#fix writes with friends

[redysetdare]

enough stories about how someone learns to truely be happy through love. i want a story where someone is desperately seeking out love thinking it's the only way to be happy only for them to learn by the end that happiness is what they make of it and they don't need love at all to make it.

[floccinaucinihilipilificationa]

Hey hey hey may 31th anon! How's 2024 going? ☆ヾ(*´▽｀)ﾉ This year I have for you a leaked Sherlock season 5 image. Thinking of you!! And everyone!!

[bluerosefox]

You know what.

ANOTHER DPxDC idea (as if I write prompts for anything else lol ✍(◔◡◔)

And once again, I think I might have a hyperfixation rn, another deaged Dani (Ellie) and Dan (Dante)! and Dad!Danny.

And you know what, lets make it another DannyxConner idea.

Danny is on a field trip with his class (NOT in Gotham though, LOVE Gotham but lets go with a different city) in like Central City or Metropolis (If Metropolis, Danny is SUPER excited to see the space sections they have at the museum they no doubt have, because well SUPERMAN is an alien and based in their city. If in Central City Conner is visiting Bart.)

During the trip he bumps into Conner and the two just hit it off. Conner enjoys listening to Danny rant about space and the stars and finds watching Danny's eyes light up in joy kinda cute. And if he got his new hero name Supernova from listening to Danny's rants about the stars well... no one needs to know how he got it.

Danny likes how chill Conner is and how the guy stood against Dash and the other jocks when Dash decided he wanted to mess with Danny during the trip, a rare thing nowadays but sometimes Dash does try, and how he respects/likes Danny's friends.

He didn't even say anything negative or hurtful when he found out Danny has two kids back home.

In the end the two exchange numbers, flirt hard, and maybe set up a date in the future. And then more dates. Becoming boyfriends. AND meeting the family. Conner is smitten with just out of toddlerhood Ellie and toddler Dante and adores them. And he loves how the Fentons just love him the moment he stepped into their house and was introduced as Danny's boyfriend, he made sure to bring over a pie Ma should him how to make.

Things get a bit complicated when Conner, Supernova, is at a reunion of YJ members and his phone lights up with a text message from Danny.

He's smiling with a goofy/soft look when he opens the text and see's its a picture of Danny holding a pouting toddler Dante and Ellie on his lap smiling with a notable gap in her teeth at the camera. The message he got was 'Ellie wanted you to know she finally lost her first baby tooth. Dan's been grumpier, I think he misses you.'

He is pulled out of his happy thoughts and musings when he hears Bart gasp hard and drop a bowl of snacks onto the floor. Conner turns to from the future Speedster and see's him about to have a panic attack.

Bart, Impulse, is having a freak out after catching a glimpse of the text picture Conner had gotten and being nosy wanted to know what got his friend to smile so smitten. He knew of Conner's current boyfriend and the kids Conner adores but haven't had time to be introduced to them or even see a pic.

He wasn't expecting to see the very MONSTER of his NIGHTMARES that basically destroyed the world in the FUTURE as a toddler pouting at a camera and surrounded by two smiling identical looking people either. People he never saw in the future or with HIM AND-

Oh.... OH!

Was that why he turned evil? Did something happen to his family?

[morgana-ren]

i love angst, and i love your writing, but please, PLEASE, i beg you, could you write some hope of tav ever returning now that the imbecile, has realised the error of his ways 🥺😭 (either way, thank you so much, for all your astarion writtings, it has made me feel things, the angst is real and my masochistic heart loves it🥲)

First part of the story HERE

Common complaint I got on that one! So I fixed it just for y'all. This ending is much less sad and much more sappy, so here is the comfort you need after all that angst!

"Darling, will you smile for me? Just once more. Please--"

He feels her cheeks in his palms, the soft skin against his battle-hardened callouses. Desperation cradles his unbeating heart, and for a moment, the emotion is far too much. A searing flame after centuries of frost. A bonfire in a blizzard. It hurts-- it burns--

"My love, I just need you to--"

"Anything my lord, anything at all for you. Simply command me and I will do anything you ask."

"No, I can't-- I-- I won't do it. I won't. I won't!"

"My lord?"

Her head cocks, turning slowly to look upon him, but her eyes-- they are empty; beetle-black and hollow. Her smile is uncanny as a painted doll, her movements disjointed and inhuman. Her teeth are stained crimson with blood, dripping, dripping, ever dripping down, never swallowed, only pooling.

She is light as a feather as she slips away from him, her skin marbling into a sickly gray before ash spreads across her body as a disease, smearing her form into nothingness. Only her face is left untouched, pretty as porcelain, unflinching and unfalling save a small crack that splinters down from her forehead down to her eyes, revealing inky black abyss beneath.

