#im getting my ao3 account in like a week im excited

[39tn39]

Photo!

[miffy1111]

Fish in a Birdcage

cross posted onto Ao3 (Account is Miffy_1111)

Tw! -Gross wounds, bugs in said gross wounds, violence and death Also fun fact when I was writing this, I grinded a little too hard (on this as well as a million others fics) and got a weirdly painful ganglion cyst in my wrist and it is currently stuck in a wrist brace for the next week or so :p so the end of chapter 1, the editing process and all this stuff here has been typed one handed, so I apologise for any mistakes. This was really fun to write, and I'm excited to get the second chapter out! This chapter here is basically a look into the past and why he'll be silly next chapter, Also I haven't gotten to book 7 yet so I apologise if General Lilia is ooc! Please let me know in the comments what you think, Im pretty new to writing so I'm always happy to hear what you think!

(Word Count: 3847)

1/2 Chapters

i. Damnation: condemnation to eternal punishment in hell. To be doomed to suffer in hell forever.  - do this one for the last word thing lol

The sun felt warm. Its heat soaked into Lilias's armour, making it feel rather stuffy to stand in the forest clearing. He couldn't see any reflection of himself in the lake before him, however he knew his cheeks were flushed. As a nocturnal fae, he hadn’t spent much time outside during the day, either training indoors or sleeping. 

However, due to the diurnal nature of humans, he often found himself needing to be up when the sun was. 

He pulled up his hood to shield himself and wiped the sweat off his forehead. He looked down on the human soldier below him, the cheeks of their face- left unconcealed by their metallic helmet, were also a reddish colour under the unforgiving rays of the sun.

During a patrol in the forest that further deprived him of much-needed sleep, a familiar yet unfamiliar scent caught his attention. It was heavily metallic, with undertones of bitter red wine. He followed the scent towards the mossy shores of a lake, where he saw a figure lying, body half in the water.

 Crimson leached into the lake from beneath them, the source of which was a large rather gorey-looking cut in their side. They looked to be a human soldier, a low-ranking one at that. The only armour they wore was a spangenhelm and a chainmail shirt, their dark blue aketon covering the rest of their arms. A shield bearing King Henricks emblem was half-sunk in the shallows of the lake, Lilia taking it as a sign.

Looking at the human soldier, Lilia noticed magenta scorch marks on the edges of broken chainlinks, indicating that the weapon used was likely enchanted. He also estimated by the blowflies laying eggs and chewing through the wound, that the soldier would have been here for a few hours, at least 4. Lilia knew that blowfly eggs took anywhere between 8-20 hours to mature to maggots, which the wound was devoid of.

A series of wheezy coughs snapped Lilia back to reality, as the soldier attempted to lift themself with their elbow, hand just barely clutching a broken sword.

“Just kill me. To die by the likes of you… is a better fate than this,” Their voice was hoarse, and shortly after they spoke they broke into another coughing fit, more blood dribbled from their side from the movement.

Lilia looked at the soldier, eyes narrowing as he scowled, “Silence soldier! I will not have a human such as yourself command me,” 

Lifting his boot to their head, he swiftly kicked off the helmet that covered their face, not bothering to avoid their nose. The soldier groaned in pain, the arm that lifted them gave in to cradle their seemingly-broken nose, blood trickling down their pale olive-toned skin. 

Though Lilia hated humans, he truly hadn’t aimed to further injure the soldier- he just wanted to get a better look at their face, without the barrier of the helmet. His eyes raked over their newly revealed features. 

The human soldier's gender was indiscernible, and their face was wet and speckled with dirt, with dark curly hair just barely touching their shoulders. 

Despite their nose being rather crooked due to the far-too-much force of his kick, Lilia could see its aquiline shape, different from the typical straight-pointed ones common in their comrades. Their jaw was clenched hard and they looked at him, dark eyes squinted in pain, as shaky hands attempted to lift their sword at him. 

He grabbed the sword by the handle, taking it from their hands and throwing it into the lake. The human soldier was no danger to him, this was just an example he would make. Grabbing onto the wrist that once held the sword, he hoisted them over his shoulder- ignoring their groans of pain, and walked back into the woods to return to the camp. 

The position was awkward for the both of you, the soldier was completely limp, so the tips of their boots smacked against his calves with each step, and he had to focus on his steps so that the both of your legs wouldn’t tangle together.  

Despite Lilias' disgust at the thought of having to save a human (especially one from the blonde bastard's side), he needed information, and if they survived they could be useful.

After another series of painful-sounding coughs that left little specks of blood on Lilias's armour, the soldier spoke up with a strained voice, “Where are you taking me,”

“You’ll see, try anything and I’ll leave you back there to perish,” he grunted out, eyeing the tiny red speckles that trickled down his torso. 

They went quiet.

Premonitory: A warning about something unpleasant before it happens. 

When Lilia arrived at his quadrant's temporary base, he barged into the healer's tent, curtly described the soldier's condition and why they were to live, dumped them in front of the healer and left. 

As he walked over to his tent, he looked at where the soldier had coughed on him. The splotches of blood left on his armour turned a strange almost burgundy colour, and turning as far as he could to see his back, a large patch, more purple in tone, was left there from their side.

As he tried to wipe as much of it off as possible, a sense of foreboding washed over him. It was no doubt just by looking at the state of their armour that they fell victim to something enchanted, however, there was no telling what effect such a weapon would have on them, or if they would even survive.

—

Around 4 weeks later, Lilia was called to the hospital tent, a mere blink in time for the fae. While at times he was left morbidly curious about the soldier's fate, it wasn’t something he lost sleep on. 

As he arrived he scanned over the room, ruby-red eyes searched like an owl hunting a rabbit. Only to find that they weren’t there. He looked accusingly at the now-trembling healer. 

His scowl had done all the talking for him, as the healer finally began to stutter out an explanation

“Ah-h! General Vanrouge, the human soldier, she was sent off to the dungeon in Black Scale Castle as of yesterday. They asked me to tell you to go… there for questioning,” he grew meek as he continued, irritation evident on Lilias's face.

“I see…” Lilia said calmly, confusion washing over the healer, “And the thought hadn’t come across you to tell me this, several days ago?!” his calm disposition quickly disappeared as he raised his voice, the healer quickly muttering something about him not finding out till this morning. 

Lilia sighed and shook his head, his features softening as his anger fizzled out, “Nevermind that, how was their health?”

“Ah yes! I suspect th-that they were hit with a spell, maybe corrosion magic? B-but! It hadn’t gone so far into their system that I couldn’t somewhat heal them, they were rather difficult to deal with…” he spoke with both constant stuttering and muttering, things that Lilia found rather irritating back in his youth. 

“Oh! Also, t-the nature of their illness, i-its similar to… something like, say mould for example,” The healer's shy nature crumbled away as a grim expression washed over his freckled face, “Once it's there, its roots slowly spread throughout the host. Meaning that- though it is a trace amount- there are still roots of the magic inside them. I give them a few months at best,” 

Lilia nodded, all the more reason to get the interrogation done sooner rather than later, “I understand,”

___

It took him almost 2 days to get to Black Scale Castle, with the first day spent being pestered by the Senate to receive permission and the second spent travelling without rest. Upon arriving at the castle, he was immediately sent to the dungeons. 

Looking at the soldier through the bars of their current prison, they seemed ever so slightly better than when he had last seen them. A torso covered by layers of chainmail and aketon was replaced with a hemp-cloth shirt, as were their linen pants, both several sizes too large. He could spy bandages wrapped around their shoulder and left arm, as well as around their chest. The air smelt of wet stone and medicinal herbs.

The dungeon itself was poorly lit and dank, and each cell was only made accessible through a wooden door, with a slot for food trays to slide through on the bottom. The only light let into each cell was a small barred window at the top of the door, however after looking through, Lilia could spy a rectangular (also barred) window at the top right corner of the cell.

The dungeon was practically desolate, he almost felt a sliver of empathy for the human. Almost.

Holding a torch, Lilia opened the door to the human soldier's cell and prepared for what was to come.

iii. Ephemeral: Something that lasts a short duration of time, a fleeting moment, a brief period in time. 

His eyes pierced through them, attempting to either read them with a single glare or intimidate them into submission. It was always unnervingly quiet in the dungeon, all sound almost completely sucked up by the stone walls. It should have been considered a miracle that someone hadn’t gone insane in there. 

The soldier's face remained downcast, however, he could sense their vulnerable state. Dark circles were prominent underneath their eyes, however their skin was less sickly-pale than when he last saw them.

Lilia crouched down beside them on the stone floor and lifted their chin to meet their gaze

“You will call me General Vanrouge from this moment forth. You will answer my questions with nothing but the truth, fail to do so- and the punishment will be beyond any pain you’ve ever felt. Now state your name and rank, human,” he said, pointed teeth bared.

The way the soldier looked glaring upwards at him, jaw clenched and nose crinkled in disgust, such attitude flared the faes temper. 

“I am a low-ranking soldier, I was given the name Siro,” Despite the scowl on their face, the human spoke without malice in their voice. They made themself seem small against the cold stone, and even though their stare was poisonous, they almost wanted to look submissive. 

“And what were you doing in fae territory? I’m sure even the daftest of your kind would know that that forest is strictly overseen by fae,” he asked, no lack of his prior harshness

“I was given the wrong directions to camp, and I wound up by the lake you found me at. If you want to blame anyone- please, blame my commanding officer, Lucius,” they spoke with a flat voice, and even though Lilia wished he did, he couldn’t feel any indication of them lying.

“What a fool” He replied, “Now, tell me everything you know,” This was Lilias's favourite part of the interrogation. A human soldier's pride and ego often knew no bounds, so breaking them in was a lengthy process the Lilia thoroughly enjoyed. To wipe their dreadful smirks from their faces and tear that awful look of hope from their eyes. 

The soldier, Siro, looked up at him with an unreadable expression, opening and shutting their mouth as if continually deciding not to say something- like a fish gasping for air. 

Lilia moved his hand to his weapon, a threat to hurry things along.

“I-I! Uhm,” Siro quickly cleared their throat, “I don’t believe anything I know would be of use to you. I am of the lowest rank, so I am not trusted with important information,” They blurted out. 

Siro almost looked panicked. They clearly knew what became of hostages that weren’t of any use. Lilia once again almost felt bad for them. Even though Lilia revealed in their fear, it would be a pain to find yet another human soldier

“Well then, I want what little you do know, as well as how you came to be attacked. Surely you weren’t foolish enough to go alone into the forest?” 

“I was sent on my own. Before my unit made our way back to camp, my officer pulled me aside and asked me to stay and sharpen my sword on one of the rocks. It must have been a prank, as I only realised later well after everyone left that all the swords were sharpened only yesterday. He gave me a map as well, but it must have been the wrong one as I wound up at that lake,” Siro explained with a bitter edge to their voice and a glare in their eye. One that Lilia wanted to slap clean off.

Cruel pranks like those weren’t uncommon in human armies. Hazing, he believed it was called. Lilia could only imagine the officers all giggling together, telling each other ways to make fools of their subordinates. Lilia only wished he could see the look on the officer's face as the weeks rolled by and Siro was nowhere to be seen. Another one of their pathetic soldiers gone.

“Such pranks are common in human armies, I hear. Humans truly are foolish. You would have died out there,” He replied “Now, how did you come to be injured,”

“I don’t remember. I was by the lake looking around for anyone I may have known, then next thing I knew, I was in some healer's tent with a broken nose and a chunk out of my side,” they said.

“How strange…,” Lilia said, avoiding Siro’s eyes at the mention of their nose. 

An hour went by, and nothing more than basic questions and answers were shared. He hadn’t learned much, however they were far more cooperative than other humans he had interrogated.

As he prepared to leave the cell and return to his duties, Siro spoke up, “Was that enough for you? When will I be permitted to leave,” They asked him.

