#it's actually the shortest thing I've ever written

[queenerdloser]

me: huh i finally had a workshop where no one told me i should expand my short story into a longer piece! maybe i AM getting better at figuring out what should be a short story vs a novel.

my writing instructor in a 1:1: actually i think this short story you submitted would benefit from being more like a novella length

me: by talos this cant be happening

[fawniswriting]

𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐧 𝐟𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐞𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Female Reader

Synopsis: The story of a girl and her fallen flowers, as well as a boy who can't seem to forget either of them.

Word Count: 3.2k

Warning(s): 1940s!Bucky. 1940s!reader. winter-soldier!Bucky. TFATWS!Bucky. non-linear timeline (time-jumps). childhood friends to lovers. kissing. profanities. canon typical violence. bucky in the electric chair. brief mention of suicidal thoughts. fluff. kinda cheesy if you squint. mild angst. implied death (?). platonic sambucky. bittersweet ending I guess?? (you'll see what I mean)

Author's Note: okayyy so this didn't quite turn out the way I thought it would, but I loveeedd the concept as soon as I got it in my head and still wanted to share this story with you guys 🥺 idk why I seem to struggle translating my ideas properly lately 🫠 anywho, this is officially the shortest piece I've ever written, and I'm actually kind of challenging myself to start writing shorter pieces because I always end up blabbering non-stop in my fics (a side effect to being a yapper, I guess 😭). but despite all, I hope you'll still like this one and find it enjoyable! ❤️ and if you do, please don't forget: like, comment, and reblog 💞

Bucky Barnes Masterlist

“This is for you.”

Twelve-year-old Bucky Barnes looked up from the wriggling worm on the ground and squinted his eyes against the blinding sun. The sky of Brooklyn was the color of his eyes today, bright and vast as if someone had splashed a painter's brush across the horizon. Under the stretch of blue, his gaze landed on you—the new girl at school, the one his classmates had been whispering about since Mr. Morris decided to take everyone out to the park for today's PE lesson. 

Johnny Hurst told Bucky that you were the prettiest dame he had ever seen.

And boy, if the punk weren't telling the truth.

Bucky's eyes flitted over you from head to toe—taking in the slight tilt of your head, the subtle curve of your lips, and the worn blouse that clung to you at least half a size too big—before they finally landed on the hand outstretched towards him.

“What's this?��� he asked.

“It's a flower.”

“I can see that.”

Abandoning the worm, Bucky rose to his feet and brushed the dust off his slacks. You observed his movements with fervor, your hand still curling around the yellow daffodil as if its petals held the cosmic tethers that kept the entire universe from falling apart.

You extended your palm further, positioning the flower directly under his nose until he could smell the fragrance caressing his cheeks.

“It's for you,” you repeated.

Bucky's eyes flicked twice between your face and the daffodil. “Is this a trick?”

“No.”

“Someone put you up to this?”

“No.”

“Where'd you get the flower?”

“From there.”

Bucky's eyes followed the direction of your finger, spotting the daffodil bushes located just a few paces ahead. Not in full bloom yet, but nearly. A golden oasis in the midst of a playground of gray and trampled grass.

You turned towards him again, your expression remaining unchanged as you told him, “I picked it up from the ground.”

Bucky stared at the daffodil in silence. “You're giving me a wilted flower?”

“It's not wilted.”

There was a shadow appearing in the center of your forehead. Your fingertips twitched where they hovered attentively around the yellow petals, as though the accusation had offended you, as though Bucky had spoken blasphemy against the flower by calling it wilted.

“It's been on the ground,” Bucky pointed out.

“So? It simply fell off. Doesn't mean it's wilted.”

“Ain't that the same thing?”

“No.” You pouted, your forehead creasing deeper as your hand cradled the daffodil closer to your chest. “A wilted flower is dead. It doesn't have any love remaining inside it. This flower is not like that.”

And then, like some kind of switch had been flipped, you angled your head towards him—entwining his eyes with your steadfast gaze, rendering his legs motionless with the sight of a brilliant grin stretching across your beautiful face.

“This flower still has a lot of love to give to the world,” you proclaimed.

Bucky's heart stuttered.

It must have been a premonition from the heavens when Bucky's arm began lifting of its own accord, receiving the daffodil from your hand and relishing in the elated hum that the gesture elicited. The petals were delicate against the skin of his palm, and Bucky suddenly feared the possibility of crushing them due to his overt carelessness.

“She's yours now.” You beamed, swaying slightly on your feet as your hands clapped in infectious joy. “She'll give you all of her love if you promise to take care of her.”

His lips quirked. “It's a she?”

“Of course,” you replied, the sun glinting radiantly in your pupils. “All the beautiful things in life are a she.”

Bucky couldn't find it in himself to argue.

He watched you leave with heart on his sleeve, bewitched by the ribbon of your laughter dancing in the wind. His fingers curled protectively around the yellow daffodil, his heart singing in tandem with the rhythm of your skipping feet echoing through the earth.

“Hey!” Bucky called out. You stopped halfway in your tracks, smiling at him from the distance like his wildest daydreams made into flesh. “Why me?”

“What do you mean?”

“Why'd you decide to give the flower to me?”

The grin on your face widened, and Bucky—bless his heart—thought for a moment that his entire limbs might collapse.

A breeze rustled the surrounding trees, cavorting around until it floated across your cheeks. You stumbled back a step upon its intrusion, your eyes peering shyly under the harsh judgment of the sun. And yet, your smile prevailed—still soft as a wisp, still managing to make Bucky's chest alight with something more precarious than a raging flame.

“Cause you're handsome,” you answered at last, the sound of your giggles resonating throughout the air and straight into Bucky's soul. “Take good care of her, James Buchanan Barnes.”

Blue eyes trailed along as you disappeared around the hedge, remnants of your melodic voice still dithering in the sky, a gentle lull against the wild thumping of his heart. As the world settled into its insipid normal, Bucky Barnes knew that there were two things of which he was absolutely certain.

One: the flower in his hand had now become the most prized possession in his otherwise monotone life.

And two: he had actually never told you his name.

Somehow, Bucky found that he didn't quite mind both.

“Say, handsome. Any chance you could tell a girl where to find a good time around here?”

Bucky hadn't even turned when the smile broke across his lips. 

His soul meandered towards your voice, his heart leaping out of its cage as he took in your entire figure for the first time that night—flowy dress and red lipstick, platform heels and a pair of lips that looked like they held whispers of a secret he would spend a lifetime trying to unravel. Your own smile blinded him as you approached closer, the cadence of your steps a harmonious symmetry with the surrounding ruckus of the carnival. 

“I'd show you a good time, doll.” He smirked once you stood in front of him, your chin tilting up in a way that made Bucky want to drop to his knees and worship the ground you had walked on. “All you gotta do is ask.”

“Really? Just ask?” You hummed, fluttering your lashes and sending a whole swing band loose in Bucky’s gut. “Shame. Here I thought I'd bargain a smooch for your company. Guess I'll just have to give it to someone else, then.”

You didn't have a chance to turn before Bucky yanked you back towards him, firm fingers curling around your wrist like a ship finally mooring to land. He swallowed your surprised yelp with a kiss, devouring your gasps as if the two of you weren't standing under caramel-slicked air and a parade of balloons and shrieks.

“Quit jokin’ about kissing someone else, sweetheart,” he rasped against your lips, fingers resolute where they squeezed around your hip. “Lest you're lookin’ to see me die of a heart attack.”

Your smile bloomed. “Then why don't you kiss me some more, Buck?”

He was more than happy to oblige.

His lips found yours again, slower this time, savoring every second as if he were living on borrowed time. The world around you faded away into an abstract background, centering you in the moment, where everything you yearned and cared for was the hint of sugar you could taste on your boyfriend's lips.

When the two of you parted for the second time, Bucky studied your face as though memorizing a miracle right before his very eyes. It made something stir in the depth of your chest.

“Got you something,” Bucky admitted, excitement and joy spilling out of his skin.

You waited patiently as he reached into his pocket, pulling out an eyeglass case that made your eyebrows pinch in wonder—since when did he wear glasses? But before you could ask, Bucky was already opening the lid, and the view of its content managed to coax a gasp of awe from somewhere within your ribs.

“Bucky, this is amazing.”

You picked up the tiny arrangement between your pointer and middle fingers, admiring the way the flowers were bound together into a miniscule bouquet. They were tethered to one another by a string of stem and twine, a thread of nature and mankind, existing side by side in an eternal waltz that fate had bestowed upon them.

Your chest tapered, bringing the tiny bouquet closer to your heart as you captured the giddy blue of Bucky’s eyes. “You made this yourself?”

“I did.” Bucky nodded, his chest inflating in a pale delight. “Well, Becca helped. Who could've guessed that tying a yarn around flower stems required nimble fingers, huh?”

You laughed along, concealing the way your insides were melting into a puddle as if this weren't the nicest gesture anyone had ever done for you.

“Ma gave me an earful when she saw me in the garden, dirt on my hands and knees, lookin’ for fallen blossoms. Said I'd better get some proper flowers for my girl if I didn't want her runnin’ off with another fella.” Bucky chuckled. “But I told her this was more special. After all, these buds ain't wilted yet, which means—”

“They still got love to give,” you whispered, void of air and yet brimming with boisterous affection. You kissed his chin and rewarded him a grin. “You know who else got love to give, Buck?” 

Bucky laughed, that rare, beautiful sound that always seemed too big for the world to hold. He cupped your cheek like he was holding a precious porcelain, leaning closer until your foreheads rested against one another.

"Yeah, sweetheart." He breathed, nudging his nose to yours. "I sure as hell do.”

“Mission report,” a voice commanded.

In the center of the room, the Soldat sat on a throne made of metal and terror. A cushion designed not for rest, but for bearing witness to the drips of blood pooling beneath restraint-bound limbs. Other soldiers stood all around the room, their cowardice louder than their breathing, their backs refusing to peel from the walls as if it could absolve them of their complicity.

The quiet stretched.

Out of the shadows, the tall, fiendish man emerged, carrying the kind of cruelty that even hell would cower from. He examined the Soldat and raised his eyebrows, noting down the asset's lack of response—an observation for later, an error to repair as if the Soldat had been a mere machine instead of a living soul.

The man stepped closer, repeating himself with a bellowing voice that would beckon the dead from their graves, “Mission report, Soldat.”

Still no answer.

The tension sweltered.

“What's wrong with him?” another man chimed in.

The first one shook his head, his mind already gearing, going through the motions on how he could pick apart and assemble the Soldat into something new, something better. But before he could jot down the evil plan on his notepad, his gaze slid downward, spotting the defensive curl of the Soldat's flesh fist hidden partly by his right thigh.

“There is something in his hand.”

The second man sprung into action, approaching the chair and demanding the frozen man on it to unclench his fingers, now. But the Soldat didn't move, not even a single indication to acknowledge the receival of the command. Even when the smack thundered across his cheek, the Soldat continued to stand his ground, a show of defiance through the very last thing he could still afford.

“Soldat.” The first man attempted again, a cold edge coursing through his words. “Give us what's in your hand before we put you back in the cryo.”

The Soldat didn't say anything, but his fingers flexed—just a tiny bit—though it was enough to help the second man pry the mysterious object out of the Soldat's hand.

“What is it?” the first man asked, a hint of impatience leaking through his practiced image.

“It's, uh… It's…” the second man stammered. 

He turned his palm around, confusion palpable in his eyes as he showed his colleague the mysterious object that the Soldat had guarded with more ferocity than any weapon they’d ever placed in his hands.

A slightly crumpled yellow daffodil.

“It's a flower?” the first man nearly roared. “It was just a fucking wilted flower?”

“It's not wilted.”

The room fell into an instantaneous hush. Every pair of eyes inside ambled towards the center of the room, towards the assassin who had just decided to break his silence over the trivial matter of flowers.

The first man turned towards the Soldat with a menacing stare, his eyes a pair of blades as he stepped closer towards the seat of torture, studying the Soldat who was still sitting stiffly as if awaiting the next round of nightmares. But beneath the blue eyes, usually steely and cold, something else had clawed its way through—something fiery and reckless, something akin to humanity.

The first man sneered, turning to the entire room to bark his orders, “Wipe him. And put him in the ice until further notice.”

People moved in a flurry of limbs as soon as the instruction had settled. Amidst the havoc, everybody failed to notice the silent tick of the Soldat's jaw, the scintillating shift of his pupils as unsolicited hands forced him back against the chair, strapping his entire body with restraints that felt more like burning coals against an expanse of skin.

The Soldat kept his eyes trained on the drab surface of the ceiling, bracing himself for the pain to come, for the same searing agony that had muddled his brain far too many times to count. He wouldn't remember much afterwards—wouldn't remember how desperately he kept wishing for death in those horrifying moments—but he would certainly remember the fear. Thrumming under his skin like lightning against a drowning man's ribs.

At the first descent of the machine upon each side of his head, the Soldat suddenly heard it—the voice. 

The one who wasn't his own but sounded like a missing piece of his soul.

The one who always appeared in times when he needed an anchor and something to hold.

The one who had told him to pick up the daffodil while he was on the field.

“Take it,” the voice had adjured. “Take the flower. It's not wilted yet, it has simply just fallen.”

So he did.

And right now, the voice was returning once more, only this time, it didn't come alone.

It came with flashes—images.

An image of laughter and smiles, of promises and dreams. An image of two bodies tangled beneath the sheets, spent breaths and a humming pleasure rushing through bloodstreams.

It came with an image of you.

“It's gonna be alright,” you told him, so gentle and kind that he almost believed it. “Everything's gonna be alright, honey. I'm right here with you.”

The machine awakened with an ominous snarl, triggering a low whine inside his skull, rising gradually until it split the edges of his mind apart. He tried to hold onto something, anything, but there was nothing left inside him except for scraps of bones and a heart mangled beyond any devastation the world could ever imagine.

He was no one. 

No name. No face. No soul. 

Just a body, wired and broken, as mechanical as the chair he sat upon.

As good as wilted.

“You're not wilted.”

The Soldat blinked.

“You've merely fallen, honey,” you assured, smiling so sweetly he could almost taste it on his tongue. “Fallen things aren't wilted. And fallen things—oh, sweetheart—they still have so much more love to give.”

“You dropped one, Sarah.”

Bucky bent down to pick up the flower on the floor, the one that had fatedly fallen from the bouquet of fragrance and colors that Sam's sister was currently moving to a clear vase. The petals fluttered like silk on the skin of Bucky's palm, and his knees nearly gave out from underneath him when he finally took a proper look at the blossom in his grasp.

A yellow daffodil.

“Just throw it away, Buck,” Sarah said from her place in the kitchen. She crumpled the parchment wrapper of the bouquet before throwing it into the bin, the arrangement of flowers now sitting proudly on the kitchen counter. “It's been on the ground, anyway.”

