#hopefully there will be a fic for this eventually

[gothsuguru]

TYSM FOR THE TAG NANDINI :3 this is the last line i wrote and like everything else in my life this is about suguru </3

he was your friend before anything else.

tagging: @magicalmutants @connorsui @mossmotif @madwomansapologist @coyotecrumb @teddybeartoji @twentyfivemiceinatrenchcoat @storiesoflilies :3

Writing game: post the last line that you wrote and tag someone for every word in the line.

got tagged by my dearest erika @kedsandtubesocks <33

It’s reverence, it’s worship, it’s lust. 

no pressure tags <33: @habibisagi @saetiate @nagumoan @cruel-hiraeth @jinxedjazz @willossom

[wholemeallbread]

... april's secret ᝰ itoshi rin

fluff, angst, hurt, comfort, slice of life

itoshi rin x gn!reader, highschool au, friends to lovers, slow burn, eventual mutual pining, arguments, pianos, miscommunication, representations of mental illness (warnings will be more specific depending on the chapter)

graduation is a year away. the past two years of school have felt like a haze. expressions blur into anonymity, opinions of him drift away like whispers in the wind; none significant enough to leave a lasting mark. nobody had a face. for him, it’s been an empty, simple path that he alone walks down, driven by his own ambitions.

in a moment of weakness, the music room was his only escape. the keys weren't only barely familiar, but provided comfort. a melody flowed through the gap between the doors, eventually leading you towards him, obviously curious about who's playing the tune. rin was close to walking out as always, not wanting to be disturbed, but something makes you different from the rest. he could see your eyes.

it all started in april.

prologue | playing... love you twice - huh yunjin

calendar... can he get it done before graduation?

april.

may.

june.

july.

august.

september.

october.

november.

december.

january.

february.

march.

graduation.

???

author's note: congratulating my first series before i ever write my first actual oneshot/fic 👏👏👏 i plan on making these long chapters.. hopefully........ aiming for 5k+ but 5k a month is CRAZY so it really depends on how this goes (we dont plan storylines around here) also can u tell its inspired by a silent voice? 😁 and maybe horimiya a bit........ idk about u guys but im trying to make this as realistic as possible so dont be surprised if its taking long to get to some ACTUAL romance

[jackofallrabbits]

Random anon here again!!!

I'm in LOVE with the new chapter

All the boys are so harsh omg let reader catch a breakkk (though I'm sure there's reason behind the harshness lol)

I feel so bad for Chica 😓

Loved the way Eclipse was described, he knows he looks elegant asf. Would not know what to do if he ever looked at me

Interested to see the characters shape and grow in the future! Hopefully sun will eventually be hospitable enough to have an interaction with the reader without vaguely threatening their life LOL

Thank you so much! I love writing this fic so much, so it's wonderful to see others enjoying it as much as I do ❤️

Chica really does not deserve the way she's treated. She is such a sweetheart. Maybe things will get better for her. Or not! Who knows! At least she and Y/N can bond over how mean the boys are.

Eclipse is such a beauty and he knows it and better yet, he knows how to wield it. Sun has some growth to do but he won't be so cruel forever I promise!

[manuelmueller]

I'm living for the day When you hold me in the street And you kiss me on the dancefloor

[steddiehyperfixation]

don't you forget about me (steddie fic)

saw this post and was inspired to write something angsty <3

The first thing Eddie is aware of when he wakes up, before he even opens his eyes, is the dull, aching pain throbbing through pretty much his entire body. The second thing he’s aware of is that someone is holding his hand. 

“Eddie?” The hand in his tightens its grip as Eddie begins to stir; the voice it presumably belongs to sounds immeasurably relieved, yet only vaguely familiar. 

Eddie groans. His eyelids flutter, blinking awake, and he groggily rolls his head to the side to get a look at whoever had spoken. 

The voice sighs again, “Oh thank god-” 

“Harrington?” Eddie’s eyes fly open wide now as they land on the mystery man sitting beside him on the edge of the bed - a man he most definitely is not close enough with to be holding his hand, and a bed that is most definitely not his own. He snatches his hand away. “What the hell are you doing? Where am I?”

“Ed-” Another man’s voice, this one just as relieved and infinitely more familiar. It fills Eddie with relief too as he looks to his other side to find his uncle Wayne rising from a nearby chair to come up next to him. 

“Wayne, what-?” His surroundings are becoming more clear. “What happened? Why am I in a hospital? And why the fuck is King Steve at my bedside?” Eddie tries to sit up only to gasp and wince in pain as the dull ache in his sides sharpens to near agony at the movement. 

“Take it easy, son.” Wayne’s hand lands on his shoulder, gently but firmly pushing him back down onto the pillows. “You were hurt real bad.” 

“Yeah, I got that,” Eddie grumbles out. He sucks in a deep, intentional breath and exhales slowly, the pain beginning to dull again now that he’s settled. His questions are still largely unanswered, though. Blank mind reaching desperately for any logical piece to this bizarre puzzle, he turns an accusing glare to Harrington. “Did you land me in here? Is that why you’re here, some sort of weird guilt thing?” 

Harrington’s looking at him like a kicked puppy. “What? No, I-” he falters, takes a shaky breath and swallows painfully like he’s trying not to cry. “You don’t remember?” 

“I don’t remember what? Will someone just tell me what happened?” Eddie’s confusion is rising more and more into agitation with every second he remains without an explanation. 

“What’s the last thing you remember?” Harrington asks quietly.

“I was driving home from school, just found out I wasn’t gonna graduate again.” Eddie frowns as he thinks back, still trying to put pieces together. “Did I crash my car? Is that it? I was emotional and not paying attention and got into an accident?” 

