#in other words: watch me try to solve this in my fanfic

[retiredficwriter]

skimming through bloodlines again for my longfic and thought of something

in fiery heart, we learn the reason why the strigoi couldn't drink sydney's blood is because she had practiced magic before, leaving residues of it in her blood. strigoi are dead, human magic is life, they don't go along. got it.

but who else couldn't drink sydney's blood? lee. who was a moroi at the time.

okay, so maybe richelle mead forgot that scene and it's a plot hole. this means that both moroi and strigoi can't drink a witches's blood. it makes sense if we consider what inez says in fiery heart, that witch magic and moroi magic contradict each other.

but then in fiery heart, adrian tastes some of sydney's blood while making out and he isn't disgusted by it.

so does that mean restored moroi can't drink a witch's blood because they were previously "dead"? even though the act of restoration is bringing them back to life?

[missbellie]

Redline, and...GO!- B.E

Synopsis: You and your ex-girlfriend are illegal car racers. Your breakup wasn't very amicable due to both of your toxicity, so you've avoided competing with each other. But apparently fate has other plans for you.

Pair: B.e×F!Reader

Words: 2,9k

Warnings: swearing, alcohol use, emotional manipulation, toxic relationship dynamics, unresolved romantic tension, betrayal, jealousy, light violence (shoving/slamming), possessiveness, criminal activity (illegal racing), angst, implied past relationship, intense arguments.

Style: Fanfic | Imagine | Headcanons

Part: part 1 ⇽ part 2 ⇽part 3 ⇽ part 4 ⇽ part 5⇽

taglist: @foreverinyourdream @jujueilish @bxllxebxtch

Things had progressed.

You were back on the road, your engine roaring the way your heart used to. Jonathan and Benny had finally stopped dancing around their feelings — now they danced around the kitchen together, tried to hide their post-kiss smiles during breakfast, and assumed no one noticed the hickey behind Jon’s ear.

And you and Billie… well, things were strangely fine. Better than fine. Civil. Occasionally warm. Full of dry teasing and intense eye contact you pretended not to notice.

But Alice...

"WHAT?!"

Benny’s voice breaks through the calm like an explosion, making you flinch. She’s sitting cross-legged on your bed, jaw on the floor, eyes wide with disbelief.

“Shhhh!” you hiss, closing the door and glancing over your shoulder like Jonathan might burst in with a lecture and a disapproving look. “Keep it down, damn it. I still don’t know how to tell Jon.”

Benny clutches the nearest pillow like it might help her process the chaos.

“What do you mean you two slept together?” she asks, like she’s trying to solve an equation that doesn’t math.

You throw your hands in the air, cheeks already burning. “I don’t know, okay? It just… happened.”

Benny blinks. Then laughs. That obnoxious, wheezy laugh she only uses when she’s too stunned to be serious. “It just happened? Y/N, this isn’t slipping on a banana peel. This is sex. With Alice.”

You groan and toss a pillow at her face. She catches it, but it muffles her next snort.

“Look, it was late. She stayed over after helping me tune the car and one thing led to another—”

“Led to another,” Benny interrupts with a smirk. “And did the other lead to a full lap around the circuit?”

You give her a deadpan look. “Are you done?”

She shrugs. “Just trying to understand how my best friend, who literally threw Billie Eilish against a car two weeks ago, is suddenly playing house with the girl she used to side-eye like a raccoon in her trash.”

You sigh and fall back on the bed.

“I didn’t plan it, Benny. I was... I don’t know, feeling weird. She was sweet. It felt good. It felt easy.”

Benny quiets. “Was it good?”

You glance at her. “Yes.”

She nods, trying to suppress another smile. “Did you talk after?”

You frown, staring at the ceiling. “A little. We’ve hung out a few times since. She’s… softer when it’s just the two of us.”

Benny raises an eyebrow. “Softer, huh?”

You glare.

“I mean it. It’s different. I think—maybe—she actually cares.”

There’s a pause.

And that’s when Benny’s smile finally fades. She leans back against the headboard, watching you carefully.

“I just want you to be careful,” she says. “Because you’ve been through enough, and Alice… she’s still Alice. We don’t know everything.”

You nod slowly, a gnawing discomfort forming in your chest that you try to ignore.

“Yeah,” you mutter. “I know.”

The sun was setting, the sky bleeding into warm oranges and deep blues as you leaned over the hood of your car, tightening a bolt with greasy fingers and half a mind.

You were alone, or at least, you thought you were.

“Hey, stranger.”

You blink and look up—Alice is leaning against the doorway with two sodas in hand and a lopsided grin on her face.

“Oh,” you mutter, trying to hide your surprise. “Hey.”

“Thought you might be thirsty,” she says, tossing you a can.

You catch it, even though your hands are stained with oil. “Thanks.”

She walks over, closer than necessary, close enough to brush her shoulder against yours as she peeks into the engine.

“You’ve been avoiding me.”

You glance at her, your face neutral. “What? No.”

“Mhm.” She sips her soda and rests her arm on your shoulder, her fingers lightly grazing the back of your neck. “You haven’t texted. You left early yesterday. And I’m pretty sure you faked sleep the other night just so I wouldn’t talk.”

You force a small laugh. “Maybe I was just... actually sleeping?”

She grins, but there’s a tightness behind it.

“Okay. I’ll pretend I believe you.” She moves closer, her hand now fully around your neck, thumb tracing slow circles at the base of your hairline. “But don’t think I haven’t noticed you pulling away.”

Your shoulders tense, but you don’t move. You don’t want to upset her, and besides, maybe you’re just overthinking. It’s Alice. You like her. Right?

“Things have just been... busy,” you say, eyes still on the car. “With races, and the bar stuff, and Billie—”

Alice’s hand tightens slightly at the mention of Billie. You feel it.

“You’re still letting her get into your head,” she says, voice soft but clipped. “She had her chance. She ruined it. You don’t owe her anything.”

You nod, unsure what else to say.

Alice suddenly leans in and presses a kiss behind your ear.

Your body freezes.

It’s not bad. It’s not wrong. But for some reason, your chest tightens instead of fluttering. Like your mind's trying to scream something your heart’s refusing to hear.

You smile, because you’re supposed to.

She rests her head against your shoulder. “I just really like being around you,” she murmurs. “You calm me down.”

You clear your throat. “That’s... nice.”

Silence.

Then, thankfully, a distraction.

Your phone buzzes on the tool bench. A message from Benny:

“Dinner at 8. Don’t be late or I’m eating your part too. 😈”

You grab the phone, almost too fast. “Benny’s calling for dinner. I should—uh, clean up.”

Alice pulls back slowly but gives you a look. “You good?”

“Yeah,” you nod too quickly. “Just tired.”

She lingers at the door, watching you for a second too long.

“Don’t disappear again,” she says, half-joking, half-threatening in that sweet way of hers. “Or I’ll come find you.”

You laugh awkwardly. “Noted.”

She blows a kiss and finally walks off, leaving you alone again.

You stare at the ground, exhale hard through your nose, and whisper to yourself,

“...What the fuck is going on with me?”

The night air was thick with gasoline, burnt rubber, and the electric buzz of a crowd ready to watch someone risk everything. The village’s favorite illegal strip was packed—cars lined up, headlights cutting through the smoke and noise. People shouted, engines roared, bets were flying left and right.

You stood by your car, helmet under your arm, face set. This was your zone. No Alice, no Billie, no drama. Just pavement and adrenaline.

Benny ran up beside you, practically vibrating with excitement.

“Three grand says you leave these bastards eating smoke.”

You smirk. “You’ve got a gambling problem.”

“I’ve got confidence,” she fires back.

Jonathan joined, clapping your shoulder. “You got this. They won’t even see you coming.”

As you climbed into the car, you stole one last glance around.

Billie was leaning against her Mustang on the far side of the crowd, arms crossed, eyes locked on you like a goddamn sniper. She looked like she’d bitten down on a cigarette and didn’t care if it lit her mouth on fire. Her friend, Nox, was beside her, watching the scene with raised brows and a knowing grin.

You turned the key, and the engine roared to life.

The world narrowed to the wheel, the hum of your tires on the cracked street, and the beat of your heart syncing with the countdown.

3... 2... 1—

You flew.

Screeching tires. Smoke. Cheers. You slid to a perfect stop, neck snapping with the force of the final turn.

The crowd erupted.

Jonathan hoisted you up in a wild hug, Benny was screaming something completely unintelligible, and you laughed, breathless and buzzed from the high.

And then—

“Aaand there she is, my star.”

You turned just in time for Alice to pull you by the collar of your jacket and kiss you.

Right in front of everyone.

Her lips were warm, and she tasted like cherry gum and heat. People around hooted, some cheered, some definitely stared.

And across the crowd, you saw her.

Billie.

Her eyes had gone blank. Her mouth a flat line. She didn’t move, not even when Nox elbowed her with a huge shit-eating grin.

“Well, damn,” Nox laughed. “Guess you really lost your touch, huh?”

Billie didn’t answer. Just kept staring.

Alice pulled back, cupping your cheek.

“You were incredible,” she said softly, as if that kiss hadn’t turned the entire crowd into an awkward sideshow. “Let’s get a drink to celebrate.”

You forced a smile, still reeling from the chaos.

“Yeah... sure.”

But as she pulled you away, your eyes lingered on Billie for just one more second. Enough to see her jaw clench. Enough to see her finally turn away, shoving Nox’s hand off her shoulder and disappearing between cars like smoke in wind.

You sat on the cold hood of your car, away from the lingering crowd, cigarette burning between your fingers even though you didn’t smoke. The adrenaline of the race had finally worn off. Now, it was just the ringing in your ears and the memory of Billie’s eyes — how unreadable they were. How blank.

Alice’s kiss still lingered like syrup on your lips. Sweet. Too sweet. Sticky and cloying.

You exhaled slowly, watching the smoke curl into the air.

You didn’t even see Billie approaching — of course, you never did until she was right there.

“I didn’t know you two were official now.”

You flinched slightly at the voice, instantly recognizable — low, rough around the edges, a little too casual.

You turned your head. Billie stood there, hands in her pockets, her expression unreadable in the dim light of the garage lamp.

You blinked. “We’re not.”

She raised a brow, stepping closer. “Funny. Looked like a declaration of love from where I was standing.”

You rolled your eyes and hopped off the hood, tossing the cigarette and stepping on it.

“It was a kiss, Billie. People kiss.”

“Oh, sure,” she said with a dry laugh. “They kiss. Especially in front of large crowds, in the middle of victory parties, when they want to prove a point.”

You crossed your arms. “What point?”

She stared at you. “You tell me.”

Silence pressed in, thick and awkward. The distant hum of voices and music felt far away.

“I didn’t do it to spite you,” you muttered eventually, voice quieter than you meant.

Billie laughed again, but there was no humor in it. “You don’t have to explain anything to me, Y/N.”

You hated the way her voice dipped, like she meant it. Like she was really done caring.

“But you’re mad.”

She shrugged. “Not my place.”