"My lord-- Oh, my tender, vicious lord. I can feel your anguish-- your hunger. Devour me to be whole once more--"

Her blood smells of rot and she--

She is too far gone to save. Too far gone to ever be saved.

"I won't!"

Whirlwind. Pain. Confusion and dread and seeping anguish. A maelstrom of rage and all-consuming despair swelling from within his soul—

—his soul?

The world around him falls away, a wicked tornado thrashing him about, his mind howling in the eternal winds--

And suddenly he is in a chair.

Not a throne. A chair— and a rather uncomfortable one at that.

"What in the hells—"

His vision spins, nausea curling his gut into a wicked tide of sickness barely restrained by his teeth. He tastes stale blood crawling up his throat, threatening to overturn onto the faded rug beneath him.

"Did you see what you wished for, little spawn?"

The voice takes him by surprise. It is not hers, but another, less familiar voice. The wailing animal in his head retreats to a dull roar as his memory creeps back. A brightly colored tent assaults his vision, piecemeal rugs and odd, foreign trinkets abound on makeshift shelves, and before him sits a strange old woman, hood pulled heavy over her straggling gray hair.

"I-- What was that?"

He sees her cracked, aging lips upturn, gnarled hands placed protectively over a strange orb on the table touching his knees. "I have shown you your future, vampling. Was it to your liking?" Panic rises within his stomach again, and though he does not breathe, he clutches his chest. The smell of incense clogs his nostrils and again, the wave of sick threatens to spill forth. Wretched taste of metallic, aged blood sits heavy on his tongue, all sensation too much-- all of it too much.

"No-- No, that cannot be it!"

"This is your path, Pale Elf. The road you walk. The power you seek is well within your grasp, but as I told you before, it will cost you everything."

He vehemently shakes his head, denying it. Denying it before her and all the Gods.

"You told me upon entry that no price was too great for your reward. Do you still agree with this sentiment?"

"No! Not-- not her. Not her. Not that! I couldn't--"

"You can and you shall, sure as the moon follows the sun. You will have everything you ever wanted, but cost of this ritual is plain before you. You cared not for the many souls left to your mercy that are crushed beneath your tyrannical fist in your ascension, but what of the sole one that resides in your heart?"

Her. The light of his life. The air he breathes. The sun on his frigid flesh, the warmth that melts his icy heart.

"No," He hisses, trying to stand, but ultimately unable to muster the strength. "I won't! There-- There must be another way. Show me!"

"There is no other way," She says, solemnly. "It is inevitable."

He swallows down the information like a boulder lodged in his gullet. Her words echo endlessly in his mind, bouncing off the walls and lodging shards of ice directly in his soul.

"What if I-- What if I don't ascend? Tell me, what if I don't?"

She smiles again, teeth flashing through her thin lips. "That is another path, little elf." "I need to know. I-- I need certainty. I won't do this to her, but I--" He pauses, grappling with everything in his mind, desperately flitting about to absorb it all. "If I am going to forgo this, I need to be certain. I need to know that I can protect her, that she will be safe--"

But the woman simply shakes her head.

"Everyone must choose. For some, the path is dark, but for you, you see more than most will ever have the comfort of knowing. I can offer you nothing more. Should you initiate the Rite, you know this will come to pass. I can tell you nothing more if you choose to not. The future is yet unwritten, and the quill resides in your hands." "Then why can I not have both!" He slams a fist on the table, clawing at the soft wood. For the first time in ages, tears prick at his pale lashes and frustration wells a knot in his throat. "Why--" "Because one path is wholly your own, while the other is a tangled web, such is the nature of deals with the Hells. You will get everything you ever wanted and lose everything that made it worth having."

His head slumps, defeated and miserable. Silvery tears slide down the curves of his cheeks, even as he attempts to bite them back. He thought he would find comfort in knowing the future, but all it has given him is utter horror.

"Despair not," She continues. "Yes, you will wither under the sun, an eternally cursed dweller of the night, but all is not lost, is it? The one you love, will she stray from your side?" "I wanted her to have better than that," He sniffles, needling his lip with a fang. "I cannot brave the sun, but her-- She deserves better than that-- better than me."

"And what of what she feels?"

His brows furrow, and he peers up at the woman from tear-beaded lashes.

"You are a night walker; it is in your nature to be selfish. But love is not selfish, little vampling. You must fight your nature, your inherent self-loathing, or your love will always find the fire. What of what she desires?"

"She loves me," He says with absolute certainty. "And I--" "Do you love her?"

"Yes," He hisses, almost insulted that she would ask. "More than anything. I'm here, aren't I?"