Yet again, he receives no answers. 

“Eddie, what month is it?” Wayne asks instead, his tone dangerously measured and serious. “What year?” 

“May…” Eddie says warily, “1985.”

His words hold a weight he doesn’t understand, landing heavy on the others in the room and thickening the air. It sends a chill of dread down his spine, the way his answer etches concern deep into the lines of Wayne’s face, the way Steve Harrington seems to take it like a blow to the chest. 

Harrington exhales sharply as if he’s been punched, standing abruptly and taking a few stumbling steps back. Wayne says, “It’s April of ‘86, Ed.”

Eddie’s blood runs cold. “No. No, it can’t be.” 

“I’m gonna go tell the nurse you’re awake,” Harrington mumbles, his voice strained and his eyes glassy with barely held-back tears. 

“I’ll go,” Wayne offers, pushing himself away from Eddie’s bed. He gives Harrington a meaningful look, though what that meaning is, Eddie can’t decipher. 

Harrington turns his devastated gaze to the older man. “But, Wayne, he doesn’t-” 

“I know, kid.” Wayne gives a sad smile and places a sympathetic hand on Harrington’s shoulder as he passes by. “Just talk to him.” 

Eddie is thrown off by this familiarity between them. Since when were those two close? He feels like he’s entered some sort of parallel universe where everything is just ever so slightly wrong. It leaves an itch beneath his skin, uncomfortable and out of place, like he no longer quite fits in his own body, in his own life. He’s lost 11 months, apparently, and this world is no longer his; he doesn’t know where he fits into it anymore. 

Wayne leaves the room, and Eddie wants to protest: Don’t leave me here with this guy I don’t know in this time I don’t know, please, you’re the only thing that feels safe and familiar! Anxiety is crawling through him like a thousand tiny bugs in his veins. He wants to scream, he wants to cry, he wants to run. Anything to shake this feeling loose. But he’s confined to this bed, trapped both by his pain and by all these machines he’s hooked up to, and he sure as shit isn’t going to have a breakdown in front of Steve goddamn Harrington. 

Instead, Eddie resigns himself to this situation and casts a sideways glance at Harrington who very much looks like he’s also trying not to have a breakdown. “I’m freaking out, man,” Eddie says finally, hating how shaky and pathetic his voice sounds. “I swear to god, Harrington, if you don’t tell me what the hell is going on…” 

Harrington worries his lip between his teeth as he hesitates. “It’s a lot to explain.” 

“Yeah, I bet,” Eddie scoffs out a humorless laugh. “I’m missing nearly an entire year, of course it’s a lot to fill in. Unless I’ve been here this whole time?” 

“No.” Harrington shakes his head. “No, you’ve only been here about a week. I- I don’t know why you’re missing so much time, the whole Vecna thing only started like a week before that-” 

“Vecna?” Eddie interrupts to question. “What does any of this have to do with the D&D campaign I was planning? And, also, how the fuck do you know about that?” 

Harrington closes his eyes for a second and takes a breath, like having this conversation is the most painful thing he’s ever had to do. “I’m not talking about D&D, Ed. Vecna was a real-life monster from a real-life alternate dimension we called the Upside-Down. The kids only called him Vecna because we didn’t know who he was at the time and he, like, cursed people before he killed them, but he was actually Henry Creel, which is a whole other fucked up story.”

“Okay…” Eddie doesn’t know who ‘the kids’ are and he’s skeptical of the way Harrington talks so factually about monsters and dimensions and curses existing in the real world, but he does remember his uncle telling him stories about the demonic tragedy of the Creel family, which is the only thing that makes any of this even halfway believable. It still doesn’t explain how Eddie wound up in the hospital with his entire body feeling like it’d been run through a blender, though, or why the former king of Hawkin’s High was hovering over his sickbed. He gestures for Harrington to continue. 

“I never wanted you to get involved in all this Upside-Down shit,” Harrington’s voice breaks. He steps closer to Eddie’s bed again, and he looks so so sad as he stares down at him that it makes Eddie’s own heart ache, just a little bit. Harrington’s hand twitches at his side as if he means to reach out for Eddie but then thinks better of it, running the hand through his hair instead as he continues, “I tried to keep you from it for so long, I really did, but then Vecna killed Chrissy in your trailer and the whole town blamed you and you were just a part of things then, there was no getting around it. You helped us fight him - Vecna. You kept his army of bats off our ass while we weakened his body and El weakened his mind. If it weren’t for you we never would’ve defeated him and we certainly wouldn’t have all made it out alive.” Harrington’s gaze softens, as does his voice, his next words almost a whisper, “You were a hero, Eddie.” 

“That doesn’t sound like me,” Eddie says, like that’s the least plausible part of Harrington’s story. And, really, it is. He can wrap his mind around a lot of things: a murder in his trailer - sure, Forest Hills always was a shady place; the whole town accusing him of being a killer - yeah, of course, that tracks; even an evil wizard from another dimension with an army of bats - fine, okay, why the hell not. But Eddie Munson is no hero, and he’s definitely not any sort of fighter either.

“No, you never did think so, did you?” Harrington mutters with a sad sort of fondness and the barest trace of a wistful smile. “But it’s true. Dustin was in danger and you didn’t even think twice. You ran right into the fray without a second thought, sacrificed yourself so that the rest of us might survive. Those bats nearly killed you, b-” he breaks, choking on whatever word he was going to say. His eyes swim with yet more unshed tears. “I almost thought they had killed you, you know. I thought you were dead when I carried you out of the Upside-Down,” he admits shakily, choked up and barely managed, “and even when I brought you here and you were stable, I was still so scared you wouldn’t wake up…” 

Eddie doesn’t know how to react to any of that information or to such a display of emotion. His own hands twitch now with the urge to reach out and comfort him, but he too denies that instinct. He tries for humor instead, something lighter, cracking a grin and teasing, “Aw, Stevie, I didn’t know you cared.” 

