#if nothing else i'm certainly going to write a fic about it between now and then 💀

[lizardkingeliot]

Lestat trying to piss Louis off via petty song lyrics IS going to work and I can’t wait to witness how insane the sex they have about it is going to be 🥰

(source)

[silenzahra]

⚡ An electrical aura ⚡

Ah, it feels so good to be back with a new story after so long! 😌

As I mentioned here, in this fic you will find one of my favorite topics to consume in any kind of fanwork:

✨⚡ Protective Luigi ⚡✨

I would've liked to post this story a couple of days ago to coincide with Mario and Luigi's birthday (even though the story has nothing to do with the date itself) as a way of celebrating their bond as brothers that we all love and adore so much 🥹💚❤️

Still, I'm glad I can share it now as this is one of the many fanfics I've been planning to write... for more than a year 😶

And at long last, here it is! 😄

@pepperycar @bberetd @vulpixfairy1985 @megamagimugi @roscolate

@peaches2217 @zocchini37 @itsavee4117 @keakruiser @multicolour-ink

@dragon-fly34 @eleventhhourfactor @stripetkattelalala54-gf @kelbreyworshipper @doodleydoo101

@c-lavanda @teegeeteegee and anyone else who might be interested: hope you enjoy! 💖

And as always: you can keep reading under the cut if you'd like! 👇

(Please remember that likes, comments, kudos, reblogs and any kind of feedback is always more than welcome 🥰)

⚡ An electrical aura ⚡

TW: Blood, violence (not too much though)

Luigi doesn't like being separated from his brother.

It was hard enough having to leave him behind when he got sick to go in search of the antidote. Luigi swallows as he remembers how scared he was when he saw Mario's skin turn green after consuming that strange mushroom and how his feet practically flew to the Mushroom Kingdom embassy, carrying his twin in his arms, to take him to the princess and try to get him help.

This time, however, at least Luigi has the comfort and relief of knowing that his brother is safe, even if he’s not at his side.

The moment they came across that first barred door, Luigi immediately understood that his twin wouldn’t have a chance to follow him, that he’d have to go on alone and that Mario would have to find his own way. Luigi gave him a glance full of consternation and, for a very brief moment, his brother returned exactly the same look. Before, of course, forcing himself to hide it so as not to show discouragement in front of his little brother and, instead, give him a reassuring grin.

Luigi smiles to himself as a pleasant tenderness spreads across his chest and warms his heart. That's his big brother: always ready to appear strong and confident to protect his younger sibling and not to worry him, all with the purpose of preventing Luigi’s anxiety from getting any worse.

Looking around, Luigi puts his hands to his chest in some sort of reflex action, trying to keep the warmth that the thought of his brother brings up inside him. For, not to his luck, everything around him is ice and more ice. Joke’s End is an inhospitable, deserted, cold place. It certainly serves its purpose of functioning as a kind of graveyard for jokes, for while the other places in the Beanbean Kingdom that he and Mario have visited had much more cheerful names and were also full of life, this place is far from the mainland and, except for the monsters and that strange blue girl with the scepter that has greeted them, it’s also the loneliest place in the entire kingdom.

Luigi hugs himself as he continues looking at his surroundings with a parched throat and a sense of dread growing inside him. He’s never felt so alone in his entire life.

He only hopes that this ordeal is about to end. He followed the path marked by the place itself, hit the necessary blocks and battled alone against various monsters, despite the insecurity produced by not having his twin with him so that they could perform their combined attacks.

Not to mention the several occasions on which he’s been able to see Mario through a barred door without either of them finding a way to bridge the distance between them. All those times, Luigi has clung to the bars as if he could make them disappear in his fingers so he could finally be reunited with his brother, and Mario hasn’t hesitated to approach him and place his hands on his twin’s, gazing at him affectionately while he gave him words of encouragement and, again, smiles filled with confidence.

“Soon we'll be together, Lu,” he assured him, and Luigi could practically touch the certainty that permeated every word his brother spoke. “We'll soon find a way, you'll see.”

Despite his anxiety and his many insecurities, Luigi has never doubted Mario. He always believes in his promises, unquestioningly, because he knows that his twin wouldn't tell him if he didn't truly believe in them and if he wasn't willing to do everything in his power to keep them.

And he always does. Mario has never, ever failed Luigi. Not once in their entire lives.

Therefore, Luigi trusts. He trusts Mario blindly, just as he has since the day they were born, and he’ll continue to trust him until the day he dies.

So that's what keeps him going: the certitude that Mario's words will come true sooner or later. The assurance that everything his brother tells him is as true as the sun will always rise at the end of the darkest night and the light will shine again. Just as bright as Mario’s smile.

This time, whether they manage to reunite depends on a strange puzzle that, once again, they must solve by working together, even though they’re physically separated. This is not the first time, of course: when they’ve seen each other through barred doors, it’s been because they had to hit twin blocks in unison in order to activate different mechanisms, and there have even been times when they haven’t been able to see one another but have felt each other's presence through the thick walls of ice that make up Joke’s End.

As Luigi hits this last block, he hears a sound coming from outside. Both he and Mario have just crossed walkways that ran parallel to each other and converged at two different doors in the building, and they’ve helped each other to move forward until they’ve reached, at least in Luigi's case, a dead-end room. After hitting the block, Luigi retraces his steps towards the walkway he has just crossed and discovers that a frozen bridge has emerged between the two.

“Yes!”

Luigi can't and won't hold back the squeal of relief and excitement that bubbles up from his throat. Without wasting any time, he runs across the footbridge to cross to the other side and begins to follow the path that Mario must have taken. He wonders if he’ll bump into his sibling, if he too has started running, if he’s as eager as Luigi is to hold him in his arms. The smile on the younger plumber’s face widens, for he’s sure that Mario feels the same way. He’s about to join his big brother in a tight embrace, and this time, he won’t let Mario get away from him again.

Then, as he climbs up some latticed platforms, a high-pitched scream rings in his ears and is suddenly cut off.

Due to the surprise, Luigi almost stops in his tracks as he feels how the air escapes from his lungs and an icy fist grips his heart. And it has nothing to do with the cold prevailing in the place.

It only takes him a moment, however, to resume running, giving his legs more speed.

“Mario!”

He leaps over some ice blocks and manages to reach the next room. He skids across the ice when he realizes that he’s at a high location and that, to his right and left, there are two sets of steps leading down to the bottom of the room.

And down there, right in the middle, is Mario.

The blood runs cold in Luigi's veins as he discovers his brother lying on the ground, completely motionless, with traces of dirt on his clothes and a red stain crowning his forehead, his hat fallen just short of his head. With a horrified gasp, Luigi doesn't give it a second thought: he runs to the edge of the step, bends down and jumps, landing in a crouch a short distance from where Mario lays. He moves practically on all fours towards his twin, his heart pounding in his chest and his eyes so wide that he thinks they'll end up popping out of their sockets.

“Mario,” he mumbles in a nervous whisper.

He carefully places a hand under Mario's head and slowly lifts him up as he slides his knees under his body to try to give him some comfort. He pulls him closer as he continues to whisper his name, but his brother does not respond. There’s blood on his neck and one of his knees, Luigi notices. Feeling the anguish growing inside him, he examines the crimson stain on Mario's forehead, as it seems to be the most serious wound. His white glove is immediately covered in red. Wheezing, Luigi raises his hand in front of his face and stares at it, blinking in awe, as if his brain is having trouble processing what his eyes are seeing.

Mario's blood coats Luigi’s fingers.

The distress that floods him begins to transform, little by little, into something different. Something that causes small sparks of electricity to sizzle around him.

It is then that he becomes aware of their presence.

Luigi blinks a little to focus his eyes, as they’re blurry, he doesn't know why, and lowers his hand without any haste. He places it protectively on Mario's chest, which, fortunately, rises and falls, evidence that he continues to breathe, albeit slowly and heavily. Luigi pulls him a little closer to himself, his hand still holding his twin's head with extreme care. His breathing is getting more and more arduous and laborious, and his cheeks are getting wet, but he’s not even aware of it.

In front of him stand three of the many monsters that plague the place. Luigi has faced several of them before, both alone and in the company of his brother, so he recognizes them immediately. A Glurp, which spews toxic clouds that have on occasion poisoned him or Mario, causing his sibling to be extremely grateful for Luigi's efforts to carry extra Refreshing Herbs in their luggage. An Ice Snifit, whose spiky chunks of ice have frozen his soul and against which only his brother's Firebrand has been effective enough to eradicate its effects.

And lastly... a Clumph.

His green skin makes Luigi think of a nurse’s uniform. His purple hair reminds him of a bunch of grapes.

And finally... that huge club that he carries everywhere.

In all likelihood, this Clumph is the main reason why his big brother is lying unconscious in his arms.

Out of pure instinct, Luigi squeezes Mario a little tighter as his brow furrows. How dare that damned Clumph hurt his twin in such a way. How dare he stand there, in front of him, carrying his club on his shoulder as if he hadn't just dealt it with all his might on Mario's forehead. How dare he give him that goofy look with which he pretends to be completely innocent.

How dare he.

“How dare you,” Luigi mumbles without even being aware of it.

The particles of electricity around Luigi have increased in intensity and power. His breathing has accelerated so much that snorts escape from his mouth, and the hair on his arms has bristled under his green shirt. The plumber hears the roar of thunder, but he can’t tell where it comes from. He does take a glimpse of a glow that illuminates the place green, though. Without taking his eyes off the Clumph, Luigi reaches an arm over Mario to grab his brother’s hat and places it under his twin’s head as he lays him extremely gently on the ground. Then, taking his time, he stands up. His enemies don't miss his every move either, the Ice Snifit and Glurp ready to attack.

Luigi, however, is not going to give them the slightest chance.

His veins burn so much that he feels like he's going to explode at any moment. Rage has invaded every inch of his body and is spreading through his nerve endings like a thunderstorm that threatens to burst and destroy him in the process.

Luigi is more than willing to let it out.

He can't remember ever feeling this way, either before or after acquiring his Thunderhand, but he's not going to hold back. These enemies dared to touch his brother. They dared to attack him when Luigi was finally on his way to reunite with him. They dared to inflict Mario a wound that has robbed him of consciousness. They dared to spill his blood.

It will be the last thing they will do in their lives.

Anger controls his every move when Luigi unhurriedly steps over Mario's body and walks heavily towards his rivals, as if he were nothing more than a puppet in the hands of the strongest wrath. Although they try to look determined and ready to fight, the monsters sense the aura that surrounds Luigi, the aura of someone who is willing to do anything to get revenge, the aura of someone who will stop at nothing to protect what is most precious to him in the world.

An electrical aura that brings thunder at lightning in its wake.

As he walks, Luigi clenches his fists at his sides and rebellious sparks escape from them. He feels that both his mustache and his hair under his hat have bristled, and his cheeks are now so dampened that he feels them cold, but he doesn't care. He continues to move, his breathing harsh and uneasy, his heart pounding in his chest, and he feels an unexpected surge of satisfaction sweep over him when he realizes that his enemies, cornered, have bumped into the icy wall of the building surrounding them.

They have no escape.

Luigi's fury, on the other hand, does.

Growling under his breath, the plumber closes his eyes and allows the energy pulsing in his veins to take complete control.

His arms rise up, his palms pointing towards his enemies. Electricity courses through his body, surging from deep within him and rushing to his hands. Against all odds, a sense of warm calm invades Luigi as he feels his electric magic dance up and down, flooding every inch of his body, reaching every corner of his essence and causing a fleeting smile to play across his lips.

He has never felt so powerful.

Before the first streak bursts from Luigi's fingertips, his eyelids part, but there’s no trace of pupil in his gaze.

There’s only room for electricity.

Luigi's eyes are entirely white as his power begins, at last, to be released. Jets of light, sometimes blue, sometimes green, emerge from his hands, lethal, deadly, and it takes Luigi a moment to realize that he’s begun to emit a low snarl that, gradually, turns into a scream with which he frees all the emotions that boil inside him. The fear of losing his brother. The rage for what they’ve done to him. The thirst for revenge, which had never before blinded him so much.

In fact, Luigi realizes that everything he sees is white. An immaculate white, dotted with sizzling green and blue flashes, which prevent him from checking what his magic is doing, what his hands are causing. Nor is he able to perceive any sound, as if his ears were underwater, in a completely silent limbo that has cut him off from the outside world.

However, he quickly decides that he doesn't care. He doesn't care, because he feels invincible. He’s filled with fierce drive that fuels his power and begs him to go on, to not stop, to continue giving it free rein. The euphoria of the moment is so strong that it becomes addictive, something Luigi clings to with all his might.

It's all for his brother.

Mario deserves that and more. Mario deserves the whole world.

Despite Luigi’s blindness, which, he hopes, is temporary, the image of his twin appears clearly in front of him. His beloved Mario, always so cheerful and smiling, always ready to fight for those he loves, always ready for battle. Always determined to protect Luigi and spare him all harm, but also full of unshakable faith in his little sibling.

A faith that has always been Luigi's driving force throughout his entire life.

If it were not for Mario, Luigi simply wouldn’t believe in himself. If it were not for Mario, Luigi wouldn’t have learned to fight, both for himself and for those he loves. If it were not for Mario, Luigi would not be who he is today.

If it weren't for Mario, Luigi wouldn't be here right now.

So he's not going to give up. He’ll continue to defend his brother the same way Mario has always defended him. He won't let those damn monsters get close to his sibling again. He won't let them get a chance to hurt him again.

He won't let them get away with it.

However, as he unleashes all his power and his unstoppable energy travels through his body and gushes from his hands, Luigi empties himself. He empties himself of the fear of losing Mario forever. He empties himself of all his anger, of all his resentment against the beings who have dared to harm his twin. He empties himself of all his thirst for revenge.

And he empties himself, also, of his electric magic.

Which carries with it a great part of his vitality.

Luigi blinks several times as the sparks around his vision begin to dim and the blinding white gradually fades. Before he can see anything, however, he notices his knees hit the icy ground, his legs unable to support him, and he begins to become aware of the noisy panting he’s emitting. He closes his eyes again and squeezes his eyelids tightly shut as he brings a hand to his chest in an attempt to calm his racing heart and regulate his rapid breathing. His entire body trembles violently, and he continues to see sparks, only, this time, there’s no trace of those green and blue flashes in them. All he sees is blackness and darkness.

A darkness so enveloping that it threatens to drag him into the deepest and most absolute unconsciousness.

