her primo, her twin, got a gift, but for some reason she didn’t. For a long time she must have worried that something was seriously wrong with her and nothing anyone said could change that.

Then add the fact that Tio Bruno just up and left days after her ceremony. The family was already worried about Mirabel and the magic, and now they’re dealing with the pain and loss of a family member. A primary caretaker and play mate for the kids has disappeared with no explanation. Just like Mirabel’s door.

This would definitely lead to some abandonment and attachment issues.

There was probably a lot of fighting and anger, blame and accusations thrown about too. They might have even avoided each other for some time due to their own insecurities.

However, they still loved each other and they’re best friends, so of course they made up. But in spite of their closeness, they still drifted apart with time. They grew up and faced a lot of big changes. They started going to school; made new friends; developed their own separate interests; took on more responsibilities in town; welcomed a new family member; and just started spending less and less time together and more time apart.

Ten years later, we’re at the start of the movie, now, they’re still pretty close, but they aren’t best friends anymore. For Mirabel, that title belongs to Antonio, now.

So yes, it would be cool to explore the evolution of their relationship. Before and after the events of the movie as they fall apart, only to reunite again.

[quietwingsinthesky]

Gabriel and Loki? Gabriel new to the world, just having left Heaven.

For you. and only for you. I will ignore the fact that I do not like the retcon that made loki a separate character and not just Gabriel’s trickster alias. Let’s do this.

|| AO3 || DW || FFNet || PF || SW || WC: 94

He takes you under his wing, (ha!) and he’s got a wealth of knowledge to slip into your hands when you’re least expecting it. He’s a trickster god, and he deals in lessons even when he’s trying his best to be straightforward for you, thinking an angel might not pick up his ways so quickly. (There’s a dozen gods who might have fostered you this way, but you chose him, yes, and you pretend you don’t know why, like the sharp way he smiles and his conspiratorial voice don’t remind you of anyone else.)

(Enjoyed it? Any interaction is welcomed. You can even support me on Ko-Fi <3)

[vindicated-truth]

Jeongje,

I assume Joowon-ah has given you this letter during one of his visits. Said something about including it in the gift he has prepared for you.

You know he now only has a Lieutenant’s salary, right? He lost access to all of his family’s money, because he didn’t listen to me when I warned him that he shouldn’t ruin his life for me.

He’s an idiot.

But he’s an adult with freewill, and it’s still his money, so of course I have no say on what he chooses to spend it on.

Besides, I don’t begrudge him choosing to spend it on you. Contrary to what you might think, I don’t want you to be alone.

I never wanted that for you, Jeongje.

That’s why I’m glad Joowon-ah is making sure you aren’t. Because… I can’t be that person for you.

Not anymore.

It’s why I’m writing you this letter. Because I want you to know why.

Because I’m sorry, Jeongje. I’m sorry because… I can’t forgive you.

And it’s not because I’ve stopped caring for you. In fact, it wouldn’t hurt this much if I did.

I really wish I did.

But the reason why I can’t forgive you is that the forgiveness isn’t mine to give.

The one person who has the right to forgive you is dead.

Because you killed her.

And I’m not saying this because I want to punish you, either. Because contrary to what you might think, I don’t want you to suffer anymore.

You’ve suffered enough. And I know that because I’ve seen that in Joowon-ah, too.

No one deserves to suffer, Jeongje. Not you. Not him.

But the forgiveness isn’t mine to give. It’s Yuyeonie’s.

I’m hurting because I lost a sister. My parents are hurting because they lost their daughter.

And I know you’re hurting too. Because you, too, lost the one you love.

I’ve always known, you know. Both of you had never been good at hiding it. It hurt that you two believed you had to, but—you made her happy, Jeongje. Yuyeonie had never been able to hide that. And to be honest, neither did you. And I can never, ever begrudge how you made each other happy.

Which is why I know… you’re hurting, too.

It’s the one thing you and I have in common, even after all this time.

You and I… we both lost her.