Harrington makes a sound halfway between a sob and a laugh. “Oh, Ed, you have no idea.” 

“We were friends then, weren’t we?” Eddie guesses now, carefully. It’s rapidly becoming the only possible explanation for the guy’s behavior around him. “Before all the Vecna stuff?”

“Yeah,” Harrington manages, forcing a small, sad smile as his eyes finally overflow and streak his cheeks with tears. “Yeah, we were good friends.” 

~

Wayne reenters the room then with a nurse in tow, and Steve quickly turns away and rubs his hands over his face. He needs to pull himself together; he can’t break down right now, not yet, not here. 

He listens, distantly, as the nurse asks Eddie a bunch of questions and then tells the rest of them that she needs to take him in for some tests to determine the cause and prognosis of Eddie’s amnesia. He watches, numbly, as she wheels Eddie’s entire bed out of the room. 

Steve can barely hear, barely see, his emotion clouding his eyes and roaring in his ears. He stares blankly through the open doorway and struggles to swallow down the ever-rising lump in his throat. 

Wayne’s voice rumbles from somewhere beside him, but he can’t quite make out the words. “What?” 

“I’ll take that as a no, then,” Wayne says, the sound reaching Steve’s ears a little clearer now. “I asked if you were alright.” 

Steve shakes his head. His voice comes out coarse and raw, “‘Course I’m not alright.” 

“Right, ‘course you’re not,” Wayne echoes. He follows Steve’s mournful gaze to the door Eddie had disappeared through. “What did you tell him?” 

“Told him he was a hero,” Steve croaks, “...and that we were good friends.”

“Ah…” Steve’s vision is so blurred behind a thick layer of tears he can’t see the sympathetic frown on the old man’s face, but he knows it’s there. “At least he’s alive, kid,” Wayne tries to be comforting. “You can always start over.” 

“Yeah, I know, but I don’t- I don’t want to start over, I just want-” Steve chokes back a sob. He just wants Eddie.

It’s a horrible thought, but Steve almost thinks that this just might be worse than if Eddie really had died… Because how is Steve supposed to handle the fact that his boyfriend of 9 months no longer knows him? How is he supposed to cope now that the love of his life looks right at him and no longer sees him?

He closes his eyes, presses the heels of his palms into his eyelids, inhaling a shaky breath and exhaling an even shakier sigh. Steve whispers, “It feels like I’m losing him all over again.” 

(part two is here!)

(also on ao3)

[thekittyokat]

Hi! Please please please, could you tell me more about your coffin chain ideas?/nf

I am obsessed but barely anybody has jumped onto the ship yet and I am VERY new to the fandom so I wanna wait with making it myself until I know more lol. You are lowkey fueling this entire operations and I wanna thank you for that either way.

(rubs my paws together) you have no idea what you've unleashed anon i've been holding onto this ask specifically bc i've been sapping dopamine from it like a little leech waiting until i had time to hastily doodle up a little dynamics timeline for different stages of the ot4

i REALLY hope this makes sense . i feel the need to say this every time i post abt coffinchain but my ideas are rly specific and i've had time for them to infect my brain like mold so i'm defo ready to accept this all being rly niche and really just for me and like 3 other people

buuut if this little peek into my mind speaks to ANY of y'all i absolutely encourage implore and beg you to send me asks and ideas and whatnot about these 4 bastards literally whenever you want!!

TL;DR one half of the trauma bonded couple reaches out and forms an immediate kinship with the big scary guy that no one likes & convinces his petty boyfriend to let him fw them. then he starts bringing his deranged fbi otter around they start double-dating only for it to become a situationship and then the worst polycule ever

[skyward-floored]

Swapped (part 2)

Incredibles au power swap pt. 2! Checking in on some of the other boys, who are... struggling lol.

Part 1 | Next

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Hyrule woke up feeling cold.

A shiver went through him as he slowly came back to awareness, the cold feeling sinking into his very bones, and he wondered why whatever he was lying on was so hard and uncomfortable.

Why did his chest hurt? Why was he so cold? He hadn’t woken up like this since...

Since...

Panic smacked into him, and Hyrule‘s eyes flew open, his heart thudding as he looked around. He took in the unfamiliar walls around him, piles of rubble and dirt, and right as his heart began to pound with fear, he saw Time waking up, a hand held to his chest.

Hyrule sighed in relief, and carefully sat up himself, immediately feeling better. If dad was here, he wasn’t back on the streets, or... worse.

But... that didn’t really answer the question of where he actually was.

Before Hyrule could try and figure it out though, someone let out a panicked gasp. Hyrule jumped and turned around, and saw Wild sitting on the ground a few feet away, looking on the verge of hysterical.

“I’m— I’m slow,” Wild choked out, and Hyrule blinked in confusion as he watched Twilight stumble to his feet beside him, a hand held to his head.

“Wild, it’s all right,” Twilight said, taking a step, then yelped as he somehow went running across the room and straight into a wall. “Ow!”

“You took my speed!” Wild wailed, and Hyrule stared, watching as Twilight tried to get to his feet, but fell over again when his legs went too fast for him. He did a quick glance around the hallway, not seeing anyone else apart from his two brothers and dad. If he had to guess, the rest of his family was probably blocked off by the wall that had collapsed.

...Which had collapsed because of a weird explosion that had also knocked them all out. Right. Now he remembered.