Despite his exhaustion, Luigi can’t afford to faint now. This is no time to rest. He has to check what has happened while he was in that kind of electric trance, what has become of his enemies. He has to check in on Mario.

His brother needs him.

But the darkness is so tempting... What if he only lets himself be dragged along for a moment? Just enough to rest and regain his strength. Besides, his eyes are already closed. What's the difference if—?

“Lu?”

Luigi's eyelids flutter open as he lifts his head with a jerk. He only takes a moment to gaze at the frozen wall in front of him, empty, which makes him imagine that the monsters must have fled, frightened by the fierceness of his power.

But that’s not important now.

His head turns at lightning speed as he compels his exhausted limbs to move. In the midst of his wheezing, a wide grin blooms on his face as his eyes meet another pair, of the same limpid blue, gazing up at him in awe.

“Mario!” he exclaims.

Not wanting to waste any time, he propels himself onto the icy ground to stand up, only to drop to his knees again two seconds later, this time next to Mario. His brother watches him with half-opened eyes and a tired smile glistening on his lips as well. Luigi places a hand in his sibling’s hair, careful not to touch his wound so as not to hurt him more, and his heart fills with joy as he notices how his twin reaches for his hand.

When their fingers intertwine, they join with a force more sweeping than that of a hurricane and more intense than that of the most devastating thunderstorm.

“How are you feeling?”

“Was it you?”

The brothers share a few knowing laughs when they realize that they’ve spoken at the same time. They look at each other fondly, amused, and Luigi, feeling his heart calm at last, gladly gives the floor to his twin.

“I'm a little dizzy,” Mario confesses, his voice a faint murmur. “It hurts...”

He attempts to bring his free hand to his forehead, but Luigi gently restrains him.

“Don't touch it,” he asks, concerned. “You’re wounded, but I'm sure this will help.”

He begins to rummage in his pockets without letting go of his brother's fingers. He doesn't notice that his twin can’t take his eyes off him.

“Was it you, Luigi?” he asks again.

“What do you mean?” Luigi asks, pulling the fabric of his right pocket to try to get a glimpse of its contents.

“The electric shock,” says Mario. “I woke up and saw... Lightning bolts. Electricity. Blue... Green. And... I heard thunder.”

Luigi notices that his brother struggles to speak. Stressed, he begins to rummage in the chest pocket of his overalls, ignoring the fact that he feels exhausted too. Where the heck did he put them?

“Luigi.”

His twin's voice, tinged with a certain urgency, as well as the squeeze he gives his hand, cause Luigi to finally look up. He’s speechless when he notices the fixed, penetrating glance, bursting with curiosity, that Mario is giving him. He can’t help but be slightly startled and even blush, and immediately resumes his search.

“I-I don't know what happened,” he mumbles nervously, and he’s not lying.

“Lu, did you...?” Mario takes a few seconds to ask his question. “Did you just unleash a thunderstorm?”

As his fingers finally grab the 1-UP Super he was looking for, Luigi closes his eyes for a moment and takes a deep breath.

The truth is that he has no idea what just happened. He only knows that several emotions swirled inside him the moment he saw Mario's blood staining his glove red, and that he experienced them in a more overwhelming and powerful way than ever before. He’s never felt that fire in his chest, that tingling in his arms, that sensation of being unstoppable that has taken over his soul and has demanded to gush from his hands with more force than ever.

Luigi had no clue he was capable of such a thing.

“Lu?”

Mario's voice urges him to open his eyes again. His heart shrinks in his chest as soon as he notices the lingering worry in his brother's eyes, not yet completely lucid, but enough to be worried by his silence. Luigi tries to smile and shrugs as he holds out the mushroom.

“It's nothing,” he assures his twin. “I'm fine, but you're not. Eat this.”

“Luigi.” Mario lifts his other hand to push away the shroom. “Tell me what happened. Please. What did I see?”

Luigi will never cease to be amazed that his brother, even with a bleeding wound on his forehead, can still display his innate strength. He knows Mario too well to know that he will never give up, that he’d still want to talk to him about what happened even if he were on the verge of unconsciousness. So, defeated, Luigi offers him a deal.

“Eat this,” he repeats, “and we’ll talk about it.”

Fortunately, his suggestion seems to appease Mario. After watching him for a few seconds, his brother eventually lowers his hand and allows Luigi to give him the 1-UP Super. Luigi knows how much his sibling dislikes the taste of mushrooms, but by now Mario has learned to tolerate it: he closes his eyes and swallows them almost all at once, and always lets out a little whimper of protest that warms Luigi's heart. Mario may be his older brother, he may be the bravest and most capable person he knows, he may have always protected him since they were little, but in some ways he still reminds him of a child.

And yet Luigi admires his sibling for being able to eat something he doesn't like. He struggles every time.

Within seconds, Mario's wound begins to heal. Luigi watches, dumbfounded, as the blood recedes and the skin practically regenerates, eliciting a small grunt from Mario that causes Luigi to squeeze his hand and stroke his hair in an attempt to comfort him. His brother purses his lips as he squeezes back, and Luigi smiles as he witnesses Mario trying to contain the pain and not show himself vulnerable despite the fact that, here and now, it's just the two of them.

To Mario's relief, the shroom soon completes its magic. With his forehead completely healed, Mario opens his eyes, once again glowing with his distinctive energy and vitality, and rests them on his twin. Luigi, however, is so relieved to finally see his older brother safe and sound that, as soon as he begins to sit up, Luigi throws his arms around Mario’s neck.

He doesn't even realize that he’s started to cry until he tries to speak and the lump in his throat prevents him from doing so.

Mario's laughter is like a balm that warms his heart. His brother laughs fondly and puts an arm around Luigi while he raises his other hand to pat him affectionately on his head. Still hugging him, Luigi smiles, and a strangled chuckle escapes his system as he swallows to try to quiet his crying.

“It's good to see you too, little brother,” Mario whispers.

He presses his cheek against Luigi's and Luigi closes his eyes, his heart fluttering in his chest. There's no telling where his smile ends and Mario's begins. He could stay like this forever, clinging to his sibling and feeling his twin's arms around him, providing him with a warmth more intense and comforting than that of the most blazing fire as they protect each other from any evil coming from the outside world.

Luigi needs nothing else to live.

After a few seconds, Luigi notices that his brother tries to pull apart from him to look him in the eye, but the younger plumber finds himself unable to stand up straight. His whole body feels strangely limp, as if it didn’t belong to him, and it’s impossible for him to do something as simple as opening his eyes.

Luigi then realizes that the fatigue caused by the force with which his electric magic has emerged from his body is causing the upper part of his body to slip to Joke’s End’s cold, icy floor, as both him and Mario are still on his knees, and he finds himself unable to break his fall. Mario's voice, full of alarm at his little brother’s condition, reaches Luigi’s ears muffled, and he just can’t make out his twin’s words. He does feel how Mario holds him tightly with one arm, trying to ground him, and Luigi finds himself clinging to him with what little strength he has left in his body. He rests his head on his twin's shoulder while he closes his eyelids, just for an instant, to rest for five minutes, nothing more.

For this reason he’s unable to resist when he notices that Mario brings something to his lips. Without hesitating, Luigi opens his mouth and allows his brother to give him what the green clad plumber immediately distinguishes as a 1-UP Super. He’s barely swallowed it when he begins to feel its effects: a small spark of energy springs up in his heart and starts to spread through his body in slow but intense waves, finally giving him back the vitality that the magnitude of his power had taken from him. Soon he’s aware of how Mario's arms support him while, in Italian, his brother whispers soft words of encouragement, waiting for the shroom to take effect with the little patience that Luigi knows his sibling has, but which he always displays when it comes to him.

Luigi lets out a small moan as he regains control of his body, holding on to Mario's shoulders to slowly sit up. He immediately hears his twin greet him as if he had just woken up, which, in fact, is not far from the truth.

“Hey,” Mario says softly, his tone full of gentleness. “Can you hear me, Lu? How are you feeling?”

Luigi notices Mario's fingers cupping his cheek and can practically feel the concern that tinges his voice. Still clinging to his twin's shoulders, Luigi hastens to smile, looking at him, and nods, wishing he could wipe all traces of worry from Mario's blue eyes in one fell swoop.

“I feel wonderful,” he declares.

His tone must be more convincing than he thought, because, in front of him, Mario's face begins to calm down: his frown relaxes, his eyes recover their usual spark, and a smile blooms on his lips that mirrors Luigi's, as if his brother were an earthly representation of the sun and he, the moon that feeds on his glow.

“Thank goodness,” Mario replies, giving him a gentle pat on the back.

Both his voice and his face are brimming with relief. Luigi instinctively closes his eyes the instant he notices how his twin begins to tilt his head towards him. Warmness bursts in his chest as his forehead meets his brother's, and the smile that spreads across his face at the contact is wide, serene and placid. Despite the ice that surrounds them, despite the coldness that reigns in the place where they are, far from any trace of civilization, Luigi could almost swear that never before, in all his life, has he felt more wrapped up in the warmth provided by the mere presence of his older brother.

When, seconds later, the twins separate, they give each other wide and calm smiles, both filled with joy at being together again. Mario's expression, though, gradually turns into one full of curiosity.

“So...” he says before patting Luigi's back again. “It was a thunderstorm, right?”

Luigi can't help but cringe a little. How is he going to tell Mario about something he doesn't even know how it happened? In fact... should he? What if his brother starts to see him in a different light? What if...?

What if Mario stops loving him?

“W-well...”

He doesn't realize that he's started to fiddle with his hands, as he usually does whenever he's nervous, until he feels Mario's palm, warm and pleasant, resting on his fingers before gently squeezing them. Raising his head, Luigi meets the equally sweet and affectionate gaze of his brother, radiant with all the love he feels for him.

The sight is more than enough to soothe Luigi’s racing thoughts.

“Lulu,” Mario says, still smiling, “you don’t have to be ashamed. What you did was amazing!” he exclaims, chuckling smoothly as his eyes sparkle with excitement. “You unleashed a thunderstorm all by yourself, little brother. Do you realize how incredibly powerful you are?”

Luigi stares at him in silence for a few seconds, trying to process the reality of his twin's words.

Or, he corrects himself, trying to process the fact that Mario doesn't seem at all horrified by what his younger sibling just did.

“In fact,” Mario continues before Luigi manages to come up with a response, “you're so powerful, Luigi, that not only did you get me to wake up even though I had just been hit in my head, but you made the monsters run away. Or at least,” he adds as he looks to and fro, “I don't see them anywhere.”

Looking at Luigi again, Mario winks at him as he holds both of his brother's hands in his, Luigi's fingers resting on his left palm while his right continues to tap him lightly. Luigi blinks slowly and closes his mouth at last, for he wasn't even aware of having it wide open. A shy smile begins to bloom on his lips.

“They fled like cowards in the face of the bravery and courage of my mighty little brother,” Mario then says, imprinting his voice with a proud tone that causes Luigi's smile to widen and his cheeks to start burning. “Do you hear me, monsters?” Mario suddenly shouts, turning again to one side and the other, and grabs Luigi's wrist with his right hand to raise his younger sibling’s arm in the air. “Don't even think of coming closer if you don't want to suffer the wrath of the Green Thunder!”

Luigi can't contain the laughter that escapes from the depths of his soul at the nickname his brother has just bestowed upon him, as well as his enthusiasm when boasting about him and the vigor with which he shakes Luigi’s arm. Luigi doubts that any monster is going to be scared by that, but, maybe, just maybe, what he just did is not... bad. Maybe his power has gotten out of his control, but, after all, he hasn't caused any harm.

And, besides, he’s achieved his purpose: to keep those monsters away from his big brother and prevent them from ever having a chance to harm him again.

When his laughter starts to fade, he notices that Mario was laughing too. Now he looks at Luigi with eyes sparkling with affection, and the younger plumber returns a radiant smile that he hopes will convey the same feeling to his brother. Seizing the fact that he’s still holding him by one hand, Mario begins to pull him up and they both stand up at the same time. Mario, however, doesn’t let go.

“Thank you for protecting me, Lu,” he says heartily, giving his fingers a little squeeze.

Luigi can't help blushing and massages the back of his neck with his other hand.

“You always protect me,” he replies, shrugging, “and besides, I don't even know what I did...”

“What do you mean?” Mario sounds both intrigued and confused.

“W-well...” Luigi takes a few seconds to try to find the right words. “I don't know what happened, Mario,” he declares, looking him in the eyes. “I just know that I saw you lying there, and you were bleeding, and...” He sighs, looking away again. “My Thunderhand took control. I didn't even know it was capable of creating a thunderstorm,” he admits, dejected.

Luigi drops his shoulders and massages his arm with his free hand. Mario still holds his other hand, but Luigi senses that it's only a matter of time before his brother lets go and walks away. Surely he doesn't admire him so much anymore. Surely he doesn't see him in the same way anymore. Surely...

“Then,” Mario's voice interrupts the torrent of his thoughts, and a new squeeze on his fingers causes Luigi to turn to him once more. Mario's warm smile disarms him completely. “Maybe we can find a way together that you can do this while maintaining control.”

At first, Luigi isn't sure he fully understands what his twin is referring to. It takes a while for his brain to register what his twin means: that Luigi should learn how to be in control in case he needs, or wants to, create another thunderstorm in the future.

It hadn't occurred to him that there might be a way.

“You’ll see how they will call you Green Thunder then,” Mario adds, amused, and gives him a gentle punch on the shoulder.

Luigi chuckles at his joke, and an idea suddenly comes to his mind.

“Do you think you could do something like that with your Firebrand too?” he asks, curious.

This time it's Mario who stares at him dumbfounded.

“Well... I hadn’t thought about it,” he admits, putting his hand to his chin and tapping his finger pensively.

“Then that’s one more thing we have to research,” Luigi suggests, suddenly filled with a determination that only Mario could have infected him with. “What do you think, big bro?”

“Fair enough, little bro” nods his sibling, giving him another wink.

With no need for words, the two break contact in unison, only to raise their arms and high five. Luigi laughs, feeling not only relieved that Mario still loves him the same way, but pleased that they’re going to further investigate both his electrical power and his twin's igneous magic. He hopes to come up with an appropriate nickname for Mario and his Firebrand in the process.

“I guess we'll have to get out of here first,” Mario adds jokingly. “Let’s-a go!”

“Okie-dokie!”

And, together again, they set off.

[kiss-me-cill-me]

Stars Forever

Pairing: Robert Capa x Reader

Word Count: 4.2k

Summary: The night before launch, the crew of the Icarus II stay in a nearby hotel. The sleeping arrangements are less than ideal for you and the ship's cranky physicist.