You sighed and stepped forward. “Come on, Billie. Don’t do this passive-aggressive thing—”

“I’m not doing anything,” she snapped, and her eyes suddenly flared with something hot and unfiltered. “You wanna make out with Alice in front of the whole damn town? Go ahead. You’re free. You’ve always been free.”

That last part stung. You didn’t know why.

You stood there for a moment, not saying anything. She looked at you like she wanted to fight, or maybe just wanted you to say something honest.

But you couldn’t.

So she just exhaled hard and backed away.

“I’ll see you around,” she muttered, then turned on her heel and walked off into the night.

You clenched your jaw. “You know what? I think you're jealous.”

That caught her. Her brow twitched.

You stepped forward, arms crossed. “I think you’re pissed that I’m finally starting something with someone who actually shows me something. Who doesn’t play these mind games. You always do this, Billie. You get all sulky the second I try to move on from you.”

She laughed bitterly and turned, like she was going to walk off again.

But something in your voice must’ve struck a nerve.

Because she stopped. Then slowly turned back.

She walked toward you — each step calm, slow, and full of that same restrained fire you’d always hated. Or maybe loved.

“I don’t care who you hang out with,” she said coldly, now just inches away. “But I tried to warn you. Twice. And this is the last time.”

Your heart picked up, but your pride flared stronger. “You’re toxic! She would never—”

“Oh yeah?” Billie interrupted, stepping even closer, voice suddenly quiet but sharper than glass. “Am I the toxic one?”

You flinched but didn’t move.

Then she dropped it.

“She’s the one who turned you in, Y/N.”

You blinked.

“What?” you whispered.

Billie’s eyes softened just a second too late. “That night. The cops. Your arrest. It was her. I saw her talking to them.”

You stood frozen. The air around you disappeared.

“No—no, you’re lying,” you said, voice shaking.

“I wish I was.”

Silence. You swallowed the stone in your throat. You looked at her like she’d just set fire to the only piece of ground you had left.

Then, without another word, you turned and got in your car.

“Y/N—” she called, guilt already rising, but it was too late.

Your tires screamed against the asphalt as you sped off into the night.

Billie stood there, the wind playing with her jacket as the party sounds in the distance faded. Her hands curled into fists at her sides.

“Fuck,” she muttered and kicked the nearest trash can, sending it crashing into the wall with a loud metallic bang.

Then she stood there alone in the dark — one regret heavier.

The roar of your engine did nothing to drown out the sound of Billie’s voice in your head.

“She’s the one who turned you in, Y/N.”

You gripped the wheel so hard your knuckles went white, tears blurring your vision. You blinked furiously, but it didn’t stop them from spilling.

The lights of the road stretched into painful smears, and for a second, the breath in your chest wouldn’t come.

“No… no, no, no,” you whispered, trying to convince yourself. “She wouldn’t—she wouldn’t do that to me…”

But then it all began to click — the weird disappearances, the questions she asked that she never used to, the uneasy feeling you kept brushing off. Her way of being just too sweet after you got out of jail. The guilt in her eyes she thought you never noticed.

You slammed your hand against the steering wheel, the sound of it sharp and raw.

“She sold me out.”

Your stomach turned violently. She'd touched you — kissed you — slept with you.

And the whole time, she'd known.

You practically tore the front door open and stumbled inside, your body trembling, your heart on fire. You barely noticed your knees hit the floor as your sobs finally broke through. It was too much.

You dragged yourself to your bedroom — and that’s when you saw them.

Her clothes.

Alice’s jacket on the chair. Her shirt draped over your dresser. One of her rings left by your mirror.

You stood still, the tears running silently now, soaking your cheeks as something inside you snapped.

You moved like a storm.

You grabbed her jacket first — tore it off the chair and flung it to the floor. Her shirt followed, your hands shaking violently. You opened your drawer and ripped out the few things she’d left behind: her bracelet, a worn-out hoodie, a pack of gum with a dumb inside joke still written on it.

You threw it all into the middle of the room. Rage and heartbreak mixed like gasoline.

You pulled open your bedside table and found a lighter.

Click.Click.Click.

“Y/N?!” a voice called just as the flame caught the edge of her hoodie.

Benny burst through the door, eyes wide. Jonathan behind her, frozen at the threshold.

“Y/N, what the hell—?” Benny rushed forward, batting the flame with her jacket until it died, smoke rising in the room.

You just stood there, sobbing, hands clutched to your chest as the reality of it all crushed you.

“She—she told them��” you whispered. “Alice… she told the cops… It was her…”

Jonathan stepped in quickly, pulling you away from the pile of clothes, guiding you to the edge of your bed as you collapsed onto it.

“No, no, that can’t be—” Benny started, but stopped when she saw your face. Broken. Betrayed.

“She set me up,” you cried, voice hoarse. “And I let her in. I liked her and she—she played me.”

Benny knelt beside you, wrapping her arms tightly around your waist. Jonathan sat on the other side, one hand rubbing circles on your back, the other moving the ruined clothes out of sight.

“We’re here, okay?” Benny murmured, trying not to cry herself. “I’m so sorry, babe… I’m so sorry.”

Jonathan looked at you with quiet fury behind his soft expression. “She’s not getting near you again. I swear to God.”

You just nodded against Benny’s shoulder, body heavy with grief. You didn’t have words anymore. Only pain.

i forgot to post yesterday, wtf

ANYWAY

xoxo LUV YOU

[hudsonpatootie]

Bubbling thoughts

My last post about what it would be like to date Jihan and Jibeom made my mind explode with ideas—so many that I'm trying to write something for them. But for now, I'll just share a few loose thoughts I had about what a relationship with them might be like.

Warning: In this post, I'll be referring to both of them (choose which one you want to imagine in these situations). Later, I'll write separately, prioritizing the individual personality of each one. :)

Dating these guys is like being transported into the game Stardew Valley, where you aren't the protagonist but rather the single NPC they chose as their romantic partner. So, sit back, relax, enjoy the peaceful countryside, and watch their attempts to win you over.

As boyfriends, Jihan and Jibeom would visit you almost every day. Even with their duties of taking care of Chungcheong-Do and the family business, they would always make an effort to spend time with you. They would constantly gift you natural and handmade products, which you would use to prepare meals for them in return as a way to express affection. Over time, the boys have learned your tastes: artisanal honey and jams? Yes, please! Pet snakes or companions in the bath? -10 friendship points.

Romantic dates to celebrate milestones in your relationship? YES! They are hopeless romantics, and for them, the perfect date consists of taking you on tours around Chungcheong-Do, showing you the landscapes and animals in the countryside, and taking you to visit the beer and honey productions they manage. Sometimes, they would also take you to other provinces, like Seoul, where you would enjoy urban outings—shopping, going to the movies, and spending quality time together. If you're dating Jibeom, you'll definitely want to buy clothes for him. He’ll insist he doesn’t need new clothes, and you'll insist even more that he does. As the relationship becomes more serious, they would invite you to a more intimate date—a herbal and mineral salt bath, which would later become part of your routine together.

The Kwak brothers are very transparent with you regarding their duties in Chungcheong-Do and even their involvement as members of the second generation. They explain the basics of the dynamics between generations and groups but make sure not to involve you directly in these matters. They want you to continue living a peaceful life and would never forgive themselves if the relationship with them brought you problems.

Don't be fooled—Jihan and Jibeom always try to maintain a tough facade, hiding their feelings behind smiles and confident words. But in reality, both carry deep pain from the loss of Jichang. That pain has turned into fear—they are terrified of losing another person they love. It will take a lot of conversation and understanding to break down those walls until they finally open up to you about their fears, feelings, and insecurities. When that happens, your relationship will only grow stronger, and you'll both be certain that the only thing you want is to spend the rest of your days together.

In short, dating these two is a 10/10. They are incredibly sweet—a little impulsive, as was evident during their debuts? Absolutely. But nothing that a few good conversations can't solve. Please, PTJ, bring these men back! I need more content to write about them with more coherence!

PS: Hi everyone, how are you? This was my first attempt in years at writing something. I think the last time I did this, I was 14 years old and writing BTS and MHA fanfics, but that was quite a few years ago laughs. Please forgive any spelling mistakes—I'll try to improve.

I'm also using a translator since English is not my native language, so sorry if the translation sounds a bit off. Another thing is that I struggle with structuring my text properly. Tumblr is barely used in my country—I think I've only seen about four people from here using this platform—so I'm trying to learn how to use this app better (it took me five minutes just to find where the drafts were) and how its features work to improve the structure of my posts.

I think that’s all. Thanks for reading this far:)

[youngsadlesbian]

I recently read your fanfic about yelena catching her baby sister kissing her girlfriend. I really need one of her finding out that the reader and Emma broke up, and she gets all really defensive, and in other words, really sweet. As much as yelena can be really, overly protective sometimes. In situations like this, the reader is really grateful to have a big sister like her.

HEARTBROKEN

pairing: yelena belova x sister!reader

summary: yelena is there to comfort you after your break up with emma in her unique way.

a/n: thanks for the request! I hope this catches what you wanted <3

word count: 1k

warnings: fluff & yelena being the best big sister ever.

It had been a week since you and Emma broke up, and the house had never felt quieter. Your heart ached, and every little thing seemed to remind you of her—songs on the radio, the spot on the couch where you used to sit together, even the half-empty carton of her favorite ice cream in the freezer.

Yelena, though, wasn’t her usual boisterous self either. She watched you like a hawk, clearly unsure how to handle her little sister experiencing her first heartbreak. She wanted to help but didn’t know where to start, and for someone as action-oriented as Yelena, that was maddening.

One evening, while you were curled up in bed with your favorite hoodie and a playlist of the saddest songs you could find, Yelena slipped out to the balcony and dialed a number.

“Natasha,” Yelena said the moment her sister picked up.

“Yelena? It’s late. Is everything okay?” Natasha’s voice, calm and slightly concerned, came through the line.

Yelena sighed, pacing the balcony. “No, not okay. It’s… it’s her. She and Emma broke up.”

There was a pause. “Oh no. How is she?”

Yelena groaned. “How do you think she is? She’s moping around the house like a lost puppy. She listens to sad music, doesn’t want to eat, and barely talks. It’s driving me insane. I don’t know what to do.”

“Yelena,” Natasha began softly, “you can’t fix this the way you’re used to fixing things. You can’t just fight her sadness or scare it away.”

“I know that,” Yelena snapped, then softened. “But this is my sister, Natasha. Her heart’s broken, and I feel so… useless. She keeps saying there’s something wrong with her, and I don’t know how to make her believe that’s not true.”

Natasha’s voice was warm but firm. “You’re not useless, Lena. You’re there for her, and that’s already a lot. Sometimes, all someone needs is to feel heard. Don’t try to solve it—just be there, let her talk.”

“Just… let her talk?” Yelena sounded doubtful.

“Yes. And when she does, remind her of how amazing she is. You’ve always been her fiercest protector. Be that now, but with words, not fists.”

Yelena huffed but nodded to herself. “Fine. Words. I’ll try. But if that Emma ever comes near her again—”

“Yelena,” Natasha warned, though there was a hint of amusement in her voice. “Let her heal first. Then we can decide if Emma deserves to be on your blacklist.”