“Just ‘cause it's fallen, doesn't mean it's wilted yet.” Bucky sauntered towards the kitchen, stopping to position the bud amidst the array of petals and stems. “They still got a whole lot of love left to give, you know?”

Sarah's eyebrows rose.

Before she could comment on Bucky's surprising sentiment, Sam came striding into the house, his dark eyes immediately zeroing on the two people standing by the kitchen counter.

“What's this?” Sam asked, suspicion dripping from his voice. “Yo, man, I told you to stop flirting with my sis.”

“Nobody's flirting, Sam. We were just talking,” Bucky clarified. Then, just to ruffle Sam’s feathers, the super soldier flicked his gaze towards Sarah, tilting his lips in the way he used to do when he wanted to coax something out of you. “Right, Sarah?”

The woman giggled, and Bucky could almost beam in satisfaction at the imaginary smoke coming out of Sam's ears.

“He was just helping me, Sam,” Sarah told him. “One of the flowers fell, so he returned it to me.”

“Nuh uh. I don't believe that's all there is. That must be him tryna make a move. That was you making a move, isn't it?” Sam demanded, his gaze jerking aggressively between his sister and a smug Bucky. “What'd he tell you? Whatever it was, don't listen to it. Don't believe him. It's just a bunch of bullshit.”

“God, Sam, he didn't say anything.” Sarah rolled her eyes. “He just told me something about flowers. About how they aren't wilted if they fell, and… what was it again, Buck?”

The man tensed.

Bucky regained his composure in the blink of an eye, keeping the other two oblivious to the surge of turmoil that the simple question had sent. Keeping them in the dark about the way Bucky's heart had stumbled at the mere memory of your smile flaring across his mind and straight into his soul.

“It was nothing,” Bucky said. “Just a silly saying.”

“Oh, right!” Sarah snapped her fingers. “Fallen flowers still have lots of love to give.” She smiled proudly, eyes flickering towards Bucky with conspicuous excitement. “Was I right?”

Bucky's jaw clenched.

“The hell is that supposed to mean?” Sam questioned, his forehead knitting, vexation melting into incredulity. “That your game, Buck? Sounds lousy as hell.”

Bucky sighed. “Sam…”

“Did that kinda thing really work in the forties? ‘Cause damn, I could've been a real ladies man back then. Would've been so easy if all it took was one lame shit about flowers, and—hey, where you goin’?”

“Getting the hell away from you!”

Bucky heard Sam's laughter echoing from behind him, mocking and unaware of the wound in the former's chest that was beginning to crack and bleed all over the floor. The sound of your voice lingered in Bucky's mind, a ghost only he could hear, a cursed rapture that broke him apart at the seams before stitching him together all at once.

Before Bucky could exit the house, Sam's voice erupted again, “Hey! At least tell us how you got the idea for such a cheesy saying!”

“I didn't.” Bucky's grip contracted around the front door's handle, a shaky smile stretching his lips before he caught Sam's gaze from the distance. “Someone taught it to me. A long time ago.”

[newtkelly]

do you have any fave long bucktommy oneshots?

thank you for asking, i absolutely do! here are my long bucktommy oneshot fic recs. these fics are 10k-30k words (admittedly there are a few exceptions, but those feel longer than they actually are), and they are posted in one chapter. listed in order of published date. enjoy!

i sing of bitter earth by @middyblue [ao3 profile]

Published: 05-07-2024 | Words: 12,037 | Rated T

In his head, on the job, he can walk away from it. The underworld that lies in wait inside him stays behind and it’s just him and the rope, the hose, the halligan; give him a puzzle to solve and a caller to rescue and it’s like everything is air, rosy and clear and fragrant as an open field.

The Antelope Valley Poppy Reserve floods. Taylor falls; Tommy falls; Buck falls.

this was one of the first 9-1-1 fics to make a serious impression on me. i was, and still am, so taken by the imagery, the action, and the thematic storytelling. it bravely leans into being an emergency-based fic, and it genuinely made me want to tell a story like that, too. the prose and the characterization and the taylor/tommy dynamic are all so brilliant. definitely one of my most formative, influential, and cherished 9-1-1 fics.

an outlier that should not be counted by @dadvans [ao3 profile]

Published: 05-11-2024 | Words: 7,429 | Rated E

Buck knows a lot of random trivia. Tommy falls in love with him one fact at a time.

okay, i know this the shortest thing on this list, but listen. where would we all be without this fic? there is a reason it's sitting pretty at 22k hits. could honestly be the origin of many of the fandom's core bt dynamic headcanons. a delightful, witty read that captures the early excitement of bt like lightning in a bottle.

awful quiet here since love fell asleep by @cecilyv & @liminalmemories21 [ao3 profiles x & x]

Published: 05-14-2024 | Words: 15,632 | Rated M

The Buck/Tommy break up/make up fic that literally no one was asking for but me. Things don’t always work out, the first time around.

"We'll be friends?" Because this is the right move, the smart move.

There's an expression he can't read that crosses Tommy's face, but then he nods, and sticks out his hand for Buck to shake. "Of course."

Buck hates it. But he made the bed, it's his to lie in. They shake on it.

the original break up fic. this is an amazing buck character study that honestly feels a bit prophetic in retrospect. i remember how i felt reading this, so heartbroken but so obsessed with the way buck navigated through understanding his own loneliness. it's absolutely joyful.

something ‘bout a boat by @swiftietartt [ao3 profile]

Published: 05-30-2024 | Words: 9,825 | Rated E

Tommy introduces Evan to his friends.

this is my one of my most cherished fics, i honestly cannot articulate how intensely i feel about it or do its brilliance much justice. begging you to read it if you haven't. to this beautiful author, should you ever write buck and tommy again, please know i will be first in line to read it. this story is charming beyond belief. this version of tommy is not one that you read about often, and i fucking love that. in this story, tommy is aloof but well-loved, has a delightful circle of true friends, and he has a fucking boat. there is not that much buck in this story, though he is omnipresent in a way. it builds and builds up to them finally getting to be alone below deck, and it's all the more delicious because of the wait. fabulously unique, there is really nothing else like it.

a full-body workout by @persiflager [ao3 profile]

Published: 07-02-2024 | Words: 7,901 | Rated E

When Tommy turns back to Eddie he finds Eddie giving him a knowing look. “Laundry and meal prep, huh?”

another one that is so carefully written that it feels longer than it is. one of the things i love so much about this story is the trio dynamic. the evolved friendship that eddie has with buck and tommy is, at least for me, best depicted here than anywhere else i've ever seen it. and, on top of that, there is just something so appealing to me about spending an entire day wanting to fuck so bad, but your friend is over so you've gotta practice patience. the anticipation that builds is really nuanced, it's truly a perfectly told slice of life.

the suffering of evan buckley('s sex drive) by @sugarpenchant [ao3 profile]

Published: 07-16-2024 | Words: 10,513 | Rated E

Tommy has been gone fighting fires for a month as vital air support, which would be fine—except for the fact that Buck has finally gotten a taste of sex with Tommy only for it to be cruelly whisked away. Buck finally gets his chance to join the firefighting efforts on the front lines and hopefully, someday before the world ends, ideally, he’ll get to see Tommy again.

There is a chance that Buck is being a little overdramatic about the whole thing, but a month is a really long time to go without the wonder of your brand new boyfriend.

posted for day 2 prompt of five alarm fest: after a dry spell

i need you to understand exactly one thing. this is the hottest fic ever. no like, this is the hottest fic i've read in years. buck, having just gotten dicked down for the first few times loses a summer of lovin' to a wildfire. tommy's on the frontlines, and what does buck do? he joins the ranks just for the possibility to be physically closer to him (and his dick). the world-building is fantastic for its length, particularly with the inclusion of lone star characters. when they finally see each other that first time, goddamn. the way they want each other but can't do a thing is a tease like nothing else. but where there's a will, there's a way. the fuck they manage to fit in between fighting the wildfire is a high that buck is able to ride (pun intended) for a while. i'm literally so addicted to this fic. erotic perfection.

knee deep in the passenger seat by @firstaudrina [ao3 profile]

Published: 08-08-2024 | Words: 9,039 | Rated E

What Buck liked best was that first thrill — a smile returned, a flirtatious joke — and then the heated next-next-next, all the things he still had to learn there.

aka Buck begins (in bed).

this ends with bucktommy, but it's a lot more than that and that isn't the draw of this fic. this is for the evan buckley lovers. this is like going to your favorite porn star's profile and watching a snippet of every single thing they've ever starred in. it's so good, it's so hot, it's so complicated. a great and very unique read.

bop it, twist it, pull it by @al-the-remix [ao3 profile]

Published: 08-14-2024 | Words: 21,642 | Rated E

“Hey!”

He doesn’t mean to yell, but Tommy still jumps a little beneath him. “Jesus, Evan, what–”

“You have a fucking dick piercing,” Buck half proclaims, half accuses. This is what Tommy has been holding out on all this time?

or

Buck discovers more about Tommy (and himself) through Tommy's piercings.

there's something about this fic that fits so perfectly into my fantasy of tommy. there's this punkishness about him in my head, and maybe that is a feeling that carried over from seeing pictures of lfj as a young, bulky, pierced scoundrel, but this story fits that image. super hot, a wealth of edginess.

fever's high with the lights down low by @kirkaut [ao3 profile]

Published: 09-07-2024 | Words: 11,731 | Rated E

No one has ever done this for him before. He didn’t even know how badly he wanted someone to do this - to think of him this way, to not only shoulder some of his weight but to want to - until this moment. Most people he’s dated have tended to give him a wide berth after a long, grueling shift, and he’d always thought that was what he wanted. It had been a little lonely, sure, but there wasn’t much he typically did afterwards that wasn’t refuel and rest.

Maybe he should have known better when it comes to Evan, who had jumped feet first into this relationship and never once looked back. Evan, who has worked these kinds of shifts himself and understands Tommy in a way that none of his exes ever have before.

Evan, who pours the love out of himself like it's as easy as breathing.

i remember reading this story for the first time. i was on vacation in a hotel bed, and i just felt so luxurious and indulgent getting to read this unbelievably hot, heartfelt story in utter comfort. it's the perfect analogy for how this fic makes you feel. it's pwp at its honest best.

engine purr by @epiphainie [ao3 profile]

Published: 09-16-2024 | Words: 15,010 | Rated E

“Oh! Yes. My car, my Jeep, I mean,” Buck said, gaze falling on the hands reaching for a rag. “It just sputtered and died on me right outside of town and there was no reception… I-I didn’t know what to do so I just… walked.” He swallowed and looked up again. “I thought I could call Triple A? Or maybe 9-1-1?”

The guy looked at Buck. There was a slight furrow to his brows, a tinge of bemusement in his eyes. The lines of his face were sharp and straight everywhere, but well-worn too, making Buck realize he was older than him by at least a decade and some change, if not more.

“That’s not for 9-1-1. And Triple A costs an arm and a leg if you don’t have a membership,” he said in a languid voice. “Lucky for you, though, you walked into this town’s one-and-only repair shop.”

buck takes a road trip before his new job, the jeep breaks down in the middle of nowhere, a small-town mechanic helps him out

my friend is a genius. okay full disclosure, au is not always my thing, and never my preference. i know that is a very unpopular opinion, but i think i am just very picky about it - but when it's done well, it can't be beat. this fic is fucking amazing and the age difference is a thing to behold. i always find myself so immersed in mimi's stories, particularly the dialogue. as i was reading this fic, i would find myself deep in one of buck and tommy's conversations and be so struck by how tangible and accurately articulated the characters are. in my own writing, i drag my feet over dialogue, never really knowing if something is too long-winded, or far too short. that happens to be mimi's strength, especially here - their conversations are perfectly paced, chatty, and true. beyond that, i could probably gush just as much over how hot the tension, build-up, and well-earned sex is in this fic. my fiancé called it the hottest bt she's ever read. by the way, even as i write this little blurb, my mind is saturated with images of tommy's apartment over his shop, and that is a true testament to the visceral and descriptive writing that is achieved here. i will wrap this up by saying i truly cannot wait until the next part in this story is posted! god, i love good writing.

in a yellow wood by @cecilyv & @liminalmemories21 [ao3 profiles x & x]

Published: 11-10-2024 | Words: 9,847 | Rated E

It’s been three years since the break-up when Tommy saves a family and it upends his life.

He’s paying more attention to explaining what the various levers and controls do than he is to what’s going on in the hangar and his head whips around when he hears a familiar voice saying. “Kam, the whole point of leaving my kid with you was to not take him to work.”

this is one of two break up/make up fics that i hold very dear. there are things that ring very true about it, and things that are legitimately haunting. they're apart for years - right from the jump, that is a sobering revelation. buck has a baby. buck doesn't look like he used to - his hair is shorter, he has a slighter frame. his life, his body, his world has changed. but he wears the maturity well, and he wears fatherhood well, and tommy wants in and he fucking earns a seat at the table. he earns love, he earns a family. it's a fucking beautiful rosy picture of what a future could be. it's so special, and so healing.

closet conversations by @eyesonstars-feetonground [ao3 profile]

Published: 11-12-2024 | Words: 10,599 | Rated M

Six months is a long time to stick around if he thought you’d dump him.

OR

After his boyfriend dumps him, Evan Buckley goes on a date, makes a new friend, has some conversations, and realizes he's queer. Tommy haunts him every step of the way.

this break up/make up is a triumph. very, very special to me. my favorite thing about this story is that it is a love letter to queer media and culture. this fic grabs one of the loosest threads of buck and tommy's canon relationship and pulls and pulls at it, taking a closer look at what it means for buck to date and fuck a guy for six months but not be able to correct some girl that he was on a date (for his six month anniversary, no less), or correct maddie that he isn't gay. it's one of so many things that deserves closer analyzation, and it's done so brilliantly here. buck and queerness go so, so well together - i am desperate for more carefully constructed analyses and stories like this one.

[mingtinysworld]

Shards of Lust

Pairing: Jeong Yunho x fem!reader

Genre: smut

Word count: 1k

Summary: you see your boyfriend sporting a new finger accessory and he notices you staring. He wouldn’t be a good boyfriend if he didn’t show you what he could do with it right?

Warnings: MDNI, fingering, sharp object included don’t actually do this irl

Network: @newworldnet

A/n: OK SO RIDKSJSKSK THE FINGER THINGS LIKE HELLO it’s actually been driving me crazy. I want to be fingered by him so bad like you don’t understand. Also sorry this was the shortest I’ve ever written💀 but hope you still enjoyed. Please like, comment and reblog ilyyyy. - J:)

You wake up groggily, slowly rubbing the sleep out of your eyes. As you sit up in bed you can see Yunho getting ready in the hotel mirror. He’s almost ready for the Coachella stage, just finalizing accessories and details. He looks very handsome in his black suit, looking like he’s ready for a business meeting.