But all our pain, Jeongje… it’s all secondary. None of our pain compares to what she lost.

She lost her life.

She lost a future that should have been hers. You know she wanted to be a lawyer, right? But do you know the kind of lawyer she wanted to be?

She had a very clear vision of the life she wanted for herself. She’d sit at the foot of my bed while I’d practice on my worn-out guitar and she’d regale me tales of how she wanted to be a lawyer who defended women.

Her ideals were way ahead of her time. She said our society was too patriarchal, that it was a society where women didn’t feel safe, and she wanted to change that.

She wanted to be a lawyer so she could be a safe space for all these women who were victims of the cruelty and violence of men. She wanted to be the kind of woman she herself needed.

She would’ve been the kind of woman who could’ve stopped women like her from being killed by men.

Which is why it was such a cruel twist of fate that her life ended precisely like that.

I always wonder, Jeongje… how many women would’ve also been saved had she grown up to be the kind of woman she wanted to be? A woman who protected women?

Would she have been able to protect our Minjeongie too?

Did you know that she had always been wary of Kang Jinmook? She didn’t dare say it directly because I think she might have been scared back then, too. But she would always tell me, casually but consistently, how it might be better for Minjeongie if we adopt her as soon as it was legally possible.

Do you know what I told her back then, Jeongje? That she was being ableist. That she was looking down on Jinmook’s capability as a father just because he was mentally disabled.

Turned out he wasn’t. He was just evil.

And she was right.

Even back then, Jeongje, she was right. And I didn’t listen to her. Her own twin brother didn’t listen to her.

How unforgivable is that?

Can you imagine what our society would’ve been like if someone with her brains and her advocacy had lived to see her dream come true? Can you imagine, Jeongje, how different things would’ve been if only our society listened to women more? If only we listened to our Yuyeonie more?

She could’ve saved so many women, Jeongje. And now—

Now, we’ll never know. Because she’s dead.

We all lost a sister, a daughter, a friend, a lover. None of that compares to what she lost.

She lost her life. She lost her dream. She lost her advocacy. She lost her future.

And that’s the reason why, Jeongje. Why the forgiveness should come from her.

It had never, ever been my right to give.

It’s why I can’t forgive you. Because the one person who has the right to gift you that forgiveness—is dead.

And I’m sorry, Jeongje. I’m sorry because that’s the reason why… I can’t let you back into my life.

Not anymore.

Because I love her, Jeongje. I love her more than anything in the world, more than anyone I’ll ever love in my life.

She’s my twin, Jeongje. I had never known what it’s like to be alone because from the moment we were conceived in our mother’s womb, she had always been there. She had always been beside me. She was the other half of my soul.

Do you know what it feels like to lose the other half your soul?

Then again, maybe you do.

You love her, too.

I don’t know if she would have forgiven you. Fuck, I don’t know if she would have forgiven me. But that’s our punishment, Jeongje. That’s the pain we all have to live with: that we will never know. Because none of us have the right to take that away from her.

The right to forgive.

Because contrary to what you might think—I don’t want to lose you as a friend.

I miss you, more than you could ever know. More than you could ever hope to understand.

But it’s a loss I have to live with. It’s a loss I choose to live with. Because she’s the only one who could have granted you that forgiveness. And we all have to live with never knowing if she ever will.

I can’t let you back into my life, Jeongje—because I don’t know if Yuyeonie would’ve forgiven you for me to let you.

For me to have you back.

I am not the one who has the right to forgive you, so I am also not the one who has the right to punish you.

So please, Jeongje. Don’t suffer anymore. Not for my sake.

Don’t be alone anymore.

Both of you.

Your friend,

Dongsik

—

Dongsik-ah,

Did you know what Lieutenant Han was going to give me? Because you should’ve talked him out of it still, never mind that it’s his money he’s spending. I’m not going to risk your ire by telling you how much he spent, because I actually know how much all of it cost, but I really hope you’re at least treating him to dinner for a month because I can’t imagine how he’d be able to afford to feed himself after this.