Yelena snorted. “She’s already on it. Thanks, Natasha.”

“Anytime. Let me know how she’s doing, okay?”

“I will. Goodnight.”

\*/

The next morning, Yelena knocked lightly on your bedroom door before pushing it open. She found you lying on your bed, staring at the ceiling with headphones in. You didn’t even notice her at first, lost in your own world.

“Move,” Yelena said, sitting on the edge of your bed and nudging you gently.

You blinked up at her, pulling out an earbud. “What?”

“We’re talking,” she said firmly. “Sit up.”

You sighed but obeyed, sitting cross-legged on the bed. Yelena looked at you for a moment, her expression softer than usual.

“So,” she began, clearly unsure of how to start, “tell me about Emma.”

Your heart twinged at the mention of her name. “What about her?”

“Everything,” Yelena said. “What did you like about her? What made you happy?”

You hesitated, but something about Yelena’s tone made you feel safe enough to open up. “She… she made me feel seen, you know? Like I wasn’t just someone’s little sister. She always noticed the little things, like how I like my coffee or when I was having a bad day. She made me laugh, even when I didn’t want to.”

Yelena nodded, her eyes never leaving yours. “And what happened?”

You bit your lip, tears threatening to spill. “We just… grew apart, I guess. She said she needed space, and I—I don’t know. Maybe I wasn’t enough.”

“Hey,” Yelena said sharply, reaching out to grab your hand. “Don’t say that. There’s nothing wrong with you. Sometimes things just don’t work out, and it has nothing to do with you not being enough.”

“But if I was enough, she wouldn’t have left,” you whispered, the first tear sliding down your cheek.

Yelena pulled you into a hug, wrapping her arms around you tightly. “You are more than enough. She’s the one who couldn’t handle how amazing you are. That’s on her, not you.”

You sobbed into her shoulder, and for once, Yelena didn’t try to shush you or tell you to stop crying. She just held you, her hand gently rubbing your back.

After a while, when your tears had slowed, Yelena leaned back and looked at you. “You know, I’ve seen some tough things in my life, but seeing my little sister sad like this? It’s the worst. So, we’re going to get through this together. Okay?”

You sniffled and nodded. “Okay.”

Over the next few days, Yelena became your personal cheerleader. She made sure you ate your favorite meals, dragged you out of bed for walks (even if you protested), and sat with you to binge-watch ridiculous shows you loved.

One evening, while the two of you were on the couch with a bowl of popcorn, Yelena glanced at you. “Do you know why I’m so protective of you?”

You shook your head, curious.

“Because you’re the best thing in my life,” she said simply. “You’re kind, smart, and funny—and if someone doesn’t see that, they don’t deserve you.”

Tears welled up in your eyes again, but this time they were from gratitude, not sadness. “Thanks, Lena.”

“Anytime,” she said, tossing a piece of popcorn at you to lighten the mood. “But don’t tell Natasha I got all mushy. She’ll never let me live it down.”

You laughed, and for the first time in days, it felt genuine.

As you leaned into Yelena’s side, you realized that while heartbreak hurt, having a sister like her made healing just a little bit easier.

[iloveladybuglucy]

a second chance🌺

ive had an idea for a new bf for Debbie floating around in my head for a hot min lol. don't get me wrong i love Paul, but i wanted to try my hand at creating my own oc. he appears in my Indomitable fanfic, but not till later on so im purposely leaving out major spoilers ^^

Left: Viltrumite appearance (early 30s) Right: Earth citizen appearance (early 50s)

Fidel, Last Son of Viltrum

Name meaning: Loyal

Gender: Male

Species: Viltrumite

Age: Early 50s 

Partner(s): Debbie (girlfriend)

Kid(s): Mark Grayson (step-son), Oliver Grayson (step-son(?))

Voice Claim: Laz Alonso / MM from The Boys

Parent(s):

Father: Lucan

Lucan was deeply ambitious and saw the birth of Fidel as a chance to create the “perfect heir”: loyal, powerful, and mentally sharp.

Their relationship was distant, Lucan treated Fidel more as a legacy and weapon than a son.

Mother: Sofía [OC]

A brilliant Viltrumite geneticist working in a now-erased division of the Empire, focused on solving Viltrum’s infertility crisis post-plague.

Fidel’s birth was a scientific miracle, a last-ditch genetic effort by Sofía to naturally conceive with any willing viltrumite using a new gene therapy.

She succeeded, but the process severely weakened her, dying during Fidel’s birth. Thragg covered it up, not wanting it known that their “greatest genetic hope” had come at the cost of its creator’s life.

Personality:

Quiet, heavily guarded, and always watching, Fidel is a man of very few words. He rarely yells or swears, preferring to use physical intimidation (ie: staring, posture, etc) to scare his foes. After assimilating into Earth's culture some, Fidel decides to not rely on his Viltrumite powers very much, if at all; Cecilia offers him a spot on the Guard but he declines, not wishing to inflict any more pain onto others. After getting involved w Debbie (and by extent, meeting the boys), he becomes fiercely protective and watchful over all of them.

Fidel often people-watches and notices little quirks of those around him, which much later evolves into his albeit distant love language of gift-giving and remembering small details such as someone's favorite coffee. After leaving his past life behind, he flees to the closest nearby planet, Earth, and decides to live a quiet life as a florist in Chicago. He finds the arts especially fascinating, one of his favorite activities being attending local galleries and analysing each piece in an attempt to get inside the heads of the artists. Fidel has adopted a more colorful, artsy lifestyle and has gotten a sleeve tattoo of his favorite flowers.

[0vereasy]

Life’s Creation and Love’s Manifestation (Dr ratio x reader)- Chapter 4: Late Appraisal

Summary: Your promotion as one of the heads of the Security Department at Herta’s Station was full of many headaches, one of the biggest being a visiting scholar from the Intelligentsia Guild, and delegate of the IPC, Dr. Ratio.

When you were forced to team up with him to solve several crises emerging at the Station, how will your tense relationship change? And what exactly is the Doctor hiding?

Taglist: @96jnie @boomie-123 @a2tral @ukiyo-ikigai @poemzcheng @kpopmenace143 @tseleven @rains-mae @comet-kun @thatanimewriter @lowlucifer @snailsposts @earthtooz @delightfuldragoncollection @soobinsgirlfriend @lvfel

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Masterlist

A/N: You can probably tell I’m pretty tired by the writing + shorter chapter, but I wanted to get something out. The original draft was longer but I wasn’t happy with the later half, so I thought I would just for with a smaller chapter this time and keep working at the later half for a better finished produce. This mainly serves as a transitional chapter anyway, with more action expected in the next one.

You know that stereotype where fanfic authors literally go through the craziest shit when they’re writing? Well the last few weeks I won my first trial as a law student, got a few good resolution for other clients all at once, ans started getting closer with my crush. So… I’ve been pretty busy as you can see lol. I have a term break in a few weeks, which is likely when the next chapter will come out, and where I will try to pre-write another chapter or two. Thank you all for being patient with the delay!

Chapter 4: Late Appraisal (3.8k+ words)

“I just don’t understand how this even happened!” you watched the short white-haired man pace around Herta’s office, his forehead crinkled in concentration and mouth twisted into a worried frown. You felt your head pulse with each of his footsteps, thumping in beat with the heavy taps of his feet on the tile floor, the ache getting worse with each motion he made. Aeons, you wish they never found you napping in the Seclusion Zone. At least then you could’ve dealt with your hangover in peace and quiet, “How could multiple researchers and a Herta puppet all go missing in one afternoon? Especially with our upgraded security! It just makes no sense.”

“If you let me go look at the security system, I could tell you,” you deadpanned, eyes trailing over to the office door briefly, as if contemplating some way to escape, before flickering back to your boss, “I don’t even get why you called me here, aren’t we wasting time with this meeting when we could be trying to fix things?”

“Wasting time?” Arlan rebutted, stopping his pacing and crossing his arms over his chest. His eyes narrowed as he looked at you, giving you little hope of making your escape from the office, “You know what’s a waste of time? Trying to track you down just to find out you were passed out drunk in the Seclusion Zone! Do you know how much time we wasted just trying to find you?”

“It was literally my day off, Arlan,” you huffed in reply, mirroring his stance by crossing your own arms over your chest, “I don’t have to tell you where I am all the time. Not anymore at least.” You let the implication of the words hang in the air, something that didn’t go over well with your usually mellow boss, who seemed to be getting angrier by the minute. But hey, if he was gonna push your buttons, you weren’t just gonna sit there and take it. 

“We’re in an emergency, Y/N!” he practically shouted at you, “It doesn’t matter if it's your day off! What would’ve you done if it was your day off when the Legion attacked? Stayed in your room and brushed it off?” You felt your body stiffen at his words, arms moving from their crossed state to hang loosely at your sides. You hated this; when you argued, when he used his knowledge of you and what would set you off for his own advantage. It was almost downright cruel. 

“Don’t talk about the Legion attack,” your reply was quick, emotionless as if you were trying to avoid thinking of it yourself, “You know that’s different. A lot different.” At this point, you were willing to run out of the Herta’s Office, meeting be damned. The ache in your head paused for a moment replaced by a dull pain in your chest, mind swirling with thoughts you’d rather forget. You were almost afraid of how you appeared to your boss right now. 

You watched Arlan’s eyes for the shift in emotion, hoping, praying that he was able to see where you were coming from. You saw it for a moment, like a flicker of hope burning within his purple orbs, before he blinked, sending the sympathy away from wherever it came from, “Is it though? For all we know, all of those researchers are dead! Adler could be dead!” You clenched your fist at the mention of the boy, the pounding in your head seeming to grow again. 

“I get it!” you exclaimed, throwing your arms in the air in frustration, “Which is why I wanna look at the security system to see how this happened! But instead were here arguing about stupid shit that doesn’t matter right now!” You watched as he began to pace around Herta’s office again, Herta’s holographic image of herself staring at the both of you, along with the other genius society portraits, as if they all were looking down on this conversation too. You couldn’t blame them. 

“You know why were having this conversation,” Arlan was quieter now, but still stern, “We needed you, and you there was no way to contact you!” He let out a shaky sigh before talking again, “We even started to think you were taken too!” You took a deep breath, attempting to let the anger inside of you simmer down at the genuine tone of his voice. 

“I already know that,” you sighed, “ Screwllum told me it all when he came to wake me up,” you raised an eyebrow, “You should’ve asked him sooner, I mean,” you tugged on your button-down shirt, holding back a wince at how the sudden action made your head pound harder, “You already know our relationship. If anyone knew where I was, it would be him” You released the shirt, begrudgingly moving a hand to hold your head now, unable to pretend that you didn’t feel like shit any longer. Arlan looked at you with an expression you couldn’t quite read; disgust? Pity? You’d honestly rather not know. 

“How much did you drink yesterday?” Arlan asked you, pausing his pacing again to change the subject, his expression still holding anger, but voice quiet, as if he was preparing to hear bad news. You thought about putting up a fuss for a moment, but sighed, preparing yourself to relent on this point, as if the alcohol was holding you back from hiding the extent of your poor state. 

