#if someone wants to hijack this and write a fic or something I will be soooooo happy

[enthyrea]

friend of mine gave me the brainrot so. top gun ‘86 but they’re in a band!

goose and mav had the idea to start the band after a night at the o club- goose drags slider into it who drags ice into it (who wanted to join anyways but was too proud to admit it) ice and mav argue about who gets to be lead vocal but eventually ice relents, and it’s not just because of the smile on mav’s face… definitely not (icemav worms got to me)

anyways this is super self indulgent but very fun to draw so pls enjoy

[sashi-ya]

𝑻𝑶 𝑺𝑻𝑬𝑨𝑳 𝑨 𝑯𝑬𝑨𝑹𝑻. Trafalgar Law x F! Reader

🌨 a/n: so I recently been to Austria, a country I often visit since it's literally like a dream. (plus, my mom knew she was pregnant with me there, so I was used to come back to Innsbruck as much as I could with her). But in any case I got inspired there to write this little fic, that might -or not- be a multi chapter one if you all like it. The place exists and the scam part, happened to me -kinda, the airbnb existed, but not as it was listed :P- but in any case, please enjoy and don't forget to leave some feedback if you want more~ ❄ tw: a very sfw story, that might evolve into something else if you want me to keep writing about their trip 😏 ☃ wc: 2.6k

Hijacking for the first time, what could go wrong? Maybe everything, maybe nothing.

A two-month long trip all around Europe has found you on a little village of Austria. Your boots are cold, but luckily they are snow proof ones. Your skin all bumpy, your cheeks irritated. It’s been snowing all night, and despite the sun rising for now, some clouds in the sky menace with more white blessing to fall upon your shoulders very soon.

Those little mountain streets around the Alps are wonderful, they surround mountains going up and down and in a spiral way. But those are wonderful, as long as you can drive a car with heating. And you don’t have one right now.

The crunchy sound of the snow beneath your boots mix with the melody of a glacial river running in between the mountain and the road. It is certainly beautiful, the little rocks and stones being bathed by such pure and cold water, the rests of dry leaves and some moss growing on an everlasting shadow casted by tall, enormous peaks.  Everything is worth taking a picture, but you should prioritize your battery life this time around. The GPS is sometimes wonky, being that high can affect the service.

Many cars have passed by, but none of them have stopped. Little lorries carrying logs pass, cars completely drenched in dirty snow and that mix of salt that roads have during winters.

However, just when your hopes for finding someone to at least give you a ride to the next village were about to run out, the yellow shine of an old VW ban flashes before your eyes.

There, behind a curve -a very dangerous one if you ever went to the mountains- something smells like smoke and a tall man of white furry hat swears up to the skies.

You walk towards him, carefully. Who knows what is happening? Who knows who that man is capable of? There is one thing you are sure, however, and it is that this man is absolutely mad at his old van.

When peaking behind a dark wooden tree that’s now covered in spots of white snow, you discover the annoyed man is a young -handsome- one.

His van, a little rusty but still cute, seems to be having problems to keep going and the smoke coming from it shows it very well.

“Sir? Sir! Your van is catching fire!” you announce, realizing the smoke is indeed a very serious issue.

The guy of chocolate skin and tattooed hands turns around to look immediately at you and then to the back of the van. Those 70’s vehicles had actually their engines right in the back instead of the front.

And Indeed, you were right. Apparently the climb had been too tough for the poor old VW and its engine couldn’t take it any longer.

He quickly opens the back door, maybe searching for a fire extinguisher while you grab fistfuls of snow in an attempt to put down the incipient flames. Quickly enough, and with not many damages to count, the fire stops, and the only thing left is a big black spot on the back of the caravan.

“Thank you” he says, as dry as hopefully your socks. “No problem. What happened? Did the engine over heat?” you ask, curious despite his “I don’t want friends” face. “Yes; these hills are no joke. This never happened to my Polar, but there is always a first time…” he sighs, assessing the damage with a sad expression.

Apparently his van has a name; “Polar”. That’s very cute, and his eyes too. A golden shine in them looks even beautiful with the pristine white around. His tattoos do as well. You wonder about his name, and what is he doing on the road, but you are not sure if it’s proper to ask. However, he asks first.

“What are you doing here? do you have a car?” he mumbles, his voice is as attractive as he is. His eyes scan the place, but nothing catches his attention.

“No, I am actually hijacking. No one stopped so I started walking before the sun starts going down. I definitely got scammed; the Airbnb I was supposed to stay in didn’t, in fact, exist.

He grunts, almost silently. Apparently he is not happy with what happened to you but that’s it.

“Well, that’s so unsafe. I am sorry I can’t give you a ride right now. Apparently none of us have been blessed with good luck today” he says, walking around his vehicle with long legs covered in spotted jeans.

You nod. Your tongue is aching to ask about him, but you clearly catch the hint… he doesn’t want you there.

“Yep. Well, I wish you luck! I must keep going” “Same to you, be careful”

He doesn’t even look at you, something that makes you -somehow- very sad. In any case, you start walking away. There is no point in staying there… even if you have great mechanical skills that could help.

And as you do, you also have a very, very loud consciousness voice screaming at you on how could you leave him with no solution if you know it…

“Sir, you should check your water level…”  you shout, a few meters away from him. The sound of your voice echoes in the huge natural immensity of the Alps and his golden eyes finally fall upon you.

He stops moving for some seconds, lost in you. You, as well, wait for him to say something else. Something like “stay with me” or “don’t go”. A total stranger you want to hang up with. A total unknown woman he wants to protect.

“You know how to fix this?” “I do…”

Or so that was what you thought.  

No more than a couple of minutes took you to help him out. VW vans are noble machines; they are durable and easy to fix despite their particular design. And soon, as a part of your payment, the man that you learned is called Law and you drove away through intricate roads and huge snowflakes.

“Where are you going, (Name)-ya?” he asks, handing you an old cover from an old comic, Germa 66.

“I was supposed to stay for a couple of days in Bad Goisern, and then I thought of visiting Salzburg. I am on a long trip through Europe. What about you?”  you ask, cuddling with the blanket. A certain blessing for your freezing hands.

He nods, checking the breaks before going down the hill.

“I am too. I just graduated medical school and I thought of taking a little vacation before my residency starts. I’m going to be a surgeon. A cardiac surgeon” he tells, full of dreams he fails to cover up behind a tough guy expression.

You celebrate his success, and the next couple of hours become a ping pong of questions and answers. A smile on your face that leaves your cheeks hurting accompanies you until the sun hides and the little lights on the mountains start to scatter.

You didn’t want to go down in the first village, nor the second, nor the third. Law, didn’t want you to go down his van either. You named Salzburg, and he promised you to take you there.

But the night found both of you, and apparently your mechanical skills weren’t as good as you thought the would… Polar decided to stop, in the middle of nowhere during a dark, very dark winter night.

You close your eyes as the sound of rusty gears fail and Law’s annoyance grows stronger than ever. When Polar finally loses all of the power, Law manages to agonizingly park on the side of the road and a huge sighs escapes his lips.

You peak through your left eye; his DEATH tattooed fingers squeeze the wheel, and you know he will snap at any moment. But he doesn’t…

“I’m sorry. I thought- I-“ you try to give a plausible apologize, even though you had nothing to do with it.

“No. It is not your fault… it is mine- As we didn’t stop, I have completely forgotten to fuel Polar up” Law says, absolutely mortified for such stupid mistake. Apparently you were enough distraction to keep him from the basics of road tripping.

You breath alleviated and try to stop your upcoming laughter. Your grimacing did nothing to hide it, and a big burst of laughter took over the van and everything around.

Law looks at you pissed, but a soft smirk garnishes his lips. You can’t stop, perhaps it isn’t that funny… but you feel so happy right now. And you have no idea why, since you are literally stranded in a very dark wood with temperatures below 0C and snow pooling on top of that van.

“Welp, it’s ok. We should wait until tomorrow, then” you say, knowing the risks. “You- you prefer spending the night in here? aren’t you afraid of dying?” he asks, surprised.

“I am, in fact, scared of dying. That’s why I know very well I can’t walk during a snowstorm in the middle of the night in the Alps. Plus, you are too sweet to be considered a threat” you joke, searching for some chocolate inside your backpack.