"Then the rest matters naught. If you love her, you will allow her the agency to choose-- something you deny her as an ascendent. You must grow past your own follies. To love is to be vulnerable, and you must allow both yourself and her this freedom."

They are hard words to swallow, and yet, he feels the truth resound in them. She would not leave his side, even as he tried to force her to understand. Even as an instrument of his manipulation and schemes came to light, she stood steadfast with him, hand entwined in his, ready to face the fire together.

"I-- I need to know she will be safe."

Again, the woman shakes her head. "You cannot. You must fight fate if you wish to overturn it. You face dire odds, though throwing the dice in your favor now will doom you later should this outcome be the confirmation of your fears."

He sighs, face crinkling as he sniffs once more, summoning the willpower to swallow down the agony of his choice. He finds the strength in his legs to push himself upward from the chair, weak and shaking as a newborn fawn as he does so. "I will do whatever I need to. Anything."

"Then you may yet see this through."

He can hear the fanfare of the circus outside, the bawdy bards strumming away on their lutes and banging on drums, the elated screams of the children and their parents. Facing the light now seems impossible, but he must find his way home to her-- he has to be with her now now now--

"The coin first, boy."

He snaps out of his delirium only long enough to fish his hands into one of his pockets, bringing out a coin. Aged and neglected, the sinister engraving of a skull peers up at him from his palm, ruby eyes gleaming in the light as he tosses it into the woman's knobbily-jointed hands.

"Best of luck to you, night-child," She tucks it away. "We may yet meet again." "No offense, but I hope not."

"Me too, Little Star."

He pays little mind to the bustling streets and bursting taverns of Baldur's Gate, his feet carrying him back to camp as swiftly as his body will allow. It takes him until sundown even as he damn near jobs, ripping through the tree line and into the ruins with the intensity of a man starved.

"Astarion!" Karlach greets him, trying to wave him over. "I've got a bet with Gale about--" "Where is she?" Astarion immediately cuts her off, looking around frantically.

"Who?" Karlach raises a brow.

"Who else?" Wyll crosses his arms, looking intrigued at Astarion's intensity.

"Oh! In her tent, I think. Why? Gotcha a special something' in town for her, eh?" Karlach tries to rib at him, but he pushes past her without a second glance.

"Bet it's a fancy new dress he needs to tear off of her immediately," Karlach rolls her eyes before returning to her business.

He bursts into her tent to find her hunched over a book, tongue poking from between her teeth, as she scans over the page. This only lasts a few seconds before he scrambles onto the bed, squeezing her as tightly as he can manage, burying his nose into her hair, tears brimming in his eyes once more.

"Woah, hey!" She laughs, carefully setting her book aside, trying to discern what in the hells he is mumbling endlessly into her neck.

Need you-- need you-- love you-- can't lose you-- don't ever--

She hushes him, realizing something has gone terribly, terribly wrong, kissing his head and tugging him close. "Hey, what's wrong?"

She tries to cup his cheeks and bring his face up but he adamantly refuses, hard-swallowing the urge to bawl into her shoulder with every ounce of willpower he has. All he can manage is to cling to her, half sobbing, visions of that terrible future swimming in his head. He cannot let it come to pass, he will not--

And she holds him, cradling him in her arms, hushing him gently. Her face creases with worry, running her hands through his silvery hair as he pulls him into her lap.

"Little Star, what's wrong? You seem so upset. What can I do to make you happy, my love?"

"Is it done?" Ulma leans down as she enters the tent, carefully dodging the intricate tassels of the blanket strewn over the entryway.

"It is," The strange old woman replies, still rubbing the coin with her worn thumb.

"And?"

"I showed him nothing but truth," She says quietly. "I did not manipulate his vision. Only channeled it."

"That tells me nothing. I need to know if our children are safe."

"I cannot tell you this, Ulma. You know of the ways of our tribe; our relationship with these magics." Ulma's lips purse, her exasperation evident in her humorless expression. "I need to know--"

"His reaction was genuine. That was not my doing. He knows the price of power. I cannot tell you if he will pay it regardless," The old woman's head lifts, a slight mischievous smile playing on her lips. "But I can tell you what I think."

"And what do you think?"

"I have seen his soul-- the heart of it. I believe you will see our children yet. He will spare our heart to spare his own in kind. It beats in that woman," Her eyes twinkle in the low candlelight, a genuine smile widening across her cheeks. "I believe he can find redemption yet."

[geraskierfanficprompts]

Jaskier never makes promises. He literally never says the word “promise”, and he swears no oaths.

It’s a subtle quirk. It takes Geralt years to notice. When he points it out, Jaskier says with false levity, “I guess I don’t.”