“A bottle of wine,” you said simply, crossing your arms across your chest again. You almost looked stupid, standing in the office in your sweatpants and Screwllum’s shirt, confessing your problems, while Arlan stared back at you in proper uniform, leaving the power imbalance between you two evident visually and audibly,  “And a bit of Vodka,” you left the part about the vodka being in your water bottle unspoken, not prepared to deal his rant on that topic that the two of you had gone through hundreds of times before, though the pitying look on his face told you that he already knew.

“You really have to stop this,” Arlan said, voice losing the anger now, holding nothing but pity. Honestly, you preferred him angry. When Arlan became sentimental and looked at you like you were a lost cause or some sort of fuck up, for some reason nothing in the world felt worse. You didn’t know what it was; the way his lips curved into a frown like no other he ever displayed, or how his big eyes became downturned, a flicker of pain etched onto them and the rest of his features, “You can’t keep doing this to yourself…”

“I don’t want to talk about this,” you stared into his pitying eyes, hand from your head moving back to your side as you forced both your features and stance into neutrality as if that would fight off the emotions that threatened to spill from you.

“You don’t have a choice,” he said firmly, though not unkindly, “You know what I think about your drinking… what Asta thinks,” he let that name hang in the air for a moment, sending a shiver down your spine that made you wince, an action that didn’t go unnoticed by your boss. Arlan sighed, the sternness from before fading away into his usual kind demeanour, “You know I can’t control what you do; you’re an adult. But when your drinking gets in the way of your job; when you pass out somewhere where we can’t find you when we need you, thats when it becomes an issue.”

“Arlan,” you spoke his name, whether in warning for him to stop, or in frustration at the change in track of conversation, you couldn’t say.

“You know the Station is vulnerable after the attack… you know it better than anyone,” he said softly, “So we need you to be at 100% all the time… I know I already extended your hours after the whole incident from a few days ago,” you gritted your teeth at the previous punishment you had received due to your actions on the night that the stupid alcaster face bastard arrived, “but I don’t think that’s enough for what we need from you right now.”

“What are you suggesting?” you huffed, tapping a finger against your thigh impatiently. It clearly wasn’t the first time you received punishment and definitely wouldn’t be the last. At least that was something familiar in your life, you mused - at least something in your life could follow a steady routine. 

“... You can’t drink any alcohol for the rest of the month,” he said firmly, quickly speaking again when he saw you open your mouth in protest, “Okay, maybe not the month… but at least until we get the researchers back and solve the confidence issues… I need you sober right now, Y/N.”

“You know its not that easy to just… stop,” you muttered, eyes moving to look at your feet. Even now, early in the morning, probably a bit over 12 hours from your last drink, you felt jittery, like you needed something to quell your nerves. Without the alcohol, and even with the pounding head, things were too… vivid, real. It was overwhelming to experience the sensations in the world how they were meant to be seen without the dull drag of a foggy blanket taking over your mind. How were you supposed to go a few days like this? 

“I’m sorry,” he said softly, catching your glance as you looked back at him, “I don’t have a choice right now… let's talk more later, go, try to figure out why the security system went down last night.”

You opened your mouth, as if to respond, but allowed it to close again, turning your back to the man, “Whatever… talk to you later… Brother Arlan,” you left Herta’s office before he could respond to your use of his common teasing nickname around the station, not being in the mood to deal with another yelling match today. You unceremoniously slam the door behind you before you practically drag your body towards the elevator. Around you, you could hear the panicked gossip of various researchers, a sound that did nothing to calm the pounded headache that continued to make every movement a hassle. Part of you thought about talking to them - telling them that everything was under control. 

The other part of you recognized that you probably looked like a hot mess right now, and didn’t bother. They already didn’t trust you anyway - you weren’t stupid. If anything, approaching them would probably make things worse than it already was. So, you dragged your body down the stairs, onto the main floor of the master control zone and to the elevator, fully intent on not acknowledging anyone’s existence. 

It was only the sniffles of one specific person that made you do a double-take before you could press the button to call the elevator. Wen Shiling was a few feet behind you, trying to hide her sobs in her sleeve, but failing to do so, her small body physically shaking, evident even from your distance away from her. It was times like these when you wondered how children were even allowed to be researchers on this Station in the first place - it made you wonder how they could handle the stress that even you struggled to deal with. You paused, mind flickering between Wen Shiling and the elevator, sighing when you ultimately decided on the former, trudging your quiet body towards hers.

“Wen Shiling?” you spoke softly, bending down to be closer to her height, the action paining your head. Honestly, with your hangover and usual tone of conversation, you really had no idea how to approach comforting her… or anyone really, “What’s wrong sweetie, are you okay?” you hesitated before reaching a hand out, touching her gently on the shoulder. Her eyes seemed to water as she took in your form, a long sob escaping her lips. She looked from your hand to you, as if contemplated whether she wanted to move away, though she kept herself firmly planted in place. 

“No, I’m mad!” she cried, wiping her teary eyes on her sleeve. She offered you know no other words, too focused on stifling her sobs, which were still obnoxiously loud. You resisted the urge to cover your ears to block out the noise despite her cries doing nothing to soothe your headache. You gently rubbed your hand up and down her back, hoping that it offered some form of comfort to the girl. 

Though she wasn’t clear about the source of her anger, it was clear enough to guess, “You don’t have to worry about Adler, we’ll definitely bring him back soon.” Of course you left out the part where you had no idea where the little boy was or if he was even alive… but you really didn’t want to get into discussing the philosophy of life and death with a eight year old. Your mind flickered to Adler’s stupid book you had borrowed, the one you hadn’t cracked open since the night your… enjoyable evening with Screwllum was interrupted by the damned doctor you had been forced to accommodate. What if you never saw him again… what if he never got to talk to you about the book? You internally shook your head, focusing again on Wen Shiling in front of you. Aeons, if only you could have a drink to take the edge off…

“I don’t want him back… he’s stupid!” she sobbed again. You tried not to cringe at the snot covering the sleeves of her dress, forcing yourself to focus on her words, “He doesn’t talk to me and then disappears…! I don’t even want him here!”

“I’m sure he was just busy,” you attempt to soothe the girl, cursing the Aeons for failing to give you skills in soothing children. Deciding your ability to comfort children was lacking, you decided to only logically thing you could do was change your tone to match your usual personality, “You know, once we get him back I’m sure he’ll be sorry for how he treated you. That’ll serve him right, huh?.”

“He’ll be sorry?” she echoed your words, blinking dumbly up at you. You nodded in encouragement, hoping that you finally found some method to calm her crying. You forced yourself to plaster the a smile on your face, as if everything was fine and you weren’t currently feeling like death from a hangover and dealing with the aftermath of another invasion and your alcohol problem all at the same time. 

“Of course! Im sure we can even make him take an afternoon off his stupid ecology research,” you said with smirk, happy to at least let your genuine thoughts shine through for a moment before the inevitable hours of seriousness ahead, “I heard he’s horrible at board games, we could force him to play one beat him to a pulp.”

Wen Shiling smiled a bit, though her frown returned soon after, “Big sis… Can I ask you something? But you have to tell me the truth.”

Feeling like you were getting the farthest using your typical personality, you let your genuine thoughts ring through in your answer “Sure, I’m not a liar,” you shrugged, crossing your arms over your chest, “what’s up?”

“…” she hesitated for a moment before speaking, “Do you really think Adler is okay? … You think we’ll find him?” You stared at her for a moment, taking in her big brown tearful eyes and the snotty sleeves on her dress, an expression mixed with hopefulness and worry plastered all over her features. You forced a confident smirk on your face, placing your hands on your hips in mock confidence.

“I’ve never been so sure of anything in my life.” 