“I assume till either the war finishes or you do. Perhaps if you continue to behave I might be able to send you to a prison of… better quality,” He said, looking around the dank cell to further his point, “However it is out of my control,”

They looked at him, shoulders slumped as their standard glare was replaced with a melancholic gaze, “I understand”

iii. Wasting: Causing a person or a body part to become progressively weaker and more emaciated, typically by a wasting disease

As the months passed, Lilia (much to his dismay) often found himself returning to the dungeon. The first few times it was purely for information, however as time went on he slowly became more and more curious about them as a person. However, he wasn’t sure how long he could continue saying he was just curious.

Siro, the lowly soldier, no longer had any name of their own. Their birth name was Mariam, born a girl in a place they no longer remembered. The soldiers who raided their village assumed them to be a boy, only realising after a week their mistake. Their name had already been changed to Siro, and so they were brought up as a boy.

They would never be able to return to their family, all slaughtered in a land now foreign to them. Their sister, Arev, Siro assumed was still alive, as she too was taken. Siro had told Lilia with eyes as dead as a fish how it was obvious Arev was a girl, and a beautiful one at that. He knew to read between the lines and assume that she had been taken to be some soldier's wife; a war prize. Such was one of the many things about humans that disgusted Lilia.

After they had been taken, they were banned from their language. The commanding officer Lucius, the one who played that rather cruel prank on them, was the one who taught them how to speak the common language. Lucius never had a son, so he helped raise Siro, and despite his somewhat cruel tendencies, Siro never said much on their feelings about Lucius, and Lilia never asked.

Being born a girl and raised a boy, Siro never really saw themself as either. They weren’t ashamed of what they were born as, nor were they embarrassed about what they were raised as. They were simply just a person, they had told him once.

Lilia hated how he remembered everything they told him, how he soaked up their words and near reveled in the sound of their strained voice. 

Siro the human soldier. Truly an example of how cruel fate can be. Born in a place to a peoples that weren’t seen as human enough, forever fated to being a glorified slave. They were a slave to their own race, and they would be chained in this prison for the rest of their life. Chained to him. Despite the change in scenery, they would never be free, something they never truly accepted, even through their growing weakness.

The months went on, and both him and Siro slowly became consumed. The former, his mind- as it became overrun with the thoughts of Siro, and the latter, their body. As the months passed, deep purple veins became more and more prominent across their skin, which too grew to be a sickly pale. Their eyes looked glazed over and dark circles emerged underneath despite their frequent sleeping. Their body, though already thin when they were first found, grew even more so as their muscles fizzled away. They knew they were dying, and their appetite dwindled to the point Lilia had to come by every day to force food and water down their throat. He was never soft with them, and though he would say it was due to his hatred he knew deep down that he was in denial.

As the seasons changed and the weather grew colder, so did the cell. The cold had gotten to Siro, as their hands were even more clammy and their nose became stuffy and red.

When Lilia came to visit again, a spare blanket hidden behind his back, he found them shivering in the corner. The blanket draped over their shoulders was thin, a hole torn near the middle meant that it was doing little to provide warmth. 

Silently, Lilia draped the extra blanket over them, averting his gaze from the purple roots creeping across their face. The healer said himself, they would likely only live a few months, and it was a miracle they made it past 8. Siro wouldn’t live to see the end of the week.

​​As Lilia laid in bed that night, he regretted leaving that cell. Though Siro had an extra blanket, a twinge of guilt tugged at him. What if that was the last time he ever saw them? What if they were lying on that uncomfortable straw mattress, Lilias blanket wrapped around them as they breathed their la​​st breath? He tried to shake away those thoughts, they were nothing but a pathetic human!

He wasn’t sure what he would say, to his superiors, to himself, as he snuck into their cell. The opening and shutting of the heavy wooden door didn’t stir them from their sleep as it used to, and Lilia immediately went to check their breathing. 

He kneeled down and checked everything twice over; their soft pulse, the slow rise and fall of their chest, the laboured breaths that left their nose. He let out a sigh of relief, hand going to stroke their thinning- now wavy- hair. A strange feeling sat heavy in his chest. Why was he even doing this? He must look like a fool, he thought as he smiled at their sleeping face. 

Would they want to die here? He quickly shook the thought from his mind, he could only imagine the outrage from the senate if they found out he released an enemy soldier without written consent. Even if they were sick and dying, it wouldn’t be allowed.

Siro roused from their slumber with a painful sounding cough, more of that purple mucus splattering against their hand like phlegm. The roots had taken place in their lungs not long ago, shown by their recent difficulty in breathing. They looked up at him, tired and disoriented, “Lilia, is that truly you?” 

Lilia wasn’t sure what had got into him, his hand trailed down from their dark strands to gently hold the side of their face. He merely nodded then hushed them, a tenderness he had never felt before overwhelmed him, the feeling like a tide washing over him, blocking words from his mouth. They slowly pushed themself up till they sat up before them, opening their blanket so that Lilia could find warmth in there too. 

Intimacy, his first taste in a while. He cosied up next to them, allowing them to rest their head on his shoulder. Maybe Lilia was just tired, but he was finally able to ignore his internal feelings of disgust, of hatred towards Siro.

Suddenly his arms were wrapped around them, suddenly they were playing with his hair; suddenly their lips met and they both fell completely silent. An all-consuming warmth washed over him, silencing his doubts. They weren’t slowly dying before him, they weren’t a soldier from the enemy side, and they would be able to kiss like this again. The stoney walls of the dungeon disappeared around the two of them as his tongue slipped into their mouth. They ran their fingers down black and red strands of hair, then shakily caressed his cheek. 

It was unfortunate that all good things came to an end. Their body suddenly became too weak to hold itself up, and they crashed back into their bed, ending the kiss. They coughed again, it racked through their body as purple veins in their neck began to bulge slightly. They were in pain, it was only right.

With one last strained breath, they were gone. No final words were spoken, neither did Lilia say anything else. There was no point in shedding any tears or screaming out with regret, and even though his heart cried out, Lilia merely sat, still and silent as the stone walls around him.

He would have preserved them if he could, however, there was a war, and as the Silver Owls closed in, he had to have them cremated. Lilia had tried to find their sister, Arev, however he hadn’t the time or resources to do anything beyond scour through a few official records. He knew Siro would have wanted their ashes to be spread, Great Sevens, that was one of their dying wishes. Call him selfish, but something inside him couldn’t let go of them yet. They would have to wait a few more years, he would tell himself, to at least let his grief pass.

Siro, the human soldier, forever left longing for their freedom.

End of Part 1

I hope you enjoyed! Sorry if this was straight ass, this is only my second work in this fandom lol. The second chapter might not be released for a hot minute as I'm currently both flooded with school work and! stuck wearing a wrist brace for the next week or so. Stay well and stay hydrated!

[chopprface]

dinobot brainrot post cause im so excited about this fic like DESPERATE to ramble about it its so nuts

some of these are general hcs for dinobot and bw cybertron cause i really love digging into the implied flaws of post great-war cybertron. also i like to mix in little tidbits of various continuities i know about into everything so some elements like functionism from mtmte and extra stuff from beast wars comics throughout the years may show up. ill keep them as vague as i can so no one feels lost but i cant totally promise itll be coherent..

-dinobot has a pre-beastwars name! hes deadbolt :) yes i know hes supposed to be 'dynobot' before bw but thats lame. totally different names are cooler plus it gets to be like a dramatic moment when you mention their pre bw cybertron name because you KNOW shits getting serious. -anyway pre-beastwars he wanted to settle down be a historian/archivist, but because of predacon distrust, a resurgence in functionist ideas, and a repression of actual history, he never got to see it through and in normal canon he just joins megatrons group of predacons. -HOWEVER in the au im working on he instead decides to further science (mostly for plot reasons maybe ill flesh it out more as i write.) and fuses his spark with rampage/protoform x's on colony omicron. the experiment is overseen by the imperial peace marshal of the colony, depth charge. -all seems to go well at first, but deadbolt is frequently dehumanized by the maximal scientists eventually decides to escape, causing a massacre similar to what rampage does before bw starts

-flash forward 4 years/stellar cycles, several more violent escapes including one on starbase rugby (mentioned in the show) he ends up facing trial by the tripredacus council, who decide the best course of action to deal with deadbolt is to turn him back into a protoform, put on the axalon disposed of on a different, uninhabited planet. this totally will not go wrong and WILL NOT cause problems for the maximals on the axalon later. definitely not.

anyway thats all i can share right now :3 fic coming sometime before im dead (I HAVE TO WAIT A WEEK FOR MY AO3 ACCOUNT TO BE CREATED UGUUH) im working on finalizing the first like.. chapter idk fanfiction terms ive never uploaded anything ive written onto a site lol

[arecaceae175]

hii ive been following ur pride stuff on ao3 and i was wondering if we could get some genderfluid four where the colors fight on what gender four is? for some specifics, i think blue winning the fight for a day + being v proud of herself would be cute but im not picky, ik not everyone is a fan of transfem blue.

have a good day!!

HAPPY BIRTHDAY, HAVE SOME TRANS FOUR!!!! I dug through your account to see which pronouns you usually use for the colors XD.

Four is the Link I’m least confident in writing, and I’m also not genderfluid, but I did my best! I hope you enjoy!

Here's the AO3 link. 595 words, fluff and introspection

Four: genderfluid, pronouns change daily (no pronouns until the daily pronouns are decided)

Blue: she/her

Green: he/him

Vio: they/them

Red: zae/zem/zaer/zaers/zemself

Legend: genderfluid, any/mirror (mirror pronouns means whichever pronouns the person who is referring to Legend uses, the person also uses those pronouns for Legend)

Four looked at the headbands laid out on top of the bag: blue, green, red, and violet. Four liked to use the headbands to signal to the others which pronouns they should use that day. Four got the idea after seeing Wild use their earrings for the same purpose. 

Previously, Four let people use whichever pronouns they were most comfortable with; Four was genderfluid and didn’t care too much about pronouns. After spending so much time with an accepting group of other very queer heroes, though, Four decided to get used to choosing pronouns to fit the gender feelings of the day. 

It took some effort, yes, and a lot of introspection every day. The others had to memorize which headband meant what. Four never minded if they had to ask for clarification, but they caught on pretty easily. The hardest part of the whole situation was the others learning how to use Red’s favorite set of pronouns, since no one had ever heard those before. 

Everyone was excited to learn the new set of pronouns. It made Four feel very supported and accepted, and it made a warm feeling fill Four’s body whenever the thought crossed Four’s mind. 

A perfect reason to use my pronouns today! Red supplied. 

You’ve won the pronoun battle three times this week already, Blue argued. Four’s head inclined. She was right, Four had been using Red’s choice of pronouns for most of the week. Four pushed the red headband farther away. Those pronouns didn’t feel quite right, today.

It’s because I have the best pronouns. 

No, Green argued, it’s because you bribe Vio to vote for you. 

I do not!

I mean, you do sometimes, Vio replied. I really don’t mind, though. 

Four’s mouth fell into a frown and eyes narrowed at the three remaining headbands. Today was not going to be an easy choice, Four could already tell. 

What if instead of a vote, we solve a riddle to see who gets to use their pronouns for the day, Vio suggested. 

Four felt a distinct, blue-hued groan somewhere deep inside Four’s head.  

We can’t solve a riddle from inside our own head, Green said. 

Not with that attitude, we can’t, Red said. 

Maybe, Blue’s voice rang out over the others, we choose an outfit first. Then we can decide pronouns based on the vibes.

Four nodded. That was an excellent plan. Often, it was easier to decide on affirming clothes than it was to figure out affirming pronouns. 

Four laid out all the clean outfits in their pack. Four traveled light, so there weren’t too many choices, but there was at least one thing for each of Four’s usual gender feelings.

Four’s fingers brushed over the soft fabric of the best flowy skirt in existence, and it was decided. 

Yes! Blue exclaimed. 

Four smiled to herself as she picked up the skirt, a fitted undershirt, and a tunic to tuck in. They were traveling to a town today, and Wild assured the group they wouldn’t run into any more monsters on the way. Four was skeptical, but she had a lot of practice fighting in the skirt, so she figured it would still be a safe choice. 

Four slipped the blue headband over her hair, then pulled it up and settled it in place.

“Hell yeah, a she day,” Legend said. Four jumped slightly; she had been too deep in her own mind that she hadn’t heard Legend approach. 