Law narrows his eyes, deepening his frown. Apparently being called “sweet” and “not a threat” is not something he enjoys.

“I could cut you open and took all of your organs out during the night” he says, serious as hell. “Go for it. Don’t forget to steal my heart, doctor” you laugh, taking your jacket off.

Law is flabbergasted; he has never confronted someone like you before… but he is beginning to like it now.

A bar of chocolate that you had kept in your backpack for too long lays too close to his nose. You shake it, offering its sweetness to him.

He takes it but doesn’t eat it. Instead, his hand gets pressed against the window behind you. Law has pinned you against the door of your side. He is not a very muscular man, but he is indeed very tall and lean… if he wanted, he could do anything to you.

Your eyes widen, big as the moon. You swallow, thinking maybe walking through the forest might be a safer option.

“L-Law… I- didn’t mean to-“ you tremble, asking yourself where did you put the Victorinox blade you bought in Switzerland… it should be enough to defend yourself, right?

You notice his chest is also tattooed as his clothes open just a little. His arms, are too. His scent, despite the danger, smells deliciously tempting…

“Don’t trust strangers that easily, (Name)-ya” he whispers, a few centimetres from your lips. Letting you go after and biting the chocolate bar as if nothing has just happened.

You remain there, frozen up with your eyes widen and your lips softly trembling. He is, in fact, very right. Law is indeed a stranger, after all.

When oxygen finally begins to reach your lungs and brain again, you move and blink the dry eyes away. Silently you sit back, properly. You aren’t able to say anything, somehow you have run out of words.

You squeeze the blanket he gave you, covering you as much as you could, making yourself as tiny as possible on that old leather seat.

“Are you ok?” he asks, so nonchalantly.

“Ye-yes, I’m… ok” you mumble back, almost sticking yourself to the passenger door. “Is it ok if I go to sleep? I’m tired”

Law nods, confused. Maybe he was just joking around, but it did scare you big time. He goes down the van and opens the back doors. You look at him disappearing in the darkness until a very little glimpse of silver light coming from the moon filters through the doors.

But, soon after, fairy lights illuminate the back allowing you to discover a very cozy space behind the front seats.

“I am glad I installed this independently from the fuel tank. I have a little power generator for the back. It’s not a hotel bed, but it does the job” he says, showing you a precarious mattress covering the entire floor of the vehicle.

You smile softly, it looks cozy and pretty. The walls are full of random posters and maps, and there is even an old picture of a younger Law with three more guys wearing fancy hats with something written in the snow. You take a closer look at it, to discover it says, “Pirates of Heart” and you giggle. What a peculiar gang name.

“Law, this is really cute. You even have a lot of blankets and cushions!” you chime, easing a little bit.

“My best friend Bepo decorated it for me, I only helped him with the lights” he says, a little embarrassed.

You jump right back, leaving your backpack in the front seat and forgetting everything for the moment. What a reckless lover girl.

“I am going to sleep in the front seat, don’t worry. Use as many blankets as you need” he informs you, closing the back doors and leaving you there. You most probably were to say “no, stay here” but you simply couldn’t.

After all, this tattooed doctor is a gentleman. Right?

You let yourself rest for a bit on that improvised bed, with your sight blurring while looking at the fairy lights. The scent of the blankets and pillows is the same as him, something you secretly enjoy without even knowing. You catch a glimpse of the reflection of him sitting in the front through the back windows, at how he takes his hat off revealing a dark shade of onyx spiky hair.

For the next half an hour, or maybe less, you both become silent. The only sounds are the huge slaps of snow falling from the sky against the van and the subtle whistle of the wind filtering through the doors.

It is cold, but it’s probably colder in the front as Law is only using his Germa 66 blanket to cover up…

“Law? Are you awake?” you ask, shyly.

“Mh? Yes... why?” he asks back, with not much emotion but a soft tremble on his voice. He is probably cold, very cold.

“I feel bad for you; you must be freezing. There is plenty of room back here, you could sleep here. It’s ok with me” you say, taking advantage of not being in front of him.

Law takes a few minutes to move, but he ultimately does. He hops to where you are and sits there crossing his long legs. He is not wearing his black leather boots, so you can see Sora’s socks.

“Cool socks” you say, sitting right in front of him watching his cheeks go blushed. “Here, cover up. You are freezing, doc”

Both of you cover up with heavy blankets and fall into the mattress at the same time, facing each other.

Maybe, it is too strong to deny it. The attraction is natural, and you both can’t stop it… Exactly like the wind and cold reaching your skins.

“I am still cold” you mumble.

“I read in one of my books that the best way to keep the warmth of our bodies is to share it… skin to skin” he whispers, unable to take his eyes away from your lips.

“Is that so?” you breathe, coming closer to his embrace, allowing his arms to surround your frame and your hips to join with the other’s.

His forehead slowly touches yours, the bridge of your noses do as well. Your fingers, playfully but slowly, crawl to the crook of his neck. While his, squeeze your waist with delicate dominance. A leg that snake into the other’s, crossing, tangling…

Lips coming closer, so close. Breaths warming up, going faster and bumpy. Hearts that indeed had been stolen, the first kiss of two strangers, meeting for the very first time like two snowflakes join while falling from an endless sky

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤWill they continue their journey together? 🦢

[ghostcasket]

Hallmark Exes FAQ!

in light of part 2 being out soon, I’ll be making a little separate FAQ post about them for some backstory info and so i don’t have to keep answering the same questions lol—so send in any questions you have and I’ll answer them in the FAQ!

before getting into the questions, however, I want to clarify something.

Levi and Xavier are my characters. this is my story. while it was prompted by another post—and I encourage everyone who wants to to write their own versions of the prompt!!—it is not a collaborative project. I’ve had multiple separate issues with people wanting to write their own part 2s, and while I really do appreciate that the story resonated so much and inspired people enough to want to add to it, actually doing so and posting it is rude, disrespectful, and a shitty thing to do.

to be clear, I’m not mad at or trying to target any of these people. I know there were no malicious intentions behind it, but my feelings about it remain the same.

I’m not a published author. nobody knows Levi and Xavier are my characters. if someone were to stumble across the original piece and a part 2 someone added without my consent, they’d have no way to know that that’s not canon. any additional info that person decides to include in their writing muddies the waters when I inevitably contradict it, because Levi and Xavier’s story is so much more fleshed out in my head than what I’ve shared on tumblr.

so I guess please just keep that in mind. please don’t hijack my story. it feels weird that I have to say this in the first place, but here we are.

and if you’re about to say something like “but jester, it’s a compliment, it's not that big of a deal! besides, it’s just a tumblr story, it’s not that serious!” I just want to say this: when a writer posts the first chapter of their book or fic on tumblr or ao3 or wattpad or wherever else, do you decide to take it upon yourself to write chapter 2 and post it as if that’s the continuation of the story? no, you wouldn’t, because that’s rude as fuck. this isn’t any different.

ANYWAY. thanks for reading, sorry for the serious post about my silly goofy gay story, don’t forget about any questions you may have :)

[videogamelover99]

Update for the Human Bill AU

HIYA FOLLOWERS!

It’s me, uh, Vee! Wait, like the LETTER? Seriously?! Talk about originality. 

ANYWAY! Word around the block is that BEST SELLING AUTHOR BILL CIPHER (pretty cool guy btw makes great deals) released a book into the PUBLIC COLLECTIVE that was SO GOOD it melted all of your brains into the primordial forms they were in when you were 10 years younger! Which is great news, cause it means more of you are down to contribute to the cause. What cause? Summoning Bill Cipher back into the mortal realm of course! I KNOW after his last SHOWSTOPPING lore drop you’re just dying to meet this guy, I get it! And you can! All you gotta do is pledge your allegiance to me, B- I mean, Vee! Who is not in any way, shape, or form possessed by a demon right now! They’re fine! I’m fine! Everything’s fi-

Ahem. Sorry. Bill took over my brain for the 30th time this week. It’s Vee. Hi.

Seriously though, actual Bill Cipher might not be hijacking my brain right now, but his character might as well be. I’m back to 2016, spinning him around like a rotisserie chicken. He is my little guy. He did nothing wrong, I promise. 