Time properly sat up and looked at Wild and Twilight, his face creased with concern... and a little pain, Hyrule thought. Wild stopped yelling when he saw their dad move, but he still looked panicked, and it seemed like Twilight was afraid to move, his expression confused and fearful.

“Boys what is going on?” Time asked, and Twilight wrapped his arms around himself.

“I don’t know, I woke up and couldn’t hear barely anything and then Wild started yelling and somehow I have his speed and I can’t turn into a wolf,” he said rapidly, clutching at his hair.

“And now I don’t have anything!” Wild added, looking on the verge of tears.

Hyrule blinked, and an even colder feeling ran through him as he digested that. It looked like the explosion had done more than just collapse the wall and knock them out... it had also messed up Wild and Twilight’s powers.

...were they the only ones?

Hyrule quickly drew on his own powers, just to reassure himself nothing was wrong with them. He tried healing first, summoning a blue glow to his hands, but then the icy feeling that had been with him even since he’d woken up suddenly intensified, and Hyrule‘s stomach lurched.

The blue glow was the wrong color.

He tried again, more frantically, but the blue continued to be the wrong color, cold instead of the usual warm, and ice began to spread out from where Hyrule sat, only increasing his panic. Trying to shield brought up no results either, and Hyrule drew desperately on the strange cold power he could feel inside of him, trying to make it heal, to make it shield, do anything it was supposed to be doing.

All he could produce was ice.

Hyrule gasped, trying to stay calm, but not succeeding in the slightest at keeping back the wave of panic that was crashing over him.

What was happening? Anything he tried just kept turning into ice, shielding didn’t work, healing didn’t work, his...

His powers were gone.

The one thing he’d been able to rely on his entire life.

Hyrule felt his breath pick up, his heart pounding as more ice spread out from him. He wouldn’t be able to shield people anymore, protect himself and others from danger, he couldn’t heal, he wouldn’t be able to do anything if he or anyone else got hurt, all he could make was ice and ice and ice—

“Hyrule,” a voice said, and Hyrule looked up and saw his father had joined his side, a worried look on his face.

“Dad— I can’t— I can’t get my shield up,” Hyrule managed to choke out, clutching at his hair. “And my healing, it’s not working, it’s just ice—”

“Hyrule calm down,” Time reassured, holding out a hand.

“Why— why is it doing this, I— wait, don’t touch me! I’ll freeze you!” Hyrule choked as his father kneeled beside him, and Time ignored his words, taking his hands in his own.

They felt... warm.

“Hyrule, I’ve dealt with Warriors’ powers more times than I can count, you won’t freeze me. Calm down,” Time continued, and Hyrule’s brain stuck for a second on the phrasing. Warriors’ powers? “Focus on reining them in. It should be like your own powers, just a little different. Relax.”

Hyrule sucked in a deep breath, thinking slowly through Time’s words and trying to do what he said. He carefully pulled on the strange powers he had, trying to make the cold ease back and stop escaping from him like a leaky faucet, and the ice began to slow in its spread.

Encouraged by the results, he focused a littler harder, and the ice stalled as he took in more deep breaths, finally tamping his panic down to something more manageable. The ice had stopped, and he felt a little less cold as his hands stopped glowing.

The lack of warmth in his middle from both his powers was still terrifying, but Hyrule thought he could... work with it now.

...Maybe.

Hyrule let out one last shaky exhale, and Time squeezed his shoulder, Hyrule leaning into it and feeling much calmer.

“...thanks Dad,” he sighed, and Time nodded.

He stayed next to him for another few moments, letting him continue to calm down, but then Twilight yelped again, and Time drew back with a sigh. He pulled his hand off of Hyrule’s shoulder, but as he drew back, Hyrule let out a startled squeak.

Everything below his father’s elbow was missing.

Time jumped, a truly shocked look on his face, but before he could do anything, his fingers flickered back into view like they’d never been gone at all.

Hyrule and Time both stared at them, and Hyrule watched as Time’s arm abruptly faded out of view again, appearing and disappearing at random.

“You... have Legend’s invisibility?” he said hesitantly, beginning to get an idea of what might be going on, and his father slowly nodded, staring intensely at his hand. Whatever he was trying to do didn’t seem to work though, and he sighed, standing up and helping Hyrule stand as well.

“It looks like it. And you have Warriors’ ice, and Twilight has Wild’s speed,” Time said, and winced as Twilight tripped and landed on his face. “Twilight?”

“Fine,” his son called back weakly, and Time led Hyrule over to where Wild was still sitting in a mild panic.

He patted the both of them on the shoulder, looking into their eyes for a moment, then walked over to Twilight. Wild looked nearly as shaken as Hyrule felt, if not more, but he merely leaned against Hyrule’s arm, Hyrule leaning on him in return.

Looking at how unsettled Wild appeared, Hyrule wasn’t sure if he’d prefer having the ice he currently had, or the nothing Wild seemed to posses.

“Come on Twilight, you can stand,” Time said as he walked away, and Hyrule and Wild both watched him. Twilight was sitting up, but he still looked afraid to move, his face anxious. “You can do it.”

“I’ll just trip again! Why am I so fast all of a sudden? I don’t want Wild’s speed, I can barely hear anything like this or smell anything and I can’t turn into a wolf!” he said rapidly, and Time slowly helped him up.

“I believe our enemy decided to test something on us,” Time said, and Hyrule thought back to what the voice on the intercom had said. That would explain the test subject thing. “And if I'm right... somehow he switched around our powers.”

“But that’s not possible,” Wild spoke up as Time carefully guided Twilight over to them, “you can’t just... switch powers! That’d be like me and Hyrule randomly switching heads!”

“Well somehow he’s done it,” Twilight grimaced.