You let out a sleepy sound and catch Yunho's attention through the mirror. He gives you a soft smile and you attempt to give him a smile back, even though your eyes are almost glued shut. You crawl to the edge of the bed and sprawl out, looking at him upside down.

"Good morning sweetie. Did you sleep well?" He asks.

"I guess. The time change is still messing with me though." You say with a pout.

"Aww baby, I know. It's alright, next week we'll be home and you can sleep in peace." He assures.

You nod along as your eyes graze over every inch of him. You observe the strange ring like accessories that he's putting on. He slides them on with ease and then flexes his hand in and out. You feel hypnotized and feel your eyes boring into the mirror. You unfold yourself from your pretzel form and go to stand behind Yunho.

You fit your chin against his shoulder and wrap your arms around his waist, breathing him in. He tilts his face downward and gives you a soft kiss on the forehead.

"Hi baby." He says gently. When you don't say anything and just freeze, he's concerned for a split second. He follows your line of sight and sees your transfixed stare on his hand. You're looking at the contraption that sits prettily on his index and middle finger with curiosity. It makes his hand look robotic almost, and the sharp tips glow menacingly, weirdly inviting in a way.

He watches you take it in, totally enjoying your reaction. He's pretty sure he can read your filthy thoughts at this point, from the way your breathing has stopped completely.

"You really love these, huh?" He asks with a knowing smirk. He wiggles his fingers, and you're broken out of your trance. You redden as you try to act normal, clearing your throat and making eye contact with Yunho.

"I-i mean I just think they're really cool! I've never seen anything like it." You trail off uncertainly.

He turns around to face you and grabs your elbows to guide you to the edge of the bed once more. He sits you down gently and crouches in front of you, looking up with sultry eyes.

"Do you want a demonstration?" He questions. You give him a quizzical look, mind completely blanking.

"W-what? A demonstration of what?" You ask with a nervous gulp.

He flexes his hand and looks down at it. "How this works. How it feels." He leans closer, his lips mere millimeters from yours.

"Please." You plead with a hushed murmur. You’re not exactly sure what you’re pleading for. His lips are finally on yours and he kisses you with a quiet intensity, stroking your exposed thighs. You hum into his mouth, enjoying the feel of his touch on your skin. He drags his hands up higher to the waistband of your shorts and tugs lightly. You get his message and lift your hips high enough for him to slip off the material. He takes your underwear with it, leaving your bottom half exposed. You wiggle a bit impatiently and he stills your moving hips with a firm hand.

"Now be good for me alright? I don't have much time so let's make the best of it." He reminds you of the fact that he has to leave for rehearsals soon. You stay still and anticipate what's to come. He spreads your plush thighs apart, strings of arousal stretching in between. He chuckles quietly to himself and moves even closer. He lays his whole palm against your cunt and you shudder from the feel of the cold metal against your most intimate part.

He moves up and down slightly, making you release shallow breaths. Still keeping eye contact with you, he slowly enters one armored finger. He goes slow as to not hurt you with the sharp tip, although you wish he would just destroy you. He gauges your reaction and is pleased when he sees you trying so hard to not squirm. He speeds up the force of his finger and you gasp and hold on to his shoulder.

"Another one please." You choke out.

Yunho looks at you concerned for a second, but immediately complies as he sees the state you're in. Your eyes are glistening with unshed tears and your mouth is making the most sinful sounds. He can feel his pants tightening with every whimper you let out, but his focus is totally on you for today.

He adds a second finger and you can feel the noticeable stretch instantly. His unforgiving pace makes you see stars and you clench around him, making him groan with gritted teeth. You squeeze his shoulder again, needing something to ground you. The cold metal drags against your walls and sharpens the tight feeling in your core. Once he hits your spongy spot you're done for. Your orgasm washes over you and you gasp from the intensity of it.

Yunho pulls his fingers out and sees that the metal is completely covered in your juices. Before you can stop him he puts the fingers in his mouth and makes a show of licking every inch clean. You groan in humiliation and throw yourself back to lay flat. He chuckles at you and grabs tissues to help clean you up. You stare at the ceiling and process everything. You loved the experience so much, wanting to do it all over again.

Once you're clean and clothed Yunho gets ready to leave, he kisses you goodbye and heads to the door. He gives you a silly finger wave and you wave right back, but before he can shut the door behind him, you hold it open and lean towards him and whisper.

"I think we might have to make that lil gadget into a regular occurrence."

[kowupt]

𝐂𝐎𝐎𝐋 𝐖𝐈𝐓𝐇 𝐘𝐎𝐔.. amusement park worker!no-eul x kindergarten teacher!reader written by @motoprincss ( ˶˘ ³˘(⋆❛ ہ ❛⋆)

pairing(s) : kang no-eul x f!reader

contents : fluff/comfort, no-eul wants you bad, drinking/alcohol, pills, getting drunk mentioned

synopsis : drowning in debt and grief, kang no-eul numbs herself with restless nights in her tiny black minivan, lost in a haze of chugging alcohol and chucking in pills. happiness feels like a distant mirage—until a dream shatters her despair.

amidst the chaos of her co-workers’ celebrations, she sees a girl bathed in golden light, smiling at her like the warmth of a long-forgotten sun. a fleeting dream, yet it lingers, stirring something within her.

the next evening, a breeze of familiarity brushes past her. the presence from her dream, stood before her. yet, in that moment, no-eul knows one thing for certain: you were meant for her.

wc : 963

taglist : @.saebyeokbliss @.lunaryoongie @.knfthxv @.monkey4lifer @.saebyeokiesworld @.we1rdth0ughts @.vigilxntesht @.bitchybananaflower @.wiltingconquest @.peelover25

(a/n) ENJOY THIS CUTE LITTLE THING!! one of my shortest works. (based on the prompt by @.karli6, "she's the girl of my dreams. no i've actually SEEN her in MY DREAMS.")

kang no-eul spends her nights packed in her tiny, black minivan. hacking and choking through the burn of soju and dry-swallowing pills, letting herself drown in the tide of her own thoughts.

her eyes would flicker close, drifting off to sleep, a distant place—one where reality couldn’t reach her, where the weight of her regrets didn’t exist. her conscious mind slipping into the quiet nocturne.

her dreams would always be the same.

filled with visions of her daughter, lulling back to simpler times where she could feel her daughter in her arms again, where love was tangible, her tiny fingers curling around no-eul's rough thumb.

but one night, something shifted.

no-eul's ears rang, the hum of artificial bar lights filled up her spotless mind.

her eyes were shut close, adjusting to the golden hue, however, a delicate, grounding laugh allowed her eyes to widen

a perceptive look appeared on her face, she felt a sudden need to know the source of the unfamiliar voice.

she whipped her head around, her frantic eyes scanned among the crowds, pushing through a wave of faceless, nameless people off.

she turned back, for her eyes to meet your twinkling ones, unfamiliar, yet arresting.

her breath hitched the moment your eyes met. an odd feeling rushed through no-eul, something cracked within her. she felt as if all her burdens, all her worries and fear that she has carried throughout all the years, they were lifted off the moment she laid eyes on you.

in a tavern full of people, she saw you. she has never seen you, yet she acted as if you were the most alluring person she's ever laid her eyes on, the world disappearing around her.

your teeth shined as you flashed her a grin, your words were muffled to her hearing, but she could see your heart-shaped lips move.

your hands intertwined with no-eul's, a jolt ran down her spine at your soft palm touching hers, your touch grounded her, her knees buckled.

your dressed flowed behind you as you both walked hand-in-hand, the fabric effortlessly hugging your curves.

you lead her through crowds and crowds of bar-goers, to a more secluded side of the bar. away from all the clinking of glasses and drunk thoughts.

you both took a seat next to each other in a small booth, wine red sofa curving over a sleek table.

all the color rushed out off her face once she felt your thumb stroke her knuckles, the ghost of your touch felt reassuring to her, providing a sense of comfort that no-eul has never been used to.

no-eul's mouth went dry, her lips part in disbelief, as if words were forming, but it never makes it past her lips.

her mind was clouded, thoughts were tangled, but not by soju, by you.

no-eul noticed that your cheeks suddenly gave off heat, the apples turning a hint of pink under the neon lights as you shyly smile when you looked at her, truly looked at her.

your lashes fluttered, your pupils dilate, bearing on to no-eul's dark eyes.

"i love you too.." your voice was barely a whisper, but no-eul heard it, loud and clear as day, and it felt like her heart was shot through by an arrow—sharp and unexpected, knocking out all the air that was left in her body.

like clockwork, she woke up.

exactly 5.00am

she's back into reality,

and you weren't there.

the next few days, no-eul's thoughts have been clouded with the mystifying girl she had met in her dreams.

she'd became so desperate for the stress-relief she had felt from you, the fleeting moment of peace, that her pass time would consist of her daydreaming.

reality has never been this cruel.

then came the dinner invitation.

a gathering to celebrate the amusement park’s recent success. no-eul hadn’t planned on going, but somehow, she ended up crammed into a high barstool, half-listening as her coworkers drank and laughed around her.

her boss, already deep in his beers, lumbered through the crowd, huffing as he clapped a hand on her shoulder.

"no-eul! i'd like you to meet my niece," no-eul's boss' voice boomed, his belly huffed and puffed with every word he exaggerated.

"she's been to the park quite a lot, given the fact she teaches in the kindergarten nearby, i fund their field trips now and then, but I never got around to introducing you two!"

no-eul lazily turned, her weary eyes trailed to the woman standing behind her boss, once she finally focused her eye sight, her gaze went blank.

the world around her dulled to static.

"you're.."

"nice to meet you, no-eul unnie. i was so excited to meet who was behind that adorable pink bunny mascot!" you bowed lowly, the sound of your silky laughter felt so familiar to the raven-haired girl, her eyes softened as she scanned your features.

all she could do at that moment was stare. to take in your presence.

you were here.

and you were real.

eyes alight with something knowing, something warm.

no-eul was able to flash a smile, a genuine, effortless one, for the first time in a while.

conversation between you two was able to flow smoothly like a quiet river, finding solace in each other, you both had a lot of things in common, sharing toasts and nibbling on pieces of barbecue.

laughter came easy, and for the first time, no-eul felt something other than exhaustion. she felt… at peace.

at the end of the night, when it was time to say lingering goodbyes, no-eul looked back at you for the last time, watching your figure strut away in the dim glow of lights.

it was made up in her mind,

it settled deep in her bones, certain and unwavering.

she was going to make you hers.

[thefreakandthehair]

grow where you're planted

written for ‘stuff’ | wc: 483 | rated: teen & up | tags: modern AU, no upside down, landscaper steve harrington, homeowner eddie munson, eddie munson & gareth friendship, confident!steve harrington, flirting, different first meeting @steddiemicrofic

“What is all that stuff?” Eddie mutters under his breath.

He’s alone in his shiny new shotgun house with no one around to hear his question but he asks it anyway because seriously— what is all that stuff? How much mulch does one Indianapolis front yard need?

A lot, apparently.

He keeps watching through the glass window in the front door as they slice open bags and pull plants gently from their pots. One of the landscapers, a lean guy who’s worked up a sweat with toned shoulders and moles that cascade from the side of his neck, runs his fingers through his hair. Dirt sticks to his temple as he bends down to plant something with yellow flowers beside the mailbox and Eddie wants to lick him clean.

“Jesus Christ,” he whispers to himself, yanking his phone from his back pocket.

Eddie: landscaper is too hot help Gareth: you brought this on yourself Eddie: there’s a guy in the shortest basketball shorts i’ve ever seen. like, 80s pin-up short. i’m in over my head Gareth: then go talk to him? Eddie: good idea, lets get all the bad ideas out now Gareth: i’m serious! Eddie: i pre-paid online for a reason, i can’t even look him in the fucking eye

Eddie looks up from his phone, intent to watch Shorts Guy from a distance only to find himself face to face with Shorts Guy through the offending glass window.

“Fuck!” He blurts, dropping his phone in the process. Please don’t be broken, he thinks as he tries to discreetly slide it aside with his foot and opens the door.

“Hey! Sorry to scare you. We’re all set,” Shorts Guy says with a smirk as he glances up and down from Eddie’s phone to his warm, flushed cheeks.

“Cool! Awesome!” His voice is about an octave too high– he clears his throat. “Looks great!”

“Thanks! If you’re satisfied with the work, leave us a good review. Goes a long way. And uh…” Shorts Guy does that thing with his hair again and Eddie might actually be sweating more than him now. “Maybe you can give me a call if you’re extra satisfied? And if your phone’s not broken.”

Shorts Guy nods to Eddie's discarded phone and what the fuck is happening right now? Eddie blinks and then shakes his head, grabbing his phone to find it blissfully still intact.

“All in one piece,” he says, turning the phone around toward Shorts Guy as if he needed to prove it. “I’d– yeah! Totally. I’d love to. Y’know, since it’s not broken and all that.”

Shorts Guy takes Eddie’s phone from his outstretched hand and saves his number as Steve. He texts Steve immediately, exchanging numbers and names before Steve’s even left the driveway.

Eddie: hey, it’s Eddie. extra satisfied. free this Saturday?

Gareth is never going to let him hear the end of this.

doubling up with a microfic and a gift for @starrystevie! happy birthday, bee!! here's some confident, sweaty landscaper!steve harrington for you! <3 I've been thinking about it for days and couldn't stop myself. love you!! have the best day!!

[omgsecretsecret]

Whistle me to sleep

Pairing : Hwang Hyunjin x gn!reader ; established relationship

Genre : fluffy fluff

Word count : 466 (the shortest thing I've ever written lmao)

Warnings : none, really. It's just incredibly sweet and cute

Author's note : I have like a thousand things in my drafts and I need to finish the part 2 of Sweet Fuckboy but here I am with this little thing that I wrote in one evening 🥲 ; thanks to my lovely friend @giddyfatherchris for helping me proofreading it ; inspired by this video but with the first picture on top in mind for Hyunjin's hair ; the pics on top are not mine, credits to the owners

Tag list : @giddyfatherchris & @0omillo0 <3

Masterlist

◍｡⁠•⁠ ⁠ᵕ⁠ ⁠•⁠｡◍

"Hyunjinie !" You call your boyfriend, already in your bed under the soft cover. You're all set up to go to sleep, pajamas on, teeth brushed and face clean. Only one thing is missing, and that is your lovely boyfriend.

You hear soft footsteps and then the little click of the door closing and you look up to see Hyunjin approaching you. He looks like a sweet puppy with his bareface and buzzed blond hair. You smile almost giddily as he gets under the blanket next to you, tucking it under his arm and propping his head on his palm to look at you fondly.