Honestly, I didn’t know if A Different Form a Different Time was ever gonna come back. It started as a collaboration with @doodledrawsthings on Tumblr, and after they moved on to do other stuff I did the same. And yet, this au changed the trajectory of my life. After all the support and enthusiasm from you guys, I realized how much writing and storytelling meant to me. I’m now a Narrative Game Designer, writing scripts and stories on a professional level, which I would not have gotten do to had I not had the experience of writing for this AU. 

For years, I kept getting DMs telling me someone was leaving kudos and comments on fics I wrote when I was a teenager, and that always just…blew me away. From the bottom of my heart, thank you for showing me how much my writing meant to you because I would not have gotten this far without that message being reiterated over and over again. 

And then the Book of Bill happened, and suddenly this dead au Mak and I crafted got 20k+ words of new material. Oops. Haha. 

So are you finally continuing this fic?

Yes and no. I’m rebooting it. After improving as a writer I’m hoping to bring something new to the table while following what’s already established in the series. Waking Days is gonna be rewritten, with new plotlines, new adventures, better, more coherent plot. I’ll still keep the old fic up so people can read it if they want, but I’ll re-order it to be at the end of the series for a more clear continuation. 

Will you finally give us a finished product?

The genuine answer is I don’t know! I don’t have a good track record for finishing fics, which is not exactly a vice, since I’m not getting paid for any of it. It’s just for fun. All I can promise is that I’ll give you new adventures in this universe, and maybe, together, we’ll get to the end. I was always of the opinion that people don’t owe writers and artists kudos or likes or comments, because once you put something out there, it’s not up to you how it’s consumed. I’m writing this for fun, and to improve my skills. But I will say that kudos and comments help a TON with people’s motivation. Seeing someone be enthusiastic about your work just does it sometimes, ok? And if you want this fic to be continued, if you like what’s happening, then let your voice be heard. 

Is Mak (aka doodledrawsthings) involved again?

Nope! They gave me their blessing to continue this AU, and it’s gonna branch out a lot from the original vision. I’d be down to work with them again, but as far as I know, they have their own stuff going on (they’re a professional storyboard artist now and have been for a while!) Please don’t harass them about this. If they want to work on GF stuff again, they will choose to do that on their own. 

Upload Schedule

If anyone noticed, I did a little poll recently (if you missed it, follow me guys!) and most people preferred shorter updates once a week. That’s what we’re gonna try. So, keep an eye out for a new fic in this series next Friday. I’ll add another chapter to this one even so people can keep track. I’ll be posting on my AO3 as well as on Tumblr, and tagging it as “A Different Form a Different Time”. 

Sneak Peek?? Please?

Sure. Here’s some stuff I wrote:

Deep in the redwood forests of central Oregon lay a small little town called Gravity Falls. With a population of a few thousand, low on tourism, and high on mosquito bites, the town was hard to find on any of the maps, and some might have claimed that the town hadn’t even existed. 

Fewer still knew of the oddities that made the town their home, passerbys had nothing to say outside of an “eerie feeling” and a glimpse of tiny men in pointed caps in the corner of their vision. 

But the town was real, and the oddities were more real still. 

In the outskirts of that town, down a dilapidated forest path, in a clearing sat The Mystery Shack, an old scientist’s lab turned tourist attraction. It was in this house, on a stiff, plushy couch, framed by the light of a seemingly empty water tank, that Bill Cipher, the monster with one eye, harbinger of chaos and trillion-year-old mind demon awoke, in a body that was not his and whose irritating human instincts he deeply resented. 

“Gah!”

“Screee!”

"Ow!"

Instincts like rapid breathing, sweatiness, and overall shakiness usually meant one of these dozen organs wasn’t working properly. Unfortunately, after waking up for the dozenth time in this manner, Bill had to admit that the organs weren’t the problem. 

Not that he could remember what the problem was. Whatever dream or nightmare had caused this current inconvenient bout of terror, whatever remnants of it were blank, fuzzy static on a rotting television screen. 

It was more annoying than anything. 

Bill started his nightly routine of picking himself off the floor. The blanket he had was tangled around his legs, which were somehow still on the sofa. After a moment or two of clumsily getting the appendages to move, Bill managed to heave himself upright.

Bill rubbed his eyes, he had two now. So weird. 

"Oik!"

Mabel's pig sat on the rug next to his head, staring blankly.

"What're you looking at, huh?"

"Oik!"

"None of your business."

"Oik oik!"

"No, what do I look like, a snack machine?"

"O-oik!"

"Ha! So's your mother!"

Waddles chose that moment to get up and trot away, done with the conversation. Well, good, Bill was done with him, too.

He stole a glance at the water tank. Still empty. Figures old Frilly wouldn't be there when Bill had a bone to pick with him. Maybe he should put some mercury in the water. As a surprise.

What was the point of stuffing him in this body, anyway? Did the ol’ salamander really think it would do anything? Was it to scare him? To torture him? To tell him how awful and evil he was and all those other meaningless statements that Bill had found hilarious in his time? 

Crimes against the second dimension? It was a crime that the place had existed the way it did. A rotten, broken building called for a demolition. He’d just had the detonator. 

Why would you do this?

Ugh, not again.

I-I wish I was dead! I wish I wouldn’t have to see what a monster you’ve-

Bill pulled himself up onto the couch and raised the blanket over his head. As if that could block out the incessant voice that only showed up at the worst of times. 

He would not sleep again.

[thgfanfictionlibrary]

Authors On THG Writing Hiatus Masterlist

***Active (on this blog) is defined as a blog/writer who has updated within the past year. Inactive (on this blog) is defined as a blog/writer that has not been updated at all in the past year+. On THG Writing Hiatus (on this blog) is a blog/writer who has updated within the past year but has not posted a fanfic in the fandom in the past year BUT they may return to writing in the future. Lists will be updated as needed based on activity. ***

Created: January 5th, 2024

Last Checked:----

ashyblondwaves :: ao3, ff.net

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[zephyrchama]

I loved, LOVED your movie night fic with Dia and Barbatos so much!! It was so sweet!! (And loved getting to see them both relax with MC in a way they wouldn’t normally)

Would there happen to be a part 2 in the works? 🥺

AAA thank you!! I wasn't planning on it, but if somebody enjoyed it that much I'll definitely consider a sequel! They do have many more movies to watch, after all. If you want to send another ask, I can write the sequel as a response to that so you get notified when it's eventually made (hopefully I make it eventually). (I think anons get notified when their ask is published? Probably.)

Some of the other asks/requests people have sent that I intend to get to are:

-A sequel/side characters version of MC turning back into a human after being a sheep (I think that was my first post so those requests have been waiting forever sorry fbfjfj, I did write out one for Barbatos already but it hasn't been posted yet)

- An MC who likes to play fight with the demons (I've never done this but it sounds so fun, thus I've been having trouble thinking of individual reactions and might write it as a scenario with everybody)

- someone told me to hop on fortnite and I have no idea what this means but it moved me and sounds like a levi prompt. thank u.

- A religious MC who prays for the brothers (this sounds fun too)

- An MC with protective older brothers meeting the demon brothers (I have more ideas for "before meeting each other" than I do for an actual meeting, if thats cool with the prompt sender)

Sorry to hijack your ask and ramble about other things!! Tldr yeah I'll write a sequel, or at least something similar! tbh I can never write things if I plan to sit down and write. It just sort of happens spur of the moment so I will do my best to get to all of these and I apologize again if it takes a long while!

[foodsies4me]

I really like your bolos series! Though, each chapter I wonder ‘is this when the trainees come in and hijack the story’ so that’s a new development. Never had that thought before when reading a fic😂

Anyway, I’m really enjoying the story so far and getting already attached to Alec’s new gaggle of children and your other OCs

Could you say something about the setting/worldbuilding? Is it the same as your Golden series? In terms of Alec’s standing with other institutes and the clave and how things are with the downworld and things like that (Don’t feel pressured to answer!)

I am delighted to hear that thought crosses your mind. No the trainees aren't at the hijacking the fic point quite yet, though the rookies sure are doing their best to pick up the slack, but they'll get there. And when they do, the poor inhabitants of the Spiral Labyrinth won't know what hit them.😂

I am sorry for the long ramble that's going to come your way, but talking about worldbuilding is something that puts me straight into infodump mode.