“I’ll glom onto your pronouns for the day, I think. Feels right,” Legend said. 

Four smiled. “Happy to share.”

[fearowkenya]

Digimon Survive Week: Day 4 - Supporting Characters

Winds of Change - Chapter 8: Winds of Change - Part Two

“Yes, you screwed up in the waterway. Yes, shit’s dire right now.” Dracmon tells Shuuji. “Yes, it’s true that everything I’ve learned from the past is screaming that we’re fucked, that Lopmon’s memories are as good as gone. But the past doesn’t dictate the future, and it certainly doesn’t take into account what you’re doing right now, or that every single thing you’ve done since the second this egg landed in your arms has been for Lopmon’s sake. The strength of that resolve could very well change his fate—just look how much it’s already changed you!”

The answers to Shuuji's questions are disheartening at best, and he feels worse than ever about what happened in the waterway. Thankfully, Dracmon is around to remind him that although he cannot change the past, he's more than capable of changing the future.

As usual, ao3 link in source, extended author's notes below!

ok yeah maybe it's a stretch to spin the @surviveweek prompt "supporting characters" into "characters that are supportive (: " rather than "secondary characters", but i had been planning on doing this before The Dracmon Chapter was split into what is now chapters 7 and 8. I couldn't pick a (canon) secondary character i was interested in enough to dedicate art or fic to, and what i'd originally been planning for this prompt could also work for one of the others. i probably could have also used this chapter for the "future" prompt later this week, but i have other ideas for that one. so here we are!

i love the scenes scattered around the game where takuma is desperately trying to play charades with kunemon. he has no idea what that little guy is saying at all, and even if the player picks an answer that takuma seems confident in, we'll never really know! i think that's great. kew!

editing this chapter was pretty quick since i'd already gotten through most of it before i decided to split the dracmon section into to parts. that said, i did spend so much time rereading it that i ended up worrying that this chapter wasn't exciting enough. you know how it is. speaking of editing, i really cannot estimate when chapter 9 will be out. it's the last one, and when i gave it a once-over earlier i spotted a lot of things that i want to fine-tune. so we'll see! thank you for your patience - i hope getting two chapters in one week makes up for it a little.

"mattie can you elaborate on dracmon's fresh and spicy mysterious backstory??" no (:

i can elaborate on why i picked dracmon for this conversation though! in part5, it really stuck out to me that dracmon was the one to pull takuma aside to be like "hey you gotta keep an eye on shuuji , somethings fucked". im pretty sure he did it TWICE! there's also a point where kaito is watching shuuji freaking out in the waterway and asks dracmon smth to the effect of "isn't there something we can do?" and dracmon being like "not really no ): ", so it seems like the entire situation was weighing on both kaito and dracmon more than they made it seem. i thought it would be nice to give dracmon the chance to talk to shuuji after it was all said and done and see for himself that he's okay now. as for kaito…? well, we'll see. as for the lore, i'd already started using dracmon to explore the effects of repeated death and regeneration on the memory of digimon in ocean wave, so it was convenient to keep using the same character. also he's my favorite.

so full disclosure i did play a character (a terriermon named nova) in a digimon ttrpg that has a bad evolution and then loses his memories. nova's memory loss was probably a touch more intentional than lopmon's potential memory loss, and his bad evo wasn't a result of something his partner did , but a choice he made for himself. it's been a lot of fun exploring how it happens for lopmon, because it's the same flavor of angst as what happened with nova, but both the context and fallout are pretty different.

lastly, i really do think that if the waterway hadn't happened, kaito's trust issues, minoru's paranoia, and saki's fear would have eventually come up anyway. it manifested as mistrust toward their partners because of what happened with lopmon, but maybe in an alternate truthful part6 where wendimon doesn't happen, we get the library back and the Horrors are unleashed upon them there instead. would've LOVED to know what kaito's were, but i dont think it's ever touched upon other than kaito showing up to the kenzoku fight like "hey what the fuck was that." i know minoru definitely had a library scene but i dont remember what it was, but he was hiding under a desk for a bit??? and then i think saki mmmmight have one in harmony and in moral but i cannot for the life of me remember what they were. i digress.

i hope you enjoyed the end of The Dracmon Interlude! thanks for reading (:

[hearteyesmcgarrett]

WIP Year in Review

Number of WIPs Begun this Year: 45 (including finished ones) that are actually more than just ideas or notes. Add like 4 that exist only in note format

Number of WIPs Finished this Year: 44! I dont post things unless im done with them lmao (I WROTE 44 FICS THIS YEAR???? HOLY SHIT)

Longest-Running WIP: again, i dont post things unless ive finished them so ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ if we count series though, i'm (theoretically) going to write more stargate kinkmeme fills, and that series is 8 works deep and was started back in July. I wanna write more anxious danny stuff too but that series was started years ago (I did add to it this year tho!)

Newest WIP: unnamed nick/monroe grimm fic inspired by a work i like. will theoretically be finished and posted eventually

Most Worked on WIP: I guess we'd have to go back to the kinkmeme series bc I finally finished whumptober earlier this month

Favorite WIP: honestly the kinkmeme has been a blast but im excited to add more to my anxious danny series. mcdanno will always have a special place in my heart

Favorite Completed Work: oh man this is tough!!! If i had to choose, I'd probably say You're the reason I dont want the world to end. it was written for the SGA server birthday bash, follows mcshep over the course of the series, and is the longest oneshot ive ever written. its different than my other works and was fun to do

WIP You're Most Excited to Finish: okay i havent even technically started it, but damn do i wanna create my Thunder Road mcshep series!!!

WIP You're Not Sure You'll Finish: will i ever write the SGA hockey AU???? your guess is as good as mine

WIP Resolution for 2024: write and finish the goddamn thunder road series. now that I'm done with whumptober maybe ill actually have the time and energy to write it.

I just wanna say a massive thank you to @spurious for tagging me in these every week even though i almost never actually participated lmao. joining the gaggle of sga writers on here has genuinely changed my life! i love you all dearly and you aggressively snapped me out of a 2.5 year writing drought. Ive had an absolute blast writing this year and i still cant believe i get to chat with folks whose work I ADORE <3 i can't wait to see what 2024 brings all of us and our ao3 accounts

[cultofsappho]

WIP WEDNESDAY

I don't have a fancy banner for wip wednesday, but I thought the bi flag would do. I don't usually do these, and the rwrb fandom rarely has these posts, but idc bc i'm very excited about the rwrb fic im working on!

I'm going back to work on my art school AU after a long break from it, with renewed energy!

Quick summary:

Alex transfers to a private art school in New York and ends up sharing a studio space with Henry, the golden boy of the school who just got back from an artist's residency in Paris. Henry is everything Alex thought he'd be by now. He already has such a sucessful career, not having even graduated yet, and Alex can't help but feel behind in comparison.

Excerpt below the cut:

[this scene takes place during a crique in thier shared Figure Drawing class.]

.

“Yes, thank you for starting us off.”

Alex gives her a winning smile. “There’s a lot of talent here, everyone did really well for the first project. I’m new here, so let me know if I’m out of left field, but it looks like everyone, myself included, might have focused too much on the torso and not enough on the limbs. We’re all a little hesitant, maybe?” 

Sarah nods “I agree, good observation. Don’t worry, we’ll have plenty of time to practice arms and legs in a few weeks. I might be able to squeeze in an extra session on that if we think we need it then.” 

Alex sees movement out of the corner of his eye. 

“Yes, Henry.” Sarah turns to him. 

“Just, on the same note,” His eyes dart to Alex then back. “Weren’t we to focus on the overall proportions this time, and not to get caught up in the fine details?” 

Alex scowls at him, he crosses his arms and looks away, back towards the drawings as if he were unaware of Henry’s tone.  

“Yes, that was the intent. But it’s also good to take stock of overall weaknesses as well, so we know how best to spend our time for the rest of the semester.” 

Alex bites his lip so he doesn’t smile. Get fucked, Mr. Perfect.

He inspects Henry’s drawing, looking for a weakness to exploit. His limbs are all on point. Elbows at the waist, shoulders just under three heads apart, accounting for the model’s lean build. 

It’s too perfect. There’s always a flaw. 

If he squints, he sees a hint of cross hatching on the edges, like Henry got bored too, and couldn’t stop himself from a little shading. 

Alex smirks and gestures to the piece next to Henry’s. “But this one- I’m sorry, I don’t know everyone’s names yet- This one is great. I can still kind of see how many times you erased and started over, whoever made this one is really focused on measuring. They have more patience than me, for sure. But the one next to it,” He gestures to Henry’s. “Is that shading? I can’t really tell.” 

Henry glares at him from across the room. Alex imagines steam coming out of his ears.

“Yes, that’s mine, I had lost track of the internal oblique muscle and used a little cross hatching on the edge to find it again.” 

Henry takes a step closer to Alex’s piece. He eyes it carefully, the corner of his lip twitching up. 

“You put a lot more emphasis on the skeleton than I did. I can almost see it peaking through.” It was a harsh dig; the model wasn’t skinny by any means. Meaning that- “I think it’s affecting the likeness. I don’t quite recognise Martin in it.”

Of course he learned the model’s name. Of fucking course.

.

.

.

I'm still working away at this, but I honestly can't tell how long this is going to end up being, so I'm hesitant to post ch 1 until I have more done!

Idk who to tag bc i dont which mutuals i have that actively work on fic... so, if you're working on something, please join and tag me in your excerpts!! or reply here so we can start this up in the fandom! the fic rec fridays have been so fun, time for wip wednesdays!!

If you made it this far tysm!!!! I'm! very! excited! (and currently working on some slutty ass pottery scenes rn tbh. just another teaser.)

Keep an eye out for this fic in the near future on my ao3: notcanoncompliant

[anawrites3]

20 Questions for Fic Writers

I got tagged by @zeroducks-2, thanks love 💕💕 Sorry it took me so long to answer -3-

How many works do you have on AO3? It's 44 (+1 unrevealed)! And 19 of that are DC fics

What’s your total A03 word count? 163,947 I need to post more on ao3, huh

What fandoms do you write for? Mostly DC rn, tho I have a few fics for COD

What are your top five fics by kudos? on this account all of those are bakudeku because I've been very deep in the fandom until last year lmao so I'm going to cheat a little :3 and list the ones from DC fandom to self-promote myself a little 😂

1. taking a break (alone, please) at 345! I'm really happy with that and quite surprised because it's the very first proper sladick fic I wrote! Dick gets hurt during a mission so Slade takes him somewhere to take care of the wound and maybe have a little fun while he's at that. The only problem is that Dick's comm gets turned on at some point.

2. unexpectedly beneficial at 289. This is surprise since it's a New Year fic and those, in my experience, never get that much kudso lmao It's also my second fic! Dick's stuck at Brucie's New Year Eve's party. Slade comes over to keep him company

3. bunny-shaped trouble at 230 kudos, the idea came from Claudia who sent me a prompt 💕 Dick gets turned into a bunny and takes the opportunity to annoy the hell out of Slade

4. persistence at 219! This was my entry for sladerobin week and for some reason I was very anxious so I'm glad its so high in the ranks Dick goes on an undercover mission, where he has to seduce the target. Slade isn't very happy about that.

5. conflict resolution at 217 kudos! It's the first part of the series and well, let's be honest, compared to the rest (that is posted here on tumblr now, im working on it to post it properly on ao3) it isn't very exciting but I still love it and I'm happy it's so high as well! King Slade Wilson offers the way to stop the war between Gotham and Defiance. He will stop the attacks if prince Richard becomes his royal consort.

Do you respond to comments? Why or why not? I always do!! Sometimes it just takes me longer (like rn oops) but I always make sure to respond to comments and show people how much I appreciate them taking the moment to share their thoughts with me 💕💕

What’s the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending? It's definitely keeping what's mine because Dick is having awful time in this one, to the point that I tagged it as hurt/no comfort because well, Dick is hurt and doesnt get any comfort. I mean, he kind of does? But it doesnt actually comfort him so yeah 😂

What’s the fic you wrote with the happiest ending? I write a lot of fluff so this is actually a very difficult question lmao but I would say it's (not) willing to share which is a short domestic fluff. And Dick has a cat so that's very happy for me haha

Do you get hate on your fic? I do not, actually! And I'm a little surprised by it because sladick and batkids ships gets hated on a lot

Do you write smut? More and more lately

Do you write crossovers? Not really right now, no

Have you ever had a fic stolen? Thankfully no or at least I dont know about it lol

Have you ever had a fic translated? Nope

Have you ever co-written a fic? Not yet but I think it would be really fun!