From the bard’s body language, Geralt can see he doesn’t want to talk about it, so the topic is dropped.

Years later—after Geralt screams his fury at Jaskier—the bard says in a broken voice, “Don’t worry, Geralt. I promise not to bother you anymore.”

The promise sears itself onto Geralt’s soul like a brand. One made of chaos, and he can feel it become binding.

Geralt whips around, but Jaskier was gone.

There are a few moments of confusion before Geralt realizes what just happened. Jaskier had promised, and that promise was sealed with chaos. Only the Fae have such an ability.

YESSSSSSS i love this Geralt has to track down Jaskier and prove that Jaskier doesn't bother him, and thus the promise is still ringing true, even as they continue traveling together

[lilacerull0]

Lila Cerullo + Enzo Scanno: Volumetric Analysis Conducted in a Kitchen

text by me | perhaps the world ends here - joy hario | my brilliant friend - elena ferrante | summer kitchen - donald hall | jacebeleran | letters to donald windham - tennessee williams | x | x | x | my tags

[spaghetticat3899]

When you absolutely despise something a lot of people like, and no matter what way you look at it you cannot see the appeal, but you know you can’t talk about it in public or else you’ll get dogpiled to hell and back, so you just kinda sit there frothing at the mouth like this

[stuckinapril]

I don’t understand it when people say that Carrie was also the problem bc she was anxiously attached bc like …. maybe she had a moment or two but for the most part it was absolutely Big being such a selfish prick and then justifying it w “ohhh I have commitment issues bc my last marriage fell through” umm ur a 45 year old BABY actually

[tiktowafel]

do you ever think about how all you used to draw when you were 10 was ponies and that you should still know how to do that, then get an idea and proceed to draw something like these in nearly one sitting and it turns out better than any drawing you've done in the entire past month

sooo anyway does anyone have cutie mark or pony name ideas for them?? lol

[ancha-aus]

RealAgeAU drabble - Moving

Hello I am back and I got another idea for this little silly au that I have @spotaus to thank for for the original idea :3 Though I think this may be officially becoming one of my AUs hahahaha

First part Prev Part Next part

Also yes. I know it would work better to number these uploads but also i am not writing these in any set order so it will become miserable for all of us if i number them because either they will be out of order or I will have to rework all the names and I am already editing links I don't need that extra energy in my life.

ANYWAY! :D

Next part! The one I lovingly clal in my head - The one where the gang finds a more permanent temporary home. (also yes. Before this they all speed-run the whole Parental bonding and emotional bonding to the idea of having a babybones. Which honestly can and probably will make four different drabbles)

-------

Horror stares at the door and wonders once again how he got to this point.

Well, no. That is a lie. He knows exactly how he got to his point.

He glances over his shoulder where the other four at hiding off to the side. Out of view from the doorway but still visable for Horror if he looks just right. Seems like Dust won the discussion, again, and is holding Nightmare, again.

Horror wants to say it is surprising how quickly they all just... accepted the situation they got into but he really isn't. Monsters are weird like that. Forced adoption is not that wild all things considered when you are talking about beings made of magic and emotions.

Horror stares at the door and raises his hand before knocking twice.

He really hadn't wanted to do this but they have no other choice. As he waits he can't help but think back to what made them decide this.

Cross walks from side to side "That was way to close! That was the third time we came across the Stars with Nightmare out. Third!"

Killer nods from where he is sitting wiht the sleeping Nightmare in his lap "Yeah no kidding. It is annoying as shit that they are hunting us."

Dust shrugs "Not surprising. Nightmare 'disappeared' after all. We are their only lead."

Killer grins "We were lucky Cross managed to lie his way out of the last one." and he shoots Cross a wink.

Cross sputters "I panicked!"

Killer grins and winks "Sure sure daddy crossy."

Horror holds up his hands between his two... co-parents "This is not the time. We need to figure out where we can go." and he thinks things over.

Cross sighs "I don't get how they keep finding us!"

Dust huffs as he packs their bags "We go to too little universes. Makes it easy for Ink and Dream to pick us out because they recognise us personally."

Killer frowns "Meaning. we need a big universe?" he taps his chin "But also mostly positive as we still don't know how obvious Nightmare would be otherwise."

Cross frowns "I think it will be fine. He can't feel the balance anymore right? And no one seems to have a reaction to him like they had before nor how people have a reaction to Dream's aura thing. Maybe with the corruption gone he really is just... ex-guardian now?"

Killer groans "I hope so. I am not a fan of child labor."

That is when it hits him. Horror sits up "I think I know a place."