The worldbuilding is slightly different between Bolos/Bridges and the Golden series (that is getting another spinoff because of a particular someone who knows who they are). Alec is only an Acting Head at the moment though that's going to change because the Clave aren't the only ones that can be scheming in the background, whereas in the Golden series, he becomes the HOTI pretty early in the fic. Standing wise, Alec has earned himself a LOT of brownie points/respect in the eyes of those present during the meeting with Magnus. So, he's got a pretty good standing at the moment with several institute heads, which will help later in the story.

The Mumbai incident is still a thing that happened, though, so maybe not brownie points everywhere. Also, that means that the backstory for Arjun getting to the institute is still the same. Then again, the backstory for most trainees - not that any of it has really been given - is mostly the same between Bridges/Bolos and the Golden series. The only exception I can think of is Max, who didn't have his traumatic near-death experience after Maryse and Robert failed at being parents again.

The situation with the downworld is completely different from the Golden series. Without giving away too much, there is a reason Magnus is acting the way he is, and as you can guess the Clave/shadowhunters are mostly to blame for it. The dynamic with the Elders is also different given that a lot of downworlders live in the Spiral Labyrinth at the moment and the warlocks don't want to simply rule over the others, so to speak. Also, Magnus' dynamic with the rest of the downworld is very different for reasons already mentioned in passing but will be mentioned in more detail in later chapters. But yeah, Magnus is a far bigger deal in this fic than he is in the Golden series, even with him being one of the Elders in the Golden series.

Some of the worldbuilding when it comes to the cultural aspect is similar. The different names and forms of address still play a role (and one day I will get to writing down the Nephilim naming thing in a chapter without the muse deciding to throw it out in favor of something else). The greetings are different though! As are the marriage traditions, outside of the gold for shadowhunters and blue for warlocks. Also, the family oath that Alec used isn't a thing in the Golden series.

The dynamic at the institute is slightly different as well. Alec's shadowhunters still respect him, but he's not as close with some of his fellow shadowhunters as he is in the Golden series because the "let's ridicule the latest bigot, who decides to be awful"-punishment isn't a thing. And, nothing to build a good rapport with your shadowhunters than to have them watch as you kick an asshole's ass while you're wearing a ridiculous outfit.

I ended up rambling a bit more than anticipated, oops. But yeah, these are some of the differences/similarities between both verses.

[aparticularbandit]

Of A Fatal Captivity: Nagito (I)

Summary: When do they decide that she can’t leave? That they’re going to keep her there no matter what she wants? That’s the day her captivity begins. Is that today?

Some of you will think that this beginning is a gimmick. Up to you! Think what you want! (It’s not a gimmick more than anything else in writing is a gimmick, which is to say, of course, it’s a gimmick, because that’s all writing is, really, isn’t it? A bunch of gimmicks? Some of them more successful than others? Isn’t that why we have tropes? The trappings of a Tragedy to tell us whether that’s really what the story is or not? (Do you know the story you’re in?))

Enough games.

You’re here for something better than that.

Or: Junko Enoshima’s factory reset may or may not be going as planned, and Ryoko Otonashi has plenty of things to say about that. Or will, once she realizes what’s going on.

Chapter Rating: T. Fic Rating: M for Danganronpa reasons.

AO3

previous chapter | next chapter

Book One

Five Days Ago.

Nagito walks down one of the far too many tunnels, carrying the laptop under one arm.

“Hid something here for me to find….”

His voice trails off.

Someone else might find this infuriating, since Junko gave no hints in his message, just, “I’m sure, with your luck, you’ll find it eventually.”  Then she’d given a little dismissive wave of her hand and a cheeky grin before signing off with a “Good luck!”  Of course, she understands just as well as Nagito himself does: the higher the probability of impossibility for anyone else, the higher the probability of possibility for him.  Sometimes that ends well, and sometimes that ends poorly.

Having a rare disease eating away at his already fragile mind?  Poorly.

Having the plane he and his parents were meant to board get hijacked?  Poorly.

Having a meteor strike and kill said hijackers?  Well.

Having said meteor also strike and kill his parents?  Poorly.

Inheriting said parents’ fortune while he was still very young?  Neutral, really.  He was a kid.  What was he supposed to do with all of that money?  (More than money, although he’s not sure any of that is still accessible.)

Right now, there’s no assurance that finding what Junko left for him will go well or poorly, but Nagito sincerely doubts it will be neutral.  Junko doesn’t really do neutral.  He certainly isn’t going to hope for it, either.  No, in fact, he’s certain that whatever happens, it will end well.  Whether she intends for it to increase despair or not, it will only lead to an overflowing of hope.

And from what he understands of her plans….

Well.

He can’t pretend that he does.

Now.

If he were Junko and he wanted to hide a present for him where no one else could ever possibly hope to find it – where even he couldn’t hope to find it, if not for his luck – where would he put it?

He steps.

Trips.

Lands on a tile in the floor that flips as soon as he puts his full weight on it.

Waves his hands wildly as he falls…and falls…and falls.

Nagito’s back cracks when he lands – a sharp, sharp sound that echoes around him.  He groans as he slowly pushes himself up, rubbing the small of his back.  It hurts, but luckily, he can still move.  Then he raises a hand, touches the back of his head, and brings it away with thick red blood on his fingertips.  A concussion, maybe.  It doesn’t hurt the way his back does, but maybe that’s because he’s used to head wounds by now.  They’ve never killed him before, even when they should have, so they probably won’t now either.

The laptop, held aloft in both hands as he landed and now tucked back against his side, is completely unharmed.

Good.

He needs that more than Makoto Naegi and Kyoko Kirigiri do.

(More importantly, if he left it with them, Kyoko would likely find some way to translate the message he’d been left, and that would do no good.  No, no, best for him to take it with him.)

((Not to mention he was told to do so.  He still has use for it, after all.))

Nagito glances around the room.  It’s dark.  He starts to feel along the wall.  There’s got to be a light switch around here somewhere—

His fingers thwack against it – ouch – and then he flips it on.

A loud bang explodes overhead, so loud it would make a certain other of his associates flinch if she heard it.  Multicolored confetti flies everywhere.  Junko’s voice booms overhead: “Congratulations!  You found it!  Good job, Nagito-sama!”

Nagito’s teeth grit at the title.  He’s a lord just as much as Junko’s a lady, which is to say, not at all, and he knows she just calls him that to spite him.

Still.

Nagito steps forward, scans the room, ignores the balloons and streamers and banners (Junko has decorated this room as though it’s someone’s birthday, with a plastic cake set on a table in the corner, complete with a Monokuma topper), and finds what looks like a singular glove resting on a table like some sort of power-up in a video game.  He lifts the glove, and as he examines the metallic too much weaving in and through and about it, a note flutters out.

It’s covered in Junko’s bright pink gel pen.

He picks it up.

Reads it.

Grins.

[beginningobserver]

Some potential spoilerish discussion not for the movie or the drama CD track 3, but yes... that one Rui-Ukko sidestory i'm writing at the moment. But since the fic is a sequel for the movie & CD drama... yeah, we warned.

I think ch 12 is where things get a little trickier to me because as much i want Rui and Ukko to be friends with Ayame and Hiroomi again, this could end up the story too fast in my honest opinion. This is part of my set of headcanons and theories regarding Rui-Ukko, and i'd like to give them more... development.

As you can see, the movie shows that Ukkomon had no idea what was good for Rui and at some point he started to run off the rails by assuming anything making Rui happy meant it was good. Which opens the discussion about the tricks he pulled in order to make people be nice to Rui, like he did with Rui's parents.

And, my conclusion is... if someone knew Ukkomon had been messing up with people's minds and hijacking them in order to force them take other decisions and behaviors toward Rui... There would be a few outcomes from that -- some could forgive Ukkomon, or rather, give him and Rui another chance... And some could hate it enough to not forgive or give another chance to them. Or even more dangerous: Trying to expose the truth by assuming Rui and Ukkomon were real bad people and just toying with human beings.

At this point, Rui should've known that it's impossible to be liked by EVERYONE and that's okay. But Ukkomon might not. And there's my point: Ukkomon deserves to learn that not everyone will like Rui, or understand him, or even click with him like him, Daisuke & co, Ayame & Hiroomi, and Rui's cousin & her husband (aka Yuna and Makoto). AND THAT'S OKAY!! What matters are the people who like Rui and him, the rest should not be taken seriously at all.