It wasn’t your first time lying to a kid, and you were sure it wouldn’t be the last either. 

~~~~

Your head continued to pound as the elevator descended, countless sounds filling your head. Arlan’s yelling… Wen Shiling’s crying… it all fluttered around your brain like snow, casting an endless stream of emotions on your already overwhelmed brain. Your mind drifted to your water bottle which you knew sat on your desk in your room… would Arlan even know if you took a sip from it… He couldn’t right? How would he? There was no way he could actually expect to accurately record your sobriety, you thought to yourself. No, you just had to be sneaky with it - a few sips here and there to quell your thoughts… thats all you would need… just something to take the edge off. Even the thought of the alcohol seemed to quiet your brain, like a blanket may drive off heat on a cold night. If you were in your right mind, maybe you would realize how worrisome your thoughts truly were… but right now you really didn’t care.

“When an elevator arrives at its destination, you are expected to dismount it,” you blinked back into focus at the familiar irritating voice, eyes falling on to the Doctor. Dressed in his usual clothes, though lacking his alabaster head, he stared at you with a raised eyebrow, as if you were some sort of unusual specimen in his lab. In all honesty, you couldn’t blame him. You hadn’t even realized your elevator had arrived at the floor with everyone’s personal quarters, too caught up in your thoughts to notice, which left you standing blankly forward despite the door already having opened. 

“And when someone doesn’t get out, you’re expected to politely address them, not be a snarky asshole,” you shot back, forcing yourself to leave the elevator. Not ready to end the conversation, but not wanting the elevator to go away, the Doctor stepped inside, pressing the door open button.

“Your insults lack creativity when you are hung over,” he deadpanned, sighing - whether in disappointment or disgust, you didn’t know, “I suppose it doesn’t matter. I was looking for you, you need to come with me.”

You rose an eyebrow at the Doctor, “Uh, kinda in the middle of trying to solve a crisis right now,” you deadpanned, “I’m sure you’ve heard about it… ya know, missing researchers, faulty security system. Don’t really have time for whatever bullshit you’re up to right now.”

“You wound me,” he states, though his face shows no sign of any emotion, “Since when do I act without purpose?” He looked at you with disgust, as if he was shocked at the suggestion, “Of course I am aware of the current predicament and I wish to help you.” 

You cock an eyebrow at him, arms crossed in front of your chest, “And why would you do that exactly? What’s in it for you?” skepticism dripped from your tone, a fact that you knew was all too apparent for the Doctor, who met your gaze defiantly, “Literally all you’ve done since getting here is be a pain in the ass and then almost get me killed - your actions don’t really scream helpful.”

“I seem to recall I was helpful enough in procuring wine for you and allowing you to sleep in my presence,” he smirked cockily, brushing a stray strand of hair from his forehead, “Or do actions such as those not qualify as helpful in your dictionary?”

“The only thing that helped with is getting me chewed out by my boss, so thanks for that I guess, what a help you are,” you rolled your eyes, tempted to walk away, but for some reason forcing yourself to stay put, “I don’t know what the hell was in that wine you gave me, but I swear I’m not usually that… clingy.” You thought you should say more, but chose to stay silent deciding you already made enough of a fool of yourself, “Honestly I don’t even remember most of the shit I did last night.”

“Alcohol interferes with one’s ability to form long term memories, such a fact is really not suprising,” he said matter-of-factly, a cocky smirk coating his features. You barley knew this man, but he seemed to always revel in the ability of making people feel dumb, “Luckily for you, I retained my own memory of the evening, if you wish to recall more.”

“I’d rather not learn more things Arlan can yell at me about, thanks,” you huffed, forcing the conversation back to its original topic, “So really, why do you wanna help me? What’s in it for you?”

“Many things really,” he said casually, finger still firmly pressing the open button on the elevator door, “The satisfaction of helping idiots some a simple problem, the joy of reuniting the researchers with their companions… or the pleasure of building a diplomatic relationship between the IPC and the Space Station as I was directed.”

“Should’ve known of course it was about the diplomacy,” you smirked at him, propping an arm next to the elevator door, “You clearly wouldn’t act kindly on your own accord. Got your own boss who you’re afraid will chew you out like mine?”

The Doctor’s face soured at the mention of a boss, “I’d rather not think of my acquaintances at the IPC, they are not the most fond people to be around.” The scowl on his face made you interested in learning more, but the Doctor was quick to change the subject, “I merely offered my assistance to Miss Asta and she accepted. The mere certitude that doing so will satisfy my companions is simply a bonus.”

“Whatever, I don’t care if Asta got you to help, I have my own work to do,” you brushed him off, turning to move away from the elevator. You were startled when a firm hand grasped your arm, preventing you from leaving. The Doctor’s skin was warm, radiating heat through Screwllum’s dress shirt. His touch mass you freeze in your tracks, glancing over your shoulder at the Doctor. 

“I’m not asking you,” he said plainly, as if disgusted that you hadn’t picked up on that sooner, “You prescene has been requested.” You felt mesmerized for a moment by his presence, the scent of his cologne filling your nose due to your close proximity. His golden eyes seemed to bore into you, as if staring into your soul. It was the first time you really took in how… handsome he looked. Of course you had noticed before… you had eyes of course, but something about how he looked at you now seemed to awaken something within you, something you were desperate to push away, while at the same time wanting to cling on to it. 

Snapping into your senses, you yank your hand from his, crossing it over your chest once more, “Requasted by who?”

“Hmmm what was the word you used for it again?” The Doctor’s hand, now free from holding your wrist, went to his chin in contemplation, “Ah yes, that’s it. A situationship. Screwllum requested your prescene.” With his other hand, he let go of open door button, allowing the door to close behind him, “We’ll see you in the Seclusion Zone.”

[foraging-kitten]

Sass me at yer own risk Darlin’ (the beginning of a Shepnax fanfic)

This is the very start of the first shepnax fic im writing!! not much to it yet but wanted to share anyways

mild location spoilers?

(Set in Tomb of Sorrows, very loosely but when Sarnax is acting all sour about using his spells)

The party had been venturing down the dim tunnel for hours at this point. Despite not running into any danger so far, everyone was getting increasingly on edge. The shallow water they’d been forced to trudge through was cold and had by now fully soaked through their shoes. The silence was heavy in the musty air, and the already narrow walls felt like they were closing in. Suffice to say, no-one was in a particularly good mood.

Shepherd and Sarnax were leading the charge, with the tiefling taking the front, arcane pistol firmly in hand, and the lizard dutifully following to light the way. Given the near silence of the group, the two had exchanged few words since entering the tunnel. Neither wanted to draw the groups attention, especially toward any less than professional conversations, but Sarnax was starting to get frustrated with this and it was seeping, ever so subtly, into his behavior. He was keeping it generally to himself, not wanting to explain his silly aggravation at not enough attention. Although, the frequent huffs and splashing steps did not unnoticed by the cowboys keen senses, he decided there was little to do about it now and he’d have to address this attitude later.

———

Reaching the bottom of the staircase, the group began trying to solve the apparent puzzle to get hopefully into the catacombs. Now that the group was talking, Sarnax’s sass was becoming more apparent. The lizard was very particular about what he thought would be the solution, and seemed to almost glower at the Professor for not immediately doing as he suggested. He stomped over, ignoring the others, and quickly pulled the chain on the wall.

“Gherix’s light guides me to open our path,” and the lizards razor sharp teeth glinted as his mouth widened slightly into a smug grin, clearly pleased with himself. Shepherd cocked his eyebrow at the, blatant to him, display, though the rest of the party didn’t seem to notice. Shepherd hadn’t expected the lizardfolk to have such an attitude, especially in front of the whole expedition like this. To be fair, the cleric had been pulling more than his fair share so maybe Shep could cut him a little slack.

But where’s the fun in that?

As the group made their way back up the stairs, Shepherd came behind the lizard, leaned close to his ear, and whispered low, “watch it, darlin.” His tail coming up to snap at Sarnaxs’ ass, causing him to jump a bit and suppress a chirp of surprise. Shepherd fell back smirking to himself and watching the lizardfolks twitching tail silently as they climbed the stairs.

They’d finally gotten to the catacombs they were searching for, and they were suddenly very unsure how to proceed. Sarnax was giving the Professor a hard time about being the one to contact Arabelle, imploring him to be more prepared in the future while his tail twitched. 

Shepherd took note of this but decided to see what else the lizard would do, after all the Professor should have been more prepared…

Almost immediately as they crossed the threshold, evidently unthreatening as Arabelle had said, the Professor turned to Sarnax hoping for some insight on where to begin searching for their targets.

“I suppose I will, yet again, use my energy to call upon Gherix and have his holy will guide us to the remains” Saying this, the lizard even went so far as to roll his eyes, though it seemed unpracticed, before glancing toward Shepherd. 

Oh the little devil knows what he’s doin’, he’s tryna fire me up

Thinking this, Shepherds face split into a devilish grin.

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

I'm pretty happy with it so far but still working on where to go from here,, wish me luck!!

[damnfandomproblems]

Fandom Problem #7452:

Not to be that guy, but the Proship and Antiship stuff is stupid. Either you overindulge or underindulge and at this point these words mean nothing and ultimately depend on a case by case basis.

I think it’d be better if we just said what we believed instead of making up stupid little circlejerk groups where we all send each other death threats (Both if y’all do it and I know because I used to be part of each side in sections of my life) and act all tough like you’re actually doing something with your lives.

I’m not saying you can’t argue, have online interests, or that y’all should just dance together hand in hand while singing in god’s orchestra but what I am saying is that this fandom infighting is solving nothing. Block people you don’t like, follow those you do like, don’t go after people, and stay in your own lane.

As long as someone isn’t committing a full ass crime or purposefully trying to cause physical/mental harm (Reading something that was properly tagged but simply made you uncomfy doesn’t count) then just walk away and don’t engage.

It took me years to stop caring and take the mature route of just blocking those I personally don’t wish to interact with but I think everyone should. No one is reading your dni to make sure they don’t accidentally make you upset, so filter it out yourself or realize you’re not mature enough to handle interactions on a platform with thousands of other members with different opinions and leave until you are.

Also morality doesn’t work in fandom. Your morality is not the problem of strangers online and therefore they aren’t obligated to follow. Lack of morality also doesn’t need to be followed as well and you have to accept that not everyone wants to hear about the 2 grillion chapter fanfic you wrote about your favorite ways to watch Mr. Blorboscrungly get brutalized.

On the subject, NO ONE IS OBLIGATED TO HOUSE YOU IN THEIR SPACES! If someone is uncomfortable by your presence, drop it and leave. Don’t be a cunt and try to weasel your way in and send them creepy shit.

Make your own spaces, but be open to your opinions being questioned and let yourself grow instead of staying in your little fandom cage.

(Sorry for word vomit, I just think the shipping stuff is dumb because no one knows what shit means anymore.)

[writtenbyshama]

Long Way Home [Part VII]

[Azriel x Reader fanfic]

Synopsis: Y/n is the daughter of a healer in the city of Velaris. After a small incident, she moves to the House of the Wind to work for the High Lord, Rhysand. Everyone in the house seems to welcome her except Azriel, the second in command. Even though he is just blankly polite and does not acknowledge her much, she can't help but fall for him. Does Azriel return her feelings or remain unfeelingly aloof?

─•~❉᯽❉~•─

Read Part 1 here.

Read Part 2 here.

Read Part 3 here.

Read Part 4 here.

Read Part 5 here.

Read Part 6 here.

─•~❉᯽❉~•─

Part VII

My mind was still fighting the wine induced muddle, trying to grasp the fact that Azriel was really here. My body though, acted on a reflex. I had repacked the basket, rolled the mat and was out of the clearing before he opened his mouth to speak. I heard nothing but the gush of blood into my head, and I quickly went inside and locked the door of the main entrance. 