"Whistle me to sleep." You simply grin, said almost more like an order than a question, but it only makes him chuckle. You've been asking him that ever since you found out that he is the one who whistle in Grow Up. It's like he's lulling you to sleep, except he's whistling instead of singing. You wouldn't be opposed to him singing you to sleep, you'd love that actually and sometimes even randomly ask him to sing for you, but somehow whistling makes you feel like you're in one of those cliché movie, when it's the end and everything's okay again.

Hyunjin doesn't lay down completely, looking down at you with so much love it almost makes you blush.

"Anything for my baby.." He smiles, bringing his hand to your face and gently stroking your cheek. He takes a deep breath and the first notes of one of your favorite songs soon fill the room. You close your eyes and let your mind wander, picturing this exact same scene in a few years, just as domestic and sweet but when you're a little bit older.

You hear some shuffling next to you, and the mattress dips a little as Hyunjin settles next to you. He hasn't stopped whistling, only taking brief breaks to breath in. You reach out for him, eyes still peacefully closed, and he moves a little closer, letting your hand land on his head. You relax a little more as you run your fingers through his (very) short hair. It's so soft, you think to yourself, it's just like petting a puppy, and you chuckle at the thought. Hyunjin looks at you curiously, amused and fond as he keeps whistling for you.

"It's nothing. I was thinking about your hair, how it's just like caressing a puppy." You explain and he mirrors your happy smile.

He pecks your nose when he reaches the end of the soothing melody, your eyes fluttering closed automatically. You wiggle closer, resting your head on his chest and wrapping one arm around his waist as he holds you with his arm around your shoulder.

"I love you, baby. Good night.

— Sleep well my love."

◍｡⁠•⁠ ⁠ᵕ⁠ ⁠•⁠｡◍

do not repost, translate or rewrite without my written authorisation

[blessedbucky]

ℙ𝕒𝕣𝕥 𝕍𝕀𝕀𝕀

pairing: autistic!satoru x suguru x autistic!reader

word count: 8.9k (this actually might be the shortest i've written to date)

summary: satoru has been naively thinking that his world hasn’t been on the edge of collapse for a long time.

tags: autistic!reader, autistic!satoru, not sure if it's suicidal ideation or what since suguru wants to die for what he did to reader, definitely probably some unhealthy codependency because everyone here is a teenager going through traumatic shit, uhhhh let me know if there's anything else but I think those are the big ones, hurt/like minimal amounts of comfort, gojo is disgustingly in love please help my boy he's struggling with his depressed s/o's

beautiful people who asked to be tagged 💕: @ichikanu, @iceheartsice, @anders-is-being-a-simp-again, @lexlibrary, @ziggy0stardust

author note: really wanted to write the fallout of the last chapter in satoru's pov, like how it goes in canon. not sure if it's my own depression on some fuck shit or a genuine struggle, but i got stuck in the middle of the chapter. i really hope it has the emotional impact that i was going for. i was channeling my depression here since my annual seasonal big sad is coming up. brains are great (:

Story Masterlist

[YEAR THREE]

[PART THREE]

No, I don’t know who you are. Should I?

It’s stupid. You’re stupid. No, that’s mean and unfair. You don’t deserve that. Satoru is the stupid one. Him and his traitorous heart that had fluttered like some blushing maiden when you completely dismissed his identity up until that point, ignored his immense strength that anyone with a shred of cursed energy could feel, and treated him like an actual human. Do you even know how much time he spent hunting down an exact replica of those cheap sunglasses you offered up to him during that first meeting? After Suguru broke them when he was punching Satoru in the face?

Yeah, Satoru is a moron. Because he’s happy that he hadn’t learned Reverse Cursed Technique yet and that Shoko had been away long enough that his nose would never sit totally right ever again after it was broken. Just like your sunglasses, his crooked nose is another reminder that two country bumpkins have rocked his shit so wholly that it’s kind of insane.

That night had been embarrassing and confusing. He hadn’t been able to stop pressing against the tender bridge of his nose, making pain shoot across his face. When he closed his eyes, all he could see was Suguru standing over him with sharp, furious eyes and bloody fists. All he could feel were the phantom touches of your soft yet unflinchingly steady fingers on his cheeks and chin. Never an ounce of hesitation from either of you when it came to Satoru. He’d rocked against his mattress, coming way too many times for him to ever admit. The second time that he’d touched himself to the thoughts of you two.

People have always been terrified of Gojo Satoru and his unfathomable strength. Little do they know that he’s no longer the strongest sorcerer in the world. He hasn’t been since the morning after his seventeenth birthday when he woke up in the early dawn, your head weighing down his chest, Suguru’s breath warm against the skin of his neck, and Satoru thought, I love you. Because he worships the ground that you and Suguru stand on. If either of you came to him and asked him to burn the world down, he’d do it. The only thing that held him back from blowing up a room full of batshit crazy cult followers is because Suguru told him there’d be no meaning in it.

But Satoru is still the same boy god as he’s always been. Thinking that his strength alone will be enough to protect himself and everyone else from problems. Pretending that plastering a smile on his face and never taking anything seriously will be enough to infect everyone else. Forgetting that his childhood of being raised as a weapon has dulled his sense of what’s horrifying and what’s not.

Naively thinking that his world hasn’t been on the edge of collapse for a long time.

No. That’s not totally true, either. Because he’s noticed. He sees everything, right? He’s been with Suguru on his trips to buy cigarette packs, becoming increasingly frequent. Satoru’s wondered, more than once, if Suguru is smoking more than eating these days. The bags under Suguru’s eyes and yours are getting darker. The windows and doors of your rooms have been locked more than ever before, a silent warning that you’re not up for spending the night with anyone. Both your tempers are shorter, especially with each other. He doesn’t think you’ve ever shrugged off the touch of others as much as you are now.

In the back of his mind, Satoru has known for a long time that you and Suguru are not okay, but he looked away. That’s his biggest sin. Because he’s been afraid that if he accepts that, he’ll have to accept that it’s because you and Suguru are not cut out for the lives of sorcerers, and that would mean you’d have to walk away from this world.

You’d both have to walk away from him.

This has been his blue spring. That’s what the adults call it, isn’t it? At some point, his spring turned to autumn without his realizing it. Now, he faces the daunting reality of his love turning into a brutal, deadly winter.

“…huh?”

It’s the middle of the night and Satoru has literally just walked into his dorm room when Suguru calls.

He doesn’t understand, at first. It’s hard to when the connection is in and out. There’s so much static. And between all that, Suguru isn’t making any fucking sense. He’s incoherently babbling. And Satoru prays that he’s wrong, but it sounds like Suguru is crying. Satoru thinks that he hears your name in there somewhere, making his stomach twist. There aren’t many reasons why Suguru would be this upset, but Satoru is trying to make Suguru calm down enough to explain.

“…hurt…so much…blood…blood everywhere…sorry, so sorry…”

“Please…need you…Shoko…get here…”

“…Squid…dying…”

Fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck. Satoru remembers the prefecture that Suguru mentioned he was going with you to. Sensei would have more specific information on the village in his office, right? A primal panic, one that he’s not felt since last year, fuels him to flicker across campus. If he can get near the village, he’ll be able to sense someone’s cursed energy. He tears Sensei’s office apart, trying to find where he keeps mission details.

As soon as he’s got the location, he’s honing on Shoko’s energy, and then he’s there. Next to her bed. She’s still awake, hunched over some medical textbook. She yelps when he snatches her by the upper arm. He’ll apologize later for the rough treatment, but all he can think is Sketch is dying, Sketch is dying, Sketch is fucking dying.

“Run Reverse Cursed Technique,” Satoru demands as he physically prepares himself for this trip.

“What? Why? Where did you even come from? Why are you in my room—”

“I haven’t teleported with anyone.” He’ll also apologize later for making her his first guinea pig. If it’s going to be someone, though, it’s good that it’s the person who can heal herself. “I haven’t even taken myself more than a prefecture away.” This is going to hurt.

Shoko’s voice pitches higher with panic. “What the fuck is going on, Gojo?!”

“Sketch is dying. Start healing yourself.”

Satoru doesn’t even give her the chance to start running it.

Those are Suguru’s residuals.

Wrong. That’s wrong.

Those are Suguru’s residuals.

For the first time in the course of the Gojo clan’s history, the Six Eyes are wrong.

Those are Suguru’s residuals.

They have to be wrong.

Or…Satoru is overthinking it.

There has to be another explanation for why, buried deep in the gash across your torso that’s almost a mirror image of Satoru’s own scar, Suguru’s residuals linger. Suguru is crying and drenched in your blood because he wasn’t able to help you in time. The cursed spirit that did that to you was absorbed by Suguru after the damage was done.

That’s not how that works.

“What happened?” Shoko asks in a tone that Satoru has never heard out of her before. He tries to find his voice, tell her to shut the fuck up, because he knows what she’s thinking. The way that she’s curled over Sketch’s body, body tense, cursed energy flaring with emotion gives her away. “Suguru!” Shoko shouts, trying to reach him through his tears. “Tell me what happened to her!”

“I’m sorry.” Suguru hunches over. Digs bloody fingers in the dirt. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry—”

“Why are you sorry?”

Satoru knows the truth. He does. It’s the reason why it feels like the world is about to slip out from under his feet. He wants to shut Shoko up because he doesn’t want to hear the truth. When Suguru, through his tears, manages, “I didn’t mean to,” Satoru wants to cry with him. There’s no stopping it now.

“What didn’t you mean to do?”

Suguru’s next cry is gut-wrenching. Satoru is trembling, more terrified than he’d been staring down the sharp edge of Zen’in Toji’s blade. “I didn’t mean it, I swear. I’m so sorry. I’m sorry. Please, believe me. I didn’t mean for it to happen—”

Shoko, the stone-faced judge, has no mercy for either of them. She demands the truth, no matter what hell it’ll bring. She says your name, knowing Suguru can’t deny you your justice. “Did you hurt her?”

Satoru, the unintentional jury, has to witness Suguru become his own executioner when he chokes out, “Yes.”

A crack splits Shoko’s indifferent mask. Twisting her body around, she stares at Satoru with wet and shining eyes. “Goddamn you, Gojo,” she curses before quickly turning back around toward you. She ducks her head, but he catches the stray tear roll down her cheek before her hair fully hides her face. “You didn’t even give me time to get my smokes.”

The more time that passes where Satoru is forced to stand there, unable to do a goddamn thing for you or anyone else here, the more that he has to wonder what the worth of his strength even is.

Because, right now, it’s nothing.

His eyes have never left you after Suguru’s confession. He doesn’t think that he can face the implications of that yet. It’s so slow, the rise and fall of your chest, but he can see how rapid your pulse is under the delicate skin of your throat. Even from his vantage point and in the low light, he knows your skin is clammy. And the gore. It’s not like he hasn’t ever seen the result of a cursed spirit attack. He thought he was desensitized to that. But…things are different when it’s like this.

Guess this is what people mean when they talk about things hitting close to home. Seeing you there, your skin all torn open, blood so red…it makes him sick. His stomach has never rolled quite like this, not even when he was blearily watching his own skin stitch itself back together after getting shredded apart himself. He’d been…detached before he was totally healed and then the overwhelming euphoria poured in.

There won’t be any of that for you, he realizes. If Satoru is on the end of the emotional spectrum where he struggles to pinpoint feelings—even in himself—then you’re on the other side where you get it all. Your heart is too big. Always bleeding. Sitting there on your fucking sleeve, getting stabbed at by everyone and everything. Is this what you feel like all the time? Satoru’s brain is struggling to comprehend it all.

Aah, this is what it feels like to be weak, he suddenly understands. And he remembers how he’d felt it when that spear pierced his Infinity, right before metal sunk into flesh and he had to focus on survival. There was nothing he could do then and there’s nothing he can do now. This sucks, he thinks with the corners of his eyes stinging. No wonder you’re always undermining yourself and saying you’re weak.

How can you think you’re strong when your heart is always bleeding?

Nails digging into the skin of his palms, blood trickling through his fingers, he tries to think about anything else. He doesn’t want to cry. He never wants to feel like this ever again. He never wants anyone to feel this way again, actually. If he could go another day without ever having to hear your gut-wrenching cries when you were in the morgue with Haibara’s body or hear Suguru tonight, then he’d trade his soul away. He’d give his strength away. He’d pluck his eyeballs out and throw them to the highest bidder.

How can he do that, though? Satoru could throw his Infinity around your bodies, but it won’t protect your hearts. The two of you would never let him whisk you away to Kyoto and hide you away from the world forever, as much as he desperately wants to do that right now. Part of the reason that Satoru and every-fucking-one else loves you idiots so much is because of how fucking kind you are.

For some reason, Satoru thinks about that day near the start of the term, under the cherry blossom tree. This just isn’t a sustainable system, you’d said. I wonder how many Special Grade sorcerers there have actually been, but they just couldn’t reach their full potential because old men sent them off to die.

If he can’t make your hearts stronger, then he has to make everyone else stronger.

Satoru knows what he needs to do now.

The settling of Shoko’s cursed energy has Satoru lifting his head. It’s taken a lot of strength out of her. The healthier you look, the worse Shoko does. “We need to get back to campus.” Her hands are trembling, and she drops back on her ass, trying to catch her breath before she’s forced to move. “She’s stable now and I can take care of those kids back at school. I need to eat before I do, get my calories up,” she adds. “You didn’t hurt me on the trip here. Do you think you will hurt us if we go as a group?”

Right. The kids. They were hidden in the bush when Satoru and Shoko got here, but seeing Shoko healing and Satoru’s inaction must’ve been enough to coax them back out. They’ve been beaten. Satoru wondered, briefly, if they were the catalyst for what set Suguru off.

One of them, the one with dark hair, whispers your name. “She’s gonna be okay now?”

“Yes,” Shoko answers softly. “And so will you when we get back to Tokyo.”

“You’re…you’re Miss Shoko…right?”

“That’s right. I guess she told you about us?” The girls nod. “You know our names. What are yours?”

“Mimiko,” the brunette answers.

The other, the blonde, steps beside her sister and takes her hand before introducing herself as, “Nanako.”

Shoko nods in acknowledgement, slowly rising to her feet. “Okay. Well, Satoru over there knows how to move between places,” she explains while pointing over at Satoru. “He’s going to take us back to the school we go to. For people like us.” The girls nod again, eyes alight with understanding. “Don’t be scared. You’re safe now.”

“We’re not,” Nanako mumbles. “She told us we didn’t have to be scared with Mister Suguru around.”

Suguru had calmed down, his sobs quieting to silent tears, but hearing the kid say that has him hunching back over and covering his face in shame.