Or maybe just let Jaeyi-ya treat him. I’ve heard he’s been frequenting the butcher shop more often lately.

I’m glad. He deserves to be fed.

He deserves to be happy.

He’s a good guy, Dongsik-ah. You know that, right?

You might be wondering why this prince who has fallen from grace keeps going out on a limb for someone like me.

I’ll tell you why, Dongsik-ah. It’s because he’s lonely.

In the kindest way I can tell you this, I don’t think you’ll ever understand Lieutenant Han. And it’s not because he was brought up in a life of luxury and privilege that the rest of us can only imagine.

But because you were loved, Dongsik-ah.

You and Yuyeonie—both of you were brought up in love.

I think that’s part of why I stayed over at your house a lot, even when we were kids. I was drawn to your family, because I badly wished I had a family like yours. You can’t imagine the kind of envy I felt seeing how your parents are.

You had that ridiculous dream of becoming a singer, even though Jihwa-ya kept telling you to your face that you couldn’t hold a tune to save a life. Yet your parents supported your dream all the same, and had never once compared you to Yuyeonie.

You know, I’ve always had the sneaking suspicion she was tone-deaf too, mostly because I couldn’t understand why she’d keep clapping for you every time you'd “perform” for us during family nights.

I’d been a part of your family for that long.

I never had any of that. And I think—that’s why Lieutenant Han is drawn to me.

Because he never experienced that kind of love, either. And he knows what it’s like to be alone.

That’s why he’s making sure I’m not. Even when I deserve to be.

Because he knows exactly what it’s like.

And I don’t think it’s as selfless as you think, Dongsik-ah. I think—he just wants someone to understand what he’s been through, too.

Because you’ll never be that person for him.

Because you were never abused by your parents, Dongsik-ah, the way Lieutenant Han was. And he’s drawn to me, because I’m someone who understands that the most.

Between the both of us though, I honestly believe I still had it better. And this isn’t false modesty or debt of gratitude or anything like that. My mother was evil, too, but in her own way, she did love me.

At the very least, until the very end, she had never abandoned me.

Even when it meant she had to hurt you instead.

That’s something Lieutenant Han never even had.

He never had a family.

And that’s the reason why I’m writing you this letter, in return.

Because you’re right, Dongsik-ah. I don’t belong in your life anymore.

I belong to the past. And I deserve to stay there.

Do you know why, Dongsik-ah?

Because that’s where Yuyeonie is.

You’re right. I don’t know if she would ever forgive me. But that’s okay. I’m not doing this for my forgiveness.

Because you’re right, Dongsik-ah. I did love her. I love her, still, even when she might not want that love anymore, after everything I did.

After everything I failed to do.

But that’s also why, Dongsik-ah. Why I want to stay in the past. Why I choose to stay in the past. Because that’s where she is. That’s how I choose to live the rest of my life.

Immortalizing her memory.

That’s why I gave you that sketchbook. To the best of my ability, Dongsik-ah, until my last breath—this is how I choose to love her.

I will never let her memory die.

This is how I choose to live the rest of my life in penance.

The people who have hurt you, the people who hurt Yuyeonie and your family—we all belong to the past. That’s why we all belong in prison, because it’s keeping us there.

But you, Dongsik-ah—you don’t belong to the past. Not anymore. There’s no more reason for you to stay there.

Because you have a future with him.

And that’s where the problem lies, you see. It’s precisely because he equates himself with me that he thinks he deserves to stay in the past, too.

He was never there, Dongsik-ah. Because his own monster of a father sent him far, far away, where he was forced to look for love in all the wrong places, when he should have already found it first in his own home. His own family.

You and Yuyeonie showed me that.

I don’t think he did. I don’t think I’ve ever seen anyone so utterly deprived of it. Starved of it.

Until he found you.

You told me, Dongsik-ah, how you will never love anyone the way you loved Yuyeonie, ever again. And you asked me if I know how it feels like to lose the other half of your soul.