What‘s your all-time favourite ship? I have one of those for every fandom I'm in lmao and right now it's sladick

What’s the WIP you want to finish but doubt you ever will? Gosh, don't say that lmao! Buut *looks quickly through the list of my wips* probably the one I named "the middle of the night" which is like,,, undercover mision identity porn masquerade ball sladick story that Im very exciting about but for some reason I just keep moving it down on my list of wips sooo... yeah. Maybe cause masquerade balls need a lot of dance descriptions and I suck at that lmao

What’s your writing strengths? Writing dialogue! I like it a lot and I've been told I'm good at it :3

What’s your writing weaknesses? Actually sitting down to start writing 😂 and more complicated descriptions like fights or dances and stuff like that, I'm still working on it

Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language for a fic? I like it a lot actually but not if there's too much of it - just a few sentences are enough or just a few words thrown here and there, and there needs to be translation somewhere in the fic, in the notes or something because people should know what the characters are saying but yeah, I like how it directly shows that someone is speaking in another language instead of writing "he cursed in russian" or other stuff like that

First fandom you wrote for? *hides my face into my hands* Strawberry Shortcake probably... from when I was still a babey...

Favourite fic you’ve ever written? sun and sunflower, a little brudick story about Bruce being smitten and a coward

Tagging time! @roipecheur @wingdingery @blackbeanbao @enak-s and anyone who'd like to do it as well!

[silverflqmes]

no need for apologies i understand 🫂!! oh noo im sorry ellie do remember to take breaks from time to time and make sure to stay well rested + hydrated. i hope your test went well today 🫶🏻 and for your presentation to go well on thursday. i hope everything gets better sending lots of hugs your way

me too that i lose track of which specific fic i was reading 😭. EXACTLYY why is it 400 for a history book…? we’re just college students we are going to look away from this soon and not ever use it again.

the theme you have is so beautiful i always get excited to answer an ask since i get to go on your blog and see your theme

-🎐

thank you anon🥺🫶 the rough patch has passed thankfully, this week was testing my sanity but i made it :’) test went well, im waiting on the results! presentation was embarrassing as hell but i got 75% so its good in my book bc im uh.. not the greatest with public speaking😭 thank you for the hugs🥹❤️ sending you some in return!!

OH IVE BEEN THERE</3 literally just so many tabs open and then i lose my place and im just rapidly swiping to find where i was😭😭😭 HONESTLY ITS RIDICULOUS HOW EXPENSIVE THEY ARE AND JUST FOR LIKE ONE SEMESTER USAGE??

awww thank you🫶🫶 i always get excited to answer your asks as well<33 even if i die off at times but yeah😭 school just hella fucked me over, but on another note i’ve been trying to get my ao3 account running! so i’ve been uploading my sfkr writings there🎀

[allylikethecat]

hello!!! i missed talk shop tuesday but im assuming i can still come to chat :)

How long have you been a 1975 fan and when did you decide to become a fic writer for the fandom?

most played 1975 song of all time?

if you could choose any artist for a musical collaboration who would you want?

and lastly, just for fun what is your hottest take just in general not necessarily about the fandom?

You are ALWAYS welcome to come chat!! My inbox is ALWAYS open and I get so ridiculously excited that people even want to chat with me so THANK YOU!

I've been a fan of The 1975 for too long at this point 😂 I discovered them during the self titled era via Tumblr / Chocolate being played on the radio my senior year of high school. I thought Matty was super hot 😂 I actually still have the promotional Twitter DMs that they sent out during the ILIWYS era saved on my account because looking at them makes me laugh - wow have we come so far! (I also distinctly remember watching them on SNL the first time and the TRSMT festival performance with my college roommate and her being like whoa he is not okay) HOWEVER, I didn't get involved in the fic writing side of the Fandom until last year. I had done some lurking on AO3 over the years, but never fully committed to it. Then BFIAFL came out and holy crap did that album just like totally consume me, it also lined up with my life totally falling apart and so I dove extra head long into anything to do with the boys as a little bit of an escape / distraction a good IRL friend of mine was the one who encouraged me to actually start writing my own fic and posting it / making a fic Tumblr and now here we are 😂

Probably The City - I'm not actually entirely sure because I've been listening to this band for so flipping long that I had to listen to A PHYSICAL CD IN MY FIRST CAR and also this was like prespotify for me and I had to BUY THE SONG ON iTUNES and listen to it that way. So we're talking about me trying to pull and compile data from multiple places. I do however know that was my first favorite The 1975 song and I did listen to it on repeat obsessively for a while there.

Not to be controversial but I would KILL for that scrapped Taylor / The 1975 collab - think their voices would really complement each other as would their writing styles and George's production. I don't really enjoy a lot of the Taylor stuff that's been happening lately because as a football fan I hate Travis Kelce, and I hate how her fans treated Matty last spring and I don't want him to have to go through that again but WOW I feel like a song between them would be incredible.

Hottest take in general? Hmmm I am a wealth of hot takes... honestly my instinct was to say that I fucking hate bean sprouts they are little strings of evil but I think that's just because I got dinner with some friends tonight and I forgot to say no beansprouts in my pad thai and was just like traumatized by the pile of them on top. They all laughed at me because my hatred of bean sprouts is very well known. I'm sorry that's a very lame hot take. OH ALSO NOT ALL FUCKING HORSES CAN BE BAREFOOT AND NOT ALL HORSES SHOULD BE BAREFOOT REGARDLESS OF WHAT SOCIAL MEDIA WARRIORS SAY. I FUCKING WISH POP COULD BE BAREFOOT IT WOULD SAVE ME SO MUCH MONEY BUT ALAS HE LIKES HAVING PIECES OF STEEL NAILED TO HIS FEET EVERY FIVE WEEKS.

Thank you so much for sending this in!! Getting to chat and ramble on was so exciting!! Thank you so much! I hope you had a wonderful day and that you have the best rest of your week!

❤️Ally

[phykios]

this one is dedicated to mi amor mari @perseannabeth, who is a beautiful bird and a wonderful friend and i am v v vvvvv grateful to have crossed the airwaves with her :”)

Today Was A Fairytale [read on ao3] T, modern royalty, fun at disneyland!

She stares at him. 

He stares back. “What?”

“Really?”

“What?”

“You really think this is going to be enough?” Annabeth points at her head, the blue Yankees cap squishing her curls. 

“Of course! It’s the Clark Kent effect.” As if to underline his point, Percy slips on his fake hipster glasses, except that stupid grin of his is too bright not to draw attention. 

“That’s not a real thing.”

“Sure it is. Studies show that glasses are actually good enough to alter your appearance if someone doesn’t know you well.”

“Then why didn’t you bring a pair of glasses for me?”

“Because your hair is definitely the prettiest thing about you,” he says, automatically tugging an unruly curl which peeks out from under the brim, a gesture so practiced she almost doesn’t register it--until he blinks, dropping his hand, blushing lightly. “I mean--the most noticeable thing. You know. A hat should be fine.”

He looks away. Heat rises to her face, too. Because it’s so hot out, obviously. 

“Anyway,” he mumbles, “um. No--no one’s going to give you a second look if your hair is hidden.”

Chewing her lip, Annabeth can’t help but worry. Percy’s face is extremely well-known, possibly more than hers, and they’ve both spent the better part of three weeks with their faces plastered all over the media on their diplomatic trip. This is probably a really, really bad idea. Then, a thought occurs to her. “How about,” she says, perking up, “you give me your glasses, and I’ll give you mine.” From her backpack, she fishes out a pair of sunglasses, big and nondescript. He’ll practically be wearing a superhero mask with these.

Percy smiles again, and Annabeth thinks she might fly. “Perfect.”

Which is how Her Royal Highness Anna Elisabeth Ingrid Irene of Sweden and His Serene Highness Perseus Alexandros Ioannis of Thera play hooky from their day of boring meetings, insufferable dignitaries, and stuffy security guards, to go see the eighth wonder of the world: Disneyland Resort in California.

And how Annabeth eats her words as they make it past the security gate unchecked. “Eh?” He beams, nudging her with his elbow. “Eh?”

Rolling her eyes, she shoves him back. “Shut up.”

***

[description: a tiktok video which depicts a line at Disneyland. the op, a black girl with braids, covers her mouth and looking into the camera, turning the camera to focus on the two people behind her. one is a tall boy with black hair and sunglasses, and the other is a blonde girl with a yankees hat and glasses. both are white. video text reads: “p sure the people behind me are prince percy and princess annabeth??? um?????”. background audio is a dubstep remix of the fight theme from undertale. end ID]

***

Maybe it’s a little weird, on account of her being actual royalty and all, but Annabeth has always been interested in princesses, both as a matter of historical record (history is awesome) and in the general sense. Like millions of other people, she, too, was raised on Disney movies and tales of princesses and true love, and she was just as captivated as the rest of them. She and Percy used to watch the Disney catalogue whenever their families held state visits for each other, staying up into the small hours of the morning, sharing some popcorn and singing along. 

Luckily for Annabeth, her favorite princess is holding a meet and greet at the Royal Hall.

“Excuse me,” Percy says, approaching Princess Ariel. Well, her cast member, anyway. “Could I get a photo for my friend?”

“Of course!” she trills, her blue eyes sparkling. “It would be my pleasure.” Holding her hand out, perfectly poised and graceful in a way that would impress even Annabeth’s stodgy etiquette instructor, she smiles, warm and welcoming, pivoting to bring Annabeth in for one of those weird, semi-awkward half-hugs. “What’s your name?”

“Anna,” says Annabeth. Hey, it’s not untrue. She’s a little leery of using any of her names, but Anna is common enough. Annabeth? Not so much. Even with her glasses and hat disguise, a little paranoia is justified, she thinks.

“It’s so wonderful to meet you, Anna,” she says, cheerful, with all the grace and charm of someone who doesn’t spend hours saying the same thing over and over again to excitable, temperamental children. What a trooper, she thinks.

“Don’t you recognize a fellow princess when you see one, your highness?” Percy says, grinning that stupid, smarmy grin of his. 

Annabeth glares. Oh, he thinks he’s so damn clever. 

“Oh, of course,” says Ariel, smoothly. “How could I have thought otherwise? Your highness.” And she curtsies to Annabeth, a short dip, her hand placed delicately against her chest. “Perhaps I can introduce you to my friend Anna, princess of Arendelle?”

Still smirking, Percy takes some more pictures, trapping Annabeth into smiling for the camera. She can’t be glaring daggers in her pictures, nor can there be video evidence of her kicking him--no matter how much she wants to.

And she definitely doesn’t miss the way Ariel not-so-subtly checks Percy out, eyeing him up and down.

“You fucking asshole,” she hisses as they leave the photo area, swatting him lightly, and he giggles. 

“Sorry, sorry, I couldn’t resist.”

“Ugh, I hate you so much.”

It’s hard to stay mad at him, though she definitely tries as they enter back out into the park proper, giving him just the barest hint of a cold shoulder. 

“Aw, come on,” Percy says. “I was just teasing.”

“You shouldn’t go around tempting fate like that,” Annabeth says. “Do you want to cause another international incident?”

Percy winces, no doubt remembering the Gateway Arch incident of 2008. 

“If someone recognizes us, we don’t have Zoe or any of her team to protect us,” Annabeth goes on. “Not that I think anyone here would try to hurt us, but…” But it’s a little nerve-wracking, being on her own like this. She hasn’t been alone like this for a really long time.

Wincing, Percy rubs the back of his head. “I guess I forgot you’re a little higher profile than me. Sorry.”

She doesn’t like to think about it, but it’s true. Percy, by his nature as the younger son of a largely defunct royal house, doesn’t have quite the same number of… issues… that someone like Annabeth might have.