All of them turn to him and he immediantly regrets saying anything. See? This is why he normally tries to limit what he says.

Either way. Here they are now and Horror prays this works. Please. They need one thing to work in their favor.

The door opens and a gasp "Horror! It has been ages! It is great to see you. How have you been?" Crop smiles at him.

Horror steels his nerves. Come on. Too much hangs on this moment "Hey Crop. Nice to see you. I am... okay. How are you?"

Crop frowns at him instantly "You sure? You don't sound okay. Trouble at home?"

Horror chuckles "Kinda? Not exactly. Euh... Can't go back to that place now?"

Crop frowns "Why? Need a place to stay? I got a spare room."

Okay yes! this is going great! just... gotta make sure he knows.

Horror nods "I do need a room. Not just for me though..." Crop starts to frown and Horror raises his hands "Just temporarily!"

Crop frowns "Did... something go wrong?"

Horror pauses and thinks this through once more. He trusts Crop. Crop has never been anything but kind even when Horror had been an ass. Even when he had to once drag Dust here to get healing before they could make the jump back home.

Horror looks to the side and he sees the others just beyond the treeline, hidden in shadows and waiting. Crop takes a look as well but he can't quite spot them. Crop looks back up at him.

Horror takes a deep breath "You need... to promise me, no not just promise you need to swear. That what you are about to learn will not leave this universe."

Crop frowns as he immediantly looks uncomfortable. It is the reaction a promise gets from most of them. But Crop also shoots him a considering look before he nods. He holds out a hand "I swear and promise I will not share the about to be giving information. UNLESS! It endangers anyone." and he waits.

Horror stares at the hand and thinks. That... That is fine right? That should be fine. Nightmare being a child doesn't endanger anyone. Only them and Nightmare. Horror nods and shakes the hand.

Crop nods and steps aside "Come inside. I bet you will be more comfortable explaining there." he glances at the forest "Do your... friends? Want to come in too?" a guess clearly. probably on multiple fronts.

Horror shakes his skull "Not yet. Need to know your answer and reaction first." He turns to the forest and makes a signal to wait a bit longer. He sees a thumbs up shot his way back. Probably Killer. He never bothered with the signals they had learned together.

Crop nods as he steps aside and Horror walks in, having to duck slightly for the door. The door closes behind him and Horror sees the small living room with fireplace.

Crop leads him to the kitchen "Lets talk there. I will get some tea."

A few minutes later they are both seated and with a cup of tea. Crop looks at him expectingly.

Horror takes a deep breath and takes out their most valuable resourch. The Dreamtale book. And places it on the table. Crop frowns at it before looking at Horror.

Horror nods to it "It will help explain... Very long story short... Nightmare was never an adult. He was a child with a magical shield of some type. That magic has ran out."

Crop stares at him for a moment, then he pulls the book closer and starts reading it. He pauses at the title before opening it.

And now he waits.

---------

Crop sits wiht his skull in his hands. Horror just sits across from him, with his empty cup of tea. Crop's own cup has grown cold a long time ago. Horror just waits for anymore questions but Crop hasn't said anyhting in the last ten minutes.

Horror looks back at the book and sees that Crop has turned the pages back to the one with the drawing of Nightmare's head being cracked open. The image makes a very clear show on how small Nightmare was compared to the ones attacking him.

Horror still thinks the book doesn't do it justice. Nightmare is much smaller in person than the picture makes him seem. The cracks had been much worse than the picture showed. But it is the closest they got.

Crop finally sighs and speaks. He doesn't look away from the picture "I don't... Know a lot about this whole... multiverse stuff. It isn't my place at all. And that is fine." he pauses for a moment "But this... You are telling me... That the one being that had everyone afraid. That everyone saw as a demon. Is a child... is this child?"

Horror nods before he explains more "Nightmare... gained a lot of magic and powers when he ate those apples. At least that is what the story implied. We haven't managed to get him to tell us yet, mostly because well... he is six again." Crops pulls a face as well, yeah. Horror agrees. A PTSD filled six year old is not easy. But they are managing.

Horror nods "so... What Cross nad Dust think what happened is that... The magic and negativity of the apples bond itself to Nightmare. Which game him the magic and powers he would use. The connection to the balance because the apples were part of the balance. and more importantly, an adult form and mind to fit all the magic. There was just no way all that magic and energy would have fit a babybones. Especially one that hadn't shown much magic beforehand." an assumption on their end as Nightmare was never said to use magic in the book.

"We think... We think that this magic of the apples just. ran out. We had been in battle at the time and Nightmare had been hit but it shouldn't have had that much of an effect. it was the same type of attack he had been hit by before. Dust thinks it was just the last bit of magic that the apples had having run out. Meaning that with the magic and energy so went the form." all a theory of course. But it is the only thing they have.