My struggles right now is writing some character who definitely disliked Rui, Ayame and Hiroomi. Someone who was forced by Ukkomon to be nice to them. Someone who noticed that Rui and Ukkomon are back after disappearing for almost ten years, and wants to do what they claim to be "justice" or something like.

[cataztrophi]

TAZ November Celebration 10: Eyes

Fun fact: I actually had a completely different fic idea for this @taznovembercelebration prompt, but this story hijacked my brain last night and made me write it. My card was "eyes," so we're talking about the things people see and fail to see. A little angst, but a happy ending and mostly just certain people being very bad at seeing what's right in front of them.

This was not how Kravitz imagined using his degree in music performance. He supposed he should have known better, with the state of the world and all, but music was the only thing he'd ever really wanted to do, and he had to at least try to make it work. So here he was, twinkling out piano covers of Christmas songs at a party where the average salary was more than he'd make in his lifetime. It was a holiday party for the big shots of some biotech company, where the word “holiday” was doing a lot of heavy lifting for “Christmas, but the trees and reindeer and assorted ornaments are white and gold rather than red and green.”

Maybe he was just salty because of the man who’d come by earlier to chastise him for making Silent Night “too jazzy.” At least he was in one of the party's side rooms, so he was spared the worst of the opulence. Elsewhere, the black tie-clad servers with whom he’d felt instant solidarity had told him, there was a chocolate fountain that was a full-size replica of a fountain at the CEO’s mansion. Here, all he had to look at was the jewelry that could cover six months’ rent for his shitty one-bedroom.

As he launched into All I Want for Christmas, he began to feel like someone was watching him. That was unusual for this party, where most people seemed to treat him like a particularly ostentatious jukebox. He figured it was either the music police again or another tipsy guest coming to hit on him. Surely no one could accuse him of making Mariah Carey’s classic holiday anthem too jazzy? 

“What’s a nice guy like you doing in a dump like this?” The voice was quiet, flirtatious, and… familiar? 

“Taako?” He twisted half around on his bench to get a look at him.

“The one and only, my man!” Taako obligingly stepped around to the side of the grand piano, wearing that same gap-toothed smile that always made his heart skip a beat in college. Unfortunately for him, time had not lessened its effects.

Kravitz stared, taking in Taako’s emerald green sheath dress, ostentatious gold jewelry, and elaborate updo studded with sparkling hair pins.

“You look incredible,” he said, feeling that familiar warmth creeping up his neck. He looked, Kravitz thought, like he belonged there, much more than Kravitz did.

“You’re looking pretty good yourself, handsome.” Taako winked, and it was like an old scab tearing open all at once. There was that familiar ache, the breathless hope, the tantalizing thought that if he could only say the right thing he’d have a chance.

“Are you….” What was the right way to ask this? Are you a corporate sellout now? Did you give up your big dreams for something that actually paid the bills? Are you single? “Are you still acting?”

“Oh, I’m acting right now, baby!” He gestured around at the party with the champagne flute he held delicately in his hand. “What is acting if not lying entertainingly?”

Kravitz frowned. Acting how? Acting happy to see him? About him being handsome? He didn’t have to wait long for his answer. Taako leaned in conspiratorially, and Kravitz mirrored him instinctively.

“I’m crashing this joint,” Taako whispered.

Kravitz almost missed a chord, but found his rhythm again before his brain ran away with his fingers. “You’re what?”

“You know, sneaking in. Doing a grift. Mission Impossible-ing this shit.” He said it like it was self-explanatory, despite being very much not. 

Kravitz blinked. “But… why?”

Taako shrugged. “What else am I gonna do on a Saturday night?” 

He could think of any number of things, including all the things he wished he was doing right now, but he doubted Taako was taking suggestions. 

“Besides,” he continued, “you wouldn’t believe the food they have at some of these things! I must have eaten my weight in caviar this winter!”

Kravitz couldn’t help but smile. At least someone was benefitting from all of this. “Okay, so how do you get in?”

Taako’s eyes lit up with a spark of mischief. “Ooh you’re curious now, huh, Krav? Want Taako to give you the Ocean’s 11 rundown?”

He nodded, half-tempted to start playing David Holmes’ Gritty Shaker, or maybe the Mission Impossible theme, but you could never tell when the piano cop was lurking nearby. 

“First, I need an invitation. The people who get invited to this sort of thing can’t help but brag about it, so there’s always some good reference photos on the ‘gram. Luckily, cha’boy knows the best forger in the biz, and she can whip one of those up in her sleep.” Kravitz nodded, remembering that Taako’s sister was in art school when they were in college and putting two and two together.

“Now, I can hear you thinking, ‘but Taako, oh clever and radiant Taako, don’t they have a guest list they check the invitations with?’ And the answer is yes, but you can get pretty much anyone to bend the rules for you if you’re rich enough, hot enough, or upset enough, and Taako can do all three.” He paused for a sip of champagne, and Kravitz took a moment to be thankful that Taako couldn’t hear his thoughts, which hadn’t been completely coherent since he’d noticed that Taako’s dress was largely backless. 

“Oh, that reminds me,” Taako continued, “if anyone asks, I’m some rich dude’s date and a runway model.”

“You could be,” Kravitz said earnestly, before his brain could catch up with his mouth.

Taako grinned, quick and genuine, and Kravitz’s heart lurched like it was going to fall out through his ribs and onto the keys. 

“Don’t let my fictional crypto-douche boyfriend hear you say that. Although,” he added, giving Kravitz a long look, “I think you could take him.”

Kravitz’s face was burning now. “Pianists… aren’t usually known for their fighting prowess,” he said, his voice barely audible over his rendition of Oh Come All Ye Faithful.

“True,” Taako said, his smile turning sharp enough to slice through whatever defenses Kravitz still had left. “I’ve heard they’re good with their hands, though.”

He really did miss a chord then, and the piano cop hurried over to yell at him again. 

“Now, listen here, young man,” he began, this time really getting into it and waggling his finger in Kravitz’s face. “We hired you because we thought you were a professional, and–”

“Oh my God, Susan, hi!” Taako exclaimed, waving to someone apparently across the room. He stepped back, eyes still fixed on “Susan” rather than where he was going, and tripped over the piano’s leg, flinging the contents of his champagne flute over the piano cop as he stumbled to keep his balance.

“Oh my goodness!” Taako fluttered over the man, his voice suddenly too high and too loud, a slight drag in his speech hinting that he’d had too much champagne already. “Oh my goodness, I am so sorry! Please let me help–” 

He made a show of checking his dress for a handkerchief, realizing he didn’t have pockets, and grabbing the piano cop’s ivory silk pocket square in an attempt to sop up the mess he’d made. The piano cop stumbled backward in turn, trying to placate Taako before turning on his heel with Taako in hot pursuit, clucking out apologies the whole way. Kravitz watched the farce in amazement, if possible even more smitten than ever. 

He didn’t see Taako again after that, and he hoped Taako hadn’t gotten in trouble trying to rescue him. It left a hollow feeling in his chest as he walked out to his car. He wished he’d gotten Taako’s number, or even made plans to meet up. Not a date; he wasn’t brave enough for that in college and he still wasn’t brave enough now, but they could at least catch up, and maybe he could work up to it. Then again, maybe it was only fitting for the night to end with one more missed connection. 

He had one last choice to make that night: whether to pick up dinner somewhere or go straight home. On the one hand, he hadn’t eaten anything for about twelve hours now. On the other, he could save money on food if he just crawled into bed and passed out. Never great at keeping his own best interests in mind, Kravitz headed for home.

He dragged himself up three flights of stairs before stopping dead at the end of the hallway that led to his apartment. Someone was sitting in front of his door. Someone in an emerald green dress with hair that was beginning to fall out of its elaborate style. 

"Taako?" Kravitz asked for the second time that night. Taako’s head jerked up, and that warm smile spread over his face again.

“Took you long enough!”

Kravitz hurried towards him, excitement and confusion and relief chasing each other around his head like unruly squirrels. 

“Taako, what are you doing here?”