Deflating, she uncrosses her arms. “It’s okay.”

“I should have asked you first.”

“It’s really okay,” she says. “No harm no foul.”

“Do you want to get out of here?” he asks, entirely serious. “I can call someone up.”

She knows just how long they’ve planned this, how many favors he’s called in and policies he’s sidestepped. Backing out now would just be a waste of a day. She shakes her head. “It’s fine,” she says. “I’m just… feeling a little exposed, I guess. But, I don’t want to ruin all our plans. Let’s keep going.” She grabs his hand, squeezing a little.

“...Okay,” Percy says. “But say the word, and we’ll call it a day. Okay?”

“Okay.”

“Good.” Like he doesn’t have any other expression today, he smiles at her again.

It hits her, suddenly. He’s so much taller than she remembers. Once upon a time she used to be taller than him; now, he’s basically a whole head above her. 

It’s annoying. But also… not.

Spying something over her shoulder, his eyes light up, and he practically gasps. “Cinderella!” he points with his free hand, like a five-year old. “Come on!” And he takes off to one of the park corners, dragging Annabeth along with him. 

He has to wait in line behind a pair of twin girls, six or seven years old by the looks of it, in identical Cinderella dresses for a photo, bouncing up and down on the balls of his feet, and when it’s finally his turn, he nearly trips over himself to go up and ask for a photo. 

Cinderella agrees, and now Annabeth is relegated to the job of cameraperson. Percy slides in next to the princess, his hand on her waist, but, ever the respectful gentleman, loosely held, so the cast member can slide out of his grasp without any difficulty at all.

Taking a few shots, it does look kind of strange to have Cinderella’s beautiful, shining face, and Percy’s enormous sunglasses blocking his. “Take off your glasses?” she says, lowering her phone for a second. 

Dutifully, Percy slips them off, smiling again for the camera. 

Cinderella’s smile doesn’t falter, a credit to her professionalism, but Annabeth can see her eyes widen, just a touch.

Annabeth snaps off a few more photos, “Got ‘em!” and Percy once again gushes over the princess, thanking her for her time. Grabbing Annabeth’s hand again, he practically skips off, leading them in the direction of a nearby candy shop. 

***

me: IM SHAKING GUESS WHO I JUST TOOK A PICTURE WITH????

sis: prince percy?

me: HOW TF DID YOU KNOW

sis: its on twitter already

***

They’re walking along, Annabeth slurping up a Dole whip, when she suddenly stops in her tracks, outside of one of the many, many gift shops. “Wait up a second.”

“Hm?” Percy says, around the giant lollipop in his mouth. 

“I want to get some Mickey ears.” 

Very quickly they get lost in the sea of Disney merchandise, walking the labyrinth of Star Wars and Marvel and Pixar goods. There’s a surprising amount of black for the so-called happiest place on Earth, but things do brighten up when Annabeth finally turns a corner and finds the enormous selection of Mickey ears. It’s a wash of sparkles, flowers, bows, and occasionally characters, for children and adults alike. Annabeth eyes a pair designed like Baby Yoda, eyes wide and ears adorably huge, before she fingers a pair of white Mickey ears that have a bridal veil attached to them, contemplating its counterpart, the black ears for the groom, each ear emblazoned with a sparkling silver “Happily Ever After.”

She looks around. Where did Percy wander off to, anyway? 

Well, wherever he is, hopefully he hasn’t gotten mobbed by a horde of excitable fangirls. Given that she can’t hear any screaming--well, any unusual, non-Disneyland-relevant screaming--that’s probably a good sign. 

Running her fingers over the ear selections, she finally picks out a pair of silver sequined earrings with a shiny gold bow, a tiny, rhinestone Cinderella’s castle placed delicately in the middle. 

Yeah. This one. 

Percy finds her as she is paying for her ears, a pair of his own already on his head, red balloons inside of plastic circles. The sunglasses, she notes with a tinge of nervousness, are tucked in his shirt, and not on his face, protecting his identity. “Oh, check mine out--they light up!” he says, giddy, pressing the button on the side, not that she can tell in the brightly lit shop.

“That’s not why I was looking.”

Walking out of the store, ears firmly in her possession, she looks around again. Percy’s face is out there for the world to see, and no one is giving them a hard time. 

And her hat is really sweaty. 

Ah, fuck it.

She removes the Yankees cap, shaking out her sweaty curls, sliding the ears on in its place.

And the glasses, for good measure.

“Cinderella?” Percy asks.

“I thought you’d approve.”

Outside the shop, next to a corn dog cart, Percy pulls her aside, out of the way of a whole classroom’s worth of children, holding up a plastic plag. “So, confession.”

“Percy…” He didn’t. “We said no gifts!” They had agreed to it that morning!

“Well, see,” he says, fumbling around in the bag, pulling out a black t-shirt. “I saw this, and I thought--I thought you might like it.”

He unfolds it, and Annabeth frowns at the shirt design. 

It’s… a drawing of a man in a purple mask against a solid black background, glaring at the viewer. Circling him, in distressed, white-grey military font, are the words “BARON ZEMO,” and the logo for the show he must star in, Marvel’s The Falcon and the Winter Soldier. She doesn’t really watch superhero shows, though, and she’s pretty sure Percy doesn’t, either. Maybe he’s started this one and he really likes it? “Thanks,” she says, confusion coloring her voice despite her best efforts. 

But he doesn’t look too disappointed. “I was looking through their pride merch, and they didn’t have any stuff with the ace flag, which totally sucks, but then I thought that maybe you might like something a little more subtle? So, yeah.” He shakes it. “Ace pride!”

Oh. Oh, this boy. 

She remembers, so vividly, visiting his father’s summer home on Kalymnos, a few years ago, the summer she turned nineteen, waking up to a banging in the kitchen, noisy pots and pans making a real racket. Granted, it had been one in the afternoon, and Annabeth probably should have been awake sooner, but she had stumbled out of the guest room into the kitchen, rubbing sleep out of her eyes, to the sight of Percy wrestling with the standmixer, making bright, neon purple frosting. The night before, sometime around three or four AM, that weird, liminal hour where the shadow of night just starts to recede, the sky a sweet, soft, dusky blue, she had come out as demisexual to her best friend, saying the words aloud for the first time ever. Loopy from lack of sleep, the moment had passed without much fanfare.

But Percy, dark-circled and still yawning, had woken up early to make her a chocolate cake. By the time she had woken up, he had baked the cake, chilled it, and made two out of the three frosting colors, a beautiful, moist, dark chocolate cake which ended up being frosted with a marbled mix of purple, black, and white, all folding into each other into a kind of colorless, grey sugar. 

Here, now, in Disneyland, she throws herself at him, wrapping his arms around his neck. His arms automatically come up to circle her, hugging her tight. 

She had been worried it had been some kind of defense mechanism. A young girl with an alarmingly high profile, Annabeth had been the subject of intense scrutiny with regards to any romantic entanglements, with critics, tabloid reporters, and fans alike attempting to invent gossip-worthy relationships with every boy she ever talked to--most usually Percy. They did grow up in the public eye together, attending all kinds of events and functions together over the last fifteen or so years. And they did tweet at each other. Like, a lot. They even had their own portmanteau hashtag. But no relationship ever materialized.

She thought maybe she was just being stubborn, unwilling to play the media game. But it hadn’t been stubbornness. It wasn’t about shyness or inexperience. It was real, and it was her.

And Percy hadn’t even blinked.

“I love it,” she murmurs. “Thank you.”

“Of course,” he says, swaying her from side to side, just a little. “It was my pleasure.”

***

What’s happening: #percabeth (Entertainment • trending)

@kndrck__ STREAM CHROMATICA: um @TheraUS @SwedenRoyals i think i found your sick royals? #percabeth #disneyland

@wasabiviking: omg werent they supposed to be at some hospital opening today #percabeth

@ChampionSno brando he/him: LMAOOO NOT #PERCABETH PLAYING HOOKY LIKE IT’S ROMAN HOLIDAY

***

“Holy shit,” Percy moans, his mouth full of food. “Oh my God. Dear God in Heaven.”

Annabeth kicks his ankle under the table. “Don’t be rude.”

He swallows, eyes fluttering. “Oh my God, Annabeth. Holy shit. This is the best damn sandwich I’ve ever had in my entire life.”

“A monte cristo?”

“A deep-fried monte cristo! In sweet batter!” Taking another bite, he moans again, just this side of indecent. “Oh my God I love Americans. They are absolute culinary geniuses.”

“Better than Bistrot Chez Rémy?” They had both been to Disneyland Paris, separately, sadly, and Percy had recommended the restaurant to her with great enthusiasm for her upcoming trip. As usual, he was spot on with his food recs. 

He nods, eyes closed in rapture. “By a mile.”

“You’ll have to learn to make your own when we get back home, then.”

He jolts, straightening up, cheeks full of food. Roughly, he swallows. “You’re right! I need to take notes.” And he takes out his phone, hurriedly typing down whatever scent and flavor notes he must be able to discern. “This is definitely challah…”

Plucking another piece of chicken with her fork out of her jambalaya, Annabeth lets her attention wander a little, content to watch the passengers on the Pirates of the Caribbean ride as they float on beside them, down in the artificially constructed bayou river. 

Truth be told, she’s kind of tired. They’ve been walking around all day, and even with the brief reprieve of rides, her shoes really aren’t the kind that deal well with huge amounts of walking. She can already tell that she’s going to crash, and crash hard, whenever they get back to their hotel. You know, if their security detail doesn’t eviscerate them first. 

When Percy had first presented his idea to her, she had agreed without hesitation. They had had a long, dense schedule of public appearances planned for their excursions to the states, and the days had begun to seriously wear them out. Together, they had worked out the kinks, coming up with contingencies, negotiating things to do, all over Discord so no one else would get wind of what they were doing. Prior to this trip, she hadn’t seen him in… probably almost a year. She knows his father had been keeping him close to home for whatever reason, and Annabeth had had a handful of official functions to deal with. Their paths just never managed to cross, up until now. 

She hadn’t realized how much she had missed him. 

It’s lonely, growing up in the public eye. It’s cliche, but it’s true. And while Annabeth is afforded a metric ton of various intersecting privileges, she thinks she’d probably give it up in a heartbeat. It kind of sucks being a living, breathing tourist attraction. 

Growing up, she had her cousin Magnus, and a handful of other assorted children to play with, but she would never say that she had a best friend, or even a good friend, until she’d met Percy. Her mother and his father, famous for their mutual dislike, had put aside their differences to host some kind of charitable dinner for the disgustingly wealthy, and had trotted out their respective children in all their finery. Annabeth, being all of twelve years old, hadn’t really grasped the gravity of the event, and had gotten into an itty bitty little food fight with the then-unknown Prince Perseus, the result of an extramarital affair whom his father had so graciously decided to acknowledge and adopt. 

After that night, they became fast friends, and she decided that, if she ever left the royal life, she’d make sure to take Percy with her. He’s one of the few things that makes her life bearable. 

She thinks about it, sometimes. Renouncing her title. It wouldn’t exactly be hard. There was Magnus, just in line behind her. And it’s not like her family held any executive power anyway. They’re just fancy, historically interesting celebrities. 

Would Percy give up his, she wonders?

“Hey.”

“Hm?”

He looks at her oddly over their dessert, two vanilla-bourbon creme brulees. “You okay?”

“Yeah,” she says. “Just tired. Long day.”

“You want to call it a night?”

She frowns. “What’s left?”

“Well, we did Space Mountain, Rise of the Resistance, Haunted Mansion, Pirates of the Caribbean, a few others,” he counts off his fingers, “saw the princesses, got Mickey ears, ate at Blue Bayou… I guess all that’s left is walking around the pier, if you want.”

“Sounds like you two had a full day.”

As one, they almost leap out of their seats, Annabeth choking on her spit. “Jesus, Zoe,” Percy pants, his hand over his chest. “You nearly gave me a heart attack.”

“Oh?” says Zoe Nightshade, the head of their security detail, who had just apparently materialized out of thin air. “Funny. I could say the same about you, sir.”