Crop nods as he clearly thinks "And as he was suddenly an adult. instead of just being afraid and scared. all that pain and emotions took a more violent turn. As he was an adult and was suddenly able to realise that it was unfair which made him angry..." Crop pauses.

Crop glares back at the table and shakes his skull "It is... It is a whole story about victim blaming. A victim is blamed for the abuse they suffered. They are made to believe they deserve it and should be abused. Then as soon as they fight back and defend themselves they are seen as guilty." Crop takes adeep breath as he leans back "What I don't get... Why come here? I can't help with any of this."

Horror shakes his skull "This isn't about any of the big stuff. We don't even care about it. We just... Nightmare is himself again. His real self." he taps the page lightly "Not his aged-up self that the corruption enabled him to be."

Crop stares before his face changes to shock "You are trying to hide him." Then a frown "Why not go to your own home? Has it been compromised?"

Horror snorts "At this point? probably." a confused look and Horror continues "Nightmare used his magic to shield off an universe and make a castle." he shrugs at the glance "Nightmare likes to read. I imagine he liked to read back then too. He may have been an adult technically but he was still a child at soul. Child him wanted a home and wanted that to be a castle and adult him made it happen... probably... that is Killer's theory at the moment."

Crop laughs and nods "Suonds reasonable- oh... and with his magic disappearing."

Horror sighs "When I left his universe the castle had already been decaying..."

Crop frowns "Left? The five of you you mean?"

Horror looks to the side and feels the shame return "We.... we did not react well... when we saw the changes at first... we... we obviously dind't know what was going on and well." he looks down "We abandoned him. I know it was wrong and stupid and we all regret it. We came back but we still did it." shame.

shame shame shame shame shame shame shame-

A hand on his shoulder. Horror glances up and Crop smiles at him "It is okay. You are trying to fix it now right? obviously. Not cool that you abandoned a child... but it can be nerve wrecking. Suddenly going from a position where a person is mostly guiding you, to going to a position where you suddenly are responsible over that same person."

Horror looks to the side "We still left." he can't believe they just left!

Crop nods "But you returned." he grins "And you are trying to fix it."

Horror nods again "We are..." he chuckles "Not that we have been doing a good job at it. Jumping from place to place."

Crop hums "So you are looking to settle, at least for a little bit, while also hidding. Why this universe?"

Horror nods "Yeah..." He looks to the side "We... we don't know how everyone will react. To him being like this. Maybe they will react well. Maybe not. We don't want to risk it. Risk him."

Crop stares at him for a long time and nods "There must be better places?"

Horror shakes his skull "The Stars kept finding us. Dust figured out we needed a big universe that leans towards positive. Yours is one of those. It is one of the wider and bigger ones. And overall leaning towards positive."

Crop frowns "It can't be the best one..."

Horror shrugs but continues "True... there are bigger and more positive ones. But those are busy. Many people. many places. Yours is quieter. more empty. Gives peace and room to work from."

Crop frowns as he taps his chin. He thinks deeply before sighing "You guys got any type of backstory we can use? The multiverse thing isn't a known thing here and the only reason my brother and I know is because you crash landed here."

Horror blinks "You will let us stay?"

Crop nods "Sure." and he grins "Can't kick out four parents with a babybones." and he gets up.

Horrro shakes his skull "That isn't... Well I mean technically." He knows that Killer has come close to killing quite a few people with how protective he has grown over Nightmare and that isn't even including the motherhenning of Cross nor the clinginess that Dust has.

Crop chuckles as he nods towards the stairs "The attic is messy and should be cleaned but can be used by you four, well five. There is an old bed and an old lounge chair up there." more thoughtful "How big is he exactly? we will need some clothes. Probably also get a healer to check him if he is developing okay after all those magical shenanigans."

Horror stares for a moment before smiling "Thank you... I know it is a lot."

Crop shrugs as he opens the linnen closet "Horror. Taking care of milking all the cows on your own is a lot. Having to fix your roof in the middle of a thunderstorm is a lot." He straightens his spine with blankets in his arms "Helping a friend and his friends who have somehow aqcuired a babybones, while strange, does not compare to either of those. Now get your friends out of those woods. They will make the animals nervous." he grins "I am excited to be one of the first ones to meet the real Nightmare."

Horror smiles as he packs his book and goes towards the door. "Thanks again Crop."

Crop waves it off as he moves the piles upstairs.

-------

Boom! and they are staying in FarmTale for now! Horror and Crop are homies and Dust is more of an acquaintance of Crop but it works. Aged-up Nightmare knew that Horror had an universe he liked to visit but never demanded details. *shrugs* Nightmare didn't see the point. as long as horror wasn't going to betray him what did it matter he didn't tell him?