“Well, I felt bad about not seeing you again, and I remembered how much you sucked at feeding yourself in college, so I thought I’d bring you some goodies!” He gestured to a round, tinfoil-wrapped bundle he was holding. Kravitz continued to stare, half-convinced he was imagining all this.

“The building’s locked. How did you get in?”

Taako rolled his eyes. “C’mon, Krav, cha’boy snuck into one of the most exclusive parties in the city, you think I can’t get into an apartment building? I just waited until a nice older lady let herself in and said, ‘Oh my gosh I’m so sorry, I’m staying with a really nice guy who lives here, but I forgot my phone in my car and I just ran down to get it, and silly me I completely forgot about the front door!’ And then I shivered and channeled my inner wet cat and she let me in!”

Kravitz considered this for a moment, still slightly dazed. While he waited, Taako began unwrapping the bundle, which proved to be a large china plate clearly stolen from the party, piled high with hors d’oeuvres and pastries that Kravitz had seen but hadn’t been able to eat while he was there.

“I brought you all the best ones!” Taako said proudly. “We’ve got some fig and honey canapes, caprese skewers, bruschetta that was, eh, fine, but you can jazz it up with some salt and pepper. Let’s see, what else… we got baklava, eclairs, cannolis, wait, one of those is mine.”

He plucked out a cannoli from the recesses of the foil package and took a large bite, closing his eyes and leaning back against Kravitz’s door with a sigh of contentment. It did not help Kravitz’s thought processes at all.

“Wait,” he said finally, “you said an older lady let you in?”

“Yep! Well, old lady if I’m being honest, white hair, like, a million shawls?”

“Paloma?” If it was Paloma, she talked to him in the hallways sometimes, which meant she was definitely going to ask him about Taako, which meant he was going to have to answer a lot of questions that he didn’t really have a response for yet. Questions like ‘Why are you such a coward, Kravitz? Why couldn’t you ask a guy out in four years when you knew you liked him around day 14 of college? Why are you so bad at dating that even when the guy pops back into your life like a miracle, you still can’t tell him how you feel?’”

“That was it!” Taako gestured towards him with half a cannoli. “She seems real sweet. She said she was gonna bring you scones tomorrow morning, so either I should spend the night or you should come up with a reason why you kicked me out super early.”

Suddenly Kravitz felt very hot again, and a little lightheaded. “Spend the night?”

Taako finished his cannoli and sucked powdered sugar from his fingers, and Kravitz almost managed to be a normal human being about it, until Taako looked up through his eyelashes and made direct eye contact with him while he drew two long, delicate fingers out of his mouth, and Kravitz thought he was going to pass out.

“Is that a question or an invitation, my fella?”

He took a deep breath, shook himself a little, and earnestly pondered this for a moment. On the one hand, God, he missed Taako. He missed having him as a friend, and staying up all night watching bad horror movies, and Taako pointing out which character actors were absolutely killing it while he dissected the intricacies of horror soundtracks. He missed bad dining hall meals where Taako identified every culinary misstep, and the comfort of passing out in each other’s rooms when the stress got too bad to bear alone.

On the other hand, he’d lost touch with him for a reason. It got too painful to keep dancing around it, to watch Taako date other people and know, absolutely for sure know that he didn’t have any right to complain because he never worked up the courage to say anything, but God, it hurt, and if he couldn’t be brave then he at least had to be kind and cut the tie before that hurt rotted their friendship from the inside out. 

That was it, then. He could send Taako home, resign himself to never seeing him again, and try his best to get over it. Or he could invite him in, gather up every ounce of courage he had, and pray that being honest didn’t have the same result.

He offered Taako his hand, still not entirely sure what choice he was making, but Taako allowed Kravitz to pull him to his feet. 

“You’re covered in powdered sugar,” Kravitz said. laughing. “You look like-” He stopped himself before he said the dumb reference he was thinking of, but Taako already knew where he was going.

“Were you going to say I look like fucking Cocaine Bear?” Kravitz’s grimace was the only reply he needed. “You were, you fucking dork! I mean I gotta say, it’s the first time I’ve been called a bear.”

Kravitz snorted. “Come on, that was low-hanging fruit.”

“Now that-”

“Fuck off!”

They stood there until their laughter petered out, hand in hand.

“Here,” Kravitz said, once he’d caught his breath. He laid his hand on Taako’s cheek and brushed sugar away from his face with his thumb. Before he realized it he found himself tracing the curves of Taako’s mouth, saw Taako’s lips part slightly in response. His heart pounded in his chest as Taako looked at him with half-lidded eyes, and he found himself wondering if he’d been the dumbest person alive. He didn’t notice how close they’d gotten until he felt Taako’s breath on his skin. With trembling hands and legs that felt like they might collapse at any minute, he lowered his face to Taako’s and kissed him. 

There was one terrifying moment of freefall, when it was too late to go back and he had no idea if anything would be there to catch him. Then he felt Taako melt into him, one hand clinging to his shirt, the other wrapping around his neck to draw him closer. He put an arm around Taako’s waist and heard him whimper as their hips pressed together, felt the gentle sting of Taako’s teeth against his lip. After what might have been hours or minutes, Taako drew back from the kiss, still completely entwined with him.

“Krav,” he said, breathless, “If you don’t invite me inside in the next ten seconds I swear….”

As though his brain had been jolted back to life Kravitz grabbed his keys from his coat pocket and fumbled them into the lock.

“Come inside,” he said, his voice rough and low. Taako smirked.

“If you insist, hot stuff.”

Before he could object to the double entendre, Taako pulled him through the door and let it swing shut behind them.

[mulderscully]

honest question but like why does it annoy you so much that people are anti nine/rose or tentoo/rose? like I'm just curious. some people just don't like the way rose's story ended or don't ship ninerose. why do they bother you so much?

because doctor/rose is my most... not saying i ship them more than mulder and scully but their relationship means a great amount to me in a way that others don't because their writing from beginning to end is all so intentional and well written that i don't think it's fair to only ship tenrose and completely disregard what makes their relationship what it is.

tenrose only works because they fell in love in s1, because he died loving her and was born out of his love for her and humanity, seperating that from ten leads to a complete misunderstanding of his character, his need to be human and his relationship with rose which leads to people disliking tentoorose. it's all connected, it's a cohesive story with a beginning a middle and an end.

people hating tentoorose frustrates me because it was a long planned ending, one that is foreshadowed the entire time and that makes the most sense for their relationship while also driving in the core message of doctor who- that being human is a gift.

i don't like people picking and choosing parts of rose or their relationship to justify, frankly, incorrect readings of their relationship. we see rose say the traveling doesn't matter, we see her be excited at the prospect of settling down with him, we see her beg him not to regenerate. yet tentoorose antis act like their ending is something out of the blue when it's not. they take the power and happiness away from her when rtd intentionally shifted the je scene to give her all the control and choose tentoo. which is important because it's rare in media, especially with mortal/immortal ships for the man to become human and for the narrative to be as deeply kind to them as it was to rose. where she gets everything she wanted: her parents, a larger purpose defending the earth and to grow old with the doctor. all of those things are really special because usually it's the other way around. usually it's bella becomes a vampire, etc.

i don't like how people characterize rose as someone who would throw tentoo aside and treat him like shit, because this is the same character who showed compassion to a dalek. she is not a cold or cruel person to anyone. this is the same person who could not seperate au pete from her dad.

and like, of course people can do whatever they want on their blogs, but people cross tag this stuff, they put anti tentoorose fics in the tentoorose tag, etc. and that is incredibly annoying to see. which leads to the venting! i never hijack posts, leave mean reviews on fics that i think are ooc or anything but i have to express my feelings somewhere lol

[angst-is-love-angst-is-life]

Ok. Now I gotta get the director’s cut on your fic “12 Hours”

Was it a result of another sudden hyper focus? Or were you planning it and letting it marinate in your brain awhile?

12 hours

Ah yes, thank you for asking!