Coughing, Annabeth eventually manages to get her air back. “Hey, Zoe,” she wheezes. “How was your day?”

“Eventful. Let me tell you about it in the car.”

Annabeth glances at Percy, who’s looking a little bit like a deer in headlights. Honestly, she’s surprised they even made it this far without one of their own tracking them down. Still, it looks like their game is up. 

...Or is it?

Out of the corner of her eye, she sees a large tour group, approaching on the horizon.

“Sure,” Annabeth says, getting up. Luckily, they’ve already paid, so they can just head out; they don’t need to wait for another big group of people to cross their paths. “Will you let us go to the bathroom, first?”

Zoe squints. She’s always been able to see through Annabeth’s bullshit. But Annabeth has her best, Percy-patented baby seal eyes on, perfectly innocent. Surely, Zoe wouldn’t deny them a physical need such as relieving themselves?

After a moment, she nods. “Make it quick, if you please.”

“Of course,” Annabeth says, looking over at Percy, hoping he gets the message. He stands up, slow and stiff, eyes darting between the two of them. “We’ll be right back.”

They wander through tables and chairs towards the bathroom, her eyes always on the tour group as it just starts to pass by. Reaching out, Annabeth grabs Percy’s hand, and with a turn that would make her track coach proud, sprints out of the restaurant, using the throng of people as cover. 

She thinks she hears Zoe yelling behind them, but maybe it’s just her own laughter. “Come on!” she shrieks, breathless, as Percy’s long legs keep pace with her. “To California Adventure!”

***

darthbingus said: the monarchy are fucking parasites but percabeth is pretty cute i guess :/

ladyofsandwiches reblogged and said: it’s obviously a publicity thing lmao, also prince Percy is gay???

eowynning reblogged and said: he’s dating rachel dare, right? he can’t be gay 

ladyofsandwiches reblogged and said: That was a publicity thing too obvs, and Annabeth hasn’t ever been linked to a guy. The king of thera is hardline greek orthodox, there’s no way he’d let his son come out publicly. They’re both gay and pretending to date because homophobia

lardoftheprks reblogged and said: people can be bi and ace and pan and all sorts of things you know

batgirlcock reblogged and said: can you animals leave them alone fr

***

Zoe only spots them after the ferris wheel starts moving. Sprinting over to them, they’re still a full forty feet off the ground by the time she reaches the operator. “Sorry!” she yells down to her, hands cupping her mouth. “We’ll be down in ten minutes!”

“Ananbeth!” he chokes, giggles still escaping him. 

“What?” she laughs. 

“We’re in enough trouble as it is!”

“Exactly,” she says, settling back on the ride. “You’ll probably be grounded for life.”

“Me?” he squawks, playfully offended. “What about you?”

She scoffs. “Please. I’ll just pin it all on you.”

Leaning back, he pouts, arms crossed. “Wow. I plan this amazing day, violate a few embassorial rules, and probably put both of our countries on a massive red alert, and this is the thanks I get?”

“I helped plan it, too.” But he does have a point. “Thank you,” she says. “I had a lot of fun today.”

He turns his head to her, a grin stretching across his face. “Me too.” 

His voice is so soft, so fond. They share a look, a moment, no words between them, only the silence of a true, deep companionship. They don’t need to say anything else, because they already know what the other would say. 

As one, they break away, looking back out into the California evening. 

They don’t talk much as the ferris wheel climbs higher and higher. Honestly, Annabeth is kind of impressed with how well he’s handling himself--she knows heights are a bit of a weakness of his. He grabs the edges of their gondola every once in a while as it drops a few feet, knuckles white and face a little green, but he manages to keep his dinner down, even as the ferris wheel grinds to a halt, Percy and Annabeth at the top of the world. The swing back and forth a little, hot faces against the cool evening breeze. 

And they stay there. 

And stay there. 

And… stay there. 

Annabeth checks her watch. How long have they been up here?

Percy taps his feet, a little too frantic just to be ADHD. 

Finally, there’s a burst of noise from below them, garbled and static. “Uh, yes, excuse me--” the voice says, amplified through a megaphone. “Yeah, um, it appears we are having some… uh, technical difficulties with the Pixar Pal-A-Round. Please remain calm, as we have our best technicians on it, and we are working on evacuating the ride in a calm and efficient manner.” Then the voice cuts out. 

Annabeth glances towards Percy. He has his hands in his lap, fists clenching and unclenching, over and over again. “Uh… you okay?”

“Hm? Oh, sure,” Percy says, “just fine. Peachy keen.” He squeezes his eyes shut, slowly blowing out his breath through his mouth. 

“Hey.” She reaches over, and takes one of his hands in hers, lacing their fingers together. After a long day of holding hands, somehow it still manages to surprise her, how well they fit together, how her skin tingles as she rubs her thumb against his finger. “It’s gonna be fine. We’re gonna be just fine. They’re going to get us off this ride, and then we’ll fly home and be grounded for life.”

“I thought,” he wheezes, “you’d blame it all on me?”

“As if you could come up with a plan as genius as hiding from our guard in It's A Small World.”

He nods, shakily. “Right. All you. Definitely not my idea. Everyone knows I’d have looped back to Pirates of the Caribbean.”

“Definitely.” She squeezes his hand, scooting a little closer. “Just breathe with me a little, okay?”

They breathe together, slowly and evenly. At some point, Percy takes her hand in both of his, running his thumbs over her palm, tracing her lifelines like a map. His hands are big, and warm, and it seems to calm him down a little, so she doesn’t mind all that much. 

Twilight darkens, stars twinkling against the grey, dusky sky, and still they are holding hands. Eventually, Percy relaxes, slumping against his seat.

“You good?” 

He nods. He still doesn’t let go. “Yeah. Just…” he sighs, stretching his arms up, taking Annabeth’s hand with him. “Not super looking forward to the dressing down I’m going to get.”

She winces. Annabeth’s dad is a little more flexible than Percy’s when it comes to breaches of protocol. The king of Thera is somewhat famous for his paranoia. “I hope it was worth it.”

He whips his head to her, eyes wide. “Of course it was worth it!” he says, as though the opposite were even fathomable. “You kidding? This was the best day of my life.”

“Better than your sixteenth?” His father had officially acknowledged him that day. Annabeth had spotted him in a deserted hallway with his mother, the two of them fighting off a few happy tears. She knows just how special that day was for him. 

“Not even close.” Squeezing her hand, he smiles again, that smile she knows almost better than her own by now. That smile she grew up with, a quiet oasis in a whirlwind of ancient tradition and modern media coverage. That smile is safety, familiarity. That smile was there to greet her when her mother chose to leave her family, when her uncle died without heirs, thrusting the position of heiress on her, whenever she had a rotten day or a bad grade or a lonely night, just on the other end of a phone, or down the hall, or in the kitchen. 

Whatever happens, she knows, Percy will be her best friend. Her anchor. 

Her…

She swallows. “Thank you,” she says again. “I needed this.” A day without an agenda. A day just for them. 

His eyes are dark, and soft, like the water beneath them. One hundred and fifty feet in the air in a broken ferris wheel, there’s nowhere safer she can be. “Me too.”

So she’s not really surprised at herself when she says, “I’d really like to kiss you now.”

Eyes widening, just a hair, he opens his mouth, momentarily speechless. “You--are you sure?”

She nods, maybe a little too enthusiastically.

“Cool. Uh, me too.”

“Cool.”

Neither of them move. 

“So, do--do you want to--”

Annabeth leans in, her other hand cupping his cheek, and kisses him. 

His lips are soft. His mouth tastes like vanilla and bourbon. They are trapped in a metal box, one hundred and fifty feet off the ground, about to get the punishment of their lives when they get down, and it is absolutely, utterly perfect. 

And when Annabeth pulls back, there are fireworks. 

Quite literally.

Percy’s face glows with pink and green and purple, and a little fire in his eyes that’s all him. The pops of the fireworks, loud and brassy, and muted, completely overshadowed by the pounding of her heart in her chest. 

They rest their heads against each other, breathing each other��s air, quiet and intimate, the calm before the storm that is surely coming. But that’s fine. Let it come, she thinks. She’ll be safe with Percy.

When the park technicians eventually get the ferris wheel moving again, Percy and Annabeth disembark from the gondola like nothing’s even gone wrong, waving to the crowd of people, fans, and reporters alike, who have swarmed the pier, phones and cameras held aloft in a constellation of light, before being quickly hurried away by Zoe and her crew, ushered to the end of the pier where Annabeth’s embassy’s car is waiting. 

Percy doesn’t let go of her hand once. 

***

KALYMNOS, GREECE--Prince Percy has arrived on the island for his family’s annual summer retreat, bringing his girlfriend, Princess Annabeth of Sweden, with him for the fifth year in a row, and the third as his official partner. Lifelong friends, the couple were most recently seen at Disneyland Tokyo, continuing something of a tradition for the two royals where they visit Disneyland parks across the globe. Our sources inside the castle are hinting that the family is planning something big this year. Could we see a proposal by the end of summer? Be sure to subscribe for more updates!

[andromedasstarship]

in the stars - prologue

photo credits: unknown

pairing - aaron hotchner x reader

warnings - depictions of violence, stalking, murder, angst, age gap couple, general criminal minds warnings. 18+, minors do not interact. 

summary - One of the biggest names in Hollywood, your relationship with Aaron Hotchner was kept on a strict need to know basis. When he unexpectedly ended things, you struggled moving on from a relationship barely anyone knew ever existed. Now, nearly two years later, a new unsub has taken a special interest in you. When the BAU is called in, secrets come out and Hotch and his team will have to race against the clock to save you from an untimely end. 

masterlist // read it on ao3 here

-----

You weren’t sure how much longer you could stomach this. This was the fourth woman to be murdered in your name. It was like clockwork, every two weeks a new body was discovered. Each woman eerily similar to you and in their mouths there was always a piece of paper that had the title of a movie you had been in, a different title each time. The police had no leads, no suspects, not even a sliver of DNA to try and run off of. All they had been able to do was certify you weren’t the one behind the murders. It was becoming increasingly apparent that the deaths wouldn’t be stopping any time soon and that the police weren’t even close to breaking the surface of the case.

Officer Reynolds sat across from you, when the murders began her soft gaze and gentle voice had once been a source of comfort. But now, it was just a tell that you were being called back into the police station, not because they had found the culprit, but rather another body turned up. 

“Miss L/N, did you hear me?” 

"I’m sorry, what was that?” 

“Miss, we’ve called in for a team of specialists from the FBI. They’re arriving tonight. They’re trained in-”

"Did you call in the BAU,” you quickly cut her off, eyes wide with a mix of emotions Office Reynolds couldn’t quite place. 

“Oh, yes we did. Have you, um, worked with them before?” Officer Reynolds asked, her face twisted in confusion. 

“No, no. I’ve just heard of them. Once, a very long time ago. I heard they’re really good at what they do. Which is a good thing, a really good thing. Thank you for calling them in, I appreciate it,” you were practically choking on your own words, but unable to stop, “can I leave now?” 

Officer Reynolds stared at you as if she had something to say, her confusion at your sudden change in demeanor written clear across her face. Her mouth opened as if to say something, before smashing her lips together in a tight line and nodding her head. 

“You’ll need to be back tomorrow in the morning Miss L/N, the team is going to need to speak with you directly about the case,” she said, giving you another one of those ‘comforting’ looks. 

“Of course, I’ll be here,” with that you took a deep breath to steel your nerves. You quickly grabbed your things and exited the room. In a flash you exited the building, nearly running into your car. In your haste, you failed to notice the faint clicking sound of a camera coming from the tree line. The entire drive home only one thought was on your mind. 

He was coming. 

On the other side of the country, the BAU was staring at the files being downloaded onto their tablets. They had been called in rather unexpectedly, for a case that had ‘highest priority’ according to correspondence from LAPD.

“I’m sorry to bring you all in at such an hour, but LAPD is nervous about an oncoming media nightmare,” JJ said, pointing the remote towards the screen, a photo of you popped up. No one noticed as Hotch swallowed harder at the sight of you, his knuckles turning ever so slightly white as he gripped the table. “This is Y/N L/N,” JJ continued, “over the past two months, four women who resemble her have turned up dead in LA and the surrounding area. A piece of paper with the title of a movie she’s been in has been found in each victim’s mouth as well, different titles each time. LAPD has no leads.” The photos of the four women filled the screen as well, the similarities they all held exemplified on the big screen.   