Warnings: Smut, extremely trope-heavy and contrived shenanigans, kinda enemies-to-lovers, teasing, mentions of birth control (IUDs)

A/N: The title of this fic was inspired by Starless Heaven by Guster. That song has nothing to do with the fic, but it's really pretty so I wanted to share it lol. For the purposes of the "plot" here, reader is taking Trey's place on the ship (sorry Trey). Only one bed is my favorite trope and I just want to write it for every character ever <3

***Please read the warnings before continuing. Minors DNI***

Capa was a few paces ahead of you, walking with his hands stuffed in his pockets. The soft yellow lights of the hotel corridor surrounded you on all sides as you glanced at the room numbers.

“Quit following me,” Capa barked, throwing a quick glance over his shoulder.

You rolled your eyes, once he had turned back around and couldn't see you. This was so typical. 

“I'm not following you. I'm looking for my room.”

You checked another room number. That wasn't it. Capa continued down the hallway, not pausing as he spoke over his shoulder again.

“Aren't you with Cassie or Corazon? Go bother one of them,” he spat.

“First of all, I'm not bothering anyone. And second of all, no. Cassie and Cora are together. I'm rooming with someone else.”

At least, you assumed you were. All you had was your assigned room number. With eight crew members and apparently very heavily limited space in the hotel you were staying at for the night, you had been informed that everyone would need to double up. You, Cassie, and Cora had quickly compared room numbers to determine that you were the odd one out, but you had no idea who your own roommate would be. Obviously one of the guys, which was bound to be at least a little awkward. 

But, you would be fine. This was only going to be for one night. Tomorrow, the lot of you would be driven to mission control and then launched into space, bound for the Icarus II module currently hovering in the moon’s orbit, and then for the center of the solar system. This hotel was simply the closest accommodation for tonight, even if it was slightly too cramped for all eight of you.

“Well, quit walking so close to me at least.”

Capa’s voice brought you back to reality, and you realized that you had been zoning out and not looking at the last several room numbers. You checked the next one. Still not yours.

You slowed down, but only a little bit, putting some distance between you and Capa. You had no particular desire to be close to him. Though you certainly didn't hate him as much as he seemed to hate you. 

His dislike was obvious, but it confused you. You hadn't done anything that should have prompted him to feel so negatively toward you, as far as you were aware. But from the moment you and Capa had met at your first briefing, six months ago, you could tell he was incredibly tense whenever you were in the room.

Finally, your eyes landed on the room number assigned to you. You stopped in your tracks, then looked up, confused. Capa was standing in front of the same room.

“Why don't you get lost?” he asked, still testy.

“This is my room,” you said, motioning to the door.

Capa’s eyes darted to the room number and then back to you. His brows creased as he scowled openly.

“No. There's no way,” he said. “This is my room.”

“Well, it's my room, too,” you insisted.

You felt your cheeks heat up. Usually, Capa’s opinion of you didn't bother you much. He was just a coworker. Both of you had proven that you could put personal feelings aside for the sake of the mission, and whatever he thought about you in his free time didn't much matter. But now, faced with the challenge of sharing a hotel room, you suddenly wished that you had spent a bit more time working on your relationship.

“This has to be some kind of mix-up. Why aren't you with one of the girls?” Capa muttered.

“Maybe because there's three girls and five guys?” you replied, sarcastically. “Jeez, Capa - I thought you were good at math.”

Capa rushed to turn his face away, but you still caught a glimpse of the bright blush that rose on his cheeks. You - almost - felt bad. Usually, you tried not to antagonize him, but sometimes you couldn't help it.

“I know there's an uneven split,” he hissed, slightly wounded. “But why would they put you with me?”

You rolled your eyes again, not caring whether he saw you. Capa always thought of himself as the main character. God forbid he be inconvenienced.

“Look, it's late, and I'd like to go to bed,” you sighed. “I'll stay on my side of the room, you stay on yours, and we won't talk to each other. Deal?”

“Fine,” Capa muttered.

It was just for one night. Already feeling your temper wear thin, you slid your key card into the lock. You didn't hesitate to barge in ahead of Capa, not bothering to hold the door open behind you. He scrambled to follow, muttering something to himself.

You stopped short. Capa nearly crashed into you as you saw it first. There was only one bed.

Capa let out a deep breath of frustration. You watched from out of the corner of your eye as he swiftly turned on his heels and walked out of the room.

“Nope,” he said simply, letting the door slam behind him.

As it turned out, there had been a mix-up. But unfortunately for you and Capa, it was not one that could easily be resolved. Talking to the front desk did nothing, as the clerk explained they were booked up completely.

“There are a lot of people staying overnight so they can watch the big launch tomorrow,” she explained cheerily. “The second Icarus ship. Very exciting stuff!”

Capa looked ready to rip her head off, but somehow restrained himself. You snickered as you followed behind him, this time purposefully trailing as Capa made his way to Captain Kaneda’s room. He was almost cute when he was angry.

Talking to Kaneda didn't get you anywhere either.

“Capa, it's late,” the captain sighed. “You'll both just need to put up with it for one night.”

“But we don't even have separate beds!” Capa grumbled.

“Yes, well… if you two really dislike each other so much, that shouldn't be an issue.”

Capa opened his mouth to speak, but then the scandalous suggestion hidden in the captain’s words dawned on him, and he snapped it shut again. You were tempted to interject and say that you didn't hate Capa - his feelings were all one-sided. But then you thought better of it. You had to admit Capa’s hissy fit was amusing, but if you actually had to share a bed with him, it was better to not provoke him too much.

Capa stormed out of the captain’s room, and you followed. Back in the hallway, you ran into Mace.

“Mace,” Capa called, hurrying to catch up with him. “Hey, Mace - switch rooms with me.”

“Why would I switch rooms with you?” Mace snapped.

Capa and Mace didn't get along either. At all. He must have been truly desperate to ask Mace for help.

“Because I'm with her,” Capa replied, jabbing a finger back at you. “And we only have one bed.”

Mace stopped mid-stride, and turned around to look at you. He was clearly amused. Capa’s scowl deepened, and you shrugged. Mace crossed his arms as he spoke.

“No way in hell am I sharing a bed with her, you, or Searle,” he laughed. “You got the shit room? Tough luck, asshole.”

Mace walked away, leaving Capa to rake an exasperated hand through his hair. He turned to face you, looking you directly in the eye for the first time since you had both left your miserably shared room.

“Okay, one of us needs to take the floor,” he informed you.

You had already started to walk away, and Capa hurried to keep pace beside you.

“Well it's not gonna be me,” you said. “If you can't grow up enough to sleep in the same bed as someone else for one night, you get to take the floor.”

Capa’s cheeks blushed pink again.

“You actually want us to sleep together?” Capa blurted.

“Ugh, don't say it like that!” 

You felt your own cheeks start to heat up as Capa’s blush deepened. Each of you pretended not to notice how flustered the other was getting.

You reached the door of your room and slipped the key card inside. This time, you held the door open as Capa followed after you.

“I'm just saying, why sleep on a hard floor the night before one of the biggest days of our lives?” you sighed. “We can both be adults about this.”

Capa silently considered your words for a minute, stubbornly refusing to meet your gaze.

“Well, just think about it,” you said, reaching for your small backpack. “I'm gonna get changed.”

Capa choked, letting a small, strangled sound escape his throat as you pulled your pajamas out of the bag. When you looked up at him, his eyes had blown wide.

“You're getting undressed?” he sputtered. “In here?”

“In the bathroom, Capa. Jeez!”

You stepped into the little bathroom, closing the door behind you before he had a chance to reply. Pinching the bridge of your nose, you let yourself sink back against the door. This was going to be a long night if Capa kept this up. 

You wished he would calm down. It had been funny to watch him scramble around trying to get out of sleeping with you - or, next to you, you corrected yourself. But now, your annoyance had started to settle in again. 

With a huff, you straightened up. It was only one night. You could handle this, and you knew Capa could too, once he had gotten over his initial shock. You set about changing into your pajamas and brushing your teeth.

When you came out, Capa seemed calmer. He was sitting slouched in the small chair next to the desk, which neither of you would have any occasion to use during such a short stay. It was only one night. The words were a mantra in your head.

“Okay,” Capa relented. “I can agree that it's important we both get a good night's rest. Especially with everything happening tomorrow.”

Privately, you thought to yourself that you were the one who needed sleep more than Capa. Your job as navigator was much more imperative than… whatever he would be doing. Capa was little more than a piece of glorified cargo; just coming along for the ride so that he could deploy the bomb. Which was important, of course - but he would have several months worth of time to catch up on sleep before he had to make himself useful, and-

You stopped yourself. That kind of thinking wasn't helpful. It was just nerves making you snap; you always felt tense the night before a mission. And this would be the longest one you had ever been on. Capa was probably feeling the same way, especially considering this was his first. You thought back to your first flight as a rookie, and felt yourself soften a little.

“So we're both going to be mature about this?” you asked.

“Yes,” Capa agreed, sighing as if it pained him.

“Good. Then go get ready for bed.”

You regretted the words as soon as you'd said them. They felt entirely too domestic. Too familiar. A lover telling her husband to come to bed with her.

Capa stood up, crossing paths awkwardly with you on his way to the bathroom. Once the door had shut behind him, you let out the breath you had been holding. Maybe this was going to be a long night.

While Capa got ready for bed, you crawled awkwardly under the covers. Picking a side so that neither of you would be able to argue about that, you settled in and pulled the blankets over your lap.

Capa stepped out, rustled in his bag for a minute, and then came to stand by his side of the bed.

“So, do I just…”

“Here,” you offered. “We can put a few pillows between us.”

The hotel bed had entirely too many of them anyways. You took a couple and placed them between the spaces that you and Capa would occupy, making a little wall.

Capa climbed into bed with you, a little hesitantly. He flicked off the lamp on his bedside table, and you did the same, plunging the room into inky black. 

In the dark, things felt suddenly more… intimate. Your eyes took a long minute to adjust, but when they did, you saw Capa. Still sitting propped up in bed next to you, just like you were as you stared back at him.

“This isn't so bad, right?” 

Your voice was barely a whisper. Capa’s response came at a similar volume. 

“I guess not,” he agreed.

“Let's try and get some rest.”

You sank down, snuggling into the mattress and the pillows at your side. Pressing into them almost felt like you were cuddling against Capa’s body; ironically, the makeshift barrier only made the bed feel more crowded.

“Stop wiggling,” Capa complained.

You bit your tongue. You wanted to snap at him, but you reminded yourself again that you were probably just both on edge. Something in Capa’s deep voice sounded almost miserable.

“Sorry,” you said instead. “Just trying to get comfortable.”

The only sound in the room was Capa’s breath. For some reason, it seemed like he was breathing a bit harder than usual.

“You okay?” you asked.

“Fine,” Capa replied, the word curt and short.

You sighed.

“Capa, why do you hate me so much?”

An uncomfortable silence hung between you. For a few seconds, you thought that he wasn't going to answer, and tried to think of how you could backpedal out of your question as you stared up at the ceiling.

“I don't hate you,” Capa said finally. “I just… you're distracting.”

“Distracting?” you echoed.

As far as you could remember, you had never done anything particularly distracting. At least not to any of your fellow crew members. The months you had spent together preparing for this mission were serious, and didn't leave much time for distractions of any kind.

“Don't worry about it,” Capa insisted, which only confused you more.

“What do you mean? Don't worry about being distracting, or don't worry about you calling me that?”

“Don't worry about any of it!” Capa groaned, suddenly exasperated.

“What's up with you?”

You propped yourself up on one elbow, leaning over the stack of pillows a bit to get a better look at him. Capa flinched, trying to hunch over himself. But it was too late. You had seen the obvious tent in the blankets.

“Oh. My. Gosh!” you squealed. “That's why you didn't want to sleep with me. You don't hate me at all. You like me.”

“Shut up!” Capa snapped, still trying to cover himself with his hands.

You smiled. This was too good. All those months you'd spent wondering what his deal was, and now it was so obvious. Capa had a crush on you. And a pretty big one, by the looks of it.

“It's nothing to be ashamed of, Capa,” you laughed. “You can admit that you like me.”

“I don't,” Capa insisted.

“I have a hard time believing that,” you murmured, eyes trailing down to his crotch.

“Look, don't tell anyone,” Capa begged.

“Why would I tell anyone?” 

You peeled the blankets back, taking the wall of pillows with them. Capa, in his shock, watched as the sheets fell away but did nothing to try and stop you. His hands were still clamped down over his erection, and you lifted them up to guide the blanket away.

“If I told someone,” you continued, “then I'd have to tell them about this…”

You leaned down, capturing his lips in a kiss. You felt Capa tense beneath you, sitting up slightly before he melted back into the pillows. You followed him, moving to straddle his waist and put your hands on his shoulders, holding him there.

“W-what are you doing?” Capa stammered.

You’d pulled back to look at him, and even in the darkness you could tell just how wide his eyes had blown.

“I dunno - what do you want me to do?” you teased.

Your fingers trailed up and down his chest, his breath hitching once as you reached the base of his neck.

“Well, you could get off of me, for starters,” he answered, voice wavering.

His deep voice, usually so smooth and clear, had taken on a desperate, slightly strained quality. You moved your fingertips over the hem of his shirt collar, teasing just beneath the fabric.

“Come on, Capa. Be honest,” you prodded. “What do you really want?”

“Fuck,” Capa whined.

“Fuck? We can fuck,” you agreed, voice lowering.

“Th-that’s not what I meant and you know it - Shit!”

Capa interrupted himself as you slid lower, centering your hips over his clothed erection. You rubbed against him, and he clenched his jaw, throwing his head back into the pillows.

“Fuck! How come you like me all of a sudden?” Capa hissed, slightly out of breath.

“Who said I ever didn’t like you?” you questioned, sliding your hands under his shirt.

Capa’s back arched against the mattress as your hands moved over his bare chest. You swore you heard him let out a little moan.

“You’re just doing this to torture me,” he accused.

“And what if I am?” You leaned in to whisper against his ear. “It seems like you kinda like it.”

Your gentle touches turned harsh; raking your nails down Capa’s chest. As he moaned again, you leaned in to capture it with a kiss. His lips slotted into yours, and Capa bit down, desperate. You hummed with your lower lip trapped between his teeth, still dragging your hips against him. Capa mumbled something, and you pulled away to hear him.