Shoko watches him, lips pressing into a thin line. “Take those kids first, Gojo,” she orders lowly. A complete turnaround from her earlier decision for them all to go at once. “It’ll be less of a strain on your body and ours. Do it in batches.” It’s a bullshit excuse. Right now, he’s scared of her. Those healing hands of hers can so easily become weapons. He’s seen it before. And, sure, she normally wouldn’t be a threat to Suguru, but there’s no fight left in him. “Now.”

In the end, though, she’s still right. There was no strain on her on the trip here, but he sure as fuck felt it. While future trips tonight will be easier in the fact that he has the two landing points in his mind, adding more people would ramp up what reprieve that gives. It’s more cursed energy, more brain power, more finely tuned control to keep the other bodies all in one piece.

What other choice does he have?

Satoru leaves the kids in his room. It’s comfortable, you’ve told him as much. He marches to Nanami’s room, but he’s already opening the door of his room when Satoru gets there. Apparently, the sudden absence then reappearance of Satoru’s massive amount of cursed energy woke Nanamin up. Satoru is in a rush, so all he can do is demand Nanamin watch the girls while he goes to get you because you got hurt.

Then, between one blink and the next, he’s back with you, Suguru, and Shoko.

The only hint that something happened between Shoko and Suguru is a dark mark on Suguru’s cheek and his split lip. Also, she’s got a lit cigarette in hand—probably stolen from Suguru. Satoru has never given thought to smoking. He’s never really seen the appeal, but he thinks he does now. Especially when Shoko beckons him over and he knows that he’s going to have to carry you on the second trip back to campus.

Bile rises to the back of his throat when he carefully lifts you up in his arms. He’s never been squeamish until he’s had to touch your blood-soaked clothes before. It’s disgusting and now, it’s sinking into his clothes. Satoru hates that. He knows you hate it, too. Wet clothes. You hate being sticky even more. It’s why you’re always so careful when you eat desserts with him. He hopes you blacked out as soon as you were hurt. He doesn’t want to think about you having to lay there, pained by more than the gashes themselves.

“Gojo will be back, Geto,” Shoko explains as she grabs Satoru’s upper arm since he can’t hold on to her right now. “Don’t you dare try to run. If I found out you tried, I’ll do a lot worse than punching you in the face.” To Satoru, she says, “Drop us off at my room.”

When they land and Satoru has gently placed you on Shoko’s bed, he collapses next to it, needing to catch his breath and run his own Reverse Cursed Technique. Not only has he gone the furthest he’s ever warped, but he’s done more trips than ever before, too. There’s still one more round-trip that he’s got to make. There’s a strain on his muscles that he’s never felt before. There’s a blossoming pain behind one of his eyes.

Shoko starts rummaging around in her pantry for something to eat. “I have some protein bars. You should eat one, too.” She throws one over her shoulder when she finds the box and he catches it without looking and pockets it. He’s pretty sure he doesn’t have the stomach for much right now. “Clean him up when you get back. Burn his clothes. We need to hide the evidence.”

Satoru bristles. “Stop treating him like a criminal.”

“Take off the rose-colored glasses and stop being naïve,” she snaps back. “You heard him.”

“Yeah, and he said he didn’t mean to. It was an accident—”

“Hurting her? Yeah, I believe that. It’s what led up to it that’s the problem.”

He stumbles to his feet, still glaring at her. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Geto just doesn’t lose control like that,” Shoko hisses before pointing at you. “She wouldn’t be hurt by one of his spirits unless he wanted it. He has to give them specific orders, you know that as well as I do. Maybe he didn’t intentionally have it attack him, but if he was pissed off enough, if he wasn’t careful enough with his order, then a spirit would consider her a threat.”

“Shut up.” Satoru wants to put his hands over his ears like a child. He’s in denial. She’s making sense, but he doesn’t want to admit that because it feels like acceptance. If what she’s saying is true, it doesn’t matter if he accidentally hurt you or not. If he was acting out of anger towards someone else, he’d be branded a curse user and there’s only one person strong enough to kill Suguru. “Have you forgotten who you’re talking about? The guy always riding on his moral high horse?”

“Stop pretending you’re both the same people after last year.” She presses the heels of her palms against her eyes. “Just leave me alone. I can’t deal with you right now. I’m saying that we don’t know, but you need to be a fucking adult and think about all the possibilities here. Also, you’re such a selfish asshole. Do you think I want to think about this? No. That’s why we’re hiding the evidence from Yaga.” She whispers your name. “If we had Suguru declared a curse user before she’s awake, it’d push her over the edge.”

Satoru feels less…panicky than before. He backs down. Glances at you while he asks Shoko, “What’s the story?”

“My residuals have covered up evidence of his on her,” she whispers. “Suguru got there too late. It’s why he keeps blaming himself. Any idiot at headquarters knows how close they are, so it won’t be hard to convince them that their relationship is what’s got him so hysterical.”

“Okay,” Satoru answers as quietly. “What—” his voice cracks. “What do we do if she wakes up blaming him?”

“That’s not something we can answer for each other, Gojo.”

“Explain yourself, Suguru.”

Just like Shoko said, Gojo Satoru is a selfish asshole. Somewhere between Shoko’s room and here, with Suguru, rage overcame Satoru. Because Suguru ruined everything. Instead of trusting Satoru or even you enough to talk about the things bothering him, Suguru let everything fester.

(But you didn’t, either, a nastier part of his brain reminds him.

Is there something wrong with Satoru?)

Suguru hasn’t moved. He’s still there, on his knees, staring blankly at your blood left behind in the grass. It’s like Satoru doesn’t even exist. It pisses him off more. What? Does Suguru think he can give up? He thinks he can sit around, crying over what he did to you, while everyone else has to clean up his mess? No way. Fuck that.

“Why?”

“Huh?!”

Suguru still hasn’t looked away from the place your body had been. “Why does it matter? I hurt a fellow sorcerer. That’s all you need to know, isn’t it?”

Satoru grits his teeth. “Why the hell are you being so vague now? Ten minutes ago, you were apologizing for hurting her!”

While saying your name hoarsely, Suguru reaches out to dig his fingers in the bloody grass. “I didn’t mean to. I didn’t. But those…those goddamn monkeys…that’s who I wanted to hurt.” He squeezes his eyes shut, tears falling no matter how hard he tries to keep them from doing it. “I hate them, Satoru. All our suffering is because of them. They create curses. We exorcise them. Over and over until sorcerers die. First, it was Riko. Then, Haibara. When will it be you? When’s it going to be her on a metal slab?”

Under the weight of all this suffering, the anger quickly rushes out of Satoru. No, it’s still there, but he’s so stupid mad at himself for not seeing how bad things have gotten. He pretended that everyone else could separate themselves from their pain like Satoru has always done. He loves you. He loves Suguru. Why couldn’t he just see how much you two have been hurting?

Satoru doesn’t know what to do with all this sadness. He sprints forward, dropping and sliding in on his knees right in front of Suguru. He throws his arms around Suguru’s shoulders and Suguru seems to almost resist. He clenches his fists around the fabric of Satoru’s shirt. Then, he ducks his head down, pressing his head against Satoru’s sternum, trembling and giving another one of those sobs that’s just a gut punch.

“I wanted them dead. It was all I could think. I want them all dead. I want us to have a better world. I would start here. But I made the order too vague when I summoned them. I wanted to kill all the monkeys in this goddamned village and anyone that tried to stop me. She wasn’t even in the way. She said my name. She said, ‘Suguru, stop,’ and that was enough. They knew her because I know her, but I was so blinded by my rage. It was like nothing else existed but that.”

“It was an accident.” Satoru cups Suguru’s face with his hands, trying to get Suguru to look at him, but Suguru won’t budge. “It was an accident, Suguru. It’s okay. Look at me. Just look at me. It’s gonna be okay. We’re already figuring out how we can cover it up.”

Suguru just cries harder. “I can’t live like this, Satoru. Exorcise. Absorb. Exorcise. Absorb. Swallowing their shit. I want a better world, but I can’t do that, either. Because the people at the end of that road, standing in my way…it’s gonna be you and her.” He gives one sharp, hysterical laugh. “The people that I’d be doing it for, the only two fucking people that I love enough to make the world better for are the people that I’d need to hurt to get that utopia. How fucked up is that?”

“We’ll fix it,” Satoru whispers desperately. “It’s okay. We’ll figure out a way to fix it. The three of us, we can make this world better together.”

“Kill me, Satoru. Put me down. I’m begging you. I can’t live in this cycle anymore.”

“Stop! Stop it. Don’t you fucking ask me to do that.” Suguru finally loses the strength to fight Satoru’s hands. When Satoru lifts his face up, he goes. “Just listen to me. We’ll come up with a plan. We can make this world better together the right way. But you can’t give up on us. Me and Sketch, we can’t lose you. We can’t.”

“You don’t need me.” Satoru’s heart skitters in his chest when Suguru reaches out himself, hand on Satoru’s cheek. “I’m not good for either of you anymore. I can’t go back to being the person I was before.” Satoru shakes his head. He refuses to accept that. Suguru is the one holding Satoru’s face in his hands now, trying to make Satoru see his light. “You’re the best for her. I know you love her as much as I do. Take care of her. You can forget me and live a happy life together.”

“I can’t. I’d never be able to forget you. The only future I can see is one with Sketch and Suguru.”

“I don’t have a future anymore. I’m sorry.”

“I can’t accept that and neither will she.”

Suguru laughs bitterly, pulling away from Satoru completely. “Even now, after everything that’s happened, you’re still so damn arrogant, Satoru. What are you going to do if she wakes up condemning me? What will you do, then? Is the strongest sorcerer going to impose his will on her, too?”

“No! I’d never do that!”

“So, if she asked you to, will you kill me?”

“She wouldn’t!”

“I betrayed her,” Suguru whispers. “Weren’t you listening to those girls? I heard her say it myself. You never have to be afraid when Suguru’s around. Suguru is going to protect us all. She’s always trusted me. She wanted to leave all this pain behind, and I asked her to stay. I’ve been actively drowning her, but she couldn’t see it.” There’s a defeated slump in Suguru’s shoulders. “And neither can you, Satoru.”

Satoru doesn’t know what to say. He’s never been good with words. Not like you. But he does know that when you wake up, you’ll understand what Satoru does. You’ll say something along the same line as Satoru when he tells Suguru, “You’re hurting.”

“My pain doesn’t matter. I did what I did, and I need to be punished for it. I still believe in that. Justice.” Suguru stares Satoru dead in the eye before declaring, “I’m going to confess.” His features soften. “I know you’ve got a gentle heart, Satoru. You don’t need to worry. I’ll stick my neck out willingly so that you’ll never have to choose between me and her.”

When Suguru leans forward to press a chaste kiss against Satoru’s forehead, right over that tiny scar left behind last year, Satoru realizes that, yeah, maybe he is a little gentle. Because that gesture alone is enough to break him.

Satoru didn’t know what else to do with himself after everyone kicked him out—Shoko, so she could wipe away the blood and re-dress you, and Sensei, who needed to talk with Suguru about the details of what happened. He showered, desperate to be clean, but it’s like your blood left a stain on him even when he’d rubbed his skin raw. He put on one of Suguru’s hoodies because he’s broader than Satoru and the sleeves will cover his hands. He can’t look at them right now.

The sun is rising when Sensei tracks him down where he’s sprawled out on a staircase. He’s got a lit cigarette in one hand. Sensei has always been pretty good on keeping his habit on the low, wanting to be an excellent role model for his students, but even he has his limits, Satoru guesses.

“Suguru asked to be put in one of the cells.”

Figures, Satoru thinks bitterly.

“Should I?”

“You’re actually asking me that?” Satoru mumbles, no energy left to put any heat behind it.

Sensei sighs, as mentally exhausted as Satoru is. “My bad.”

Satoru straightens from where he’s been hunched over. After everything tonight—last night…something opened up in him. He’s got to stretch himself beyond the little world he’s cultivated. It shouldn’t have come to this, but he’s got a really shitty personality. He’ll always have one, probably. But he’s willing to learn now. It can’t be about him anymore.

“Sensei, I’m strong, right?”

“Yeah, brazenly so.”

“But apparently, it’s not good enough for just me to be strong.” Sensei’s a good dude. He listens. Doesn’t tell Satoru that he’s a dipshit for not realizing this sooner. Satoru throws Sensei a bone and says it for him. “Sorry, old man, for being a dumbass and not listening sooner.”

Sensei takes a drag of his smoke. “Don’t apologize to me for being a teenager. If anyone’s at fault, it’s us. The adults. The weight of the world shouldn’t be on your shoulders.”

“Not only on mine, though, is it?”

“No,” Sensei admits quietly. “Adults are forgetful. Not only do our days pile up, but so do our regrets and fears. With all that, it’s hard to remember that there was a time when we weren’t used to the weight of others’ lives on our shoulders. It’s just another one of those burdens that we carry.” He finally stoops down to sit next to Satoru. “At the end of the day, you’re all children. And to a child, it really is like having the world on your shoulders.”

“I know my shoulders can handle it, but…that’s only those of us that are born into it. Most of the school’s enrollment comes from scouting, doesn’t it?” It’s not only your face and Suguru’s that flash across his mind. It’s Nanami, too. Haibara. “We’re not giving anyone else the time to strengthen their shoulders, y’know? There’s not much fostering going on here. And that’s not a diss on you. No offense or anything, but you just don’t have the strength to keep us all safe enough to get that thick skin.”

Sensei exhales a cloud of smoke. “I know I don’t.”

“It’s not like we can add more teachers, though. Not enough out in the field to spare. But…hey, you ever read Fullmetal Alchemist? Nah, probably not. What about an ouroboros? Heard of that? It’s like this snake that eats its own tail. That’s us right now. Kids enlist and get thrown to the wolves before they can fend for themselves. Most of them die, so there’s few to go out in the world. Even fewer to stick around and teach. And that cycle goes on and on.”

“I agree.”

“We gotta break it.”

“I know we do, but how?” Satoru turns to stare at Sensei who is, in turn, studying Satoru in the same way. There’s this familiar spark in his eyes. Satoru thinks he’s seen it before. “You said it yourself. There’s not enough of us.” Oh. Wait. Yeah, Sensei is asking these pointed questions because he knows the answer already. He’s waiting on Satoru to figure it out himself. “How do we change things?”

Satoru knows what he needs to do. Last night, he knew that he needed to change things. But he understands how he’s going to do that now. “Make someone like me a teacher.”

A large hand suddenly drops on top of his head. “You’re going to be terrible at it,” Sensei whispers. He’s no longer looking over at Satoru, but he ruffles Satoru’s hair. “I look forward to working with you in the future, Satoru.”

Shoko crashes when everyone’s healed. Took those kids with her to bed.

Suguru…he’s holed up in his room when Sensei refused to put him in a cell, no matter how bad Suguru wanted it. The old man said that until you, the victim, corroborate Suguru’s story, there’ll be no imprisonment. Satoru asked Nanami to keep an eye on Suguru. Not that Satoru thinks he’s going anywhere. It’s like the fight left Suguru as soon as Sensei denied his request.