“Four women in two months, with such a clear connection? Why are we only being called in now,” Derek asked. 

“LAPD thought they’d have it under control. They’re used to big celebrities being stalked or targeted. But they’re hitting dead end after dead end, so far the dump sites have been spread out enough to avoid media attention, they’re not trying to push their luck any further,” JJ explained, pausing for a moment she lifted her head up from the tablet in front of her, “all the files should be downloaded by now, LAPD wants us there tonight, the jet is being prepared now, we’ll meet with Y/N in the morning and go from there.” 

 “Y/N won’t be there when we arrive?” Hotch interjected, hyper aware of how every agent turned to look at him. 

“No, the contact said she left pretty quickly after getting the news we were being called in, but promised to come in in the morning,” JJ replied, already moving out of her seat. With that, Hotch’s shoulders relaxed ever so slightly, a motion missed by the rest of the room. 

“We’ll debrief more on the plane. Garcia, I want you to figure out everything you can about the victims. In the morning, Emily and Reid, I want you two to talk with L/N and see if she knows anything useful. Derek and I will visit the last dump site for clues LAPD might’ve missed. Dave and JJ, I want you covering our media trail, make sure nothing gets out unless we authorize it,” Hotch ordered, his voice tighter than usual, “Y/N-, L/N’s status means it’s of utmost importance that we keep a low profile, we don’t want to send the unsub underground before we even step in the building,” he finished, internally flinching at his almost automatic response to refer to you by your first name. If anyone was curious about his mild slip up, they didn’t show it. As the agents all quickly filed out of the room, grabbing their go bags and heading to board the plane, Hotch only had one thought on his mind. 

He was coming.

-----

a/n - wow, hi anyone reading this! this is my first time ever writing fic, im nervous and excited and so happy to be sharing this with you! chapter 1 is in the works and will be much longer than the prologue! if youd like to be added to the taglist, send me a reply or ask! minors do not engage/interact, 18+ ONLY

no permission is given to copy or repost my work anywhere else. if you see this story anywhere besides my tumblr or ao3 account, it is stolen work. 

taglist: @mac99martin​ @iwaizumiee​ @kylorendrip​ 

[paintedpeeta]

hi. I'm sorry for what im about to say, but i just need to let this go somewhere, otherwise imma explode. i can't talk to most of my friends right now, and i don't wanna bother anyone.

that's hypocritical of me since im coming here to bother you... and that's what im sorry about the most, but since you answered my previous ask with the most gentle treatment ive been given in days, here's me again.

im in the fandom for almost a year now. it's still difficult for me to write for everlark, specially following canon because they mean a lot to me, and im always afraid that im doing it the wrong way. I've been working on a longfic since february and there was a time where I was SO GENUINELY PROUD AND EXCITED about how i was writing, but i can't feel that anymore.

i can't feel that with anything i write. and when i do, or at least have some hope that someone will read it... nothing. not even my friends, the ones who pressured me to post it earlier than i planned in the first place. and now i feel like i have nothing, since nobody reads my thg shit and i pretty much stopped writing for other fandoms.

as a brazilian i kinda don't have the right to expect much, bc people who read everlark in portuguese nowdays are basically extinct and im not exactly using the best plataforms... but i still do. and that's making me sick.

i had to deactivate my twitter account this week because some family stuff, and i used to post a lot of my writings there. i created a new one, but now i have lost all of the lil reach i had, and i can't find most of my mutuals. my friends still couldn't care less about my writing.

i feel like im a bad author. not because my writing sucks or because I can't build storylines. i can, and feel like i do that decently. what i mean is that... nobodys reading what i put into the world. and what's the sense in all writings, if not make others feel so comforted and welcomed by our stories as we do, as authors?

i genuinely feel like getting out of twitter for good, because being there is not nice anymore. not when i see all people that promised me they would read my fics tweeting all day about all kinds of subjects and leaving me on read on dms. not when i post drabbles and have to delete them hours later because nobody sees or interacts w it.

at the same time, i don't know how to use tumblr. and every other part of my life is falling apart.

im sorry, again. but that's what I feel right now and i guess I just wanted someone to listen and comfort me, since my two other happiness sources are fictional. ignore that if you want. please, don't answer it because you feel like it's the polite thing to do or because you feel like you have to. you don't.

- I.H.

hello, anon :)

first of all i’m sorry that you’re feeling so down, i wish there was something i could do to help you more than just replying to this ask - so please remember that my messages are always open (i won’t take offence if you’d rather communicate through my inbox to keep ur anonymity of course) if you wanted to talk a little more. you must be hurting pretty bad if you feel like you can’t talk to your friends about it :(

and second of all, please don’t feel so discouraged that you stop with your writing. i really don’t read multi-chapter fics myself (i don’t even have an AO3 account if you’d believe it or not) so i sometimes feel a little guilty that i don’t do enough to support fic writers, who give up so much of their time to give other people some enjoyment and a little bit of escape. if you’d like to share the name or link etc of your fic with me i’d be more than happy to post it on my blog if you thought that would help any.

as for your troubles with writing in your native language, i can only imagine how frustrating that would feel for you. i wonder if anyone in the fandom would be able to help in the way of translation or something in order to help you in that respect? sadly i don’t speak portuguese, so i doubt i’d be any use on this one :(

and honestly i only have twitter for personal use so i’m not any help there but is there perhaps a way to reactivate your account? i wasn’t so sure but according to google you can get a deactivated account back within 30 days, if that would be in any use for reconnecting with your followers on there.

and lastly i hope you keep the faith in the longfic you’ve been writing. it would be terribly sad for you to lose all that you’ve worked on since february. that being said, if you feel like it’s giving you so much stress and just feeling fruitless it’s also okay to take a break and step back for a little while. no one will feel disappointed and you certainly shouldn’t feel that way about yourself. tumblr is sort of a pain in the ass to use i won’t deny it, but there are some amazing people and writers on here who i’m sure would be willing to help you out.

please don’t be a stranger if you need to rant again, and i hope any of what i’ve said is at least a little bit useful for you 😊

[darkisrising]

do you have an update schedule for your fics or just whenever you feel like it? sorry trying not to be pushy but im just So Excited about all your fics and i check every day for an update for any of them!!!! youre a great writer and the queen of bobadinluke

Aw <3 thank you that's so sweet to say! I appreciate your enthusiasm so much! So.... short answer is no, there's no real schedule, just whenever I feel like. But if you want the longer, truer answer...

So it really comes down to what's going on in my life. I've got kids, so everything is written in the free time I can cobble together dealing with that hot mess scenario, first and foremost. Like, last month my kid's class had to quarantine cuz there was covid in the class. So then it was 2 weeks of virtual school and there was no free time with that. Or, like, if the toddler has a sleep regression? HA no, no writing will be done for some time. After that, the schedule goes as follows: In Other Words (or whatever The Big project is)... only if I've had enough sleep to think straight. Or haven't been drinking the night before. This is the fic I try to bring my A game to, so I only ever touch it if I trust myself to not fuck it up. I do work on it a lot, though. Like, the current chapter is 3/4ths done. I just need to have some clear-brained days to get it finished Drabbles... whenever my brain is mush from RL or not sleeping and I still have an itch to write. This is when I can only trust myself to write 100 words at a time. Also, that one time I murdered my laptop and could only write on my phone. Same goes for Tumblr prompts and ask games Sex Worker AU... if something happens to spark an idea. This story has absolutely no plan. I liken it to an ugly house that every new owner just adds a new wing to, it just keeps growing with no discernable shape or concern for aesthetics. Prison AU... probably never again. The sequel has been outsourced to a talented friend, so whenever I get to see it you get to see it, too! Exciting, no?? Meaner Than My Demons/ABO fic / other fic that has like 1 ch and is still a WIP... For sure on the back burner. I pick it up and tap some words every now and then, but it's not quite ready for anything. Probably should have held off posting it at all. MPreg Boba...really only when I'm massively depressed.

Random one shots/ a flurry of new activity... this usually means I just finished posting a chapter of something and I need to do a palate cleanse/ I'm anxious about whether or not ppl will like it enough to comment. OR I wrote something for the daily prompts at the BobaDinLuke server and it got out of control enough to be worth posting. So there you have it! That's my real, honest (probably too honest) posting schedule. I'm sorry it's not anything regular. As a reader of fic, I know how frustrating that is. I love fic writers that can bang stuff out and do it consistantly but sadly that just doesn't seem to be me. Some day I aspire to be like them. Until then the only suggestion I can really offer is for you to get an ao3 account, if you don't have one already, and subscribe to my account. That way you don't have to check every day; whenever there's a new fic/update an email will let you know about it. Thanks for writing in, anon! I truly and sincerely do appreciate how devoted you've been, and I hate that I can't give you better news.

[poisonedapples]

Domestic Life (Was Never Quite My Style)

Summary: Even with a baby Patton who refuses to go to sleep, Roman finds himself having the loveliest night with his family.

Warnings: The song “Dear Theodosia” and one “blink and you’ll miss it” mention of parental abandonment. It’s mostly adorable fluff

Pairings: Romantic Logince, parental Royality and Logicality

Word Count: 2,522

Taglist: @noodles-07 @didyouseerichohisawrich @look-ma-im-on-tv @somehow-i-got-an-account @depressed-stressed-virgil @queen-of-all-things-snuggly @ohlookanotherdumbfanboy @jamie-writes-things @adoratato @boopypasta @omgsomeonesomewhereonearth @beyondthestacks @changeling-ash @hold-our-destiny

Notes: Happy anniversary to the best boyfriend in all the land, @romansleftshoulderpad, who has been there through everything good, weird and awful. You’re amazing, and even though my Writing Machine broke and had me change my present idea four times, hopefully you’ll appreciate some fluff nonetheless.

(Also shoutout as always to my friend Cornybird on Ao3 for editing my stuff I owe you like five squishmallows)

Roman and Logan were always the couple that no one could have possibly guessed. Roman was wild and untamed; always aiming for the best of the best, striving to conquer the impossible and prove everyone who doubted him wrong.

There always seemed to be so little time for him. He wanted to write, sing, dance, act, create, and he refused to let trivial things get in the way of that. Even as a hopeless romantic who dreamed of marriage, it seemed like his running on pure adrenaline made it impossible for him to make friends, let alone a husband.

Logan wasn’t much better. He wasn’t very invested in the arts and had (arguably) more achievable goals, but he still couldn’t stand to not be the top of his class. He wanted to be idolized. He wanted a kid who felt as helpless as he once did to look at him and get hope for the future. He wanted respect, and he was determined to gain it.

But that led to him overworking himself. Logan had a habit of working late into the night to put efficiency over self care, to drop everything that could get in his way and absorb himself in his own goals. Yet just like Roman, self isolation led to loneliness, and his personal expectations made him deem himself unworthy of a partner and family, no matter how untrue that was.

On the outside, they looked like people who were too busy and in their heads to enjoy the little things. Logan passed up warm showers and movie nights to get his ideas out on paper, and Roman passed up coffee shops and strolls through the park to create bigger and better things. But for the longest time, on the inside they were lonely. And only one person could see that enough to break through.

No one expected them to get to this point. The point where they’d been happily together for four years, Logan’s engagement ring carefully placed in the same box that Roman had given it to him in on the bedside table. But it was real anyway, and Logan was fast asleep, while Roman’s brain was thinking about too many fantasy worlds for him to calm down enough to doze off. Instead, he ran his fingers through his fiancé’s hair and watched him sleep peacefully on his chest.

Roman could have spent his entire life in that position. Just him and Logan, his adorable love looking peaceful and happy as Roman protected him from the world. If he wouldn’t be risking waking him up, Roman would also be peppering kisses all over his face, but he took a mental note to do that in the morning instead. They were going on a date tomorrow after all, and those always ended in lots of kisses and cheesy flirts Logan would roll his eyes at. But Roman thought his faux annoyance was adorable, so he used pickup lines at least three times a week.