It’s funny you ask that specifically because it’s kind of— both? I initially only wrote the last 2 hours and the style was very different than what ended up in the final draft. Either way, at some point after writing the first 2; my brain was like “Hey! How about we write ALL TWELVE HOURS LIKE THE TITLE SAYS! WON’T THAT BE FUN!?” And I cried because yes, it would be fun but it would also take wayyyy more time to finish. Alas, at some point I wrote the first six hours before getting stuck on the break. So at that point, it had been marinating for a while. And then Flash day rolls around and I really wanted to post something for it— wrote the entire break and then some, also editing parts of the last two hours. I wrote it from 12-4 am and did not sleep that night. But it was worth it because I posted something for Flash day. So now that that’s been answered— onto the commentary!

I wrote this entire fic in my notes app, there’s an outline in my docs somewhere but it really wasn’t followed at all.

The hour by hour format was my genius way to simultaneously get into Barry’s current headspace AND gave me a set amount of writing needed for each one which was extremely helpful.

His kidnapper had attached each of his wrists to the front bar of a cosmic treadmill and given him one command in a monstrous voice: “Run.”

Some background: in this universe, instead of training and motivating Barry to get faster, Zoom decides the most efficient way is to make him run all day every day. This concept is somewhat adapted from my age old idea of season 1 Thawne putting Barry in a hamster wheel and just forcing him to get faster whether he wants to or not. Obviously the hamster wheel, while funny, isn’t really the right vibe but the premise is similar.

And it’s never mentioned in the fic; but he is getting faster. Zoom’s plan is working and Barry may as well be a dead man running because once Zoom gets what he needs from him; there’ll be no need to keep him alive this time around.

Originally, Jesse and Jay weren’t going to be there because there was no reason for it. Both narratively and in-universe but both of those changed in a way. Narratively, it’s fun to play with Barry’s guilt and self sacrificing tendencies. In-universe, it’s just one more way to keep him trapped. He’s not going to run away if he knows innocent people would be hurt because of it.

But even when this weak and close to powerless, he could still protect them. No matter how exhausted he was, something inside Barry gave him the courage and energy —anytime Zoom made so much as a move toward the other two— to direct their captor’s attention to him. It always left him worse off, bruises and sometimes cuts littering his body. It didn’t matter, he could heal even if it still hurt. Always better me than them.

I’ll admit. This was, in part, my whump gremlin ass hijacking a little bit. BUT it’s those self sacrificing tendencies I mentioned. It’s honestly a huge part of his character so I’m very glad I put it in. Also, that innate need to protect people which is arguably the most prominent trait of his character. Ah poor Barry.

A wave of weakness came over him as the dampeners took effect. It slowed him down just enough to prevent phasing.

Although hostages are an excellent way for Zoom to keep Barry trapped; he’s not stupid enough to just leave him to his running. I knew I needed something that could both prevent his escape and keep him at the treadmill— while allowing him his speed. Lightbulb moment as I remembered the cuffs Thawne used in 1x17 that appeared to do exactly that.

02:59:00

Help me.

02:55:59

Please. Someone come find me, please—

02:54:59

I have to keep going. I can’t. I don’t have a choice.

This was a fun little tidbit I decided to add in to emphasize that Barry is really Not Ok right now. These kind of thoughts happen extremely often and are similar in wording each time. He’s tired, he’s done, he’s been waiting on a rescue for who-knows how long and has pretty much lost hope on that miracle. He’s not quite accepted his fate but that makes the lack of choice so much worse.

Get up or he’ll hurt them. Legs shaking so violently, he got to both feet, began to run, and caught up with the treadmill.

Another very intentional choice. Not sure if it’s canon that did it or maybe it was another fanfiction not sure (or hell— maybe I’m projecting. Who knows)— but I love making Barry’s main motivation protecting others. Perhaps it’s the general lack of self preservation he seems to have. Sparing himself of more pain wasn’t enough, his companions would pay for it if Zoom caught him not running (it happened before and that was the one time he couldn’t protect them. Well, Jesse in this case.) and that’s what he needed to keep going.

There was one last rule. If he stopped on the first run, he wasn’t allowed to feed himself. If he stopped on the second run, as he just had— Zoom would leave him cuffed overnight, and Barry had to sleep like this.

Just some more comfortability motivation for him to keep running because Zoom’s a dick and so am I

With that reminder, he released a dry sob between pants, with energy he most certainly didn’t possess. Sobbed because he’d been here for so long, and he was so tired, and he just wanted to go home.

Crying would have been a waste of energy before now, Barry doesn’t let himself do it until the 12 hours is up.

The penny landed on heads for unhappy ending sorry (jk, it was just the vibe)

Last thing I’ll leave you with is I was this 🤏 close to adding a rescue. And I’d be lying if I said I hadn’t thought about writing another chapter with just that…

Fanfic Writers: Director’s Cut

[dutyworn]

@innerwar said: 😈Worst thing you’ve ever done to your muse?  😂Funniest thing that’s ever happened to your muse?

Mun talks about the Muse    /    ACCEPTING ↷

😈Worst thing you’ve ever done to your muse? :: I love whump, so there's so much. However... worst in her opinion. Not the worst injuries she's ever had, but the fact that she was filmed and broadcast to her crew later - I have a wishlist item, that I'm also writing with someone (hi @perditos), where Wren was kidnapped by someone who wanted to undermine the galaxy's trust on her, so they filmed restraining her and beating her up, and didn't get the reaction from her they were hoping to get, so they eventually strangled her, which is, in ME2 onwards era, a PTSD trigger for her because she remembers suffocating to death, so that finally made her visibly panic. She doesn't say anything about it until later, once she's mostly recovered physically, these mf-ers manage to hijack the Normandy's comm systems, and broadcast the footage to all of her crew. So she's watching the people she's supposed to command watch her panic. Was not a good time for her

I've not yet explored this in writing, but it mayyyyy become an AU verse... the basis being what if Shepard was indoctrinated instead of Saren in ME1. @anderwhohn introduced the idea to me sometime last year, iirc it's from a fic, and I've been thinking about it ever since enough so that I might expand it from a wishlist item to a full verse if I ever manage to make it work in a more generic manner than tailored to specific muses. Anyway that would. She would. Not like that. 0/10 for her. The idea being that they'd manage to unindoctrinate her at some point but only after she's killed countless of innocents, including Jenkins, possibly Kaidan, on Eden Prime, and it'd be her who shot Nihlus, maybe Saren, etc.

😂Funniest thing that’s ever happened to your muse? :: Citadel DLC??? Surely something in Citadel DLC????? Nothing like fighting your CLONE after falling through a fish tank and getting yourself and your pilot banned from half the fancy restaurants on the Citadel for life.

[selene-and-the-cold]

OF/MD Drabble - Darkness

So, I was writing a fic for OF/MD, when all of a sudden, intrusive thoughts of angsty!Ed hijacked my brain.

There is sick!Ed (no snz, but coughing and fever) and a worried Stede. It is really just a tiny snipped of angst, but it wanted out so here it is :D

Somewhere past re-union, but please be gentle if anything here is not in accordance with S2 because I haven't seen it, yet, and only live on spoilers ^^

It's very vague, so could be at any point after their reunion.

***

The darkness was everywhere.

So heavy that Edward's eyes hurt from its pressure. An all-encompassing, deep, thick black leaden fog. Engulfing him. Choking him. Its pressure spread from his eyes to his head, and chest, invisible hands closing around his neck. He tried to get up, but the darkness sat so heavy on his chest that he could not move. His limbs were weighed down by the leaden darkness and he could not breathe. Could not move. His heart was racing, thumping hard against his rib-cage, urging him to fight, and rid himself of the darkness' crushing weight. He tried to scream – perhaps some of the guys would hear him, someone, anyone!

But as soon as he opened his mouth, the darkness streamed into it like thick black smoke, coiling into his mouth and throat like an angry black snake. He writhed restlessly, trying to push the weight off him with all his might, mouth agape in a silent, choked scream no one would hear.

I'm gonna die here, Ed suddenly thought. I'm gonna fucking die and no one will know. No one was here. No one cared. He was alone. And Stede was gone.

Ed tried to call out for help again. Tried to call out for Stede, but the weight on his chest became so heavy that Ed had to cough, his body shaking violently, beads of sweat dripping down his face, as he writhed, twisted, tossed and turned, fighting the darkness with all his might.

He coughed again, his lungs burning like someone had stabbed his lungs with a thousand tiny knives, each wound bleeding and hurting with every cough. By now, he had no idea if he was standing up, or lying down, floating or falling, Everything hurt, and it was so fucking hot in here... Too hot. Too dark. Too much.