I do, Dongsik-ah. But I don’t think that’s the point.

We weren’t supposed to replace her.

We’re simply allowed to love again.

I’m allowed to have a friend again. One who chooses to starve for a month because he doesn’t know how to love halfway and he always gives it his all in everything he does.

I agree with you, by the way. He is an idiot.

But you know what, Dongsik-ah?

I’ve come to love this idiot, too.

And if I’m allowed to have a friend again… you’re allowed to rebuild the other half of your soul again.

You’re allowed to not let yourself be alone anymore.

You’re allowed to love again.

Dongsik-ah… Han Joowon is like me. But at the same time, he isn’t.

Because he belongs to your future. If you let him.

And this is why I'm writing you this letter, too.

Please don't let my friend starve anymore.

Your friend,

Han Joowon’s friend,

Jeongje

[vulturereyy]

The Watcher dreams alone.

[autisticlancemcclain]

wip tease number god knows, truly

The phone doesn’t ring for more than two seconds. Which is crazy, because New Altea is an unfathomably huge number of lightyears away and also Lance’s phone signal is perpetually garbage.

“Ahoy,” greets Allura when the line connects, because she is strange.

“Ahoy,” Lance greets back, because he loves her.

They sit in silence. He can hear, vaguely, the clicking sounds of compacts being opened and closed, and the particular humming noise she always makes when she’s putting on eyeliner.

It occurs to Lance, for the first time, that they have known each other so long and so closely that to the outsider, their relationship might be quite strange. The thought makes him smile widely.

“So,” he says.

Allura hums again. Deliberately, this time.

Lance takes another long time to answer, digging the toe of his boots into the ground. He spies a worm wiggling in the newly churned dirt and bends down to pluck it, writhing, out of its hovel. He quickly snaps a picture and sends it to Pidge with the caption, ‘didn’t know you were on Earth today.’ She responds with a grotesquely realistic custom clown emoji.

“There is a possibility. Perhaps. That I do not actually want to be a farmer.”

“No shit,” replies the Queen of New Altea And Also Lots Of Other Things Lance Can’t Remember, blithely.

Lance sniffs haughtily. “This is quite the revelation, you know. I’ve had four panic attacks about it.”

“You have an anxiety disorder. You had a panic attack about malevolent gut bacteria last week.”

“…This is true.”

“Also, whenever I feel you need to be humbled, I ask your mother to send me stuff from your childhood. There’s a video in particular I enjoy of you sobbing about the prospect of being anything but an astronaut. You looked at a cornfield and threw up. You were four, I believe.”

Lance does, actually, vaguely remember that. Well, he remembers Luis writhing on the floor, weeping with laughter, and kicking him in the shins. He also remembers the cornfield, if only because he distinctly remembers lobbing a piece of corn at Luis’ head, also.

He was a very expressive child. Also, Luis is a turd.

“I am entitled to a period of self-reflection,” Lance says primly.

“It has been an Entire Year, knobhead.”

“I needed time to collect my thoughts in peace and on Earth. I died, you know.”

“Oh, did you,” says Allura drily. “I wonder how that went.”

Lance’s smile widens. He lets her have this one. “Fuck farming, okay. I’m bored. I love my family to pieces but I need to be closer to drama. Give me a job.”

“That is a garbage application, Leandro.” He hears the distinct sound of a nail polish bottle being shaken. “I should hire someone more qualified.”

“How about you hire deez nuts.”

“Hm,” she says, and he can hear her grinning. “On the other hand, I need a second in command who is unafraid to challenge me. You know, in case I grow corrupt with power.”

She pretends to deliberate for a moment.

“You’re hired. I’ll send someone to come pick you up tomorrow.”

“Is that someone going to be a hot, tall Altean in a slutty outfit?” Lance asks hopefully.

She can’t help a laugh. Lance grins triumphantly. “You’re fired.”

“Is that a yes?”

“I’ll think about it.”

She hangs up.