“Hm?”

“Please don’t make me come in my pants,” he groaned.

You lifted off of him a little, putting a stop to the friction between you. Capa groaned again, this time at the loss.

“Oh, okay,” you said mischievously. “Let's take you out of them, then.”

You moved to take off his shorts, pushing them down just enough to free his leaking cock. Capa had a pretty one, you had to admit. Even in the dark, you could see how it shined with small, milky beads of his arousal. As it sprang out from the confines of his boxers, Capa whined desperately.

“This too,” you said, tugging at the hem of his shirt.

Capa sat up to tear himself out of his t-shirt, and then started to pull off yours. Once you were both out of your shirts, your lips crashed together again, and Capa’s arms wrapped around your waist, pressing into your back to pull you closer.

“Hang on,” you breathed, pulling away to wrestle yourself out of your own shorts.

Tossing them to the side, you went back to straddling Capa, and pushed him back down to lie flat on the mattress. Your bodies were tantalizingly close together, hovering just on the edge of you sinking down onto his cock. Capa’s hands came up to rest on your sides - clearly wanting to touch your breasts but not daring to. You guided his left hand to cup one.

“Fuck,” Capa sighed again, digging his fingers into you.

“Be patient,” you scolded, giggling a little at the way Capa’s brow creased.

“Haven’t you played with me enough?” he moaned.

“I don’t think so, actually.”

You lowered yourself down just a bit, enough to let his tip brush through your folds. You were pretty wet already, but not quite enough to take him in yet. Pressing down more, you trapped his cock between yourself and his stomach, sliding up and down the underside of his length.

“Ah!” Capa gasped.

His fingers tightened on your breast, and you basked in the feel of his hands on you. The way your clit was rubbing against him with every stroke of your hips wasn’t so bad either, and you thought fleetingly that you might actually be able to get both of you off just like this. You considered it, but where was the fun in that?

You sat up, reaching down to position him so that it would only take one more stroke to enter you. You felt how wet you had gotten his shaft, just by rubbing against it, and laughed softly to yourself. Maybe you did like Capa a little more than you’d thought. As you swirled your hips, getting the head of his cock wet enough to slide into you, Capa lost what little remaining resolve he had.

“Fuck - please,” Capa whined.

“Please what?”

“You know what you’re doing, you jerk.”

“And?”

Capa bucked his hips beneath you, but you inched up and away from him, keeping his prize just out of reach.

“Tell me what you want,” you taunted. “You can use your words, right? Or am I ‘distracting’ you again?”

“Yes - it’s very fucking distracting to feel you dripping down my cock,” Capa moaned.

If he was trying to get to you, he would have to do better than that.

“Come on, just tell me. What do you want?”

“You! Fuck,” Capa grunted. “God, I want to be inside you.”

“There, was that so hard?” you laughed.

“Fuck you, you’re driving me crazy.”

He was speaking through clenched teeth, jaw straining once again as his eyes squeezed shut. The sight was enough to make you pulse, clenching around nothing. You had held back for long enough, you decided.

In one swift motion, you sank down onto his cock. The stretch was enough to make you hum, pleasure filling your chest as your walls wrapped around him. Capa was slightly less subtle, moaning loudly at the feel of you.

His desperate, needy sounds were like music to your ears. Slowly, you rocked your hips back and forth, keeping yourself pressed flush against him. Capa let out a breath.

“Don’t stop,” he begged you.

You didn’t plan on it. You kept your pace steady, stopping the rhythm every once in a while to swirl your hips.

As much as you were enjoying the sight of Capa falling apart beneath you, you needed more to help yourself over the edge. You brought your fingers down to your clit, letting the motion of your hips guide the pressure.

“Oh, I’m close,” you sighed.

Your eyes fluttered shut, and you tossed your head back. Capa’s hands were planted on your hips now, greedily pulling you down as far onto his cock as you would go. His voice was a mess as he answered.

“Me too - fuck - you're gonna need to get off of me.”

“Not yet,” you moaned, grinding your hips down again.

“What do you mean ‘not yet?’” Capa grunted, sounding miserable.

“So close,” you replied, your own voice getting shaky.

And then, you felt the coil in your stomach snap. You cried out, pressing down onto him harder than ever as your nails raked down his chest. While you rode out your high, Capa scrambled to grab at your hips and lift you all the way off of him.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck - get off!” he gasped.

As your orgasm faded, you looked down to see Capa, desperate and flushed-red cock in his hand, spurting ropes of cum onto his own stomach. He’d managed to pull you off just in time, but barely. A smirk crossed your lips as you watched him.

You weren’t sure what he was so worried about. As precaution, all female members of the Icarus crew had been required to have IUDs placed months ago. They would last the duration of the journey, and ensure that no mishaps occurred. Although, now you considered that maybe Capa and the other men hadn’t been told about that, to prevent… well, to prevent them from getting any ideas about doing what Capa and you had just done.

You crawled off of him, grabbing a box of tissues from one of the nightstands.

“Here - clean yourself off,” you told him. “I like to cuddle after.”

Capa took the tissues and wiped up his cum, tossing everything into the trashcan next to the bed. You flopped down on top of him, forcing his arms to wrap around you in surprise before they settled into the curves of your body.

Bringing his lips into a slow kiss, you felt the hum of Capa’s moan against you.

“You’re gonna kill me if this is what the next three years together are going to be like,” Capa complained.

“That’s a funny way of saying ‘thank you,’” you teased, resting your head against his chest. “And besides,” you continued, poking him in the ribs, “what makes you think that this is what the next three years are gonna be like?”

You could practically feel Capa blush, his arms tightening and the skin on his chest getting just a bit hotter.

“I mean…”

“I’m just kidding,” you laughed. “Of course I’m gonna keep torturing you like this. Since you like it so much,” you added.

“Yeah, well… maybe I’ll torture you instead next time,” Capa threatened, tugging you harder against him.

“You can try…” Bringing your lips back up to his face, you pressed a kiss to his cheek. “It’s kinda cute that you have the confidence.”

You giggled as Capa held the sides of your face, stopping you from pulling away as he kissed your lips. Both of you sank down, Capa turning to hover over you this time as he kissed you again. 

You smiled against his lips. You could certainly think of worse ways to spend the next few years.

Taglist: @cillianslvt, @cillmequick, @dynamitehacke, @franzine-xii, @hanawrites404, @hypotheticallyspeakingwitch, @littlewinter1917, @mothhball, @nnattu, @red-riding-wood, @sea-star-of-the-ocean, @slut4thebroken (also going rogue and tagging @vintagepvssy because of our only one bed trope conversation lol)

[houxe]

Regarding my SBI/DSMP Fics

TW: Abuse, Trauma, and Mentions of Suicide.

With all that has happened, I did want to come out here and make my stance clear. I will always stand with Shelby (Shubble) and all of the victims who are speaking out against Will Gold (Wilbur Soot). If you still support that bastard, unfollow me and leave my blog and whatever small community I made.

I've already stated this is my Discord channel, but I want to put it here too.

For me, c!Wilbur is so far removed from cc!Wilbur that I don't connect the two. The characters are vessels for my own characterizations and stories. It's a bit like writing Supernatural*, Twilight, or Hazbin Hotel fanfics. I don't support the guy, monetarily or otherwise, he does not interact with fanfics, I have plans to be very vocal that I'm on Shelby's side no matter what/make it clear that what Will did is wrong, and I don't use his real life events as plots in my stories. At least, I certainly don't try to. It's why I typically change traits about the characters. (I.e. Tommy is shorter, Phil is taller, Techno is bulky, and Wilbur always has golden/hazel eyes.)

I'm aware that it's a tad different because it's rp and not something like a full on book or an actor in a movie, but DSMP has also been over for over two years and the characterizations I make for SBI are not at all based on the CCs. Real life Techno isn't a literal terrorist, Phil ain't a father married to a goddess, Tommy is not a traumatized child soldier, and Wilbur isn't suicidal and blowing up countries.

I think I'll likely focus more on Techno, Tommy, and Phil for a while, but I'm not gonna let one dude ruin a fandom and things I've made for myself. Nothing I write is ever made for Wilbur, as I've seen people saying. Additionally, Wilbur was not the only writer. Technoblade, Philza, TommyInnit, and so many others made that story what it was. Not him.

However, if any CCs come forward saying they don't want their old characters interacting with his, I will respect that.

Though I do think there is a tendency to take real life events (i.e. Techno's cancer, LJ's music, Tommy's real life parents, etc.) and put them into fiction about DSMP. I, however, don't try to do that and have stated before that I don't feel comfortable doing so. The truth is that we have not gotten any genuine SBI content outside of DSMP for years. The dynamic in real life is very different from what was presented in the DSMP. Did personalities still bleed over? Yes, I'm not going to deny that, but I'm not going to act like they're exactly the same between character and person either. We've had that conversation like in 2021, it's why we have C! and CC!.

The rather sad truth is, SBI is what got me really into writing and it's a comfort for me that nothing can compare to. Obviously, I don't think it's appropriate to be writing certain types of stories right now or to be involving characters made by CCs outside of the DSMP. I think it's up to everyone else to decide on what they want to do, however, rushing it also isn't the way to go either. Give yourself time to heal and think it over first instead of throwing away something that gives you comfort and has not been associated with by the creators for over two years.

Anyways, fuck Will Gold. Fuck the fact that he hurt so many people, and fuck that he lied and manipulated his way around the damn internet. ESPECIALLY fuck the fact that he tried to diminish what he did and not take proper accountability.

Go and support Shelby so so much, she and everyone who spoke out really deserve it. I'm glad silence on these types of issues is not being normalized.

Here is a list of (American) resources for DV help:

TNLR

RAINN

WOAR

Love is respect

The Trevor project

Futures without violence

National domestic violence hotline

Resource on what DV and abuse looks like

*Changed it from Harry Potter to Supernatural because Harry Potter is a significantly worse and more problematic franchise, even just within the content of the books. It'd be better left in the dust. I've talked about it before, but it was the first thing that came to my mind at the time and was a poor comparison on my part, I'm truly sorry for that.

[reiderwriter]

Hi, can I request a smut fic about Spencer being a sub and desperately begging the reader to dominate him and how it turns out please ?

I love your writing 🥹

A/N: I feel like I'm not good at writing Sub! Spencer but I certainly did give it a go 😅 let me know what you think in the comments or the ask box!

W/C: 1.7k

Warnings: sub!Spencer, Dom!Reader, mommy kink, slight bondage, orgasm control, use of sex toys (M and F), I don't think there's anything else???

You’d noticed the look on his face earlier in the day, but you hadn’t quite worked up the courage to ask him what it meant. Despite being a BAU Profiler, the man couldn’t stop himself from displaying his desire clearly on his face. There was something Dr Spencer Reid wanted, badly, and even without a fancy FBI job you knew that.

You let him come to you first, though, a little bit intrigued about how long it would take him to break. He’d been silent as he stared at you over dinner, making small talk, sure, but not sharing his actual thoughts. The car ride home had been similarly devoid of his usual “Reid”isms, but you could feel his eyes on you from his place in the passenger seat, raking over you shyly. When you got into the apartment, you thought he was finally going to break.

“Y/N…?”

“Yeah, Spence? What is it?” you smiled at him, ready to hear what had been on his mind the entire time.

“Actually, no…no it’s nothing.” He turned to move towards the bathroom, but you cut him off before he reached it.

“It’s not nothing, you’ve been acting weird all night, is there something wrong?”

He hesitated for a second, before pulling your hand into his. Reaching down, he planted a small chaste kiss on your lips, then tried to pull away quickly, but you laced your hands through his hair and pulled him back down to you, not letting him go until you were satisfied.

“Can we… Can we try something new?” he asked, and your heart rate increased as he trailed his hands hesitantly down to your hips.

“What were you thinking, Spencer?” your voice was lower now than it had been a few moments ago, barely a whisper, but the lacking space between the two of you more than made up for it.

“Can you…I don’t really know how I’m supposed to say it,” he frowned, looking down at you with that puppy dog expression that you’d fallen for.

“Tell me with your words Spencer, you can do it.”

“Can you… take charge tonight?” The blush on his face was pronounced, his entire body aflame with the question he’d just asked. You felt yourself growing excited at the prospect, hoping that he was absolutely insinuating what you thought he was.

“What do you mean by that, baby? You want me to take charge how?” You smiled through the questions, trying to set him at ease so he wouldn’t clam up again. You ran a distracting hand through the hair at the base of his neck and waited for him to respond.

“Please can you….I want you to-”

“No wants, Spencer. What do you need?” you asked, smiling innocently up at him.

“Please, I need you to dominate me.” Hearing the words that you’d suspected for the last few minutes had your heartbeat racing faster. You knew Spencer didn’t like to give up control often, but he’d been thinking about this all day, and you weren’t going to say no to him now that he’d asked you so nicely.

Moving your hand down from his hair to his tie, you yanked him down sharply so you were eye to eye, and he let out a shuddery breath.

“We’re going to use the traffic light system, okay baby? Red means you want to stop, orange, you need a break or you’re reaching your limit, green, you’re okay. Do you understand?” He nodded in response so you pulled him a little closer, not letting his lips meet you in the way that they wanted to.

“I need to hear your voice, baby, do you understand?”

“Y-yes, Y/N.”

“Yes, mommy,” you insisted, and you watched as his adams apple bobbed with his swallow.

“Yes, mommy.”

“Good boy,” you smiled at him, before pulling him roughly into the bedroom by his tie. Looking down, you saw that he was already rock hard in his pants, his hand sneaking down between the two of you to palm himself, desperate for friction of any kind.

"What color, baby?"

"Green." You nodded and turned your gaze back down to his pants.

“Stop that right now. Did I give you permission to touch yourself, Spencer?” He whipped his hand away immediately, holding them both up like he was surrendering himself.

“No, mommy. I’m sorry.” You pushed him to the bed as he responded, and he let out a small gasp as he landed.

“Here’s how it’s going to go, baby. You’re going to sit there and watch mommy get herself off, and you’re not going to help or touch me or touch yourself. Just watching. And if you’re a good boy, then I’ll give you a special reward. Okay?”

“Yes, mommy.” He moaned out shakily. You pull down his pants, taking care to avoid making direct contact with his cock, letting it free itself from it’s prison without your interference or his, already wet with his precum.

“My-my, you’ve been thinking about this all night, right? My pervereted little baby.” You giggled at him, stroking your hands up and down his legs without getting close enough to give him pleasure. You pushed away for him and moved towards the top drawer of the nightstand on your side of the bed. Right where you left it sat a small bullet vibrator, shiny and pink and fully charged.