“And we’ll probably have to stop him to get our proper powers back,” Time sighed, watching as his fingers disappeared from view again.

Hyrule looked around at his family, more then half of them missing from the room, Twilight pale with anxiety, Wild still unhappy about being slow, random bits of their father occasionally disappearing from view.

This... just got a lot more complicated.

Wild looked at Time’s arms, watching as they randomly faded in and out of view, and a grin suddenly stretched across his face, wide and mischievous.

“Dad, did you get both of Legend’s powers?” he asked, and Hyrule and Twilight both turned to look at him as well, Hyrule unable to stop his smile as he realized what he meant.

“I have no idea. And even if I did, I’m not testing it right now,” he said dryly, and Wild and Hyrule both made disappointed noises. “Sorry boys. We need to focus on fixing this mess.”

“Have you tried to contact anyone yet?” Twilight asked, and Time shook his head, pulling out his communication device.

“That’s what I was on to next. I think it’s safe to say everyone’s powers got messed up, so it’s unlikely Artemis is going to come find us.”

“Unless whoever got her powers does,” Wild pointed out, and Twilight shook his head.

“I doubt it. We can barely control the ones we got. I mean, if I’d gotten intangibility, I don’t think I would want to test it by trying to walk through a collapsed wall.”

Hyrule winced. That was a good point. It probably wouldn’t end well if whoever got Artemis’s powers couldn’t use them very well, and accidentally came back in the middle of the wall.

Time busied himself with trying to get his radio working, and Twilight did his best to help him, his leg jittering so rapidly it blurred a bit. Hyrule looked back at Wild, his brother looking miserable, then ignored the urge to shiver as he drew his knees up to his chest.

Why did Warriors’ powers have to be so cold? He thought his uncle had said that the cold didn’t even bother him, why was Hyrule so freezing?

Why couldn't they just be straight-forward like mine?

Hyrule sighed and glanced back at Wild again, frowning when he saw his expression had dimmed even further while he watched Twilight’s leg jitter rapidly in place.

“Are you alright Wild?” Hyrule asked, and Wild shrugged, making the face he made when he was trying to appear unbothered.

“Yeah. I’m fine. You’re... kinda pale though,” he said, looking over Hyrule. "You okay?"

Hyrule shrugged, trying not to look as shaken as he still felt. He knew Wild probably just wanted to help, but he was pretty sure if he thought about his switched-up-also-missing powers too long he’d cry.

Wild somehow read his expression though, and after a moments hesitation, put his arm around Hyrule’s shoulder, giving him a little squeeze.

“It’ll be okay,” Wild said. “We’ll figure it out, Roolie.”

And for some reason Hyrule believed him, the words like a warm blanket on his still-shaky nerves. He near-immediately relaxed, and Wild looked at him in surprise as he leaned on him more, before realization flirted across his face.

“Oh. I got Mom’s,” he said, and Hyrule looked at him weirdly.

“Huh?”

“I got Mom’s powers. You know, she has her whole horse-soothing voice she uses, it’s really good at calming down horses and other animals. I... guess it also works on people?” Wild said hesitantly. “At least I think that’s what that was.”

Hyrule blinked, not sure how he felt about that. But for some reason the thought didn’t seem too worrying, so he shrugged, and set his head on Wild’s shoulder. He was nice and warm, and helped chase away some of the chill.

“Guess so. We’ll have to find a horse so you can test it,” Hyrule murmured, and Wild let out a quiet laugh.

A sigh caught their attentions, and the two looked over at Time and Twilight, both of their face grim.

“No luck,” Time said as he put his radio away with a frown. “It's being blocked. Looks like we’re on our own for now.”

“We should try and find the others then, right?” Twilight asked. “Because not to underestimate us right now, but uh... I don’t know if we can take on this scientist guy in the state we’re in.”

“I could,” Wild said with a bite to his voice. “I’m going to punch that jerk right in the mouth for taking my speed.���

“We were all headed for the top floor when we were ambushed, we’ll continue heading that way,” Time decided, rolling his shoulder. “The others will doubtlessly be working their way that direction as well, so we’ll try to meet up with them on the way. Are you all good to go?” he asked, looking at Twilight and Hyrule especially.

Hyrule nodded, and Twilight glared at his feet, then sighed.

“Yeah. I can walk.”

“Good. Let’s get going then,” Time said with a nod.

And as he took a step forward, he was suddenly doused in shadows.

Everyone jumped, and Hyrule stared as the shadows grew smaller, condensing most intensely by the floor. He had a brief moment of panic before he recognized what the shadows meant, and he froze, exchanging quick glances with his siblings.

The shadows faded away mere moments later, and a small, one-eyed rabbit was left sitting dazedly on the ground.

Hyrule, Wild, and Twilight stared.

Then Wild fell to the floor laughing, and Hyrule bit his lip to stop his own from escaping, the rabbit that was now their father twitching his nose in alarm. He shouldn’t laugh, he really shouldn’t, but Time was so small, and fluffy, and seeing his father as a rabbit of all things was just...

Hyrule couldn’t help his giggle, and Twilight knelt beside Time, their father swiveling his ears in his direction and giving him a wide-eyed look.

“Are you, um, okay Dad?” Twilight asked, his mouth twitching, and Time blinked once or twice, before letting out a rather squeaky sigh.

“I’m fine. Come on, the sooner we fix this the better,” he grumbled, voice slightly squeaky, and began hopping in the direction they’d planned to go in.

Wild finally stopped laughing, though it was a close thing when he saw Time hopping determinedly across the floor. Twilight followed after their father, and Hyrule and Wild trailed behind, Wild still letting out an occasional giggle.

"I guess that answers the question of whether he has both of Legend's powers," he snickered, and Hyrule shook his head in disbelief. This day couldn't get any weirder.