I didn't know what to think. Azriel had come here. He had come to a place which was unknown to everyone but me and father. 

The mat and the basket slipped from my hands and thumped on the wooden floor. The cloak was halfway down my shoulders as I pressed myself against the door, parting the curtain of the window adjacent to it to see if he was outside. 

He was. 

There was a verandah extending from the front door with a wrap-around porch. The roof over the verandah was held upright by two carved pillars, and Azriel was sitting down and leaning back against one of them. His head was turned the other way, watching the stars still falling. 

His usual leathers were absent; in their place was a black shirt and pair of black trousers. The buttons of the shirt glinted in the light like gemstones. His hair was ruffled, silver jewellery adorned his neck and hands. He was the still the most beautiful fae I had ever laid my eyes on, and the mating bond within me flared to life for a moment and tugged painfully. 

I wanted nothing but to open the door, walk out and hold him. 

The sensible part of me held me in check. Even though he was supposed to be my mate, he had given me nothing but pain until now, and I couldn't let go of it that easily. I clamped down on the bond, let the curtain fall back and went upstairs to my bed. 

The entry of my room's balcony was set with French windows, and its curtains were always parted to let in the scenery. The sky was still lit, but fading as the event was coming to an end. This was the second time since that night when I cried myself to sleep. 

─•~❉᯽❉~•─

The next day, I found a note on the kitchen table. It was my father's handwriting, with two words on it. 

I'm sorry.

Well, that solved the mystery of how Azriel came to know about this place. It didn't matter. I was not angry. I was not sad. I was empty, tired. The spark of feeling in me had withered and I had no idea how to revive it. 

In the days that followed, Azriel made a habit of lingering. I noticed him flying in at dusk, possibly after finishing his duties. He never imposed himself on me, he was just...there. 

As I moved inside, he followed from outside. The porch around the villa had a thick, low wall for comfortable seating which he took advantage of. Every room I was in the ground floor, I could see him out the window, seated on the porch wall. He was in his usual leathers and cloak, and I could see the dim light emanating from his chest and the back of his hands. His head was always turned the other way, as if he was looking out, but I knew he watched me when I wasn't looking at him. 

I let him be. I didn't want to talk to him, let alone argue and send him away.

He perched on the balcony wall when I was in my bed, and the only room he couldn't look into was the bathroom. However, I could see him from the window, on the porch railing directly underneath it. 

As it was, he was comfortable. He had his cloak to protect himself from the cold, and I'm sure he ate during the day. 

He was waiting for me to willingly let him in. And for that, I hoped he had the patience of a saint because this wasn't going to be easy.

─•~❉᯽❉~•─

Tags:

@kalulakunundrum @thelov3lybookworm @hnyclover @impossibelle @sourapplex @brujitafantomatico @venuseuripedis @darling006

─•~❉᯽❉~•─

Read Part 8 here.

This fanfic can also be found in Wattpad, along with other exclusive parts like playlists and pictures. Here's the link: https://www.wattpad.com/story/358573037-long-way-home

Happy reading! <3

[changbokkii]

𝐌𝐲 𝐜𝐫𝐚𝐳𝐲 𝐛𝐨𝐲𝐬

(𝐀/𝐍: there will be a part 2 I think maybe a part 4 because Idek but I’m going to make it different scenarios and stuff like that)

Summary: you are dating a psychotic menace and a smartass manipulator at the same time (they both know about it dw 😉)

Word Count: 413 words

LOVE YOU ALL AND THANKS FOR THE SUPPORT ON GETTING MY WATTPAD ACCOUNT BACK I APPRECIATE IT SO MCH ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️!!

Sincerely, Valentine ★!

What you have never expected from Niragi or even Chishiya is that they would share you. Niragi never liked to share. What was his was his, no one could take that away from him.

Same with Chishiya who especially didn't like to share. But though the affection was nice and all there was still a problem: Niragi and Chishiya didn't like each other.

To solve that problem you had a schedule that you could spend time with both of them. Niragi had you during the afternoon and evening. Chishiya had you in the morning and night.

If you saw one another somewhere at the beach you would hug them and talk for a bit. You'll see Niragi and the other militants at the beach parties during your time with Chishiya when you two would go together most of the time with Kuina. But during your time with Niragi you'll see Chishiya with Kuina (Most of the time) or by himself observing some of the other citizens of the beach.

EVENINGS WITH NIRAGI:

•ALWAYS has a hand on your waist

•never leaves your side

• “Stay close to me okay babe? I don’t trust these fuckers…”

•has his rifle in his hand at all times (just in case yk)

•rough, passionate, deep kisses

•hanging out with the militants

•sitting on his lap

•glares at anyone who looks at you funny

• “watcha looking at bitch!?”

•hands roam around your thighs when you guys are sitting down

•would sneak off to his room and do the if yk yk

NIGHTTIME WITH CHISHIYA

•acts like a baby and won't let go of you

•cuddles you all night

•is a light sleeper so he instantly wakes up when you try to get up

• "where are you going?”

• “No you’re staying with me.”

•he secretly enjoys you playing with your hair but says he hates it

•during you’re time together you make sure to do his eyeliner

•you go to the rooftop and watch the other members at the beach party while you two talk about anything

•you guys go to a game just for fun

•soft, loving, quick kisses 🤭🤭

•if you two do the the thing…you guys probably won’t stop until 2 in the morning (probably the same with Niragi but Chishiya probably has more stamina)

(A/N: I hope you enjoyed this I was trying to make this a fanfic but it turned out to be headcannons instead. I’ll try to make a fanfic out no promises 😔😔)

[reintarou]

☀️ How would {…} comfort you after a long day?

♡︎. Characters: Jiro, Ichiro, Hifumi, Jakurai

♡︎. Tags: Comfort

♡︎. Other: Sorry for a bit of inactivity! I was contemplating a little about the ways I want to write these. I decided to split it into little headcanons based on prompts like these and short fanfics based on scenarios! If you have any requests, whether it's just a specific character you want me to write about, or if it's a prompt/scenario idea, feel free to message me! I will update my profile soon, but for prompts like these, I will use a ☀️ in the title, and for scenarios I'll use 🌑, so it's easy to distinguish them!

──────────────────────────────────────

Yamada Jiro

▸ He would be slightly slow to notice that something is wrong. He’s able to read people, he doesn’t want to misread them though. ▸ As soon as he noticed though, he would try to ask you what’s wrong, without pressuring you for answers. He respects your privacy, and he knows a thing or two about not prying into somebody’s business. ▸ If you gave him an answer, he would try to help out, even though he’s not the best with words. His advice could be slightly vague or not very helpful, but you appreciate his effort no matter what. ▸ If you refused to answer, he wouldn’t be upset with you. Instead, he would invite you on the couch, and you two would sit together, cuddling up. He would turn on the football match on the TV, but his mind would be focused more on you anyways. ▸ Jiro would also lend you his shoulder to cry on, if you needed it. He would have a pack of tissues with him, always ready to wipe your tears. … He wouldn’t mind if you stained his shirt with your tears either, though.

Yamada Ichiro

▸ Ichiro was often busy with his odd jobs, but if you needed a shoulder to lean on, he’d always find a moment for you. ▸ He would be quick to notice that something was wrong, and if you didn’t feel like telling him about it, he would immediately get worried. That doesn’t mean he would get angry, though. Ichiro would be patient with you. ▸ If you told him, he would be very supportive. He would try to find a way to resolve your problem, or he’d just simply support you, if it wasn’t something that needed solving. ▸ Ichiro would also try to boost your confidence. Showering you with compliments, praising you for things that you’ve done. Somehow, his explanations would be detailed too. For him, it wasn’t much work, but he knew you appreciated those. ▸ If you felt like it, he would invite you to cuddle with him on the couch, taking snacks and watching anime. He’d try to distract you from your worries.

Izanami Hifumi

▸ Hifumi would get worried, fast. If he wasn’t in his host mode, and he noticed that you weren’t in the mood for his cheerful self, he would quickly notice that something was wrong. ▸ Since he usually worked in the evenings, he wouldn’t be able to spend the night with you, cuddling and comforting you as he loved to. ▸ But he would be willing to take a night off for you without a second thought. He always prioritized your happiness and comfort over his job. ▸ He’d prepare a warm meal for you to enjoy. After all, both of you loved his cooking, and he would always be willing to make you something if it meant it’d cheer you up. ▸ Hifumi would cuddle up in bed with you, being the big spoon. One hand gently caressing your back, his other hand softly patting your head. He’d be there, willing to listen to your troubles.

Jinguji Jakurai

▸ Jakurai could read you like an open book. He’s good at analyzing people, and seeing that you were under the weather would make him worried. ▸ He wouldn’t force you to talk, but if you felt like sharing about your problems, he’d listen, and give you advice if you need one. Jakurai would make you a warm, healthy cup of tea, to help you relax. ▸ His advice was always on point, and not difficult to follow. He knew your boundaries and abilities, and he wouldn’t wish to push you past your limits. ▸ Jakurai would comfort you in any way you like. If it was cuddles, kisses, or anything you wished for, he’d be happy to oblige.

[reizoudesu]

just a random thought... (imagine)

IMAGINE THIS: ⋆｡ﾟ☁︎｡⋆｡ ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡⋆ ︵‿︵‿︵‿︵︵‿︵‿︵‿︵︵‿︵‿︵‿︵

LOVE can be so complicated, ever-changing. it could appear as a single stroke of the wind into a turbulent storm, or a calm wave rising into a surge to crash over cities.

you were mean, aloof, unapproachable - so icy no one dared to break through your fortress after someone had broken your heart. it resided in that thick wall, watching yourself pick up the pieces, mending through the harsh pain of heartache.

your past lover did all those things to you - it made your smile fade into a thin line of indifference, erase your kindness to rewrite disdain, changing your mind - changing you. he had seen you burn, your figure charred and disappearing into ashes. the flames were so large he refused to help you, out of fear that he could be set ablaze. the flames hurt so bad you became numb.

but not until him.

he sees you at work, in the cafeteria, around the halls where you two would pass, and even outdoors. he's seen that look you've been hiding from others. and he's dying to know why.

to him, you were an enigma. a wonderful enigma. a puzzle waiting for be solved by the right person. a riddle that could only be solved by those who dared to face divine wrath. he always loved reading people, including you. but you were different case.

with time, the two of you got along, in spite of the little banters and arguments that came along with it. still, you found yourself getting too attached and you often end up pushing him away when he wanted to talk to you personally. a heart-to-heart.

you knew it in yourself that you were capable of doing things alone, and so you continued on - but as time wore away on you, those shards of your heart eventually pierced your hands, just enough that you notice your palms bleeding red from picking them up and forcing them together without a glue.

he appeared like a dream, stepped behind you, holding your hands in a tight grip.

"y/n, please... it's time to stop."

those words... those words were foreign. it felt like a stab in the heart, but along with it comes...

...relief?

he pulled your hands away from the work you've tried so hard to recreate. it's imperfect, so imperfect you could just give up and cry.

he had nothing with him, just himself. he gazed up at you, more concerned about you than what you're trying to fix. he looked into your eyes, a genuine smile gracing his lips as the next words shocked you.

"breathe, love. let's take a moment to relax."

for the first time in a while, you felt your heart open, and a flutter as it blossomed like a rose in one rainy day. you have given him the key, and now he's here, comforting you at your lowest.

"whether you're doing anything or not, just seeing you live... is already enough for me."

SUGAWARA, DAICHI, Venti, Heizou, KAZUHA, Albedo, Kenma, THOMA, Atsushi, Ranpo + your faves~

︵‿︵‿︵‿︵︵‿︵‿︵‿︵︵‿︵‿︵‿︵︵‿︵‿︵‿︵

©reizoudesu do not copy, steal, mark as your own work (but feel free to repost <3)

(i haven't posted in a while, huh? but really, i'm currently working on my ongoing fanfic series: "stay alive" rn, ehe~)

[thinkingmyfandom]

I wrote a comment on YouTube that they took down straight away (expected 🙄). So, you guys can have it here.

Okay, everybody shut up! Finally, a place I can talk about it!

I leave my comments everywhere but I feel like nobody is hearing me!