Walking to the reading chair opposite the bed, you spread your legs, watching his cock twitch as he took in the sight of your panty-clad cunt. Your skirt was hiked up around your waist as you pressed a button and let the vibrator buzz to life. You wanted to give him a show, and boy did you. You heard each and every one of his whimpers as you trailed the small little pellet down your body from your nipples to the tops of your thights all the way back up to your sopping pussy.

You let out a moan as it made contact, playing up the pleasure to torture the man in front of you. His hands were balled tightly into the sheets splayed around him, his jaw tense as he tried his best not to touch himself to your pleasure.

Pulling the top of your dress down, you let his eyes rake over the hard stiff peaks of your chest, watching as his breaths grew more and more shallow.

“Look how good mommy is making herself feel, baby. Can you see it?” you asked him, desperate to see if he would break or not.

“Mommy, please. Please let me…” he whimpered out, cock twitching again as he shifted slightly in his seat.

“Not a chance, Spencer.” You moaned then, letting your tongue fall out of your mouth a little before pulling the bullet up to your lips and sucking on the end of it slightly.

"Color?"

“G-Green. Please, please, just touch me, please,” he moaned from his seat, eyes not leaving your lips.

“You can touch yourself if you want baby, but there are consequences for not listening to your mommy, remember,” you sang at him, growing wetter and wetter at his heavy breathing.

“I’m sorry, mommy.” He said, grabbing the base of his cock and beginning to pump himself while looking at you.

You frowned as his eyes screwed shut in pleasure, finally getting some relief. Picking yourself up, you made your way to the bed and removed his hand from himself before grabbing him by the throat.

“You wanted to be punished, baby?” You asked, squeezing down gently on his neck as he tried to thrust his cock into your hip, desperate to close the distance between the two of you. He whimpered as you tightened your grip.

"Color?"

"Green," he moaned and you bloomed at the sound.

“Open your mouth,” you said, and he quickly obeyed. You spat in his mouth, and he dutifully swallowed it, hips rutting like crazy desperate for your touch.

The vibrator still in your hand, you decided that both of you could have some fun with it that day.

“Hands on the headboard, now. I don’t want to see them move at all, am I clear?” you said, voice firm. He moaned his agreement and you set the vibrator off once again. Being careful not to let any of your bare skin touch his, you bought the vibrator closer and closer to his aching cock. You’d barely ghosted over the tip when he started madly moaning, not bothering to hide his pleasure anymore, too lost in the feeling of it all.

You traced ghosting circles over his slit, and you physically saw him shudder and grow somehow harder.

“That’s it, good boy. Just relax for mommy, okay?” He doesn’t even respond to you this time, eyes screwed shut as if he were so desperate to experience that touch that he was willing to block out his every other sense.

You finally let the vibrator fall deep onto the tip of his dick, and he doesn’t last more than thirty seconds before coming with a loud moan.

“Mommy, I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I couldn’t stop it, I couldn’t…” he gasps out with every new splash of cum that coats his chest. You’re sick of the noise coming from his mouth though, so, scooping up some of his own cum in your fingers, you press two to his lips as he moans another apology, and his eyes blow wide.

“Clean me up, baby, now.” He gets to work, licking him own cum off of you as you sit between his legs on the bed, breasts on perfect display for him the tntire time. Everytime you feel him finish licking up his cum, you scoop another mouthful of it into his mouth until there’s almost no sign of it at all.

“Next time you cum without mommy’s permission, you’re not going to get to cum at all, okay baby?” You ask, and he nods, a fucked out expression on his face telling you that he’d agree to anything you could possibly say in that moment.

You were growing to like this suggestion more and more…

[bellsartblog]

Sept-ingo day 23: different universe with ingo and ingo and ingo and emmet hop the multiverse by @subway-boss-jericho

ok so, part of this post was made when my thumbs was still healing. i thought if my thumbs couldn't work, i still had my other fingers so i gonna try writing sth >:"))) but i'm like really ass though so :"))) tell me how i do :))) i wanna improve this skill of mine as well for future uses.

𖨠──··· At the train station ···──𖨠

no beta read :"))) it's a reunion fic :)))

This place was.... very familiar. It's circular in shape and crowds of people and trainers were rushing to and from the large arches surrounding this space. How Ingo know which person were trainers and which were not was beyond him. 

Chimes were going on and off every now and then with rumblings of something big going by in between each interval. all of which was behind the wall he was leaning on. Ingo stands to the side of this strange circular place, preferring to stick to the brick walls so that he won't get swept into the crowds of busy people. being in such a chaotic and strange space but he can't help but find himself at peace. 

He stood just a bit taller than he would usually and allowed himself back in Hisui. Peering through the crow, he tries to search for a girl in the similiar survey corp uniform and a white bandana on her head. Akari was the one that brought him here in the first place, but she ran toward the tall pillar in the middle to try and buy some tickets for them both.  No, not Akari. It's Dawn now.   

"I'll be back! don't go anywhere" and she was off before he could deliver his own message. but it has been a while since then so he was getting a bit anxious. Nothing had changed much in the last minutes or so and the anticipation was eating at him. maybe he should go look for her... but going off the established place would make it hard for her to find him if she was already going back- 

"Hello sir!" 

a booming voice shocked him out of his almost spiral. the source of which stood just an arm length from him. Someone that wears the same coat as his! but it was shinier and more well-kept. And his face bored resemblances of his own but.... if he was younger. Was he that old already?  

"May I help you?" 

"Most certainly! I'm Subway Boss Ingo" The man gestured to himself then to his side where another man who looks like his matching copy stood. "And this is my brother, Subway Boss Emmet! We were hoping-" 

to be honest, most of what this fellow said went over ingo's head because Emmet was all he cared about right now. It was him, the man in white! His hand reached out on its own but with closer inspection, ingo slowly noticed and he withdrew his hand.  

There were smaller inconsistencies, the strips on his coat were cyan when it was supposed to be brownish-red like his. And the emblem, one of the signifiers that helped him identify himself, was different also! Two arrows, one pointed up while the other pointed down. There were more, like his tie and his hair. It was all different! All... wrong? 

“You aren’t listening” Emmet stated. Though his smile didn’t change much, and his tone was even as ever, but somehow Ingo just knew this man was being cheeky with him, "too much on your head, perhaps?” 

“Ah yes” ingo blushed a bit “my deepest apologies, I thought you were someone else.” he nodded toward Subway Boss Ingo. To which he gave a short wave. 

“No worries, Sir! It hasn’t been the first time” the man gave him a small smile. Wait, what did he mean by not the first time? “But to summarize, we were wondering why you were standing here all by yourself and we wanted to ask if you would like some assistance.”  

“Thank you but there would be no need.” Ingo stood straight, mirroring the bosses’ posture,” I came here with my niece, you see and -” realization came to him like a freight train. His niece! He was about to go look for her when the duo interrupted him. 

“Apologies but I have to go!” Ingo pushed past the bosses and dashed for the pillar in the middle of the room. But he was pulled back before he could enter the crowd. He glared at the hand holding him, it was Emmet’s. “What do you think you are doing? Unhand me!” 

Ingo shooked his hand to break free of the man’s grasp but to no avail. “i must go get her. She could be lost herself!”  

“Nope.”  Instead, with a smile, Emmet pulled him back to them and closer to the wall. Letting his arm go, Ingo pulled his hand back. Emmet and his Ingo stood in front of him, blocking his way to the pillar. Subway Boss Ingo said “Please stay behind the yellow line! you’ll get lost if you join the line with that train. And about your niece, it’s Dawn, correct?” 

“h-how did you know?” the air must not be traveling to his head because did he just hear the man spoke her name?  

“Like we mentioned, it hasn’t been the first time.” The Subway Boss gave him a small smile, one that only he could make from his own frown. “Now, if you’ll please follow us, we’ll help you reach the ticket booth.” 

As promised, the bosses and him weaved through the crowd with no fanfare, though somehow the road to the booth was a long one. 

Along the way, they didn’t talk much but he did get to see more people that dressed like him. More Ingos and Emmets, some were traveling in pairs, some were with companions! Pokemons and humans alike (he noted that the black hair woman seemed to appear a lot), some were traveling alone, waiting like he was.  

All of which didn’t help reawake any memories for Ingo but among the sea of self, ingo didn’t felt that lonely in his lost and confusion. For once in a long time, the hope in him was reignited and maybe he would get to go home.  

The pace slowed and stopped all together. Being closer, the size of the pillar finally dawned on him. It was enormous, ingo couldn’t see the top floor eve when craning his head up all the way. At the front of the pillar were a grand arch and neat queues of people lining in front of it. 

“we are here!” Emmet said, “Now to find your niece.” he climbed on his brother back, placed his hand above his eyes and gleamed over the lines. His older brother, while bend over, let out a deep sigh. 

“UNCLE INGO!” 

All three men looked over to find the girl they were looking for running at them. She ran straight to Ingo, giving him a big hug. So big that it almost toppled him over. “i’m sorry for making you wait for so long” she said not lifting her head from his stomach. “i was lost”. 

“it quite alright Dawn” with one hand pulling her tight and the other patting her head, he hoped he had conveyed to her enough of his relief. “Everything is alright” 

“Oh! I almost forget!” Daw pushed herself off her uncle and stood up, pulling her uncle with her. “Look! Look!” 

Following Dawn’s pointed finger, Ingo thought he was looking into a mirror. A true reflection, another him, with same worn coat and hat, the same tired face and the matching goatee, looking at him with his hand crossed behind his back. The reflection nodded at him and by instinct, he mirrored the action. 

“Warden! So that’s where you have been!” the subway bosses came over to “Warden’s” side. He smiled at them; they conversed quietly among each other which was quite a feat because the whole place was noisy already. 

“i thought he was you so i was lost.” Dawn explained, she quickly added” But then i noticed that the button on his head was different! And then he led me back to you!” 

 “Then we must thank him, yeah?” with a nod from Dawn, the niece and uncle duo hold hand as they went over to the three men.  Ingo bowed deeply and Dawn copied him. “Thank you for leading miss Dawn back to my station.” he spoke. 

“Thank you, mister warden.” Dawn cheerily added. 

“no need to thank me for it’s a duty of the warden to lead the astray back on the path of safety.” the Warden deeply bowed in turn. This “warden”, was he like him also? He looked like him, but his demeanor was different, calmer and more content. He also wore the same emblem as the other two bosses as well. 

“you must be pondering over our similarities, am i correct?” the Warden said as he stroked his goatee, thinking up a way to explain this whole ordeal “i would be too if i was in your position.” 

”You and i and this fellow over there” he pointed at the subway boss “are all Ingos. unlike him though, you and i were both displaced, lost in the vast space and time, but unlike me, you are on your way back to your original station now and I am very happy for you.” the warden came over and patted him on the shoulder. 

“but what about you? With those two’s help, you should be on your way too, right?” 

“correct! But we haven’t found where that is yet” he retreated his hand “We are still searching for it but we also help conduct anyone we encounter on our way to find their way back!” 

“that’s right!” the subway bosses finally joined back into the conversation “after finding mister Warden and learning about his decoupling from his family, we had made it our new objective to help those in similar situation. And this station is one of the many points that the universes intersect with each other. A stop of many where we try to look out for a line leading back to mister Warden’s station.” 

“with that all settled, i think it is time for us to depart. “Emmet said while also gesturing toward Dawn who was hang off his side, looking bored out of her mind but she was being quiet out of polite.” let us get back to our track.” 

“Right. Again, thank you for conducting miss Dawn here back to me and we wish you luck on your journey.”  

“Of course! Now Emmet, is there anything you’d like to add?” the subway boss asked. His back facing his brother’s, ingo knew what he was about to do. 

"Follow the rules and drive safely! We're headed for victory! All aboard!" The subway boss in white strike the old so familiar pose, with his left arm straight and pointing at him while his right arm straight to his side and point down. 

“All aboard!”  subway boss ingo said their phrase in a voice full of excitement and mirrored his brother’s pose. They truly looked like a complete set, black and white, a two-car train. Looking at them, ingo got a glimpse of what home could be like. That, hopefully, when he finally reached his destination, returned to his rightful place, he would be able to do this with his brother as well.   

Dawn tugged at him to do the pose with her also. Ingo smiled and so they did. “All aboard!” The duo returned their excitement in full. The trio of universes hoppers waved them goodbye as Dawn led them through the arch in front of ticket booth, to where they would be waiting for their train to go home. 

When they reached the platform, it was just in time, a train had just pulled in. They quickly went in and settled themselves. Dawn was knocked out practically the moment her head hit the cushion. Ingo repositioned her so her head was on his shoulder and his arm was securing her to his side. Slowly enough, ingo began to drift out too. 

In the final moments of his consciousness, he thought over the encounter he had had. To think that out there, there was a family waiting for him at home and that there were also people and versions of him and his family helping people finding their way back home. All of it gave him such a warm feeling in his heart. His chest tightened and he brought his unoccupied hand up to muffle his hiccups. Some tears were building up on the edge of his eyes and some were traveling down his cheeks already, leaving a trail of warm wetness. 

“Please wait for me...” ingo crooked, his closed-up throat made it hard to talk, let alone be quiet about it. But he needed to say it, in the hope that his words would travel through space and reach its intended recipients. “...I'm almost home.” 

And with that, his eyes closed, and he let himself be lured to sleep by the rumble of the train, the comfort of the cushion and the warmth of his niece at his side. 

...... 

............ 

.................. 

somewhere, in a small office, deep in Gear station, a man laid under a big pile of paper. surrounding him were more papers, diagrams, maps and large symbols. he rose up abruptly, making the papers flew ever where.

“ingo?” 

[starlingflight]

Hi! just here to tell you that I'm absolutely loving your fic, I'm so Bewitched by your writing!!💙 I usually dislike AU/canon divergence but your writing is so good, I'm hooked. I feel we're lucky to get such amazing content for free lol. I hope this brings you the same joy I get when I see a new chapter! Also, can we please get a sneak-peak? Lots of love💙💕

Thank you, this so kind 🥹🥹🥹🥹

Here is the snippet I posted to the @greenhouse-seven Cheer Squad yesterday! From Chapter 9:

Sirius was lounging on the sofa in the sitting room, a plaid blanket spread over his legs to guard against the autumn chill. A leatherbound book was open on his lap, and a crystal tumbler was dangling casually from his hand.