Nothing else for Satoru to do but keep vigil at your side. He’s seated on the floor next to your bed, cheek pressed against the mattress. He doesn’t do anything else. He doesn’t think he could focus on a game or manga or anime right now. Shoko’s always told him that Reverse Cursed Technique can do a lot, but it can’t wipe away the emotional weight of an experience. He can refresh his brain all he wants, but not his memories.

Before she went to bed herself, Shoko warned Satoru that this could break you in a way that you can never come back from. If they thought it was bad after Haibara’s death, this’ll be worse. Because it’s piled on for you. The incident with the Zen’in, the death that you blame yourself for, and even if Suguru didn’t hurt you, this is the closest you’ve come to death.

You can’t do what Satoru does—disassociate from the trauma. There’s no Infinity for you to keep people at bay when they start to close in on him the way all those fly heads had. If you’re scared the things that haunt your dreams, you’ll have to face it because you can’t wipe away the need to sleep with a technique. For the last two weeks, he’s watched you try to train yourself to smile, to try and distract yourself away from the thought constantly pressing in, but you’re not built for that like he is.

With every passing second, it gets harder and harder for Satoru to resist the urge to grab you and Suguru and flee to Kyoto. All he wants to do is protect you both. More than anything, he wants you to be happy. Neither of you have to be sorcerers anymore, he’d make sure of it. It doesn’t wear him down like it does you and Suguru. Or…maybe it does, but you two make it better.

It doesn’t take much for Satoru to be happy. For him, it’s as simple as the scratching of your pencil against paper. It’s the slide of Suguru’s fingers against the pages of his books before he flips them. It’s a gentle breeze that floats through your room when you open the window to get better lighting, carrying away the smoke of Suguru’s cigarettes. It’s the sunlight on his face and the press of your shoulders against his as you all lay on a blanket in the park.

Satoru doesn’t want to be lonely anymore.

As if between one blink and the next, the press of a hand on his cheek is pulling him from his doze. His vision is blurred when he opens his eyes, and your thumb is wiping away one of his stray tears.

You’ve rolled on your side to face him. There’s nothing on your face. Nothing in your eyes. It’s like your body is moving on autopilot. And none of that changes when he reaches up to return your gesture except that the breath in your chest shudders before tears roll down your own cheeks.

Satoru sees it for what it is. A war inside yourself—one side desperately trying to flee from the memories and emotions that come with them. Your body betrays you, though. Tear after tear slips from your eyes and soon, your bottom lip wobbles. You squeeze your eyes shut. Wordlessly, your hand moves down, fisting the fabric of his shirt, and you start tugging while shifting back on the bed to make more room.

“In the bed?” Satoru checks quietly.

You nod fervently in answer.

Satoru crawls up into bed with you. Your hands are greedier than they’ve ever been. He tries to be careful to not overwhelm you with touch, but you yank his arm to drape it over your waist so you can press yourself fully against him. You tremble in his arms, on the edge of collapse.

Right before you bite his shirt to muffle your gasps, you confirm what he’s known all along.

“Suguru hurt me.”

“Come again?”

You don’t repeat yourself, instead staring at Sensei with those lifeless eyes.

Sensei stares you down, waiting for words that aren’t going to come. He glances over at Shoko and, when she looks away, he then moves to Satoru. All Satoru can do is shrug helplessly. It’s not like either of them can make you talk. Satoru wouldn’t want to, anyway. He’s shocked you’re talking at all. This is the most you’ve spoken since you woke up two days ago. You haven’t had the energy for it…

Or anything else, for that matter. It’s been keeping Satoru up at night, stealing what little sleep he was getting before. It’s worse than it was after Haibara. You’d been a shell of yourself, but…you ate. A little. Once a day. Now…it’s like you’re a ghost. Shoko had threatened to pour some toxic sludge posing as a protein shake down your throat. She’d been so frustrated with you that she grabbed your chin, and you just gave her the same look as now. Not defiant. Not upset. Just…nothingness.

There’s not supposed to be smoking in the dorms, but Sensei lights one, anyway. “Explain what happened, then.”

“I wasn’t ready.” Your voice cracks from disuse. “The Grade 1 hurt me.”

“Suguru said it was under his control.”

“Not before it hurt me.”

Sensei presses a hand against his forehead, sighing. “Why would Suguru confess to something so serious?”

“Because it’s who he is. He’s upset he didn’t get there fast enough.”

For a long time, Sensei stares at you. “I need you to understand that our laws aren’t like normal ones. There’s no decision on whether or not to press charges against someone for a crime against you. If he hurt you, jujutsu law requires you to report that. If the official investigation results find that you lied to cover for him, you’d be charged as an accomplice and sentenced to death alongside him,” he explains carefully.

“I understand.”

“Good. So, knowing that, do you want to change your answer?”

“No,” you reply with no hesitation whatsoever. “Suguru didn’t hurt me.”

“There’s most likely going to be an official investigation.” Sensei is trying to get you to change your mind because he thinks it’s going to save your life. He knows you’re lying. Everyone that knows you and knows Suguru knows you’re lying. Suguru would never confess to something like this unless he actually did it. “I won’t be allowed to interfere.”

“Suguru didn’t hurt me,” you declare with an air of finality.

It’s a few days after you told Sensei your side of the story. Privately, Sensei confirms to Satoru what they all knew would happen. There’s going to be an official investigation. There’s no way they’d let something like this slide. The higher-ups are terrified of Suguru. Maybe more than Satoru. Satoru is a familiar threat. He’s a one-man army. But Suguru…as long as he’s alive, there’s no limit to how many strong his army can be. So, if there’s a chance that he’s gone off the rails, they’ll put him down. And you’ll just be collateral damage. You were always replaceable. A pet project. Nothing more.

“For the time being, you’re off assignments,” Sensei says to Satoru when he’s on his way out the door. Satoru glances over his shoulder at Sensei. He’s looking away. “You’re to keep your eyes on Suguru until the investigation is over.”

Satoru scoffs bitterly before leaving Sensei’s office without another word.

Shockingly, you’re not in your room when Satoru goes looking for you. You’re at the edge of the forest that they use for the Goodwill Event. Just sitting down in the grass, legs crossed, staring intently at some low-level cursed spirits who’d been lured to the tree line by your presence. He plops down next to you, ready to do the same thing he’s done since you woke up which is to be a steady presence.

“What do you see when I use my technique?”

Satoru is so startled by the sound of your voice that it makes him jump in place a little. His head snaps in your direction, but you never look away from the forest. “Uh…what?”

“Last year, when I influenced that old man…you said it was like there were two of me. It was like it was something you’d never seen me do before. But how was that different than what I do with a cursed spirit?”

It’s a weird thing for you to ask, but he’s desperate to hear more of your voice, so he tries to explain it. “Oh. It’s…normally, it’s kinda like…eh, a blanket? Yeah. When you pacify spirits, it’s like a blanket getting put over them. More than Suguru’s contract that looks like chains on them. With that geezer…” He hums. It was close to the blanket, is the thing. “It was like an infection, I guess. It was like there was this shot of your energy through his brain and it seeped through everything else. Does that make any sense?”

Your brows are knitted together in thought. “Yes,” you whisper after digesting all that. “Why is it different, though? What is my pacification but just another way to order a spirit around?”

“Maybe because the pathways are all different?” He crosses his arms over his chest, thinking about this harder now. “Spirits are just huge lumps of cursed energy. Cursed energy in sorcerers has a whole network to go through. Yeah, if you think about the shape of it, that might actually be why. Blanket for the lumps, an infection of sorts for sorcerers.”

You nod slowly. “Why do you think I didn’t have a brain bleed when I influenced Zen’in Ogi?”

“It could be a few different reasons, but the main one is probably time. The point behind this school is to hone your technique, y’know. They don’t really have a Sorcerer Biology 101 class, but our power grows as we do. You kind of peak after your body is done growing. Everyone, though, has this explosive burst of power when they hit puberty that lasts through the rest of your body’s development.”

“I’m still in sorcerer puberty?”

Satoru laughs a little. “Yeah, I guess that’s the best way to put it. It’s like your body is in the home stretch. C’mon, Sketch, I know you’re not dumb. You’ve noticed that your technique has developed over time, right? Why’re you asking such an obvious question?”

“But you said there were other reasons,” you remind him.

“It’s not obvious? C’mon, think about the basics here. How emotional were you? You were the angriest I’d ever seen you when you broke that geezer’s hip. How were you with Zen’in? Also, Zen’in Ogi loves to act like he’s hot shit, but he’s nowhere near as strong as he thinks he is. That guy never would’ve cut it as the head of the Zen’in. That higher-up is the stronger of the two.”

“But…you’re stronger than all the higher-ups combined, right?”

“Duh.”

“Do you think the action itself can cause more strain on me?”

“Huh?”

“Does it expend more energy for me to force an action than force a thought?”

“Oh. Probably, yeah. The Inumaki clan are like that. The more damage they cause to their opponent with their cursed speech, the bigger the blowback on the sorcerer themselves. It’s all about balance in sorcery.”

“Right.” You sigh softly. “I wish I had as much cursed energy as you.”

He rubs his ear absentmindedly. “You’re already halfway there. Once you pierce that barrier inside them, it’s really just a waiting game from there. You just need to finish letting your cursed energy flow through them.”

“Easier said than done. That’s probably where most of my energy is burnt up. If only there was a way to infect them faster…”

“Too bad you’re not like a snake or a spider and can just inject yourself in their veins, huh?” You don’t respond to that. You duck your head, staring down at your hands in your lap. Satoru doesn’t want you getting lost inside your head, so he tries to redirect the conversation. “How’d you like my explanations? Good? I’m gonna be a teacher, so I have to start working on that kinda stuff, right?”

You raise your head, turning to him with raised brows. “A teacher?”

“I’m gonna change things,” he swears. “Last year, when you said this system isn’t working, you were right. But there’s never been anyone strong enough to shake things up, not until me. What if that’s because of what you said? They were never allowed to grow before they died. The future needs someone strong enough to protect them, to let them grow. I’m gonna be that person.” He nods to himself. “I’m never letting anything like this happen ever again.”

For the first time in a really long time, you smile. It’s that small, genuine one that does what it’s always done—make his heart skip a beat. “You won’t be alone.” The back of his neck is getting warm. Why didn’t he bring his stupid sunglasses so he can obviously look away from you? Why can’t he stop blushing, damn it? “Let me be your spy on the inside. They’ll probably ask me to work at headquarters. I want to help you, too.”

As much as you hate dealing with people, that’d be the best course of action for you. It keeps you in this world, but you’re out of the line of fire. And…he doesn’t think you could cut it as a teacher. Kids are still going to die. Not as many as now, he hopes, but he knows the higher-ups won’t be happy with him. They’ll work to keep things the way they are. He can try his hardest, but he can’t be everywhere at once. You’d get too attached to the students. It’d break you.

“I’m going to make things right, Satoru,” you insist.

“You make it sound like it’s your fault.” Satoru leans sideways, his head butting against the top of yours. “Besides, the one in charge of fixing everything is me, isn’t it? It’s alright, Sketch. You don’t have to worry about things right now. I’m gonna figure something out. I promise that nothing else happens to either of you anymore, okay?”

The evening before the unofficial trial, when the sun is setting, you ask Satoru and Suguru to meet up with you. It’s at your favorite koi pond. The one where him, you, and Suguru named each fish. There’s a stone bench that you’re already seated at, posture straight and stiff, facing away from the pond. There’s a determination in your eyes that he’s been watching grow from an ember to an inferno over the past week. With that fire, though, is an edge.

“I know I don’t have any right, but…I’m glad you reached out,” Suguru admits softly. “I wanted to see you,” he adds again, even quieter than before. “Just one more time.”

There’s a bitter twist to your mouth. Before you rise to your feet, Satoru watches with a sinking stomach as that iciness forms in your gaze. Suguru flinches backward. Satoru resists the urge to do the same. No matter how mad you’ve been at them, you’ve always forgiven them. Were you finally pushed too far? Is what Suguru did unforgiveable to you?

“We both go, or we both stay. You remember when you said that, right?”

Suguru ducks his head. His shame never lets him keep it high anymore. “I do.”

“You’re as selfish now as you were then.” It’s not said as an accusation, no anger behind it, but it’s got Suguru hunching in on himself, anyway. “I keep finding myself here. Having to decide your future. If there’s anything I resent you for, it’s that. It’s worse now because it truly is life and death.”

“I’m sorry. I know it means nothing, but I am.”

“What about you, Suguru? Is there anything you resent me for?”

Satoru knows the answer even before Suguru confirms it with, “No. Nothing.”

“You will,” you whisper cryptically. “Do you remember the rest of that day? What happened when we made up? I told you what scared me most about coming to Tokyo. I don’t want you to leave me behind when we get there. Remember that?”

“I’m breaking that promise, I know. I’m sorry.”

“Are you?” Your words sharpen. “You keep saying that, but you begged me the other night to change my mind. You keep doing that. Wasn’t it enough hearing the first time that I didn’t blame you? Do you care that little about me? I don’t want your blood on my hands.”

Suguru sighs your name. “I need to be punished.”

“Shouldn’t I be the one to decide that?”

“You don’t want to punish me. That’s the problem.”

“Who says I don’t?”

The tension in Suguru’s shoulders loosens and there’s relief on his face for a moment before he straightens to his full height. He’s serious about receiving your punishment. He’s happy, too. Satoru feels stuck between you two. This…it’s your right, but…but he’s scared to lose you both.

“What is it? I’ll do anything.”

“Live.”

Suguru’s brows furrow. “What?”

“I’m making you do the thing that you clearly don’t want to do. I’m forcing you to live. You’re going to live with what you’ve done and you’re going to learn to live with non-sorcerers. I won’t make you stay a sorcerer, but I’m not letting you die. I’m not living in a world without you in it.”

He barks out a sharp, harsh laugh. “You can’t guarantee that, Squid.”

“I already have.” You raise a hand. Satoru had noticed a bandage wrapped around your palm last night, but you’d brushed him off like it was no big deal. That bandage is gone, showing a jagged gash. “I’ve already influenced them.”

Satoru’s stomach drops. Stupid. Stupid, stupid, stupid. He should’ve asked more questions when you came back so exhausted from headquarters after they called you in to give your official statement. You’d told him that you wanted to study some cursed spirits, clear your head doing something you like. “What did you do?”

“It was easier than I thought it would be,” you start slowly. “All it took was a cup of tea. They trusted me too much. They trust us all too much, honestly. They left the kettle unattended. They didn’t look at the water before they let their tea steep. None of them noticed my blood in the water.”