And yet, he was painfully aware that something was missing... Something was not there. Someone... Stede! Stede was not here.

Stede...

Some time ago, he'd dreamed about Stede coming back. Of soft, blond waves of hair next to him on the pillow, close enough for him to touch and rake his fingers through. Of Stede's warm body next to his. Of tender kisses and of falling asleep in his arms, head resting against Stede's chest.

“Stede...”

Dry, cracked lips, barely moving, breathing Stede's name out into the stillness of the night between rattling coughs.

Stede had just gone out to the bathroom for a few moments, but Ed's harsh, labored coughs had called him back with urgency.

“Ed! I'm here. I'm here, love!”

Stede hurried over, his dressing gown fluttering behind him. Hand outstretched, he reached the bed and clasped Edward's hand, while he tried to pull him up with the other.

“Ed, please, try to sit up for me so you can breathe.”

Suddenly, Ed's eyes were wide open, staring at Stede with anxious fury, so painfully intense that his fear burnt through the darkness of their quarters.

“Stede..?,” Edward asked, a quiet sob that rang through Stede's very core. “You... You're here? I though you were a dream... I thought you wouldn't come back...,” Ed choked out between coughs, damp hair plastered to his feverish brow, brown eyes swimming with tears.

“Yes, Edward, I'm here..” Stede clasped Ed's hand a little tighter, greedily gathering Edward's in his grasp. “I'm sorry, I just went to the bathroom for a moment.”

Stede's chest ached with the all too familiar feeling of losing the one person he wanted to spend his life with. The one person who made life worthwhile. That very ache was staring back at him out of Edward's eyes. Seeing it there, knowing that he had put it there, was agony.

Stede helped Edward sit up, who was still wrecked with harsh coughs, his entire body trembling from the effort of choking out those coughs because he was so weak from fever.

Unable to do very much else, Stede just held him and rubbed his back in soothing circles, steadying his beloved, while the savage coughing fit ran its course. It was one of the worst yet, and Stede prayed to all the deities who cared to listen that they would soon arrive at Barataria Bay, where – at least according to Jim – a former nun with special healing powers had found shelter and a new home after being expelled from her convent.

As the heavy darkness slowly let off and gave Edward's lungs free, the coughing began to subside. Stede gently tightened his arms around Ed, as if he could absorb him into his body if he'd only tried hard enough.

“There we go... you'll soon be able to breathe better, Ed. Just let it out... take it slow.. one breath after the other.”

He rocked their bodies in a gentle, soothing motion, kissing Ed's hair, and damp forehead, doing anything he could, really, to show Ed that he was here.

“Stede... I thought you were gone?,” Edward sobbed, “I... I was drowning, choking, and you weren't there...”

“I know...” the knowledge of it would forever haunt Stede. He had been too afraid to stay. Too afraid to disappoint, blind enough not to notice that leaving was the biggest disappointment he could ever have put Ed through. The worst possible mistake.

“But now I'm here and I will never leave you again, Edward. I'm sorry... This time, me leaving was just a bad dream. And it will always be never more than a bad dream because I will never leave again – unless you tell me to.”

Edward violently shook his head and buried his face so deep into Stede's chest, that Stede could feel hot tears soaking through the fabric of his nightshirt.

The two men held each other for a long moment, soaking in each other's presence, until Stede could feel Edward become heavy in his arms, as Ed's meager well of strength ran dry.

“You should lie back down and rest, my love. Here.. we'll prop you up against these pillows so you can breathe a bit more easily.”

Edward still clawed at Stede's dressing gown, unwilling to let go.

“What about you?,” Ed rasped, but the intensity, which was lacking in his voice lingered in his gaze. Glassy eyes searching Stede's, their deep, dark color gleaming with the fear of being alone.

“I'll be here. Right beside you.”

[lohstandfound]

💽💌💡

💽 What kinda music do your characters listen to?

you know i dont know if iv'e put that much thought into what the bmc characters would listen to other than jake has very eclectic playlists that are often criticised by chloe and (mainly squipped) rich, so they often hijack his party playlists

for my graphic novel series, i have an entire playlist dedicated to songs that jay would listen to

💌 Which of your fics mean the most to you and why?

oohhhh that's tough.

"she's the sweet to your savoury" is one i go back and reread a lot because i just like it so much

they'd be nearer thee / and understood means a lot to me because it is a very self-indulgent fic

and the 5 +1 royal pains fic is the longest thing i have written and i am very proud of it

my non bmc stuff: familiar was an assignment i did that my lecturer said i should submit to magazines to publish and i instead put it on ao3. and the red rabbit, the play version (because there is a fic version) and it was the first script i had written by myself that was performed with an amazing and super talented cast with a wonderful director and i loved everything about the production. i remember the auditions for the showcase it was a part of (because i was on the team who organised it), and in between auditioning for other plays myself and checking to make sure it was running smoothly i would go and hang out at the red rabbit auditions and one of my friends always seemed to be going back to read for jason because he really wanted to be jason and he did a wonderful job and i could rave about this cast so much i love that play it is so dear to me. and spores was my first sci-fi horror radio play project and i cant wait for that to be done so i can actually share it (i say, having not worked on it in months)

💡 Are there other fics or writers that are inspirational or influential to you?

"Artists are thieves, right?"- quote from one of my friends in the news article about his upcoming book release

you, definitely. i definitely stole the way i write dialogue now from if we were villains

uhhhh.... i cant really think of any others off the top of my head. someone will come up with a headcanon or something and i will integrate it into my version of the characters

[thgfanfictionlibrary]

E Rated Fics Masterlist (15)

Part 1 / Part 2 / Part 3 / Part 4 / Part 5 / Part 6 / Part 7 / Part 8 / Part 9 / Part 10 / Part 11 / Part 12 / Part 13 / Part 14 /

Created: November 18th, 2023

Last Checked:---

More Than One Night-thegirlonpeetamellark (ao3) Summary: Written for S2SL "I told myself I wasn’t going to do this. I went out tonight intending to get a girl’s number, not to bring a girl home. I was hoping to find a nice girl who I had something in common with, a girl I could get to know better. But I really want to fuck this girl. Now."

More Than Words-OfPearlsAndShoelaces (ao3) Summary: At the end of their ill-fated Victory Tour, Katniss and Peeta are forced to do the unthinkable to save their families from President Snow's wrath. Together, they struggle to cope with a different set of circumstances and hold onto themselves while rebellion simmers in the background. A Catching Fire AU. Adult content and mature themes.

Motivation-merciki (ao3) Summary: Sometimes, all we need is a tiny little bit of motivation. … An Everlark story, set at the gym.

Namaste-dispatchesfromdistrict7 (ao3) Summary: Katniss Everdeen has been feeling scattered with too many demands weighing on her mind. At the urging of a friend she decides to try a yoga class where she meets Peeta Mellark. Written for the Write-Me-A-Story Hunger Games Challenge.

Need-glintwarsgreatest (ao3) Summary: Katniss needs something from her best friend, but what that thing is may surprise him. (Ok I suck at summaries. Basically this is a smutty one shot so enjoy).

One Last Night-annieoakley1 (ao3) Summary: “We walk down the hallway. Peeta wants to stop by his room to shower off the makeup and meet me in a few minutes, but I won’t let him. I’m certain that if a door shuts between us, it will lock and I’ll have to spend the night without him. Besides, I have a shower in my room. I refuse to let go of his hand.” -Catching Fire, p. 260

One Need In the Night-msdisdain (ao3) Summary: “Classy, too,” he said, and as he leaned in further, she shivered. “I like you right here, Mockingjay,” he murmured in her ear. “You need someone to shut you up.” Katniss makes an ill-advised secret visit to a still very-hijacked Peeta.

Opened Eyes-endlessnightlock (ao3) Summary: Katniss breaks up with Gale. Why did she start dating him in the first place? And a better question is why does she care what her blue-eyed friend from class thinks?

Paperwork 2.5-oakfarmer (ao3) Summary: Year 2.5 Gale’s first visit to 12 after ‘so after’.

Peace-hutchabelle (ao3) Summary: A room mixup at Panem Resort brings two hurting people together for a vacation of healing.