A smile appeared on his face as he took in Ginny following Harry through the doorway. His eyes widened as they settled on the spot where her hand was joined with Harry's.

“Oh,” his grin morphed into something mischievous. “Has it finally happened?”

“Has what finally happened?” Harry’s eyes followed Sirius’s gaze to their clutched hands and widened similarly. His fingers disentangled from Ginny's at once. “That's not – I don't – we were just –”

Sirius's bark-like laugh filled the sitting room. Ginny forced the corners of her mouth into a smile, ignoring the pang of longing at the loss of contact.

“It's nothing,” she said, more for her benefit than anyone else's. She'd learnt a long time ago not to look for signs of Harry's affection where they didn't exist.

“Of course,” Sirius said doubtfully. Ginny didn't allow her smile to drop; she had long suspected Sirius knew about her feelings for Harry, she was relying on his goodwill not to spell them out to his blissfully oblivious Godson. “Shouldn't you be at a notorious Halloween party right now? Ginny, you're certainly dressed for the occasion.”

“We should,” she agreed, trying not to think about how ridiculous she looked with her cat ears and her whiskers. “But there’s been a situation… Harry has something he needs to…”

She trailed off, turning expectantly to Harry but he seemed to have lost his words again now he was actually confronted with Sirius.

“Harry?” Sirius’ smug grin disappeared, replaced by a look of concern for Harry's mute state. He placed the tumbler on the coffee table, sitting forward seriously. “Is everything alright?”

“No,” Harry said bluntly. He walked further into the living room, practically collapsing into the armchair beside the wood-carved fireplace.

Ginny remained hovering by the door, suddenly aware she was intruding on a private family moment. She took a step back towards the doorway. “Maybe I should wait in the kitchen –”

“No,” Harry said again. He inclined his head towards the free armchair beside his. “You should stay.”

Her hesitation lasted only another moment in the face of Harry’s solemn expression. Silently, she nodded and stepped forward, sensing both Sirius and Harry's eyes on her as she walked to the chair.

“What's going on?” Sirius asked, frown still in place as his eyes darted between Harry and Ginny.

Harry cleared his throat nervously. “We need to talk about my mum.”

“Your mum?” Sirius’ frown deepened. “What about your mum?”

“Was she a witch?”

The question hung heavily in the air between the three of them.

Ginny held her breath, watching Sirius for any hint of a reaction. She didn't know what she expected, probably for him to laugh, to tell them they’d lost their minds. Definitely for him to look at least mildly surprised by such a question. She certainly had not expected his expression of defeated resignation.

Neither had Harry, judging by the flinch of betrayal that flitted across his face. Ginny felt it reverberate through her chest; it took all of her willpower to remain seated rather than embarrassing herself by crossing the room and wrapping her arms around him.

“Where did you hear that?” Sirius asked, shattering the fragile tension that had settled over the room.

“From Bathilda Bagshot,” Harry answered, his face hardening with every word. “Is it true?”

“I wasn't aware you knew Bathilda Bagshot,” Sirius said conversationally.

“Yeah, well it looks like we’re all unaware of some critical information, doesn’t it?”

Sirius was one of the few people not to be put off by Harry’s dry tone. He merely sighed, marked his place in his book and stood, crossing to the window, where he had a better view of Bathilda’s rundown cottage.

“What did she tell you?”

Harry glared at Sirius' back. “A lot of things that you should’ve told me.”

[weekend-whip]

Ninjago Fic Rec Week (2024): Day 2

Prompts: Multichaps/Villains! (catching up slowly but surely~)

Multichaps:

Shark Bait: ALRIGHT CONFESSION I haven't actually *read* this one yet ONLY because I know it's going to soooooo good and it's going to change my brain chemistry so I'm waiting until I am Emotionally Prepared but UWAH just the premise alone should be enough to entice you: Movie!verse with completely secret identities, and Lloyd/Green Ninja trying to take matters into his own hands...only for irony to make them worse, as is the story of his life. This author is already a legend as it is so who needs a summary GO READ GO READ NOW!!

Ninjago: The Nya Perspective: SINCE this masterpiece favorite of mine just updated not too long ago, there's no better time than to recommend it once again! Have you always wanted more from Nya in the early seasons?! Have you always wanted more of HER side of story?! Have you wonder how Nya became the person she is today?! Well wonder no longer for this story has got those answers and more!!!!

Sharpen the Scythe, Before He Reaps: Another that I've started but never finished, it's a reworking of the Day of the Departed, so you know it's FULL of Ghost!Cole goodness, from the good to the angsty!! And what I've read so far is sooo soul-grabbing (pun somewhat intended) and makes me wish DotD was even half as introspective as this jhgfdgfd

Thank You For Giving Me Wings: Over a year later and this is still my only multi-chap ninjago fic (...that, uh, isn't Legacyverse nor OC-related, oop). Still, it's never a bad time to have a little introspective on Wu bonding with his students over the years, moreso as family than anything else <3

All I'm Asking For: Quite possibly one of my very favorite Ninjago fics ever, it is REQUIRED reading as far as I'm concerned! Cole's the anchor character, but it follows EVERYONE in a slightly-altered aftermath of March of the Oni, with everyone recuperating, figuring out what's next for them with their lives and relationships, and spiced up with a little Christmas flair <3

Mechanical Hearts: A story I've been keeping an eye on for a while, it's a college Jaya au with plenty of Jay+Cole dynamic spread on top, and the way the author (hi Finn!!) writes all the characters is so deep even in the lighter moments and makes all the senes in the world for the setting they're in, and I love all the little nods to canon or the cheeky changes made along the way–it's so enjoyable!

Villains:

for want (for nothing): Not technically a villain, but Kai's certainly an antagonist here ooooooooh (a different, heart-wrenching take on the Kai-Lloyd confrontation in S4)

Lord Garmadon Is Not Impressed With the Future: Another one I've recced before, but now it has an equally villainous SEQUEL so I've gotta get everyone on the train again! And this story's got villain!Garmadon and villain!Garmadon-but-having-a-personal-crisis upon realizing that his future is...not at all what he wanted. And he also discovers himself beating the life out of his own son–so yeah. We definitely can't have THAT. Good stuff, good stuff.

Bucket List: Might be a slight cop-out since this is moreso about Kai BUT it IS my favorite Morro-related fic, and he is a villain, thus it fits! (...Plus I gotta put at least three stories in this section, c'mon). Anyway, Kai allows Morro to possess him for less-than-ideal reasons and presents a fascinating dynamic between the two and what it means to truly live and take responsibility (the good, the bad, the ugly, and all). Be mindful of the tags and warnings, though!

Outgrown (from Spider Lily's Claws): I knew I almost forgot a Harumi one! DR-fic in which Harumi stumbles across the monastery looking for a place to recuperate, and a company-starved Lloyd welcomes her to stay. A fascinating look at a Harumi who's still got her "Evil" instincts but is still trying to act in her best interests, while Lloyd...is Lloyd hgfhgd. I love their back-and-forth bad-idea-good-idea dynamic here a LOOOOOT

[demxters]

Okay, how about Regency au with Bradley x F!Reader. Reader thinks Bradley hates her. They get stuck in a hut at night and Reader starts freaking out because she thinks she’s either going to be ruined or forced to marry a man that hates her for the sake of her reputation. Bradley does… what?

—𝐓𝐇𝐄 1

bradley bradshaw x f!reader

regency!au

wc: 810

warning(s): fem!reader, one mention of death, the patriarchy 💀

find on ao3 here!

a/n: help this has been in my drafts forever i’m so sorry 😭 i don't think i've written for bradley much and i'm trying to write a fic for him so i'm hoping this turned out okay!! also sorry for any inaccuracies, i have zero knowledge of regencies this is all knowledge from google alksjksd

He can just barely make out your silhouette in the dim moonlit garden. The rain continues to pour down around him and he can only imagine that you must be freezing out here. You were only wearing a lightweight gown after all.

Bradley's steps go from slow to a light jog as he throws his pea coat over his head to shield himself from the heavy droplets. Though this was quite useless as he was already soaking wet.

He approaches you slowly, careful not to startle you in any way. His heart sinks at the realization that you were crying. Your hands clenched the wooden rails so tightly that the skin of your knuckles lightened slightly. Your shoulders shook with every heaving, uneven breath that fell from your lips. Bradley's fingers twitched at the sight of your tear stained cheeks.

"Go away, Bradshaw," you sigh. You don't even need to turn around to know that it's him behind you. His labored breaths and the pattern of his pattering footsteps have become all too familiar to you these days.

No matter where you went, Bradshaw followed. You hated it. You hated the Duke and his ability to make your heart skip a beat and stomach do somersaults. You hated that you would’ve never received an ounce of his attention had it not been for the arrangement your parents had made with his.

Bradley wants to roll his eyes at your stubbornness. “Not until you come inside. You’ll freeze to death out here, my lady.”

Your grip tightens on the wood as you snap, “I’m not a lady and I am most certainly not yours. I would rather die than go anywhere with you."

He tries not to take your words to heart, knowing nothing about your situation is ideal. Still, he can't stop the not so subtle fracture of his heart at your words. "Please," he whispers. He doesn't know what else to do to get you to listen to him. "Just come inside so we can sort this out."

"Don't you understand? There is no sorting this out. The fact of the matter is no matter what I say or do, my fate has already been decided for me," you start. You finally muster enough strength to look at him and it's then that he is able to see just how broken you really are.

You're not the same girl he met all those years ago with stars in her eyes and childlike wonder. Not to say he wasn't as enamored with you now as he was then. It was just more evident to him now that something in you changed; something so big that it left you with nothing but the shell of who you used to be.

"But maybe if we just talk to your father-"

You scoff. "What good will that do? Talking to my father won't change the fact that the rest of my life is ruined. That I'm ruined. My entire existence is worth nothing more than to be the bride of a man who hates me."

"A man who hates you?" Bradley's shoulders drop in realization. "You thought I hated you all this time?"

Your own shoulders slouch. "You haven't done anything to convince me otherwise."

He winces. Bradley thought it'd be better to keep you at arms length, just until the wedding. He thought he'd have a better chance at winning you over after the marriage. He was a fool for thinking so. But you were right. All he has done is push you to listen to your father in fear of stirring any more conflict between you and him. He never just sat down and listened to you. He couldn't bear the thought of you thinking he hated you. Because that's something Bradley could never imagine to be possible. He adored you more than anything and he will spend the rest of his life proving it to you.

Testing the waters, Bradley turns to you, taking a step forward. When you don't retreat, he moves again. Your gaze meets his and he feels his lips tug upward instinctually.

The next few moments go by in slow motion. He raises his arm, hovering his hand carefully by your cheek. His brows furrow in a silent ask of permission. You still don't move and he takes this as your own subtle act of acknowledgement.

His thumb softly brushes the apple of your cheek and you let out the softest breath at his touch.

"I know my words don't mean much to you but I promise, you could never be ruined with me."

The sincerity in his eyes made you believe him, if not only for a moment. You played into the daydream of having a husband who loved you and that you chose to love. Maybe in another life, Bradley would've been the one.

tgm! taglist: @joaquinwhorres @harrycherrylove @smoothdogsgirl @t-nd-rfoot @dempy @ollyoxenfrees @potato-girl99981 @averyhotchner @2guysonascooter @loveforaugust @blue-aconite @fandom-life-12 @stiles-banshees @iamdannyday @hotch-meeeeeuppppp @bradshawseresinbabe @breezemood @emorychase @eli2447 @angelbabyange @finelytaylored @pono-pura-vida @hecate-steps-on-me @blueoorchid

[perotovar]

twenty questions for fic writers 💖

tagged by @kedsandtubesocks and @nerdieforpedro thank you, loves! ♥

1. How many works do you have on AO3?

technically 4 lol i'm slowly moving my stuff over there. i barely get any traction there compared to tumblr so it's sort of just there in case anyone prefers that format. i like the community i've built over here so i'm not worried about it!

2. What's your total AO3 word count?

apparently 60,272 which is WILD

3. What fandoms do you write for?

the pedro pascal cinematic universe! i've thought about branching out into the bg3 fandom or possibly a couple other games, but the inspiration is with the pedro boys rn ♥

4. Top five fics by kudos

i'll go with the highest number of notes on here i suppose??

baby i'm-a want you (joel x javier p)

into the beat of the night (frankie x oc!river price)

bloody kisses (shane morrissey x tim rockford)

ásjá (pero tovar x ofc!helga)

rebirth (javi g x reader)

5. Do you respond to comments?

i've been really bad about it, but yeah, i certainly try to!

6. What is the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

ch1 of bloody kisses ends pretty angsty, but it's got nothing on given to fly, my joel x tess drabble (which i don't think a lot of people even know i wrote lmao)

7. What's the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?

i can tell you right now, itbotn will have a happy ending :)

8. Do you get hate on fics?

i don't think i write the popular boys enough for that. and most of my stuff is queer, which has a smaller audience. so, fingers crossed, no not yet

9. Do you write smut?

yep

10. Craziest crossover?

i feel like putting one of the characters in a macho man heist movie into a goth club was a pretty insane crossover lol but probably bloody kisses, too, because it's between a criminal and a detective. who says opposites don't attract? 😉

11. Have you ever had a fic stolen?

not that i'm aware of omfg

12. Have you ever had a fic translated?

no, but that would be cool!

13. Have you ever co-written a fic before?

yeah, me and @chronically-ghosted work on bloody kisses together! her contribution is my favorite chapter so far, definitely

14. All time favorite ship?

joel/tess has been one of my absolute favorites for years. halsin/astarion is a very close second <3

15. What's a wip you want to finish but doubt you ever will?

i really wanna write the metal!pero and metal!ezra fic but i'm not sure i'll figure out the plot for it sdflkghjdg they're messing with me a lot

16. What are your writing strengths?

i think i'm good at dialogue? banter?

17. What are your writing weaknesses?

interesting descriptions. describing a mood/atmosphere is fucking hard and idk how y'all do it lol

18. Thoughts on dialogue in another language?

i think it's cool! i wish i spoke spanish better than my beginniner duolingo ass can so i can use it more often, but yeah lol

19. First fandom you wrote in?

it was for a band lmao like 10 years ago. i wrote like 2 smutty oneshots and have promptly deleted them off the internet

20. Favorite fic you've written?

god, that's an evil question! tbh it might be a tie between itbotn and bloody kisses. those are my babies and i'm super proud of the universes i created with them!

np tags: @ezrasbirdie @sp00kymulderr @qveerthe0ry @for-a-longlongtime

@goodwithcheese @missredherring @marisferasiop @swiftispunk @mrsmando

@ghostofaboy and anyone else that wants to ♥

[offsidekineticist]

I'M BACK!