“Blood?” Suguru repeats incredulously. “What?”

“I needed a quicker way to get my cursed energy flowing through them. I’d already tested it on the pencil pusher that drove me to headquarters. Coffee hides the taste better. It was harder with him than it was the higher-ups. Orders require more energy. It was just suggestions with the higher-ups. It took, though. They agreed.”

“Agreed to what?” Suguru asks hoarsely.

“You and I are going to make a binding vow. If a non-sorcerer should ever die by your hand, I die with them.” That look of horror on Suguru’s face is mirrored on Satoru’s own, he knows. “Even if they eventually realize that I influenced them, I doubt they’ll do anything. It’s a perfect deal. I’m a hostage. Neither of you would risk my life.” You pause. “That’s if you agree to the deal, of course.”

“I won’t,” Suguru spits.

“You will. Because if you don’t, I’ll tell them what I did. I’m an accomplice now. Binding vow or not, if you die then I die. You forced my hand.”

Suguru’s hands slowly ball up into fists. They’re clenched so hard that he shakes. You’ve trapped him. You’ve saved his life and he’s furious about it. This was the best possible outcome and Suguru has never looked so betrayed. “I will never wear a heartfelt smile in this world.”

“And I can never live in a world without you in it,” you state just as bluntly.

Tears well up in Suguru’s eyes. “For as long as we both live, I won’t forgive you.”

“I know. I’m doing what you wanted me to. I’m deciding what to do with your life. But I understand. I’ve accepted the risk. I’d rather you resent me for the rest of our lives than watch you die.”

“You’re cruel.”

“No crueler than you.”

[spnjediavenger]

MWE

Title: MWE

Type: one-shot; matt murdock x sister!reader

Warnings: none! Just pure sibling fluff! Some run-on sentences

Spoilers: none

Notes: i wrote this in the midst of writer’s block so please be kind 🙃

As always, love and/or constructive/friendly criticism is welcome and encouraged!

Disclaimers: i do not own daredevil, its characters, or plot

Word count: 617 (pretty sure this is the shortest thing i've ever written lol)

“Matt, give it back!”

The aggravated shouts of a teenage girl and laughter of her older brother rang through an apartment in Hell’s Kitchen, New York. While Y/n cherished time with her brother, she found herself second guessing that when he decided to mess with her. They were currently in Matt’s room, the lawyer holding Y/n’s phone high above her head; and though she wasn’t that much shorter than him, it was still high enough that she couldn’t reach it.

“Why? You weren’t texting anyone right? So what’s the matter?” Matt said, unable to keep the broad smile from his face.

Briefly gripping her hair in her hands, Y/n huffed at him. She jumped, fingers just skimming her phone. After failing again, her brother laughed more. Biting back a smirk at what she was about to do, Y/n lunged at Matt’s middle, wrapping her arms around him, trying to tackle him to the ground. But she really should’ve known better than to try and fight Daredevil. Even if it was play-fighting.

Matt let out an ‘oof’ as Y/n’s shoulder made contact with his abdomen, hunching over a bit. He couldn’t help but smile as Y/n pushed against him, ultimately not even succeeding in making him move an inch. Turning his smile into a smirk, Matt pocketed her phone, bent over, wrapped his own arms around her, and flung them both backwards onto his bed, Y/n flipping over him and onto her back, resulting in an honest to gosh scream. After the shock was over, Y/n turned her head to look at her laughing brother situated behind her, jaw dropped.

“I can’t believe you just flipped me!”

“Hey! You were the one that attacked me! I was just defending myself,” he chuckled.

Y/n chortled and jumped up, turning on the bed to face Matt again. He was ready for her this time, though, and swept his feet under her, making her fall back down. The younger Murdock lunged and Matt let her knock him over, both of them laughing now. Matt positioned his feet at her hips and gently but firmly pushed up to throw her over his head once again, making her land on her back again, the impact making her bounce a couple times.

“Stohop doing that!” she said, failing to sound angry through her laughter.

“It’s not my fault you can’t keep up,” Matt laughed back, flipping around and landing over top of her.

Y/n bit her smile back and wrapped her legs around his waist, flipping him to the side. She knew Matt let her do it but neither of them said anything. She quickly tried to grab her phone she saw falling out of his pocket but he grabbed both of her hands and pushed them behind her back, making her groan.

“Not bad, you almost got past me. But still too slow for big bro.”

Y/n let out a big groan, throwing her head back. “That was bad. That was really bad,” she said.

“Not as bad as your love messages to Parker.”

“They’re not love messages!”

“But you were texting Parker though?”

“I-...Stop lawyering me!”

Y/n broke her arms free and pushed at Matt’s shoulders.

“Ok, ok, we don’t need to start this again,” Matt chuckled.

“It's the MWE - Murdock Wrestling Entertainment,” Y/n giggled. 

Matt laughed. Shaking his head, he held Y/n’s phone back to her, smirking as she snatched it up and walked out of his room, panting lightly. 

“Maybe you should have Spidey teach you some self-defense so you actually stand a chance next time,” he called after her

“Shut up!”

“Love you too!”

[etherealyoungk]

— ✦ etherealyoungk's 2024 rewind!

i saw this going around so i thought i'd hop onto it and do a little appreciation post for 2024! this is going to contain my top fics, some stats, goals for 2025 and a little paragraph for all my lovely moots on here <3

— top three posts this year!

into the night - jeon wonwoo (with 1918 notes)

sugar & spice - jeon wonwoo (with 1536 notes)

new beginnings - jeon wonwoo (with 1287 notes) honestly didn't think people would like this concept so much haha and not all the top three being wonwoo fics lol.

— longest fic of 2024:

sugar & spice - wc: 29.2k

— shortest fic 2024:

wonwoo fluff drabble - wc: 438

— an unexpected fic in 2024:

love between the lines - chwe vernon (wc: 12k) i genuinely really enjoyed writing this fic. vernon isn't a member i write for often or find a little hard to write, so this was a nice challenge. i honestly don't thing i'd ever have written a long fic for vernon if it wasn't for the collab and i'm so glad i joined and wrote this because i had great fun with it and really happy with the outcome + seeing so many of you guys enjoy it makes me always happy ^^

— some of my fav reads:

tell me that you love me pt 1 & pt 2 by @wheeboo one of the best fics i've read this year honestly this was tooo good like THE joshua fic so everyone go read this right now.

what's wrong with secretary kim with soonyoung by @xinganhao this was the cutest fucking thing i've read and i need more ahhhhhh kae your work is top tier i love it sm.

rates of change by @wqnwoos hana i'm literally in love with you and your writing and ths fic was the cutest thing ever i adored every word and ate it up.

ex-conomics by @ugh-yoongi oml this fic was so fucking good i read it in one go on my bed and it was such an emotional rollarcoaster but you wrote it so well everything was just so so amazing one of my favs for sure.

here and now by @writingmeraki babe im in love with your spy gyu couple im not even kidding when i say i go reread this often like i love it so much okay and i love you.

burnt promises, second chances by @slytherinshua omg zanna please this fic it was so good you wrote it so so well i just loved everything about this and the concept was so cool too!

— milestones in 2024

writng an almost 30k fic bc that is insane to me i never thought i could do that but im so proud of that fic.

hitting 4.5k followers just before the year ends! that's honestly insaneee. i adore each and everyone who reads my work and leaves reblogs and feedback.

joining collabs and doing a collab for the first time was so new but also so exciting for me. hopefully in 2025 i can do more.

— goals for 2025

finishing all my incomplete wips!!! i really really want to finish all the wips i started and left hanging skgjsg bc they were really good ideas and i wanna put them out in the world for you guys to read as well!

try to interact with you guys more? i feel like i don't enough.

— a word to my mutuals <3

to all my mutuals i love and adore you guys so much and i still can't believe i'm actually friends with some of you insane guys i love yall so much and i love this silly little family i have on here, it means the world to me <3

@wheeboo rania i love talking to you and love how i can just come in your dms and be delusional and bounce off ideas with you. i love talking to you about anything and everything. you're seriously one of the best writers and i can't wait to see where 2025 takes us.

@fairyhaos yenaaa my love! i love talking to you and you're the sweetest and your fics are always so so good. i miss you but i hope you're doing well and taking care and uni isn't too hectic. always thinking about you fondly and sending hugs mwah mwahh

@writingmeraki pri the loml my wife i love you so so much. i love how became moots bc of this one post of yours and after that it's history and i just love talking to you about anything and how we just talk about anything and everything <3 i just love us so much. mwah mwah mwahhhhh

@strawberri-uyu nico my love! our convos are honestly the best and i miss you and i hope you're doing well and taking care of yourself bubs <3

@paindivinemp3 my dear maria! you're the sweetest soul ever and i love talking to you about life and things and it's always so nice to talk to you, it always feels like i'm talking to an elder sister 🥺 sending much love <3

@wqnwoos hana i literally adore you and your writing so so much and you're the sweetest kindest soul mwah mwah ily <3

@gyuswhore you're the coolest moot! you're so so talented, an amazing person and just the coolest!!

@jeonsupershy kashii i love talking to you about day6 and seventeen and i adore your gifs they're truly amazing and im so glad we got talking.

@ylangelegy kae omg i love your work it's so good especially your text imagines im in loveeee and plus i know we only started talking but it's so nice to meet another myday and carat and hopefully we talk more!

@gyubakeries tiyaa i love how you text me on discord and we have the most funny convos.

@fxstpace aspen omg new moot but you're so much fun to talk to i hope we talk get to talk more.

and all my other lovely moots that i adore: @blue-jisungs @slytherinshua @kyeomyun @hannyoontify

@weird-bookworm @lvlystars @icyminghao @cheolhub @rubywonu

if i missed anyone im so sorry but just know you guys are so loved by me!

@reikaryu @husbandhoshi @welcometomyoasis @babyleostuff

@odxrilove @holdinbacksecrets @husbandhoshi @naaaaafla

[jazlynriddle-legacy]

Let's Go, Together

Summary:

What if Anne arrived a little later in the catacombs? What if she didn’t see Sebastian kill Solomon? What if she wasn't overcome with rage, piled upon grief? You watch helplessly instead, as the twins go to meet fate, hand in hand.

Warnings: Death, major character death, angst, depression, suicide, bittersweet, tragedy. Like, my partner read this and went "this is some Romeo/Juliet-esque shit right here", seriously, don't read this unless you're ready for the possibility of crying.

You can also read on AO3!

Notes:

So, this is probably the shortest oneshot I've ever written, I'll explain in the notes where it came from, but this came out super damn smooth, like, bam, under two hours and barely any editing needed. Getting this out was like the smoothest diarrhoea ever, complete with painful cramping.

And, whoooo! It’s finally come, the day that my notes are actually longer than the fic itself. Aha ha ha… goddamnit. Though, I’ll admit that that’s because half the notes are me ranting about the argument that got this churned out to begin with. So, I apologise to anyone who came in thinking the fic is 5k words, half of that is notes and they wouldn't fit in the notes category. I'm sorry! OTL

Also, fuck me, I only have a week left before my deadline and the next chapter of It's My Own Design is still only half done- ToT Being in an argument makes it hard for me to regulate and get into my writing, it's already over but I'm still feeling its effects... sigh hopefully getting this out will make me feel better...

You watch as the wand falls from Sebastian's fingers, he's staring at his hand like it's betrayed him. You're about to speak, to ask him what the ever-loving fuck. When the Inferi nearby swipe at you and you can't simply continue watching his stunned form.

“Sebastian, look out!” You shout, casting Incendio at the Inferi around you, the flames licking across the hems of your robes. “Snap out of it!”

This isn't the time to be horrified. Not yet, anyway. Not while the living dead continue to attack, uncaring of the absolute shit show of a disaster that has taken place here.

You spare a moment to cast a Confringo at one of the skeletons coming up behind Sebastian, but he takes a blow from another, which jostles him from his stupor, and he finally seems aware of his surroundings again. You kick his wand to him, Inferi first, you can slap him later.

He quickly scoops up his wand and resumes fighting. Without Solomon attacking you alongside the Inferi, without Sebastian being distracted trying to solo Solomon, the two of you sweep up the remaining Inferi with your usual efficiency and teamwork.

All too soon, the cavern is quiet once more, save the panting from you and he. Charred bones litter the floor, covering almost every square inch, but you have no interest in them, because Sebastian has gone still, staring at his uncle's body once again.

“Sebastian... what have you done...” You breathe, you don't know what to do, how to react, nothing could have prepared you for this. For him to do this.

Sure, Solomon had been coming at you with terrifying anger, even hung you in the air and petrified you - as the Inferi slashed at you - threw Confringos at you, ignored your pleas for him to stop, to stop making things worse. But this... the Killing Curse, you're not sure whether Sebastian was trying to protect you or just taking his anger towards Solomon too far.

Maybe it was both? You pray it was both. His outburst on the mountain still feels uncomfortable, even if he apologised for it. If you pissed him off enough, would he kill you too? You watch Sebastian sink to his knees by his uncle's body, reaching out with shaky fingers to touch the hardening skin.

“U- uncle?” He murmurs faintly, and you know the answer. He wouldn’t have. Sebastian is just as shaken by his actions as you are.

You have to mean it.

You swallow, yeah, you'd meant it too, when you threatened to abandon Sebastian, when he was being a prick on the mountain. Didn't mean you wouldn't have felt awful about it afterwards, if he made you feel like you had to, if he pushed you into that corner. Didn't mean you wouldn't hate the consequences, didn't mean you wouldn't miss having your friend by your side, as you fought against Ranrok. Alone.

You take a step towards him, but you don't know what to say, and the sound seems to jostle him from his daze.

“In- inferi.” Sebastian mutters, pushing himself to his feet unsteadily and taking several steps back, turning away from the body with a hand over his mouth. He looks like he's seconds from vomiting. “We- we can say the Inferi did- did- this.”

“Sebastian...” You frown, he's doing it again, closing his feelings off and trying to think with his brain alone.

“Please-” He gasps, knowing that you're about to... actually, you're not sure what you're about to say or do, but whatever it is, you don't get to.

“Sebastian?” Anne's voice reaches your ears, and both you and Sebastian stare at the doorway, in varying degrees of horror.

“A- Anne-” Sebastian moves, as though wanting to cover Solomon's body from her view, even though he must know he cannot possibly do so in time.

You see her expression change the moment she spots Solomon. With wide eyes, she staggers towards him, slowly at first, disbelief on her face, and then she's running, stumbling and falling mere steps away. Sebastian quickly darts forward to catch her, but she throws his arms off and collapses to the floor, dragging herself across the stone to kneel by Solomon's cold corpse.

“No- no no no- Uncle?” Anne touches Solomon's face frantically. “Please, uncle-”

“He's- he's gone.” Sebastian pleads, practically begging her to stop. To stop making him regret what he's done. “Anne-”

“Why- how-” Anne gasps, tears spilling from her eyes in rivers as she clings to the man's body.