Surprise Nightmare, this is your temporary home now. For a bit. or maybe longer? They are still figuring it out.

First part Prev Part Next part

[raineandsky]

#97

“[Villain].” The supervillain beckons them closer from around the door. “I think you might like this one.”

He’s in their little captive room; being a criminal organisation has made them improvise their spaces. A hero is tied to the rickety chair in the middle of the room, ignoring them both with their head bent. A rare sight, and a nice one at that. A sight that suggests a hint of winning.

“Wait,” the supervillain says softly.

They wait. Nothing happens. “[Supervillain], what—”

A sound breaks through their question. A sniffle. The villain ducks slightly to look at the hero’s face, catching the glistening trail of long-since shed tears on their cheeks. Catching heroes is rare enough, but having them cry about it? Gold.

The supervillain flashes them a quick grin. “Wait ‘til you hear their cover story.”

The villain steps forward and flops down in the seat in front of the hero. The hero keeps their head ducked, holding back shuddering breaths, and the villain simply waits for acknowledgement.

Waiting is in vain, it seems. The hero refuses to look up, even when they clear their throat expectantly.

“I thought heroes were meant to be made of steel,” they comment eventually.

The hero finally looks at them, and the villain only feels slightly bad about the miserable quiver of their mouth and the leaking of their eyes. “I’m not a hero,” they say shakily.

The villain raises their eyebrows. Denial’s a new one. “He must have told you that!” the hero continues, their gaze set on the supervillain at the door, and on the last word they break down into tears.

The villain glances back at the supervillain and he throws them another elated smirk. The slightly bad feeling they felt suddenly splits into painful worry.

They turn back to the hero and open their mouth to say something, but it occurs to them they don’t know who the hero is. They’ve never seen them before.

The worry becomes gnawing.

“You’re not a hero,” the villain reiterates slowly, and the hero’s head snaps up faster than the villain thought they could move.

“Yes!” they cry. Hours of tears scratch at their throat. “Thank god, yes. I’m– I’m not a hero. The agency they– they took me off the street, I’m not a hero or anything or– I’m not anything to do with them I swear please the agency is just–”

“Stop,” the villain snaps, and the hero's words cut off abruptly. “The agency took you off the street?”

The hero nods as they gulp down another sob. “I don’t know why. They threw me out in a hero costume and told me to distract the villains, I don’t– I don’t know anything—”

“Hey,” the villain says smoothly. They scoot their chair closer to the hero’s. “Hey, it’s okay. We’re all here because we hate the agency, right?” They glance back to the supervillain, who’s looking rather unimpressed by this turn of events. “You’re on our side now.”

The sob escapes the hero’s throat this time. Or whoever they are. “I just want to go home,” they manage through the tears.

The villain fishes a tissue from their pocket, tipping the hero’s head back to carefully wipe some of the tears from their face. “I know,” they say softly, “but the agency might be out searching for you right now. We’ll look after you until you can go home, okay?”

The hero hiccups their next breath. “T–Thank you.”

“I’ll get you back on your feet,” the villain says with a sigh. They glance back at the supervillain scowling from the door. “And [Supervillain] will go find whatever the hell the agency’s trying to distract us from.”

[waiting-for-a-sunny-day]

I just finished my Satosugu fic on AO3!!

I took Geto and Gojo from the canon, mid-Hidden Inventory / Premature Death arc and diverged right before Geto's defection.

Satoru and Suguru have so much canonical love for each other that I wanted to explore how to use that love to give them a happy ending in a way that still felt in character for them - despite their own challenges and hang ups. (I tried my best!)

The fic starts off a little silly and has a tiny dash of (S1-level) angst, but is mostly about the depth and layers and ways in which Geto and Gojo love each other. (Honestly, I just hope it leaves readers giggling and feet kicking.)

If you want to read 60k+ words of slow burn Fix-It where Geto and Gojo pine after each other and are disgustingly in love, consider giving it a shot!

[beneathsilverstars]

i love themes. i love when i'm writing and i'm like ughhh i have to come up with some filler bullshit details to go here because it's necessary to the rest of the plot but not actually very relevant to it, and then i'm like wait. i know how to make it relevant. i just have to make the details echo the overarching themes of the piece. and suddenly it stops being filler bullshit and starts being, like, foreshadowing or allegory or some cool shit like that ^w^

[imminent-danger-came]

There is a distinct difference between "something good with flaws" and "something bad that's almost good" me thinks

[geraskierfanficprompts]

Prompt 126

In place of August Fourteenth, Promptapalooza 7/ Geralt knows he has a soulmate when he first hears a small voice ask him what his name is. He doesn't respond. He's not humoring destiny (that bitch) or fate (that cunt). He's not going to respond.