This chapter took forever to figure out. Turns out the pacing was off, and what I figured would be 1 chapter is actually going to be closer to 2 or 3 chapters. Which is frustrating cuz it really feels like the fic just keeps adding chapters to itself at least as quickly as I can write them.

ANYWAY. Time for More Feelings! And Qweck being Absolutely Done with her customer service job.

Previous chapter (part 16) here

CW: Suicidal behavior and ideation; references to burning to death; burns; body horror

Nobody Is Always Right

"Yeah, so, would it be possible to get the Laria's Latte with no milk? And no caffeine?"

You take one of the ceramic cups on the counter and hand it to him. "Yes. Here."

"Oh...do I go fill it somewhere?"

"You wanted a latte with no milk or caffeine, right?"

"Yeah."

"There you go. NEXT!"

"Wait - I never actually ordered - "

"Sir, you have been served. If you want something else, please go to the back of the line."

"Whatever happened to 'the customer is always right?'"

"It was a lie. Nobody is always right, and you're old enough to learn that."

Usually this is where Mori, the brown-eyed girl from Corentyn who came in with a crop a few days after you arrived, would slide in between you and the countertop with a fabricated excuse for you to go back to the store-room while she smoothed things over with the customer. You would pretend to be torn about leaving someone so newly freed to handle the customers alone before acquiescing. By the time you returned, you’d have calmed down, and the problem customer would be gone.

Usually.

Today, though, Mori is desperately avoiding your gaze. All of your coworkers are desperately avoiding your gaze. They barely speak, and when they do it is only what is purely necessary. No niceties, no small talk, no jokes–just the bare necessities. And it’s not even your fault.

He took her in, raised her on his own, and she has nothing but contempt for him–and so she started pouring poison in your ear and you just believed her?!

The trap door to the dormitories above the shop was still open when Giliys arrived last night, and he was loud. Everyone in the building heard what he had to say.

But of course you did–she’s a pretty face, isn't she? She's someone new and exciting and we both know you–

So now, instead of bailing you out, Mori is very deliberately looking through the beans and blends under the counter, even though you don’t need any, while you are having the worst self-control day you’ve had since you were an initiate at the cloister in Ostenso.

You don’t know what exactly has caused their alienation–are they embarrassed at having heard that? Are they upset because they believe what he said about you and Laria? Are they jealous that you have a “father” you don’t supposedly don’t appreciate? You don’t know. Nobody will tell you.

“Where is your manager? I want to talk to her!”

“You’re talking to her.”

“What about Laria?”

“She’s out sick today.”

Laria came downstairs before sunrise to open the shop, only to find ash covered streets swarming with guards. She went back to her room after that, leaving you in charge to “keep the customers from walking all over” the newly freed employees. The others think Laria is just really upset about all the people who are missing or dead. You know better. You don’t know the nature of her relationship with Giliys, but she seemed surprisingly fond of him. You wonder if she still is, now that you’re sure she knows what he is.

“Well, then,” the customer–a dark haired youth, almost certainly a student–takes a moment to recover his equilibrium. “I’ll be back when she’s better to lodge a formal complaint! You have no idea how much trouble you’re in, Miss, I–”

“PRINCESS!”

The entire cafe seems to turn to look at the harried halfling running through the door. 

“What are you doing here?” you hiss.

“Look, it doesn’t matter. I have to talk to you now. It’s an emergency.”

You feel your face cool. “What happened? Where’s Theo?”

“What? No, Thay’s fine–it has to do with–y’know–remember at Rivad? The part I don’t remember?”

“Excuse me! I am still here!” the customer exclaims. You throw a wet dish towel in his face before turning to Mori.

“You take care of the customers, I have to deal with this.”

“You’re just leaving?!” Mori asks–the first thing she’s said to you today.

"How dare you!" The customer shrieks, his voice cracking. You ignore him.

“Yes. Is that a problem?” You don’t mean to glare at her, but you must have given how she seems to shrink into herself.

“N-no. Sorry,” she mumbles, and you know you’re going to catch hell for this later from Laria, but you don’t care.

You walk out from behind the counter, grab Giliys by the arm, and drag him into one of the backrooms of the coffeehouse, ignoring the brat's entitled spluttering. You do not slam the door behind you. You push it closed with exactly the appropriate amount of force for the situation. 

“The fire in the Villegre. That was you,” you say, skipping pleasantries. “It happened again.”

He squeezes his eyes shut and nods. “Yeah.”

That fucking bastard. You pick up the first thing you can grab–an apple–and hurl it at the wall with a roar. “I should have killed you at Rivad,” you snarl.

“Yes,” he agrees. “You can kill me now, instead.”

“Don’t tempt me,” you snap.

“I’m not tempting. I’m asking.”

Your body feels like ice. “What?”

He closes his eyes with a deep breath, and you are suddenly struck by how exhausted he looks. “I can’t stop her. Next time she comes out, I won’t come back. So we can’t give her the chance.” He flicks his wrist, and an ornamental dagger slides out of his sleeve into his hand. He holds it out to you, pommel first, tip angled towards him. “She’s weak from what she did this morning. If you’re quick, she won’t stop you. When it’s done, get rid of the body–make sure nobody will ever find it again. She’s trapped in a gem in my chest. Nobody can be allowed to find it again. She’s too strong now. My fault for feeding her.”

This–he–what?

“What about Theo?” you ask, suddenly remembering why you are so glad you didn’t kill Giliys at Rivad. “You’re going to leave me to deal with him alone?”

His exhaustion shifts to regret. “I’m sorry. If I had a choice–”

“You did have a choice!” you snap. “You had a choice when you decided to let a monster live in a gem in your chest!”

“I know.” He takes a deep breath. “Please, Qweck. I don’t know I’ll be able to do it by myself.”

He never calls you Qweck. He also never begs.

Another thought strikes you. “What does Theo think of this?”

His jaw sets. “Just take the fucking dagger, Qweck.”

“Does he even know?”

“Please–”

“It would kill him to lose you, you know that, right?”

“He hates me!” Giliys exclaims. “He just forgot. I confused him–he’s not himself. It’ll be better once I’m gone.”

“He could never hate you! I don’t know why you keep saying he does, but he doesn’t, so if you actually care for him, you’ll find another way to–”

“I fed her some of my crops.”

For a moment you wonder with confusion when Giliys was ever a farmer, and why plants would satisfy a creature that fed on souls. You know what the word ‘crops’ means to a Bellflower tiller, but no tiller would ever think of doing what Giliys just said he had done.

And yet, as you stare at him in dawning horror that you’re sure is visible on your face, he holds your gaze with something like defiance. “I had to feed her souls to keep her from taking over. So every so often–when she got hungry–I would pick out someone from my crops. Someone alone, who had no one waiting for them. Someone that no one would miss. I’d say I had a place in the city and invite them to stay with me while they got their feet under them. They always said yes. Always so happy to finally have a friend. I’d take them down a back alley and….” He stops, still looking you in the eye. “They’d always try to scream. It was always too late by then, but they’d try. Hellfire burns fast. It never took long. Just long enough for them to realize. And then they’d be gone. No soul, no body, just a pile of ashes that I’d spread out to be less obvious. And then I’d go back to Cheliax, to Brastlewark, and Thay would see there was something wrong, realize I’d ‘lost’ one, and he’d fuss over how my clothes were wet and muddy, and he’d give me some of his to wear while my clothes dried out, and I’d pretend not to notice they were much too big for him and nothing like what his normal clothes, and he’d give me cocoa and tell me stories about the kids at his library until dawn, and by the time I left, I’d feel ok. Every time I felt her hunger and felt like this time I couldn’t do it, I’d remember that he’d be there when I was done. And it would be enough.”

You’re shaking now, and you don’t know if it’s rage or shock or cold or all of it. “Does he know?” you ask, voice low with anger.

He nods. Oh, gods, he nods. “He told me he’d kill me if he ever saw me again. And then you called me to get him out of Rivad.”

Theo knows. He used Theo to carry him through damning innocents, and he let him find out. 

You’ve known Giliys for decades, worked with him, even vouched for him on occasion. You’ve known from the beginning that he was a murderer, that he subsisted off of a combination of paid assassinations and corpse robbing, but you let it go because he was dedicated to the cause–or so you thought. You shouldn't have. You should have realized–how did you not realize–

But what you’re feeling right now can’t possibly compare to what your father felt when he realized. To care so deeply for another for years, only to discover that he was a monster who used your affection to motivate his atrocities–it would be heartbreaking. The confusion and uncertainty–wondering if you had ever known him at all, if he had ever returned your affections or cared about you beyond your ability to comfort him when his conscience woke. Asking yourself how he fooled you for so long–how you could have possibly loved that–

It was a betrayal that would destroy anyone. How had it not destroyed your father?

Maybe it did, and you just never noticed. 

There’s no thought in your movement. You have barely realized you’ve taken the dagger from him before you have him pressed against the wall, golden blade bared against his throat.

“You son of a bitch,” you growl through grit teeth. You feel his body relax, and that only adds fire to your rage–does he think you won’t hurt him? Does he think your healer’s oaths will keep him safe? That your self-control and discipline will hold you back from giving him what he deserves?

No. He knows they won’t.

This is why he told you. He told you so it would be easy to kill him. So that even if it would break your oaths, you’d kill him in a fit of rage. And it almost worked.

What is wrong with you??

You are a child of Irori on the path to perfection. You should be above this. You should be above snapping at customers. You should be above lashing out at Corvinius. You should be above abandoning your father to the monster who used him.

The bastard must see the rage clearing from your eyes, because his face hardens. “Do it,” he hisses. “Just fucking do it! I deserve it–you know I do–just–”

You need to think. You need everything to stop so you can think and figure out what to do–if killing him is right or if you just feel like it is because you’re angry or–

Pain.

You hiss in pain as you recoil, practically jumping backwards, away from Giliys. You look down at your left arm–the one that had been barred against his chest to hold him in place–and find an ugly burn on the side of your forearm. You hear a strangled cry, and when you look up at Giliys, face twisted in pain as he gasps for breath and claws at his chest.

His chest which is now glowing through his smoldering shirt.

All else forgotten, you move to help him. “What–”

“No–get back! Get back!” he croaks, left hand shooting towards you to push you back if you come too close, right hand continuing to claw at his chest, heedless of the flames and growing burns.

“You’re–”

“What is going–” Your words die as he raises his eyes to meet yours–green eyes ringed with hellfire. You know the answer before he says it.

“Get everyone out. Out. Out now!” he pants.

“We’re too late. She’s back.”

[thegreymoon]

i'm not an anti 😭😭😭 it's funny that you're absolutely missing my point. there are plenty of works about noncon fantasies. it's rare to see an author single out her shou's sexuaI abuse and depict it as erotic while in the SAME story speak about the horrors of sexuaI abuse/sIavery when it comes to other characters. i dont think this is an unfair criticism and definitely not anti nonsense. just because you disagree with me doesn't make me an anti but i digress. my point wasn't call out noncon fantasies in fiction.

You literally said, and I quote:

lmfao?? erotic novels can be written without ertoticizing sexuaI abuse. she couldve done the same with consensual scenes.

This is typical anti nonsense. Sure, we can write erotic novels without eroticizing sexual abuse, but how is that relevant? You cannot write non-con kink into it without it and Meatbun is not being shy at all about what kinks she's into. This is a book she wrote, first and foremost, for herself, and then for the rest of us who share her proclivities. People who would like to read something else - for example, vampire fic, a comedy of manners or a zombie apocalypse - are free to go and find such a book because, in theory, Meatbun could have written any of these things instead of erotic fiction of the non-con variety, but she didn't because she didn't want to, and if she had, non-con enjoyers probably wouldn't be reading it to begin with.

If you don't want to be mistaken for an anti, you should not come into someone's inbox with their rhetoric and expect them not to see you as one.

I sat on this ask for a couple of days and decided to give you the benefit of the doubt and answer in good faith. I did not miss your point, I just thought you were an anti, and in my opinion, dead wrong, so I didn't feel like typing out a proper reply. There is nothing contradictory about the way Meatbun treats non-con vs. rape within the context of this particular subgenre. It is, in fact, a very common trope, where whatever is happening between the main couple is not seen as something that cannot be overcome (or even enjoyed) because the fantasy itself is about relinquishing responsibility for your own sexuality with someone you want all this to happen with. The point is that Chu Wanning enjoyed it because it was Mo Ran, and Mo Ran did it because he loved Chu Wanning. It is the foundation of this kink.

Now, I don't know if you don't typically read fics like these, but contrasting it with actual rape that is not a part of the fantasy is actually extremely common because it reaffirms that the main relationship is an exception, therefore special and safe in spite of the fundamental violation. With actual rape, nobody wants that to happen, not the characters and not the readers, and it is treated as horrific (which is why in fic, we typically use non-con and dub-con warnings for the erotic variety and the rape warning for actual unwanted rape, even though non-con and dub-con don't exist IRL, where it is ALL rape). Yes, there is a contradiction here, but it is something that is super common within this subgenre and something that the readers definitely want to see, in part to validate that what happened between the main couple is the exception to the rule.

Chu Wanning is not going to enjoy being raped just by anyone (though there certainly are books/erotica out there that play with this idea too and 2ha is actually on the very mild end of the spectrum here, which is why I find it hilarious that so many antis get their panties in a twist over it), which we see when he is assaulted by Shi Mei. Just like Chu Wanning, we are supposed to feel visceral disgust (though I do not deny that there are people out there who are into this too, which is totally cool, you do you) because it is happening outside the main pairing, which is treated as special. Mo Ran is supposed to rescue him from the bigger villain because the readers find his possessiveness reassuring and the fact that his relationship with Chu Wanning (consensual or not) is the exception. The encounter ends with Chu Wanning's chastity preserved and Shi Mei defeated and humiliated, which makes the readers feel good.

The rape of the girl that led to Mo Ran burning down the brothel is supposed to be horrific, and it is supposed to give us insight into Mo Ran's actual personality, where we see that when he is not under the influence of mind-altering magic, he finds the act horrifying. He is not a habitual rapist and if it had not been for the extraordinary circumstances (i.e. the mind-bending magic and the fact that he actually loved and wanted Chu Wanning more than he needed to breathe), the violation would never have happened. It is the exception because he loved, just like Chu Wanning wanting and even eventually enjoying it is the exception because he also loved him in return. It is not narratively contradictory, because, within this subgenre, it is actually very consistent, again, because this is an erotic non-con novel and not an actual commentary on the evils of rape.