Twilight lifted Time up to sit on his shoulder after only a minute or two of walking, their father's face surprisingly grim for a rabbit, and Hyrule glanced at them, anxiety still churning in his stomach.

He still felt a little shaky and unsure from the shock of his powers being gone, worried for the rest of their group, and Time being a mostly-defenseless rabbit only added another layer to that. But Wild seemed confident, and Twilight and Time were both putting on brave faces, so Hyrule decided he would be too.

They could do this. They’d stop the scientist guy, and make him fix this.

Screwed up powers or not.

And Hyrule kept telling himself that, even when Twilight lost control of his legs again and smacked into a wall mere moments later.

[fumifooms]

Your post about falin manifested some Thoughts in me. Seeing how such a big part of her arc was becoming more independent and discovering what She wants to do, mixed with a lot of parts in the manga where she is much more comfortable looking masculine - embarrassed about how blushy she is but not really liking makeup, enjoying more masculine clothes, that one haircut swap where she seemed really happy in laios' cut, it made me realize there's totally some room for even some transmasc falin headcanons! Or at the very least, she's definitely GNC and it would be fun to see that explored in fanfic and fanart... anyway, your in depth analysis posts have really inspired me, got me itching to create some obscure dunmeshi fancontent or analysis now!

Omg…… I’ve never fully thought about it but you’re so right transmasc Falin would go so hard… There’s also how she idolizes Laios a lot… Male older brother role model she puts on a pedestral, could play into her relationship with it. Because of the dragon I like to see her as intersex, including post-canon but beyond that I always saw her as being the more or less agender type that just goes with whatever she feels fits her better, the sort of cis by default for lack of caring about it all that much, not unlike how I consider Laios cis by default but if you dig deep enough there’s otherkin stuff going on in there… Def agree with GNC Falin.

She and Toshiro have some interesting parallels, of being passive and suppressing themselves for the convenience of others, it’s a reason why seeing her being unabashedly entranced by a bug struck him so much— himself being a bug fan and polishing his demeanor to be perfectly respectable. Because of that and including specific details like getting told "boys don’t cry" by Hien- Actually just let me link this excellent post about trans Toshiro. Transfem Toshiro is so compelling and I think pairing it with transmasc Falin would be very interesting… The gender envy of it all, the talks… Need them to go on a trip together post-canon so so bad, life changing self-discovery camping trip

I’ll be munching on this... I love it. Your reblog tags have been a delight, I’m so happy I could inspire you in any way! So looking forward to what you might make in the future

[jichanxo]

commissioning @vos-videmus was a life changing experience. forcing you all to look at this immediately (please don't repost or crop out the watermarks. thanks 👍)

[she-posts-nerdy-stuff]

Who’s ready for another six of crows fic idea even though I haven’t written the first one yet?

Nearly 10 years after the events of Crooked Kingdom, 25-year-old Captain Inej Ghafa liberates Maya, a 16-year-old Fjerdan girl, from a pleasure house in Ketterdam. Maya is grateful to Inej, but she’s also vengeful and wants to track down the man who led her to her position. She explains to Inej that she and her father fled to Kerch when they discovered she was Grisha, adding that they didn’t go to Ravka for fear of prejudice against Fjerdans. But in Ketterdam, already struggling, they found themselves scammed out of their money and informed of massive debts they owed to a gang. With no other options, her father sold her in indenture to a council member and used the money to pay the debt, promising her that he would find a way to save enough money to pay out her contract as soon as he could. 2 months into her indenture, Maya received news of her father’s death after he was killed by the same gang leader who he’d originally been in debt to - apparently trying to steal the money he needed to free her. Mere weeks after this, the councilman who owned Maya’s contract died. Her contract changed hands several times, until she eventually found herself trapped in a pleasure house. Maya wants to track down the gang leader and avenge her father. Although she intends to negotiate Maya away from killing him and encourage her to find a route to healing, Inej agrees to help her find her father’s murderer. She asks Maya is she knows anything about him that could help her to begin her search, and Maya replies that all she knows is his name: Kaz Brekker.

[alohawhore]

Fics I got percolating (as a preview for those maybe interested but mostly for my own sorting of thoughts)

Actively in progress:

the feel of coolness only water brings - MASH; traphawk; angsty magical realism fic involving selkie lore, finding closure, and lots of weather symbolism

soldier, poet, king (working title) - MASH; houlipiercintyre; canon-divergent high fantasy fic heavily inspired by the chronicles of narnia/dungeons & dragons/etc

how to trap a hawk (working title) - MASH; traphawk; angsty post-canon reconciliation fic with wintertime in crabapple cove, lots of rumination, and what it means to be mentally ill in mid-century America

Ideas that need to be put to paper:

A What Dreams May Come/orpheus tale inspired fic where Hawkeye is Eurydice and both BJ and Trapper are Orpheus

Sci-fi MASH AU where it’s kinda the same but in SPACE

Horror MASH fic of some kind - leaning toward a Malevolent-esque fic where Hawkeye becomes possessed by an entity that steals his sight and good hand, but he keeps the rest of his faculties and no one is (hopefully) the wiser

Time-travel!MASH mostly so I can explore their reaction to the fact the entire exercise in Korea really was pointless and nothing they did resulted in any lasting peace. But also need to see them interact with the Internet. So.

And in the same vein of self-indulgence: a Star Wars/MASH crossover of some kind

[passionartx]

Tails when I start thinking about my fic, au and art ideas I’ve had lingering in my brain for years but almost all of them involve making him sad ^

Sorry little buddy <\3 😔

[moossings]

drawn in

the f1 mafia au that no one asked for and won't leave my brain at all. mainly charlos, but featuring most of the grid and ex drivers. i've been worldbuilding with @5ainz (bless for bearing with me) and in between drawings and character sheets, i ventured to write this tiny snippet to hype myself (and be less scared of writing). if you read this, thank you and enjoy! ✨

-

“You shouldn't be here.”