[liesmyth]

John grew up playing with secondhand toys, went to a school where the majority of the student body were on scholarship — he probably didn't have much money. Probably same goes for G—, John's childhood friend

But Augustine. Augustine who was the liaison with the project investors and whose little brother was an hedge fund manager... I hope we can all agree that A— grew up rich. Alfred showed up at the cow compound in his leather briefcase and gucci loafers

[fuckyeahgoodomensfanfic]

Good Omens Fic Rec:  Doubt Thou The Stars Are Fire

“Oh God,” Aziraphale said to the empty bookshop, pouring himself another drink, “Oh, Lord, tell me, if we had been humans together, with short lifespans and squishy bits and all that.” Aziraphale interrupted himself by hiccupping. “Would we have fallen in love? Are you listening lord? If you hear me, give me a sign, please, I beg you.” Unfortunately, or fortunately--one can never really say in such ineffable circumstances--the almighty was, indeed, listening.

Length: 31,198 Words

AO3 Rating: Explicit / Spice Level 🔥🔥🔥🔥

Best for: Mostly Safe in Public, Canon AU, Human AU, One Sitting

Triggers: None

Read it here, fic by Princip1914

NOTE: This is a locked work you must be logged in to view

*Minor Spoilers* For many personal reasons I haven't been reading many fics lately that haven't been rereads or WIPS. Not enough space in my head the last couple weeks. But I came back to the world of Good Omens fic with this one. It instantly reminded me of the vastness of these characters and how big their love story is.

I don't want to give all this story's secrets away, but let's set the scene anyway. We start this story after the failed Apocalypse, Aziraphale is scared to admit his feelings for Crowley and feels that the only reason Crowley cares for him is simply because they just happened to get stuck with each other. He worries that he's the Wilson to Crowley's Tom Hanks, and how could Crowley possibly love him? The rest of the story sets out to prove him wrong.

What follows is an incredibly creative and well written montage of sorts, of different lives Crowley and Aziraphale might have lived. The stories are so rich and satisfying even with shorter lengths. There are two main lives we follow, both set in America, and they outstanding. Both are grounded and engaging, the sex especially feels so real. Awkward discussions and all. These stories have such a charisma to them that really just glued me to my screen. Then it goes above and beyond with it's really unique take on what love between the non human versions of them are capable of.

The one thing I will say in preparation, is you will need to pay attention because it will shift on you. It caught me off guard at first. It's not hard to follow along, but I was at work for some of my reading and I did have to go, "wait what?" once while my attention wasn't tuned 100% in. And I think it'd be best to read this in one sitting. Just to get the full effect of the thing. I loved this. I love how it excited me for this pairing, what it says about the characters and it's characterizations, the variety, the subtle humor, the creativity, I loved the whole thing! It's refreshing! You'll be mostly fine in public for this since the explicit scenes are spread out, but really I do recommend that you binge read this at home!

Read it here, fic by Princip1914

[tinukis]

i hate that im scared to write and i hate that im so picky with fics bc i have very specific needs to be fulfilled and it is hard to meet those needs...

i soooo bad desire zolusan, post wano specifically bc in my head thats when all three get together. wci is when sanji realizes his feelings for luffy– or rather accepts that he is in love with him (two years of pining im so sorry sanji) that and also finding difficulty in accepting his feelings for zoro too so basically: sanji being a mess

but idk zolusan mutual pining but they're all idiots. sanji has his own struggles, but imagine zoro's feelings or luffy's feelings. zoro keeping them internalized because it's not that important and wouldn't change a thing, yet he yearns. luffy... the guy is unpredictable imo. and i think that focusing on his perspective would be a lot of fun. he's already happy with what he has but he wants to be selfish and ask for more. idkidk words are hard but these three live rent free in my brain and they do not want to leave send help

(ALSO. imagine discussing the death pact and luffy finding out about it... unrelated to what i said but im talking about zolusan can u blame me... like. God!!!!!!!!!!! theres this one fanart where zoro does go through with it and luffy finds out and. Sighs.)