I am an aroace person. And I am TIRED of people saying that shipping ace or aro people is wrong, or inaccurate. I'm so tired of it.

I adore Alastor from Hazbin Hotel. I'm writing my life away with a long fanfic about him. But by my golly goodness, did canon put it's storyline there.

There are some ace people (aroace too) who are sex-negative, want nothing to do with other people in that sense of the word. And that's fine. That's valid. And you know, it sucks, because you can easily write that. And I suppose it already has been written between Alastor and Angel Dust, and Alastor and Vox to some degree. Cool, fine, I like that Alastor has the confidence to have boundaries.

But then they put in Lucifer. And Alastor decided to stay. Like, we see no screen time with Angel Dust and Alastor. If Alastor doesn't like a person, he ditches. Perfect. I love that. It's a complexity to his character I want to see explored.

But he DOESN'T do that with Lucifer. Intentional or not, they wrote someone who Alastor didn't turn away. Alastor wanted to engage with Lucifer, and they seem to have developed some sort of dynamic. It doesn't matter what that dynamic is.

A lot of people see Alastor as an Ace character who self isolated from others. Which, fair. A lot of ace people do that. In so much media, it feels like Ace characters have two choices. Yes or no. Yes, date, but then, are they even ace anymore? They're basically not Ace anymore.

That's what I'm fed up with.

There's so much more to Asexuality than sex or no? Date or no?

In a storytelling sense, Ace characters are easy to write. They don't even need writing. Have them turn down a few people, and end your series with them happy and alone. You're done. And while it is good to see characters getting their asexuality explored in that way... it feels like that is the equivalent of calling asexually black and white again.

Hazbin Hotel dropped Alastor in a pit. They put Vox in there, and clearly Alastor dipped his foot in and left, for fun or confusion or whatever, because Vox is keen on getting the final laugh over him. You know what? That is the most aesthetic, ace-core thing a person could do. Sexual attraction means nothing to me but I'm gonna put my foot in and try it out anyway. Instructions unclear, energy turned high. Yes. That is the best part about Ace Alastor to me.

There's a lot of "they lived happily forever alone" representation. But there isn't enough, "that doesn't work for me. What are my other options?" representations out there.

So Alastor had this "I'm not opposed to you being anywhere near me" moment with Lucifer. And then Vivziepop is like, nope, radioapple isn't a thing, go home. And it's like... are you kidding me? Like, chaotic asexual kicked the beehive and your just... leaving it there? Like... excuse me?

I don't think Alastor is good asexual representation. I don't think there is any good ace representation I've seen. Because the first sign of being ace is usually 'everyone else wants that. I want what they have, but I'm missing the main component' And then all the representation I've seen just accept themselves and that's it. Sexual attraction is different to sexual drive. There are sex-favourable asexuals. And the way they write about Alastor, as a person who doesn't even know what that means, and Rosie watching him have no idea like it's a fun thing she wanta to see develop further? He comes across as someone who never really asked the question. Sex? No. Romance? No. Friends...? No. I don't there is a way to successfully write Hazbin Hotel in which Alastor doesn't get solved. And to solve him, he has to go through the doors and see what's on the other side. Even if he doesn't like it. If you put him through those doors and he decides he doesn't want connection to other people and he isn't just hiding and scared out of his mind, fine. Whatever.

But writing season one and then cutting out any hype for Radiostatic or Radioapple is a low blow, to me. It's not just fan-pandering. One of Alastor's first lines and things after 'redemption isn't real', is him saying no to Angel Dust. You made that a thing for the radio demon, a known quality and trait. And you're not going to explore it?

My brain says that the other thing they could do (because of the rumoured ace song of season 2) is infodump a tragic back story. And just... no? Please no? I get that Alastor isn't the main character, but it doesn't take much to build a little something into the long haul. And it feels like whatever ending you build in is going to have to have Alastor admitting that he went out of his way to engage with the king of hell, and he's not going to admit it willingly. And he's going to hqve to admit somethin was there. And it is going to be fluffy as hell.

And you know what? QPR THE HELL OUT OF IT! You want to be known as the best ace rep writing? Give me the QPR. Discussions of asexuality do not end without bringing up QPRs. No they don't. Every person deserves a happy ending, the love gets to be spread around. Human's need company. It makes me so mad that nobody addresses the ace cupiosexuals in the room, or just... anything. If you want to fanpander, put in a poly pairing. You have an adult tv show with asexuql representations. That's the basics. You want to help kids figure out their wants in life. Describe the spectrum and do it right.

If they half cook this good ace character by having him say 'no, no, no'forever, I will throw him out of my favourites collection. I already did it with Midoriya Izuku, don't fucking play with me. I'm warning you vivzie! I will be very sulky with you.

I live on Ao3. And I have seen, so many people, handle Aroace Alastor perfectly. We have Kink only, we have QPR equivilants, we have sex favourable, we have touch-negative. We have everything you could ever want for ace alastor. And if h*rny people want to look at pretend they can. If people want to try there hands but fail writing ace alastor, whatever sure. There isn't a wrong way to write Alastor.

But if one more person uses people demanding canon ships for a good reason to call the fandom's demands unbearable, I swear. I'll be very sad.

Not to mention, Vivzie says she is saving a special place in her heart for HuskerDust. It's not canon right now, but she isn't cancelling that. The fact that she cancelled radioapple so quickly is what really hurts the most. The least you could do is tease us with a good time and then throw it away. Is that so much to ask?

See, there you go. It wasn't too long was it?

[incorrectsibunaquotes]

I have a theory that the reason we as an audience feel like Sibuna in Season 3b are making monumentally stupid choices is because the show doesn’t actually spell out for us that the kids don’t have all the information we have. In fact, they are operating with less than half of our knowledge. (This is gonna be a longgggg post, so read under the cut if you dare)

On my latest rewatch of S3 for fanfic purposes, i found myself really struggling to justify why the hell Eddie couldn’t put two and two together with his vision of Patricia and the “traitor” in Sibuna. I was frustrated with him because to me it was incredibly obvious! Like who else could it possibly be?? But then, I rewatched it again with a closer eye and everything suddenly clicked:

We, the audience, are watching the action from a completely zoomed out angle. We’re not just following Sibuna, but we’re also following Team Evil. We know Robert is capturing Sinners and what a Sinner actually is, before Sibuna is even fully aware that they failed to stop the eclipse ceremony. The kids metaphorically tripped at the starting line.

Furthermore, this is the first time in the show that the Sibunas have not had either the upper hand or were even on equal playing field with the adults. In Season 1, the Society was wholly unprepared for a bunch of adolescents to start foiling in their plans (bc why would they be prepared for that??), and Sibuna basically destroyed them due to adults underestimating their willingness to fuck around and find out. In Season 2, Victor/Vera and Sibuna were on equal ground; no one knew how to solve the tasks and it was a matter of a bunch of separate parties trying to figure it out before each other. They were all just throwing shit at the wall and hoping it stuck.

At the top of Season 3, we play a lot with both the S1 and S2 dynamics. At first, Sibuna is leagues and bounds ahead of the adults, and then they pretty quickly end up on the same footing. Then, in the second half of the season, that entire dynamic is flipped on its head, and it’s Sibuna who are wholly unprepared for the adults. I’ve talked about how the kids, especially our Sibuna veterans, got a little too comfortable with Victor and co’s ineptitude and cocky with their own intelligence… but that’s not even why they were so slow on the uptake.

None of the Sibunas even hear the word “Sinner” until they find that book in the secret room and read it while sitting on the stage. And the book does not explain at all what a Sinner actually is. It tells them that Ammut needs “the souls of five human sinners who embody the greatest flaws of mankind” and once she has five of them she can enter the human realm and cause lots of problems. Absolutely nowhere in the book does it ever say “Also, much like Robert, the soulless body of the Sinner is reawakened in service to the underworld.” The only other hint that could have possibly clued anyone in is “when your friends are not your friends”. But like, that clue was ages ago! Why would they even be thinking about that, when it had absolutely no bearing on their hunt for the secret room/answers up to that point? I cannot stress this enough, THEY HAVE ABSOLUTELY NO CLUE WHAT A SINNER IS! (I’m gonna repeat this sentence about 400 times in case you don’t get it now lol) Mind you, that atp in the timeline, this is approximately fifteen or so minutes before Denby captures Patricia.

But let’s rewind all the way back to when Team Evil devises a plan to kidnap Eddie. He’s in the crypt, right? It’s pretty evident to him that it was probably Denby, Victor, and/or Robert who trapped him here, but he’s got no real clue as to why. Of course, we all know that they’re planning on turning him into a Sinner, because we saw Victor get turned. But as far as Sibuna knows, Victor has never really been on their side, so all they think is that he’s being meaner than usual but of course he’s opposing them. That’s not strange.

Okay, so Eddie is stuck and distressed, but he’s not as panicked as he needs to be because nowhere in his mind does he think this could potentially end in what is essentially his death. Now, throw in the horrifying vision he has of Patricia getting dragged into a glowing sarcophagus. He still doesn’t know what a Sinner is, but he knows that whatever he just saw was really bad; it’s an incentive from the Osirian spirit (or the house, or the gods, or literally whatever) to actually try to get the hell out of there.

So we’re all sitting here watching going “Oh my god they’re gonna nab Patricia and make her evil! 😰” because we have context; Eddie has absolutely none. It’s also really important for later on that his vision ends when the sarcophagus door shuts. It’s framed as incredibly final, and for all Eddie knows, they’ve just stuffed Patricia in what he knows is a tiny cramped space and locked the door behind her. He thinks that at best they are going to kidnap her or, at worst, straight up kill her. Nothing in that vision indicates she’s walking out of there at all.

When Patricia ran off after the fake messages, Eddie is concerned for a lot of different reasons, but the two primary ones are the obvious “oh my god my girlfriend thinks I cheated on her what do I do???” and the other is “if she’s run off on her own, the adults could fulfill my vision!” But then she turns back up, which should be clear to us by now means that he thinks she’s safe. He’s waiting for her (for any of them) to disappear. But when none of them do, they think it’s fine. It’s not that Eddie doesn’t think Patricia is in danger of becoming a Sinner, he just doesn’t realize what that would actually look like.

Even when they’re all in the hallway morbidly joking about having to give up sinning, the language KT uses is telling of what they think being a Sinner means: “We don’t want to accidentally help out Team Evil [by sinning].” Of course, this statement works with the knowledge the audience has of everything, but if Sibuna actually knew what they were dealing with, KT would have said something more like “We don’t want to get captured/turned by Team Evil.” The jokes they’re making are still morbid, but because they think you just get put in the sarcophagus and that’s the end of it.

Let’s flash forward again to the phonograph getting smashed and Eddie’s second vision that prompts the witch hunt panic in the first place. The vision can be separated into three parts: 1) Eddie sees a hooded figure smash the phonograph (okay Sibuna already knows someone did it on purpose, not too crazy); 2) Robert approaches him creepily and has the mic-drop moment of “it was one of your little friends; you have a viper in your nest” (seriously what a raw line of dialogue… but also now Eddie is being told that there is a traitor. Pretty cut and dry); 3) he turns around and sees every other member of Sibuna mockingly throw up the Sibuna sign (uh oh!)

So here is where people (including me!) always got a little annoyed with Eddie for not doing the math. But upon several rewatches and actually listening to what everyone was saying, never once do any of the kids ever bring up the word “Sinner” during the entirety of this whodunnit arc. And that’s simply because it’s not even a thought that crosses their minds. The language they use is very telling: “traitor” and “betrayal” being the heavy hitters. If any of them actually had context for what was actually going on, the language they would be using would be more like “victim” or literally just “Sinner” as a noun. But they don’t, which is why they’re so hostile toward one another… and why KT was screwed from the moment Eddie had that vision.