Anyway, I apologise for calling you an anti if you really aren't one and I hope that me answering your question seriously this time around makes up for it.

All the best! :)

[my-pjo-stuff]

Opinions on lukercy? *asks deviously*

I mean...idc? Like, Lukercy ain't really my cup of tea- but it's not like I hate it or something. I don't rly do PJO ships besides Thaluke- and even there I'm just as good with them being platonic. So Lukercy, like any PJO ship, is just sort of ...there, at least for me. But I genuinely love the shippers! Like even if I personally don't ship it the guys that do are some of the chillest, most respectful non-toxic fans in this fandom. Which...okay tbf the bar is in literal hell- but I do genuinely mean it! To share a little anecdote here- So when I first read the PJO books I had this series up on my main where I posted my thoughts and reactions to the chapters. This obviously attracted some older fans who talked with me and commented, all really nice and innocent stuff. Thing was, I was always very pro-Luke ever since TLT. I genuinely loved the guy- to the point where he unironically was the main draw to the books for me. In comparison, I didn't really care for Percy and CHB people, as I found them rather bland compared to the TA demigods all things considered.

Which- out of context that is nothing bad! Absolutely not- it turned into one though when someone at some point asked my thoughts on Percy/Percabeth. I replied to them with the things I said above, that I find them rather bland compared to Luke and that I don't rly care too much for them. And MAN when I tell you that reaction was WIIILLDDD. They went on like an 8 messages rant in the notify section of that post about how I "just don't get it" and "Am so unfair" and just "judge characters on the amount of trauma they have" 💀 Genuinly that is a forever PJO fandom core memory now. They even demanded me to talk about and dig into Percy like I did with Luke because they "knew that I could do it since I did it with Luke". That shit was crazy- they sounded like my teacher wanting me to write more in a poem analysis or sum T-T Fr the only reason I didn't block them then and there was bc previously they were pretty active with my posts and nice to me- had that user been a stranger they would have been blocked SO fast. After that they just interacted less and less with my stuff and I haven't spotted them in my notes since lmao. So yeah, that's my fun story of how a Percabeth Shipper/Percy fan basically demanded that I go and analyze their favs just bc I could do it, and they wanted me to. And, well- say what you want but that certainly never happened with any Lukercy shippers XD Some of my oldest PJO mutuals and friends are Lukercy shippers actually, genuinely great ppl! I think all the hate you guys get is just genuinely weird af like??? It's a fictional ship between two fictional characters, calm down man. Yes I can see how some ppl might be uncomfortable with it and would prefer to just block the tag and users who like it entirely- but it ain't that deep. Go outside. Hug your family. Get some hobbies. IDK just stop treating a fictional yaoi ship like the plague itself. At this point it just straight up borders on weird how worked up some ppl get XD I do read some fics and like some art, mostly bc, again, a good amount of nice mutuals of mine ship it and I'm just supporting their work. TL:DR : Not my cup of tea, but I love the guys who ship it and never had one single bad experience with them. As opposed to everyone else. Also ppl should stop hating on it so much and just move on if they don't like it.

[thursdayinspace]

20 questions for 20 writers

tagged by @thatfragilecapricorn30 @randomfoggytiger and @baronessblixen thank you!! <3

1. How many works do you have on AO3? 21

2. What’s your total AO3 word count? 70.063 -- this is my new AO3, so that's why it's still so low, haha.

3. What fandoms do you write for? Only X-Files now.

4. What are your top 5 fics by kudos? spectacular (glasses sex!), it's the day the world didn't end, from this morning forward (that makes me so happy), got you covered, wild side

5. Do you respond to comments? yes. if I ever don't, I'm sorry, it's not because i didn't love your comment, but i just don't get around to it right away sometimes. but i try to reply to every single one because i love them all.

6. What is the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending? ohhh. i don't write super angsty endings . . . I guess mend into pieces bc it's season 2 and they know they're making a mistake, but we all know they'll figure it out eventually, so.

7. What’s the fic you wrote with the happiest ending? they pretty much all end happily. i'm going to more or less randomly pick five ways to say i love you. because i loved writing that ending.

8. Do you get hate on fics? so, okay. there are two stories here i want to tell from an old fandom. one is funny. one is kind of great, really?

the funny one: i got a looooong comment on a fic, like several paragraphs long, going into great detail about why the fic sucked and why i sucked and why i had personally offended them by writing fic at all. they obvs meant to comment anonymously but forgot to log out. by the time i got to my computer, they had deleted their entire account. of course i had their name in the ao3 email. i laughed so hard at that.

the kind of amazing one: i got a very rude anon on tumblr, and i responded by saying i'd be happy to discuss their criticism, but i wasn't going to have a conversation with a hockey puck with sunglasses, and asked them to come off anon so we could talk. and they did! they showed up in my dms a short while later. we solved nothing and did not part as friends, but i actually have mad respect for that. wherever they are today, i hope they have taken some anger management classes and are doing well!

9. Do you write smut? If so, what kind? yeah, i certainly do. idk what kind? the porny kind? lol no i mean it's kind of lame but fun.

10. Do you write crossovers? i wrote a stargate atlantis/firefly crossover centuries ago but that was it. or maybe start trek with sth else, i don't remember.

11. Have you ever had a fic stolen? not to my knowledge.

12. Have you ever had a fic translated? i don't think so, no.

13. Have you ever co-written a fic before? yes! it's so much fun and i would do it again.

14. What’s your all-time favorite ship? mulder and scully!

15. What’s a WIP you want to finish but doubt you ever will? i plan to finish all of them.

16. What are your writing strengths? it used to be dialogue but i don't think it is anymore. idk? i think i can create an atmosphere?

17. What are your writing weaknesses? i tend to repeat myself a lot and then skip over other things completely. i'm not good with transitions between scenes.

18. Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language in fic? i haven't done it, but if it would make sense for a fic, i might do it.

19. First fandom you wrote for? stargate atlantis. i was very late to the fanfic party.

20. Favorite fic you’ve written? it's called 'ellipsis' and is still with the beta. but of the ones i've already posted, either from this morning forward or yesterday's future.

Randomfoggytiger added additional questions:

1. Is writing a hobby or way of life? i mean it's a hobby but it's definitely also a way of life. there isn't ever a time when i don't think about writing and everything all the time connects in some way to a thing i'm writing and i can't imagine what i'd do without writing.

2. A journal full of writing notes or a clean, completed manuscript? completed manuscript! or notes? uhh . . . both?

3. Who (or what) is your writing inspiration? everything. random things. i can't think of one specific thing, it can be literally anything.

4.Which is worse: someone you "idolize" reading your first draft or listening to you sing? both thoughts are equally awful lol

5. Has writing from someone else's POV ever changed your own perspective? yeah, i think so. not in any big way, but about smaller stuff, just the way i look at certain things? yes.

6. Tumblr, AO3, LiveJournal, or FFN? ao3!!! my tinkerbell brain loves the comment section, haha. also it's just so much nicer to read on ao3 and there's the download option, so also as a reader, def ao3.

7. AO3 wordcount, and are you satisfied with it? 70.063 - no, i'm not satisfied with it. i used to write multi-chapters with more words. but it's a new account so yeah starting small again.

8. What movie/book/fic gripped you irrevocably? jasper fforde's 'thursday next' series. it's where i stole my name from. literary detectives? oh man. it's the kind of story where you wish you'd had the idea first. go read it!!!!!

9. What's the highest compliment you could ever be given, and have you been given it? i am really really lucky to have been given so many amazing compliments and i appreciate every single one. i couldn't say what means the most to me . . . probably when it's personal to the commenter? when someone tells me sth i've written touched them in some way. bc that's what i want to achieve.

10. What defines your writing style? lol idek man pretentious purple prose? i think i live somewhere between overuse of metaphors and focus on the rhythm of a text. i love writing in english bc it flows so nicely. idk is trying to make it sound nice a style bc then that's at least what i'm going for.

who hasn't been tagged? no pressure tags for @backintimeforstuff @nachosncheezies @actual-changeling and everybody else who wants to!

[ctimenefic]

Fic authors self rec! When you get this, reply with your favorite five fics that you've written, then pass on to five other writers! 💗

Aaahh thank you for the tag! Okay I'm going to venture back through the mists of time here so, apologies in advance that some of these are not about the vroom vroom men. But we'll go in reverse order, so you guys can just shut your eyes halfway down when we leave the bilgewater of rpf for the filth of the MCU etc.

First off, don't like a gold rush - it was really close between this and positive negatives, and I do consider them almost sister fics, in that they are both one half of Galex going completely insane. BUT. I have this fear about being only able to write AUs. Is that a weird thing to have a hang up about? Probably. Nevertheless, I do. So writing a fic that is plausibly within the canon of, uh, real life sportspeople, is important to me. (However there is one mistake that was a failure of research which will haunt me til I die yay)

Second, Imperator - yes sorry having said I have a fear of being pigeon-holed as an AU writer, here is a historical AU I enjoyed writing a lot. However, it's a fave for me because it's just one scene, but I feel like I got to tell a whole shared life story within it. Nothing else I've published has been this neat and self-contained without feeling sparse, imo. Also, I strongly advocate for evil George as part of a healthy diet.

Third, Indelible Ink - uh oh, fandom change alert, we're in Daredevil land now. Indelible Ink is the sequel to the most popular (?) fic I've ever written. It is a work of endurance. It took me years to complete, and I finished it during the height of Covid in 2020. I have some incomplete fics on my Ao3 profile that still make me cringe with shame, but finishing this gives me hope that someday, I'll clear those WIPs as well. It's also a break up make up, which is truly one of my favourite tropes, because of the complexity of emotion it entails. This is one I look at and go, oh. A grown up wrote that. I'm a grown up.

Fourth, a question to which the answer is not - the only Merlin fic I still acknowledge don't ask about my ff.net account. Similar to Imperator, I like how neat this is – it's three scenes, a single day, there's a deliberate dramatic structure to echo the fact that they're actors. I don't think it's quite as strongly done as it could be in drawing a whole world, in part because the fanon around Merlin Modern AUs was already so pervasive and also because I at one point planned to write a prequel (lol). But it is a sweet and simple idea that I pulled off, like a well-iced cupcake.

Fifth and finally, My ear should catch your voice - back in the Daredevil fandom, this one became a favourite because of the comments I got. In fact, because of the comments I got from one single person. I hope they don't mind me shouting them out, but warmfuzzydyke, if you're out there – I think about you every single time I think of this fic. A lot of the time, I feel writers talk about what they put into a fic, and I certainly did with this one – it has a lot of my feelings, big and small, about faith and music and grief – but seeing what warmfuzzydyke was able to take away from this, god. It's why I still write.

[lavendertales]

Hi!! I love your TLOU writings! Do you think there's anyway you could do a Joel Miller (Pedro) x f!reader with a tall reader? For reference Joel is 5'10 or '11 and I'm around 6'2

It can be smut, fluff, whatever you feel. It's just rare to find fanfics with taller readers 😂 (bonus points if they're plus size)

Thank you so much!!!

as a pretty tall person too, I LOVE THIS IDEA SO MUCH. You're so right, it's rare to see fics with taller people, so let us remedy that, shall we?

Lover—Joel Miller x tall, plus size!f!reader

word count: 609

A/N: this is mostly just fluff with a very smitten Joel Miller. hints of smut, though nothing explicit. Nonetheless, as a lot of my works and my blog is 18+,

AGELESS/EMPTY BLOGS & MINORS WILL BE BLOCKED!!!

gif: @olisgifs

There have been eyes on you since the day you have arrived in Jackson, and months later, there are still eyes on you.

Except now, the eyes that follow you everywhere you go are Joel Miller’s.

And his express something else than the others’; there’s a certain mixture of admiration, awe and desire whenever he looks at you. You’re a tall woman, taller than him even, but he loves that. He loves the way there is more of you for him to adore whenever the two of you are alone. He loves kneading your flesh in between his fingers till it spills from in between; he loves hoisting your legs over his shoulders when he’s fucking you.

He loves every single inch of you, just as you are.

Truth be told, you were astounded at the newfound realization that Joel is borderline unhinged when it comes to you. You hadn’t always had a pleasant experience when it comes to meeting new people, particularly seeing their eyes roam over your tall figure, then dropping to notice the bit of extra weight that your body carried. You were never really bothered by it, you were quite confident with yourself, but sometimes it still got to you.

But ever since you and Joel became an item, any worries you might have had washed away. While he may not have been the most expressive person, and certainly not the most talkative, he showed his care through various acts of service—especially in the privacy of your house.

It was basically impossible to be even remotely bothered by the things that, according to Joel himself, made you an incredible woman.

“You cannot be serious,” you laughed one evening before bed.

“What? You think I’m joking?”

“I don’t know, you tell me.”

Joel’s gaze shifts to your legs, long and teasingly exposed in your gown as you lay beside him. He runs his palm over your calf, teasingly moving upwards to your thigh.

“I ain’t joking,” Joel coos, kissing your cheek, then moving to your jaw. “It’s one of my favorite things about you.”

“My height?”

“That’s right.”

You don’t hide the amusement that your face bestows.

“Not sure how that is a turn on of any sort, but… whatever floats your boat.”

Joel’s kisses go further down your neck, hand touching on your inner thigh now, rubbing the skin there. You smile, closing your eyes and trying to focus solely on the touches, but it only grows your desire more, and you can barely hold your moans to yourself.

“I got so lucky,” Joel mutters in your earlobe.

“I’m the lucky one.”

With Joel, you felt safe and cared for. And you made sure to return his affections tenfold. You enjoyed taking care of him, and you enjoyed seeing that he opened up to you more and putting his trust in you.

“Is it okay if we just watch a movie tonight?” you ask, looking at his face.

Joel instantly removes his hand from your inner thigh, simply caressing your knee. He then pecks your lips and gets more comfortable on his side of the bed.

“Of course,” he tells you.

“I know you probably wanted—“

“It’s okay. What movie do you feel like watching?”

“Well, I heard they’re playing Rush Hour at the cantina.”

“Sounds good.”

These are the moments that always reassure you that you have a great man by your side. In these moments, it’s more than your looks. It’s about safety and comfort, the feeling of coziness that Joel brings to you every single day.

You’ve never felt more confident or loved than when you were with Joel Miller.