It's been a few years and occasionally the voice still speaks to him.

"Are you real?" "Do you hate maths too?" "I fell earlier and really hurt my knee. Today's been bad. what about your day?" "I had a nightmare last night, but thinking of you helped." "When we're grown ups one day and we get married, we'll have flowers at the wedding, right?" "Do you like music?"

And Geralt never answers. He won't link this innocent child to his wretched, wretched life. He won't link them to a murderer.

Another few years go by, and unfortunately the voice won't shut up.

"Still not talkin', huh? That's fine! I can fill the silence easy enough! Let me tell you alllll about my day!"

He's temped to use their connection to tell his soulmate to stop talking, but he doesn't want to expose himself.

…

And he doesn't want to hurt them.

But them telling him a long rambling story about their walk in the woods that day and how a squirrel scared them right in the middle of Geralt fighting a leshy wasn't exactly helpful.

A few more years pass, and the voice still speaks to him. It's gotten deeper, so Geralt suspects it's a boy. Almost a man, but not quite.

"Father yelled at me again. If you care. I hope whoever you are, you have a better home." "Are you dead? They didn't give me a dead soulmate, right?" "Why won't you talk to me?" "i don't think anybody likes me. Not even you. You never speak to me. I wish you did." "I'm thinking of leaving. If there was any time to speak up and tell me who you are or where you reside, it'd be now." "Please talk to me." "I dreamt of you again last night. I keep doing it, recently. Sometimes you're a woman. Sometimes you're a man. Sometimes I can't really tell. Sometimes you're sweet and shy, sometimes you're flirty and crass. Sometimes you have brown eyes. Sometimes they're green. Sometimes they're blue. I wish I knew."

They're yellow. Hideous and grotesque. Inhuman. The boy shouldn't wish to know them.

"I left. I finally did it. I left just last night. I swear, wherever you are, I'll find you."

Another few years pass, and the voice is still there, but it's much rarer to hear. Geralt feels relief knowing he's finally giving up on Geralt and will find himself a better life.

"I haven't been doing a good job of finding you. But you haven't really given me any hints. Do you not want me to find you? Do you really want me to stay away?"

And Geralt finally responds to the man, for the first time ever.

"Yes."

"IT'S YOU! You responded! You're real! You're actually real! I do have a soulmate! I knew it! I knew I wasn't unlovable! Where are you? I'll-"

And Geralt hears the exact moment his rambling thoughts come to an abrupt crashing halt, as he processes what Geralt agreed to.

"Oh."

And that's the last message he gets from his soulmate's voice. It's what Geralt wanted all along. But after a solid year of hearing nothing from him, Geralt will admit he misses him. He misses the chatter.

It's the beginning of the very next year that he meets the bard Jaskier, who stubbornly fights tooth and nail to incorporate himself into Geralt's life.

He fills the silence left by Geralt's soulmate. It's nice to have prattle back. He doesn't tell Jaskier that, of course. Jaskier is young and foolhardy and jumps from bed to bed, but soon enough, he'll want to settle down with his own soulmate and he'll leave Geralt. Geralt isn't looking forward to the silence returning, but he likes Jaskier. He'd go through any silence for him.

It's Jaskier's fifth year traveling with Geralt. They sit across from each other around a campfire as Geralt roasts some pheasants and and Jaskier stares despondently at the notebook he's not writing in.

And then Geralt hears him. His soulmate's voice in his thoughts again.

"I've fallen in love."

And Geralt is happy for his soulmate. Because - Geralt glances at Jaskier for a moment and smiles to himself - He has too.

"I don't know if you hate me. Or if you're dead. Or if you've found someone else, but whatever it is, I hope you can be happy for me. I love him. I really, truly do. I love Geralt with everything in me."

And Geralt jolts and whips his head to look over at the bard.

"Jaskier?" He sends through the connection, and watches as his bard's eyes grow wide with shock.

"…You love me?"

[wavesoutbeingtossed]

Baby Taylor's baby voice is so endearing and it's going to be bittersweet to "lose" that on the TVs, but I'm really excited to hear how they clean up (or not) the production on Debut. I mean I know they're going to make it as accurate as possible to the originals, but I mean in the actual sound mixing and stuff. Because I feel like this album could benefit the most from some of that! Which is not to say that the original is bad BECAUSE IT'S NOT, but I think there is subtle stuff they can do with the mixing/blending/instrumentals/treble/etc. to make it shine even more.