Because the fact that they don’t know that a Sinner is an evil version of themselves (not just someone whose soul is being used as a power generator), means that on a subconscious level Fabian, Alfie, and even Eddie already assumed KT was guilty. And Sinner!Patricia knew that, and that’s why she was so easily able to pivot and pin it on her. KT was directly linked to Frobisher, and Fabian and Alfie had already been suspicious of her at the start of the season for other reasons. It’s why Fabian let Patricia help him with the finger printing in the first place: because he doesn’t believe it’s her. And Eddie would have no real reason to suspect Patricia for three reasons: 1) Because he’s in love with her; 2) Because he knows just how long Patricia (and Fabian, and Alfie) have been loyal to Sibuna and to each other; 3) Because he, like everyone else, was looking at this betrayal as a willing capitulation to the Team Evil.

The first time Sibuna becomes aware that a Sinner is an entity that they have to actually watch out for walking about (as opposed to just having to watch out becoming), is after KT and Harriet manage to escape Patricia in the Gatehouse. Harriet clearly knows what a Sinner is bc she has the presence of mind to actually explain (vaguely, of course, because she’s drugged to kingdom come) to KT what she’d just narrowly escaped.

And then when she confronts Sibuna and Patricia in the hallway after Miss Crocodile Tears is telling tales about KT trying to kidnap her, KT drops the bomb on the boys: “She was trying to make me a Sinner just like her!” Pause. Record scratch. Okay. Now everything they thought they knew about the situation is completely recontextualized as something much more sinister than what they initially thought. Because I’d always struggled with how cruel they were being to KT, especially if they thought it wasn’t her fault. But everything up until this point deeply suggests or rather expects us to understand that Sibuna only had two pieces of an 100 piece puzzle, and that them being mean to KT was because they thought she actually betrayed them.

With all of this in mind, Eddie is not stupid for not figuring it out right away. In fact, without knowing what a Sinner actually is, it would be an insane leap to assume Patricia had anything to do with the phonograph.

I’ve basically talked myself and all of you in several circles, but the bottom line is the show didn’t do a fabulous job of telling us that Sibuna had no clue what they were up against. It’s easy for us to sit back and go “what the hell is wrong with them are they stupid?” because we have all the knowledge of what’s going on eons before they do. This is a far more charitable read of the characters’ choices and thought process, and the only way any of their actions make any sense. In fact, this is less of a theory and more of what is… literally canon, I guess

[andthekitchensinkao3]

Author Ask Tag

Thanks @mercars-musings for the tag! Don’t think I don’t see you in my mentions 🖤

What is the main lesson of your story?

…which one? XD

Okay. I’ll go into my three current projects + a bit of general insights.

Most of my stories center around the ideas of found family, and finding love in unexpected places. There’s also (nearly always) a theme of self-acceptance, and that what you think are your biggest flaws can actually be something really awesome.

In my original novel, the protagonist goes through a character arc where he gets to turn one of his disabilities into the advantage that saves the day. It might sound corny, but as someone with that actual disability, I think it’s Hella neat. Hard-of-Hearing people, represent.

For Stories Told and Forgotten (DA Veilguard, Emmrook fix-it fic), I think the overarching theme is something along the lines of “the only way is through” coupled with “despair doesn’t last forever”.

For The World’s Fair Hotel (Lokius horror set in 1893), which is something of a classic horror story, it’s about… the Venn diagram where “You’re strong enough on your own” meets “your friends/found family = your biggest strength”.

What did you use as inspiration for your world building?

Original novel - everything from classic Brit Crime murder mysteries to epitaphs. With vampires. And a light whiff of steampunk.

Stories - primarily the Dragon Age games. I love the lore, and was saddened when so much of it seems to have gotten lost in the chaos that was developing DA4. I haven’t had a chance to read the books or watch the series etc, but I’ve loved the world since DA Origins. I’m even using one of the codex entries as inspiration for the Emmrook romance - a tragic love story between a mortal and a spirit.

World’s Fair Hotel - various documentaries on H H Holmes I’ve caught over the years, but also the vibe of The Devil In Me. And, as always with my Loki fanfics, Norse mythology and folklore. Any fellow Scandinavians out there? Hi!

What is your MC trying to achieve, and what are you, the writer, trying to achieve with them? Do you want to inspire others, teach forgiveness, or help them grow as a person?

I just want to write stories that are good fun. Whether that’s full on Fantasy romances or corporate conspiracy Thrillers, or serial killer Horror with romantic subplots. The reader will take away what they will from the text, and I’m fine with that.

Original novel - solving the suspicious death of the protag’s mentor/father figure. Stopping the killer from getting away with murder.

Stories - save the world. It doesn’t get much bigger than that.

World’s Fair Hotel - both Loki and Mobius are Very Concerned with 1) finding each other before it’s too late, and 2) getting out of the Murder Castle.

How many chapters is your story going to have?

Original novel is 28 chapters in total, clocking in at 84k words.

Stories - WiP. As many as it needs, as I’m pretty much fixing the plot of the whole game. Yes, I am a bit bonkers.

World’s Fair Hotel - No more than ten chapters. We’re entering the home stretch in chapter 7, which should be ready for uploading within the week. :3

Is it fanfiction or original content? Where do you plan to post it?

Original novel - I’m going to give it a final revision/edit after some excellent feedback I got from an editor, and then it’s back into the query trenches for me. Going to try finding an agent, or an indie publisher willing to take it (and me) on.

Stories and WFH are obviously fanfic. All my fanfic can be found on AO3. My username is “andthekitchensink” - because I tend to throw absolutely everything into my fics, and I genre hop like you wouldn’t believe.

When did you start writing?

From the moment I could write? Like, aren’t we all descendants of storytellers? :) My first novel-length project was when I was…12? 13? I never finished that one, and it’s in Swedish. But I like the bare bones of it. I started writing fanfic in my late teens, once I discovered shounen ai, and sadly stopped in my early twenties due to crappy fandoms and Life getting in the way. Then a little game called Detroit: Become Human came out, and I woke up one day thinking “Fuck this shit. I’m gonna write what I WANT TO READ and screw what everyone else thinks.”

Do you have any words of encouragement for fellow writers of writeblr?

I’m a pantser at heart - as in I write by the seat of my pants - but I’ve found a little bit of planning ahead makes it easier for me to keep track of a story. I use bullet points A LOT, but always with the tacit agreement - between me and my brain - that nothing is sacred, and everything is up for revising if the story needs it, or the characters take things in a different direction. And believe you me, I always end up scrapping things I’ve planned will happen, and the story is never worse off for it. But! Don’t throw away text you love! Keep it in a separate document, or several. You’ll never find out where those paragraphs or sentences belong if you delete them.

And, one last tip: trust your writer gut. That thing Character A insisted should be kept in the beginning of the story, you know, that Thing you have no idea where that came from? It might just reveal its purpose in a much later chapter. If you’ve had that sort of epiphany, you know what I’m talking about. And if you’re just starting your writing journey - you’ll know when it happens. It’s the best feeling ever.

Trust yourself. Trust your stories. Trust the characters, whether they’re your original babies, or beloved fandom blorbos.

Tagging everyone! No pressure, as always <3 And if I forgot someone, sorry! Consider yourself tagged!

@ghoulehhh @natendo-art @in-my-loki-feels @kusakichan15

@devilbearingtrouble @impulsemuppet @mirilyawrites @scifikimmi @silentxsymphony

@rin-love-is-green @confetti39x @stillwanderingflame

@insert-witty-user-name-here @blackbirdofasgard @dreamycloud @distracteddream

@mobius-m-mobius @dilfmobius @adorbspotat @lgwilt

 @redheadsramblings @starfleetteddybear @mercars-musings @starrose17 @holyglassbone @genocidalfetus @wolfpup026 @elodiah @lokimobius @thosegayoldmen @kcscribbler @lavender-tea-fling

[camcat1320]

Spoilers for my fanfic, Book 4: Air, the Missing Element.

Zuko and Iroh were honeypotted! 🍯 🐝

(Jinko fans are going to hate me for this one)

If you don't know, honeypot or trap is a term used for secret operatives that intentionally try to sway a target under their influence, perhaps bribe or blackmail them into spilling intel.

The policy of Ba Sing Se is to keep the utopian peace in check, an isolationist idea. Long Feng kept files on everyone, including withholding letters that were addressed to Team Avatar. I like to imagine that Long Feng knew of Zuko and Iroh, but chose to solve the problem quietly, perhaps viewing the two as potential assets.

Jet comes barreling in, screaming about the two being firebenders. The Dai Li have orders to watch and survey the targets, trying to watch for nefarious activity and to figure out what they can use to bribe them. Jet throws a monkey wrench into the situation, causing a disturbance and mentioning the war. They quickly arrest Jet, knowing that he is telling the truth but they have other plans for the two.

Shortly after, Jin appears.

She visits the tea shop a lot apparently. Zuko tells his uncle that they have a problem and that someone is onto them. He says that the girl knows they are Fire Nation. Iroh shrugs it off and teases that she seems to have a crush on Zuko. Shortly after officially meeting, she asks him on a date.

While on the date, she is asking a lot of questions. The first 2 seem innocent enough but asking about where they lived before or why they were traveling are good questions for intel. I bet Jin knows that Zuko is lying because he is a terrible liar. Then when she asked about if he juggled, lying again. She comes off as sweet and cute but her challenging him to juggle was a way to catch him in a lie.

So far, her attempts at getting any intel out of Zuko hasn't been successful. So she tries to get personal, showing him her supposed favorite place in the city. It just so happens to be a fountain that normally has lit lanterns, a perfect task for any firebender to resolve. I bet the lanterns were purposefully blown out prior to this, making it a test/trap for Zuko. If Jin is successful at creating a sort of bond with Zuko, he would do this one small thing for her. And he does.

She knows he's a firebender but she acted like she was amazed and surprised. Also, look at that face as she tucks her hair behind her ear. Those lowered eyelids speaks, "I got you now sucker. Now to seal the deal." So she goes for the kiss but is interrupted by Zuko shoving a coupon in her face. Then she tries again and he kisses her back. But then he quickly pulls away to Jin's surprise. All we get is "it's complicated", so vague and it's left to the audience to interpret what is happening in his mind.

The honey trap was deemed unsuccessful with the teenage boy.

But Iroh is another story.

Honey traps don't always have to be romantic in nature. They can also be financial incentives. So here comes another secret operative, a wealthy businessman.

He first flatters Iroh, using words such as "genius" and "incredible". Funny that he uses the word "buzzing" 🍯🐝 Then the man flaunts his wealth with his clothing and sparkly jewelry. Then he presents him with an offer that is hard to refuse- his own tea shop!

Having a tea shop is Iroh's dream, this information being gathered during the Dai Li's surveillance. He further sweetens the deal with offering a new apartment in the upper ring and that he has complete creative freedom. And look how they drew the businessman in this frame. He just looks like a villain.

Iroh was successfully honey trapped.

It makes sense to bring an intel asset closer to the upper ring of the city so it's easier to keep tabs on them and easier to reel them into striking a deal. Now if it wasn't for Azula entering the game, I imagine Long Feng would've invited them to serve tea at the palace and end up making a deal for Iroh and Zuko to give intel that could help the Earth Kingdom win the war. But then Team Avatar ruined Long Feng's plans.

So sorry if you like this part of Zuko and Iroh's story and if I ruined the wholesomeness for you. In my research for writing Book 4, I've realized that the majority of ATLA focuses on the nature of duality, of yin and yang. People who are seemingly innocent can be sinister such as Jet and Hama and I believe Jin can also be included in this group- If we had a Book 4 that is.

Sorry Jinko shippers. I'm a Zutara shipper and I thought Jinko was a cute secondary option. If this spoils that ship, I'm sorry but it makes for great storytelling!