Carlos’ eyes don’t move from the painting. The Death of the Virgin, by Caravaggio. He smiles to himself, shaking his head. He wouldn’t expect less from the Rosso Corsa, always proud and ready to show off their legacy. Come to think about it, everything in his life was linked to red somehow. And at the same time, inevitably, to the wounds it left.

“Are you going to kick me out, altezza reale? Like a bad behaved dog?” He does turn his head then. His tone is supposed to be mocking, but the moment brown eyes meet green, his resolution falters.

Charles Leclerc, composed as ever, stands on the door, as if he had just closed it. Carlos swears he hears the lock turn as well, but his mind is rather busy tracking every single hair out of place, from the top of his head to the strands scattering on his forehead. His gun feels heavy where it rests in its holster under his jacket.

“And aren’t you the most loyal one? Fernando must be proud.” Charles leaves the door to stand next to Carlos, shoulders almost brushing but not close enough. It’s their thing, throw knives and dodge, push and pull. The Inspector’s little prince and the right hand of the Spanish Samurai.

The silence between them is not awkward, but it feels tense in the same way the air is charged right before a storm. They look at the painting, but the details they recollect are not the brushstrokes or perspective of the piece. It’s the subtle hints of cologne coming off Charles’ skin when he tilts his head, following the lines of the old wood on the frame instead of the ones of Carlos’ perfectly tailored suit. It’s the flex on Carlos’ clenched fists as his mind repeats over and over how very not good it would be to reach and find out how Charles’ hands feel with their fingers laced.

“Did you know,” Carlos says, his voice almost a whisper. “This painting was rejected by the patron who commissioned it. No one had ever painted the actual death of the Virgin, it was a dogma, and Caravaggio depicted her as mortal: pale, bloated and devoid of spirit.” He sighs and looks sideways at Charles, from under his lashes. “It is also said that Caravggio painted her after a prostitute, so maybe that was the real reason.”

Charles tries to school his features, to stop the smile from being evident, but those sweet dimples betray him. Time to stop pretending, it seems. “I didn’t know you were interested in art.” He turns to face Carlos fully, carefully studying the strong features he usually only catches in glimpses. He is setting the ground for truce, building the bridge.

Carlos chuckles, and it sounds tired. “Really? Don’t tell me Sebastian didn’t include it in my file. He used to be more thorough with his research, he is starting to slip.” But he still faces Charles, willing to meet him halfway. “There is a lot more that you couldn’t possibly know.”

“What if I wanted to find out? What would it take?” Charles takes a step forward. Carlos lets him.

“Stupidity. Recklessness. Naivety.” He counts with his fingers, brows furrowed but playful smirk. Charles can’t really tell which one he actually means. “Trust.”

“That sounds like a challenge, Sainz.” And Charles has never backed up from one. Today is not the day he’ll start.

He extends his hand and, in seconds, a warm bigger one takes it in a firm but soft grip.

“It’s Carlos.” A smirk draws up the corners of his full lips. “You are in for a ride, cariño.”

[daffi-990]

Seven(ish) Sentence Sunday ✍️

Tagged by @tizniz (who posted 21K of fluffy dad!buddie goodness that you can read here). Thank you lovely 😘❤️

Now that turns out freedom ain’t nothing but missing you (aka the Eddie pulls away from Buck after the graveyard scene fic) is finished, I can dive back into Rival Firefighters and hopefully the Eddie breakdown fic (feel like I may be. bit stuck atm with that one).

Snuck in some tipity tap typing time this morning and was able to get a little bit more of Rival Firefighters 🚒 written (not as much as I would’ve liked but hey, it’s something 🤷🏻‍♀️).

Prev snippet here, though today’s snippet actually follows on a little bit after this one (yes I’m aware I’m posting snippets out of order but I write a little out of order soooooo)

Buck’s seen pictures of Shannon around the Diaz house but they really don’t do her justice. Shannon’s hair is up in a high ponytail, her bangs accentuating the feminine softness of her face and when she turns to look at Buck and offers him a friendly smile like she’s genuinely pleased to see him, Buck understands how Eddie was so easily drawn to her.

She’s beautiful.

The way her blue eyes light up when she smiles reminds Buck of sunlight dancing on water. Sparkling light reflection he thinks it’s called.

She extends a hand out to him. “I’m Eddie’s very platonic, ex wife, Shannon.” She says with a mischievous grin.

Eddie closes his eyes and brings a hand up to his face to pinch the bridge of his nose as he mutters in Spanish under his breath. “Dios Mio”.

A little confused at the way she’d introduced herself, Buck accepts her offered hand. “Uh, I’m Buck”

“Oh I know” she says with a glint in her eyes. Buck tilts his head and raises an eyebrow in question. Shannon glances at Eddie who is pointedly not looking at her or Buck. “You’ve been a hot topic in the Diaz family ever since Eddie joined the 136.”

“Oh have I?” Buck says with smug satisfaction as he turns his attention to Eddie who actually squirms at the attention.

“I had to bi—,” Eddie’s eyes quickly flick over to Chris, “complain to someone about the annoying probie I kept running into.”

“Uh huh.” Buck couldn't keep the stupid smile off of his face even if he wanted to.