But that was tomorrow, and tonight was tonight. And nights were a child’s favorite time to break the peace.

Roman could hear babbling from the room across from them, as well as from the baby monitor next to the bed. Patton was already squealing “dada” a little bit, and Roman knew from experience that he was getting ready to cry for them. It broke his heart every time Patton cried, so he gently pushed Logan to the bed and kissed his hair. He didn’t squirm, so Roman shimmied off the bed and smiled at Logan one last time as the baby talk got a little louder. He knew the drill by now, so Roman grabbed his guitar before he left and went to Patton’s bedroom. Music was the fastest way to get the little guy back to sleep.

Roman opened the colorful door to his son’s nursery. Only a pale blue nightlight gave light to the room, revealing a crib with a babbling baby holding onto the rails. Patton still couldn’t walk, but he was getting pretty good at standing in place, so the day would come at any time now. 

Roman gave his baby a tired smile. “Hello, sunshine. What are you doing awake? Princes need their beauty sleep!”

“Dada, dada, dada!” Patton babbled, jumping as much as his tiny legs could using the spring of the crib’s mattress. Roman didn’t bother going to the crib and picking him up, though. He learned a long time ago that a rocking chair doesn’t make Patton tired anymore; he only squeals with excitement like it’s a baby rollercoaster. Roman experimented one night and played Wonderwall on his guitar as a joke when Patton refused to calm down, but it was the fastest the little guy had ever been lulled to sleep. Since then, Roman immediately picks up his guitar and lets Patton relax to that instead.

“What’s the request tonight, little buddy?” Roman asked as he sat in the rocking chair and strummed some of the strings. “Frère Jacques? Hey Soul Sister? Or do you want a song Dada really likes?”

“Dada!” Patton squealed.

“A Dada song? Excellent choice!” Roman leaned back in the chair and thought about what he may want to play. Logically he knew Patton only said dada because it was the only word he knew, but Roman liked to pretend his baby was the smartest boy in the entire world, even if his farts still scared him and he slapped his hands on every new surface he found. If he grew up to be anything like Logan, then Roman knew that he would have a bright future. “Now...what would I maybe want to play…”

Patton let go of the railing and let himself fall on his butt back to the mattress. He crawled over to his favorite stuffed frog and held onto the fur tightly, which Roman thought was objectively the cutest thing in this world. Though then again, everything Patton did was adorable. He was at the perfect age to steal the heart of everyone, and call Roman a lovestruck dad all you wanted, but his baby just blew his breath away.

“Hey, little froggy, how about we bring back an old favorite? Especially since me and Papa have been watching the Hamilfilm a whole lot!” Patton giggled in response, so Roman nodded his head. “Alright then, let’s see here…”

Roman placed his fingers on the neck of the guitar and strummed the first cord, testing out the tune. When he was satisfied, Roman strummed out the beginning notes of the song, and already Patton began to seem mesmerized by it.

“Dear Theodosia what to say to you? You have my eyes, you have your mother’s name. When you came into the world you cried and it broke my heart…” Patton shoved one of the eyes of his stuffed frog into his mouth, listening intently. When Patton was first born, all Roman did was sing this song to him. It seemed to fit so well given their situation. Logan always went on about how Patton had Roman’s eyes, even though Roman expected Logan to mention that it was obvious Patton would have some of his traits. He was half Roman after all, and Logan was hardly one for sentimentals anyway. But then again, becoming a dad had made him a lot softer than Roman could ever imagine.

“I’m dedicating every day to you, domestic life was never quite my style, when you smile…” Roman looked over at his baby. He had a little smile on his face, but Roman also guessed that was just the permanent position Patton’s face was in. He seemed like a happy baby almost all the time, give or take a few sick days and the time Patton saw a spider for the first time. “...You knock me out, I fall apart, and I thought I was so smart.”

Roman didn’t know if he was smart or not. His fiancé said that intelligence is more than book smarts and street smarts, and Roman had his strengths just like he had his flaws. But insecurity was a wild thing, and though Roman put on his best facade of greatness, he was only human, and humans have a strange perspective on self worth. Though no matter how intelligent he was, Roman had long accepted that Patton could break down any tough walls he or Logan put up. After all, it had been quite the sight to see Logan sob from happiness at holding his baby for the first time.

“You will come of age with our young nation...we’ll bleed and fight for you. We’ll make it right for you. If we lay a strong enough foundation...we’ll pass it onto you. We’ll give the world to you and you’ll blow us all away. Someday, someday…”

Roman strummed out the notes in between lyrics for longer than he had to, but it was okay when his audience was a baby who didn’t actually know the song. “Ready for one more part, buddy?” Patton didn’t respond (obviously), he only looked up at Roman with big eyes. “Good! I know it’s your favorite part.”

“I have to admit that it is mine as well.”

Roman’s strumming stopped in its tracks when he heard the familiar voice. He looked across the room to the door where his adorable fiancé stood, his hair messy and Roman’s stolen pajama shirt making him look considerably tinier. If Roman wasn’t so tired, he’d scoop Logan up and swing him around the room for being so adorable. “What are you doing awake, love?”

“I can hear you singing from the baby monitor that’s a few feet away from my face.” Roman’s cheeks flushed red, but Logan didn’t care. He walked over to Roman at the rocking chair and wrapped his arms around his shoulders, giving a kiss to the top of Roman’s head. “Did a certain little froggy decide to have a party past his bedtime?”

“He woke up, yeah. I’m trying to put him back to sleep.”

“Did you check his diaper?”

Roman blinked. “...I did not.”

Logan sighed, but he shook his head fondly at his forgetful fiancé. Roman always went to the more complicated solutions before thinking about the basics, but at least he was trying. If Patton had started to cry, Roman would have eventually realized to check those things anyway.

Logan picked up Patton from his crib and took a sniff of his diaper. He smelled clean, which was good, but putting a baby to sleep who simply didn’t want to rest was harder than having something specific to fix. Logan kept Patton in his arms as Roman strummed on his guitar again with a smile.

“I still have to finish my song, Logan. Care to join the late night party with us?”

Logan smiled. “It’s Alexander’s part, correct?”

“Don’t act like you don’t already know. You love this musical as much as I do.”

“Fair point. How about you sing to us, then?”

“Could you do me the honor of singing alongside me?” Roman asked.

Logan felt his face heat up. “...We’ll see.”

Roman didn’t push it anymore. He knew Logan didn’t like his singing voice, even if it was objectively the best thing Roman could ever possibly hear. But when Logan got some time to ease into the idea, he would eventually slide into it.

Roman started strumming again, and the song picked up once more. It was just that with Logan around, the energy of the room felt all the more alive. “Oh, Phillip you outshine the morning sun. My son. Look at my son!”

Patton smacked both his hands on Logan’s shoulder. Logan couldn’t help but laugh.

“Pride is not the word I’m looking for. There is so much more inside me now…”

Logan began to sing, and Roman almost stopped in his tracks with awe. “Oh, Phillip, you outshine the morning sun. My son.”

Patton looked up at his dad with the most adorable baby smile. At the sound of both his parents and his favorite guitar, Patton began kicking and bouncing in Logan’s arms. The song was meant to calm him down enough to sleep, but instead the little guy decided it was the perfect time of day of a dance party. The worst part was that neither Roman or Logan had the heart to argue with him.

Instead, they both began to sing together as Patton bounced and smacked his hands. “When you smile, I fall apart. And I thought I was so smart.”

The music changed a little bit, and Roman and Logan both knew what came next. It was a part that hit them both close to home, but they’d practiced that section way too many times to not be prepared. Roman took the part of Alexander first. “My father wasn’t around…”

Logan held a dancing Patton tighter. “My father wasn’t around.”

“I swear that I’ll be around for you. I’ll do whatever it takes…”

“I’ll make a million mistakes…”

Roman stood up from the rocking chair and strummed louder as he stood beside Logan. Both him and their son smiled as the two came back together for the song. “I’ll make the world safe and sound for you...will come of age with our young nation.”

Roman laid his head on Logan’s shoulder and Patton was merciful enough to stop slapping and put all his energy into bouncing up and down instead of smacking Roman in the face. “We’ll bleed and fight for you, we’ll make it right for you. If we lay a strong enough foundation...we’ll pass it onto you. We’ll give the world to you, and you’ll blow us all away. Someday, someday...yeah, you’ll blow us all away. Someday, someday…”

The two parents held the last note as Roman strummed out the ending of the song. When Roman finished with that final strum, Patton still danced until the note had become too quiet to hear. Once he stopped his bouncing, Roman set his guitar down on the floor long enough to grab Patton’s hands and make him clap. “Yay, bravo, bravo! A wonderful musician and his beautiful dancer!”

Patton squealed nonsense in response as Logan moved to steal Roman’s place at the rocking chair, being careful not to rock it in case it only riled Patton up even more. “I don’t think he’s been calmed down by your song, Roman.”

“Well…” Roman grabbed his guitar again and sat on the floor in front of the rocking chair. “That just means we have to let him dance out the energy, right? Then tomorrow, we’re absolutely recording him dancing to this. I would do it now if I wasn’t tired.”

Logan chuckled. “I will try to remind you.”

“But until then…” Roman placed his fingers back on the strings and strummed the first note. “Care for another round, my love?”

The smile Logan gave off mixed with the happiness of their baby was an image Roman swore to cherish forever. “Of course, my prince.”

When Roman began to strum, their precious baby boy started to dance once more.

[fearowkenya]

Winds of Change

In a perfect world, all it takes to make things right with Lopmon is a punch to the face and a sincere apology. In a perfect world, if the timing's just right, the worst can be avoided. In a perfect world, it's easy to make amends. But this is not a perfect world, and Shuuji has to take the good with the bad if he and Lopmon are going to come out of this mess stronger.

Chapter One: Clouds on the Horizon Shuuji's trying his best to recuperate from what happened in the waterway, but it's difficult to recover when Ryo's determined to commit a misdemeanor

ao3 link in source, extended end-of-chapter author's notes below cut!

chapter 1 of this behemoth of a fic ive been working on is finally out!!! it's taken me just over a month to get the whole thing done, and im really excited to be posting it. i hope my formatting is okay - i dont have a beta reader, so im stuck relying on my own perspective. it's not a big deal now, but as the rest of the fic is published, i can see myself getting a little worried about structure and pacing.

the driving force of this fic was my dissatisfaction with the tonal dissonance that part 6 has during truthful route. in every other route, it works GREAT. but because nothing bad really happened in truthful save for some ooh ahh scary fog, the kids' fearful reactions seem totally exaggerated, and it's such a shame! so one of the main ideas behind this fic is figuring out what would have to happen in part 5 truthful that could make all the mistrust and paranoia in part 6 actually feel warranted.

if you've read the chapter, you know what my answer is! i won't elaborate on it now, but when i post chapter 2 next week, you know i am absolutely not going to shut the fuck up about it.

the other driving force behind this fic is actually two small things rolled into one.

first: there's an easily missable conversation between ryo and shuuji during part 6 if you click around in the shopping district. it's so silly. i love it. i didn't see it during my first play of truthful, so when i found it during my current one, i damn near fell out of my chair when i clicked on the ice cream cooler. fuckin got jumpscared by ryo and shuuji's portrats popping up like a pair of bowling pins out of nowhere.

second: ryo and shuuji just don't show up at ALL during the fight against garurumon. like i know the reason they don't is because the game dev situation was probably quite dire and they had to cut stuff in order to make deadlines. it kinda sucks, but i imagine it was totally out of their control. im sure if they had the time and resources they wanted, there wouldve been an alternate version of this fight where shuuji and ryo are included, but im actually not super bothered by it because it means i get to ask the question "so what were they doing instead???" well, if you take the stupid ice cream cooler conversation into account, it implies that the reason that shuuji and ryo miss SUCH A MAJOR FIGHT is because they're too busy having their stupid competition. Unbelievable. but that's actually quite convenient for me, because that's the exact window of time where half the segments of this fic take place.

anyway, that's gonna do it for chapter 1 notes! thank you for reading this far, and i'll be back with chapter 2 next week!