No pressure tagging: @wildlife4life @hippolotamus @diazsdimples @spotsandsocks @thewolvesof1998 @wikiangela @watchyourbuck @monsterrae1 @malewifediaz @missmagooglie @exhuastedpigeon @elvensorceress @eddiebabygirldiaz @evanbegins @nmcggg @rainbow-nerdss @bekkachaos @rewritetheending @try-set-me-on-fire @theotherbuckley @captain-hen @puppyboybuckley @loserdiaz @ladydorian05 @lover-of-mine @alliaskisthepossibilityoflove @athenagranted @king-buckley @jesuisici33 @jeeyuns @sibylsleaves @steadfastsaturnsrings @honestlydarkprincess @homerforsure @hoodie-buck @devirnis @disasterbuckdiaz @giddyupbuck @fiona-fififi @fortheloveofbuddie and anyone else I missed who wants to join 🤩

[tenderwatches]

[kyraisdead]

Drunken Tears - Pt 4. (Copia x Reader, VIOLENCE but not towards reader!)

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3! And on AO3 right here!

Secondo sat in the library, silently working on some restoration project he'd been assigned after a Sibling managed to spill ink all over a century-old book—stupid child. His hands, especially his left, were stiff as they worked, wrapped loosely in a thin bandage. His knuckles were slightly raw, the middle one bloodied from the one-sided fight he'd had with his girl earlier.

She was good, though—loved him to a fault like a callow puppy. She wouldn't tell anyone. Still, the memory of the look on her face was indelible. She was pretty when she cried those opalescent tears. He knew he was a sick bastard for thinking so.

"Fratello."

He raised his head, glancing to his side before grunting and spinning in his office chair. "Copia," he greeted. Not a time for little brother, he could tell by the younger man's tone.

"What happened to your hand?" he asked, raising a brow in an almost rhetorical question. Not quite. He wanted to see the older man squirm at his words. Still, his equanimity was unshaken.

"Something sharp. Stupid accident," Secondo replied pointedly, a subtle jab that would've come across as nothing had he been speaking to anyone else. Copia had not received the blessing of unawareness that the Siblings possessed.

"You disgusting piece of- Come dorme la notte?" Secondo felt the floor tremble from the sheer force of Copia's footsteps as he surged toward the older man, hands balled in tight fists, only loosening to grab onto the shoulders of Secondo's shirt as he dragged him out of his chair, throwing him onto the floor. His movements didn't cease for a second as he approached again, falling to his knees inelegantly as he grabbed his collar, shaking him slightly. He was trembling, enraged at the thought that somebody could still be on their side when they were utterly wrong.

"Il Sonno?" Secondo questioned through gritted, almost smiling teeth. "Very well, actually, in my bed without the constant talking. If it didn't make me look like a cuck, I would have you take her to bed with you more often."

"For Satan's sake, Secondo, you know I didn't do that!" Copia said, his grip wavering momentarily at the accusation. He would've been okay with the idea of being with her, but it was her sake he worried over. He was a Papa. He wouldn't pay the price for rumors of infidelity. Only she would have to bear the burden, in her mind and on her body.

Secondo somehow had the nerve to grin at him. "It doesn't matter what you did," he replied. "She still feels guilty. She still feels violated."

Copia didn't know what came over him at that moment. Never had he been irascible, but the irrefragable disgustingness of his older brother's words made his anger deflagrate, turning from the crackling kindling of frustration to the all-consuming, all-damaging force of rage. Missing his better judgment, he pulled his fist back for momentum before it collided with Secondo's face.

The man's head reeled back, hitting the floor with a sickening cssh! More to stop himself from going further than to give any mercy, Copia stood, wiping his hand on his black slacks.

"Do you like how it feels?" he hissed. "To be held down and beaten? Doesn't feel pleasant, now does it?"

Secondo groaned, slowly pushing himself up into a sitting position. He wiped his nose haphazardly, feeling the building ache around his eyes. "I didn't beat her," he said, his words weak despite the equanimous quality his tone took. "I hit her. You're acting as if I murdered the girl."

Copia sighed shakily. "Somehow, I think she would've been less hurt if you did," he replied, concerned. He swallowed thickly, placing his hand on the table and squeezing in an attempt to calm himself and keep his hands busy, or at least away from an assault charge. His gaze hardened then, and he turned away. "I want you to stay away from her, Secondo."

Secondo scoffed. "She's my partner, and you're asking me to stay away from her?" It was a ridiculous, unreasonable request. "If you're looking to try and make her feel better, then I don't think that would be the way to go."

"I think being around you has hurt her enough," he replied, placing his hand against the heavy door. "I want her things out of your room. Tell her what you will. Preferably, write a letter." He heard the older man snort.

"Do you believe you intimidate me?" Secondo sneered. "You don't. I could pull the envelope opener out of the desk right now and kill you in cold blood. Right now? I wouldn't feel an ounce of guilt."

"And I could get you thrown out of this Ministry!" Copia shouted, turning around abruptly to face his older brother. "You forget your place. You weren't the first, you weren't the handsomest, you weren't the favorite! You're not even here by blood, and you don't have enough heart to love your way into Imperator's favor. You're lucky I don't tell Imperator what you did. She would look at you with the same amount of disgust she did Nihil. At least Nihil never hit her or anybody," he says, nails digging through his gloves and palms. Secondo had flaws, but it hurt to know that the man he once idolized was evil enough to do such a thing.

It took all of his willpower not to approach Secondo, not to kick him in the side and stomp in his chest until he felt half the pain Copia did when he saw tears in that angel's eyes. "It's not your childhood, Secondo. It's not the ricochet of our grandfather's neglect, and it's not our father that causes you to be this way," he says, clutching the brass handle of the door with a trembling hand. "It's the fact that if I were to cut your chest open right now, in place of your soul, there would only be rot."

And with that, he left.