“I- Inferi- they- they got him.” Sebastian answers, giving you an entreating stare, like you were a deity that he was praying to for salvation.

You are at a loss for words, there hasn't been enough time for you to decide if you will go along with his lie. And it is a lie, an outright lie. He's told many half-truths, used misleading language and implied things that weren't true, kept secrets - just as you have - but this is his first baldfaced lie.

“Why-” Anne continues before you can decide, turning to look at Sebastian. “Why did you do this? Any of this...”

“I-” Sebastian stammers, you've never seen him so speechless.

“I'm not worth this.” Anne sobs and Sebastian immediately kneels, grabs her by the shoulders and shakes her.

“You are!” He declares, it sounds like a demand and a plea in one, and he's crying now too, more desperately than you ever imagined the cocky boy could. “You are! I- please, Anne, I can't live without you.”

He touches her face gently, tenderly, despair dripping from every word. “You can't say that. I- I need you. You are worth it. You... you have to be.”

He's hanging off her shoulders now, sobbing harder than even she had been, and she watches him with empty eyes.

Defeated, resignation in the slump of her shoulders, in the flatness of her expression. It hurts to watch.

She slowly raises her hand to touch his wet cheek, speaking gently. “You need to let me die.”

“No!” Sebastian practically screams, grabbing his head between his hands and you instinctively raise your wand. He's going completely off the rails, and you're worried about what could happen, what he might do, but he only continues wailing. “I can't, I need you! Anne, I can't live without you! Don't leave me, please, please stay, just- just stay... I'll do anything...”

He grasps her hand, gazing into her face, his eyes red and frenzied, and she swallows, before closing her eyes in acceptance and sorrow.

“I know... but I can't.” Anne whispers, and before his face can harden into anger, she touches his cheek with a sad smile. “So... let's go. Together.”

His entire body freezes, and you freeze too. Surely, she can't be suggesting-

“I can't- I can't let you hurt anyone else, but I understand now.” Anne gives a bitter laugh. “I was wrong to think I could just... set you free.”

He chokes on a sob, placing his hand over hers.

“I'm sorry, I'm so sorry Sebastian. It's okay.” She smiles beseechingly. “I know you don't mean to, and you would hurt too, wouldn't you? If anyone else gets hurt. If Ominis or...”

Anne gives you a glance and you jolt in place. She was serious!?

Incredulous, your eyes flicker to Sebastian, who is also staring at you now. He's wearing a complicated expression, and you're not sure which you see, fear, relief or regret. Perhaps it's all of the above.

Your heart clenches, was that why he didn't tell you when he was going to test the relic? Because he didn't want you or Ominis getting hurt if it went wrong? Because he wasn't willing to sacrifice anyone beyond himself? Was that why he seemed so eager to show you that he'd mastered the relic without a sacrifice?

Was that why his control over the relic hadn't been complete? He was so clever, it would be Sebastian who'd manage to make the relic work halfway, without even paying the price for its services.

Anne turns back to Sebastian, her voice firm. “So, come with me. I won't leave you behind to suffer.”

He returns his gaze to her, eyes wide - like a lost child - and she presses a kiss to his forehead. “We can find a quiet peaceful place, we'll spend our last days there, and then we can go. Together.”

Stop. You want to say, you want to step forward, to stop this madness, but something holds you in place. Is it shock? Is it fear? Is it because... you can't see any other option either?

Sebastian stares into her eyes, and you watch. It's like watching the most beautiful, serene, and tranquil... horror play, enacted before your very eyes. A small smile of relief spreads across Sebastian's face, and he nods.

Anne leans forward to press their foreheads together and the twins close their eyes.

“Born together...” Sebastian whispers, like a prayer.

“Live together...” Anne's smile and voice are tight and watery.

“Die together.” Sebastian breathes and something in you snaps.

“Wai-” You step forward, the word barely out of your mouth, as the kneeling twins and Solomon's body vanish with the crack of apparition, and you shout. “No!”

But the cavern is empty now, nothing but you in a sea of bones, as your shout echoes down the hollow tunnels.

You stand in shock for several moments, before panic sets in and you scramble for the doors, bones clattering loudly as you kick them out of the way. You barely manage to reach the exit without stepping on a fibula and twisting yours.

The cold evening air hits your face when you emerge from the catacomb. It's bracing, but you have no time to enjoy the fresh breeze.

With a single deep breath, you take off towards Feldcroft at a sprint, if they leave the village, you don't know where they might go. You're desperate to stop them, wishing you could apparate too. You barrel through bushes, leap over rocks, stumble as you run.

The dimly lit hillside stretches out before you, and it was only a matter of time before you tripped over something. The dirt hurts, grains lodging themselves under your fingernails, but you push yourself up with trembling arms and throw yourself forward again.

The sound of them disapparating replays in your ears on repeat. The blissful smile on Sebastian's face, the peace on Anne's, flashing through your mind.

Tears bead in your eyes, and you pray to any celestial being listening that that will not be your last image of them. You feel like the pain in your chest may never fade if it is.

You're out of breath when you arrive at the Sallow residence, and you cast your gaze about frantically, hoping to see them, but all you find is Ominis, leaning against the rock fence behind the cottage. The blind boy is bathed in the last rays of the setting sun, staring distantly with something clutched in his hand, and you rush over.

“Ominis! Have you seen Anne and Sebastian!?” You gasp out without much thought, before your eyes settle on what seems to be a freshly dug mound on the ground near him, and a tombstone that reads ‘Solomon Sallow’. A sinking feeling bears down on your shoulders, settling heavy in your gut.

A bitter, hysterical laugh, almost painful in its grief, rips from Ominis’ throat. “No... but they- goodbye... they said goodbye.”

His cheeks bear streaks of tears and he whispers brokenly. “I- I couldn't stop them...”

No pit in your stomach has ever hurt this much, you cover your mouth and stumble to the side, catching yourself on the same fence. You want to vomit, your heart hurts, they hadn’t even said goodbye to you.

“Sebastian- Sebastian gave me this...” Ominis murmurs, holding out the item in his hand, a rolled-up note. “For you-”

His words choke in his throat, and you take the parchment with trembling fingers, you feel like the same lump is in your throat, as you unroll it to read.

I'm sorry, I wish I could say goodbye to you. But I know you wouldn't let me go. So, this must suffice. Our time together has been short, but I have cherished every moment, and you will always have my gratitude for being by my side.

I have no right to ask anything of you. After everything, you would be well within your rights to hate me. You and Ominis believed in me, and I let you both down.

But please, please take care of Ominis for me? And for Anne. Don't let him be alone. I don't want him to follow us. You know how to talk to him, better than I ever did. Be there for him, like you were for me.

Please. Humour my selfishness, just one last time.

Your friend, Sebastian Sallow

P.S. Help me burn Salazar's journal too. I no longer need it, and Ominis was right. I did end up regretting it.

Your knees hit the floor and your fist slams against stone. Pain shoots up your arm, but it doesn't compare to the pain in your heart. That fucking prick. That selfish - selfless - fucking idiot.

You hear a sob leave Ominis and he slides down to sit beside you, his expression is the most broken you've ever seen. More than in the Scriptorium, where he'd seemed more afraid than anything else. Now, he looks as though a stiff breeze could rip him apart.

You lean into him and wrap your arms around him, letting him cry into your shoulder, as you do his. Taking comfort from each other, and mourning the tragic twins who'd come to mean so much to the two of you. Those two bright souls, searing in their intensity - in their love - burning everything they touched, and then burning out like a wisp on the wind.

Alright. Alright, Sebastian. I'll try my best.

You never see them again, but you can't forget how powerful and beautiful love can be, and how painful a curse it can also be.

Maybe, hopefully, they are finally at peace.

Together.

Notes:

I tried to write this from the perspective of the average player rather than my own, because I know there's a lot of people who didn't react the same way I did during the game, and I wanted to sort of guide the brain (of anyone who relates to this response), to the conclusions I came to after analysing the game.

The reason I have Sebastian willing to burn the book and express regret is because he buried Solomon himself this time, not Anne alone. So, he had more time to feel the weight of his actions, that's one of the things I find frustrating, I've seen people go “Sebastian didn't say he regrets it until we threatened to turn him in” and I'm like, yeah, because he didn't get to face what he'd done, Anne's intervention allowed him to look away from what he'd done and distract himself. To wrap himself in the blanket of his righteousness. Thus, it was only when the social consequence became undeniable, when his actions irrevocably damaged his bond with Anne, that he was forced to face it.

For example, if a kid was recklessly grabbing a cup and it spilled everywhere, the correct thing to do is tell them that they should be more careful next time and then have the kid clean it (with your guidance, of course). The wrong things to do are; scold the child with “what's wrong with you, you are so impatient, look what you've done, you stupid kid”, or shoo the kid away and clean it yourself. One is hurtful, and the other doesn't teach the kid to take responsibility and give them a means of repenting and fixing the mistake.

Solomon repeatedly does BOTH those wrong things every single time we see him interact with Sebastian!

One of the arguments (for Sebastian being evil) that I hate the most is the, “you have to mean it, so Sebastian meant to Avada Solomon, and meant to cast the Cruciatus, he eeeevil.” Like, really? You've never done something that you were sure of in the moment and then regretted later? Seriously? Never said something hurtful, kicked a chair, broke a pencil, threw a tantrum? You sure meant it then, does that mean you can't regret it? Does that mean it didn't hurt to do it? Come on.

I was recently in an argument with someone who tried to tell me that mistakes aren't choices, saying that, “tripping on a rock, or dropping a cup is a mistake. Sebastian made a choice, not a mistake”. I'm just like, you're describing an accident, if you drop a cup, that's by accident. Mistakes are wrong/misguided choices, choices you regret, choices you want to take back. It's in the damn dictionary!

People make mistakes when under extreme stress. Case in point, Ominis. Cruciatus, big oof, 100% not his fault, but he did mean it. I just think that anyone who judges Sebastian but says Ominis is an angel doesn't understand that torture isn't always ripping off fingernails or stabbing eyeballs. The type of torture Sebastian was experiencing was equally as cruel as Ominis got from his family. Just because Sebastian's torturer is reality itself (plus his uncle salting the wound), doesn't make it any less painful or devastating.

Another one is, “Sebastian manipulated MC into helping him and lied about his goals.” Like, when? Sure, he's been evasive, he's lied by omission, been misleading, but those were always in order to advance steps on the way to the goal, his goal was very plain from the beginning and never changes. “Cure Anne. Consequences? Who cares? If she dies, I might as well die too, then nothing matters.” That's why he's so reckless, it's despair and depression. Like, Sebastian could be an unreliable narrator regarding the way Solomon treats him, but he didn’t need to do shit to make me disapprove of Solomon’s behaviour, the man earned that on his own.

You can even say that this is the exact scenario that the Ominis in my other fic, Heavy Is The Crown, was so terrified of. Sebastian just doesn't have much to live for besides Anne and Ominis.

I will admit though, that Anne's maturity and balls have been cranked up a tad for this fic, she's more insightful and willing to face Sebastian's desperation rather than running away from the reality that, whether she likes it or not, even if it's not her fault, her death will ruin him, and she can choose to do something about it, or leave him to drown without her.

In this ending, she gives Sebastian relief, she offers him permission to stop. To give up, to stop trying, to stop fighting, to stop swimming against the current, to let it carry him down the stream, shatter his body against the rocks and obediently sink to the bottom. Permission to stop acting strong, to stop trying to convince others and himself that he's strong enough to carry a dying girl on that tiny 15-year-old back. It's a relief, it's freedom, it's her saying he can say, “I've done enough.” and she won't be disappointed that he can't move on, she's accepted it.

I actually believe in euthanasia, as it is done in the Netherlands, there's just so many things that are worse than death. The person I argued with tried to convince me that murder is the greatest sin, and I'm like, I can list a million things I'd rather be murdered, than be inflicted with, you lucky sweet summer child. I congratulated them on never having reached Sebastian's desperation and they seemed to be offended, but I meant it. I would love to believe that murder is the worst sin.

Then again, this person I was arguing with also said they'd rather lock up and punish someone who regrets and is ready to repent, than for anyone to “get away with it”.

I think it's also frustrating that some people seem to think that Sebastian doesn't care about Ominis because he keeps throwing us at Ominis, but I think he's hurt that Ominis listens to a stranger over him. It's because Sebastian cares about Ominis more than his own pride, that Sebastian says “you know what, I can't figure out what Ominis needs, but I want him to get it. So, if you can do it, please, even if it hurts me to ask you to do something I wish I could do. Talk to him for me because I don't know how to do it without hurting him.”

In the game, Sebastian shows signs of being bitter about not being able to communicate properly with Ominis, and it's one of the reasons he's ready to die with Anne in this fic. Sebastian doesn't feel needed by Ominis, Sebastian mistakenly thinks that Ominis is angry that “being friends with Sebastian” means that Ominis still has to think about Dark Arts. Sebastian doesn't have a reason to stay.

And that's why I prefer legalised euthanasia, going through multiple doctors, years of evaluations, lawyers and hoops before being approved and being able to back out any time. It's better than suicide since there's professionals to make sure that you've tried every option. Without legal euthanasia, people are more likely to attempt suicide alone, and when it's based off misinformation, like Sebastian's mistaken belief that he isn't needed.

In Heavy Is The Crown, Ominis gets his head out of his ass and takes action to prevent Sebastian from falling to suicide, but in this alternate path, Ominis continues his modus operandi of just feeling sorry for himself when something he doesn't want to happen happens. Which, obviously is NOT his fault. That's his default modus operandi because of his abuse and disempowerment in his home and school, because his family influence is so broad.

Also, um, I feel like I should just say, you're welcome to interpret Sebastian and Anne's love in this fic however you wish, but I personally did not write it with incestual romance in mind. Just... making that clear. The Reader/Ominis is a bit more intentional and I do think of this as a bit of pre-ship between Ominis and MC, but you can also see that as platonic, of course!

I'm just gonna rant about the person I was arguing with for a bit. You can skip this, but if you want to know where this fic came from, feel free to read the painful experience that led to it.

One of the most horrifying things that person said was “if a woman who had been assaulted and became afraid of men afterwards or if someone had a bad experience with a black person, and retaliated against the next black person who approached them aggressively, they should be blamed for choosing to react violently.” Like, I'll grant that these people with bias resulting from bad experiences should not be in charge of making laws and they need therapy, but blame them for a fear response? Wtf-

I begged them to try to understand why people make mistakes or overreact and take their experiences into account and have compassion, if they want to prevent tragedies and treat the root of problems, and they said I was insulting them as uncompassionate. They pulled a “I've suffered too, but I didn't become a murderer” line too, why do they always pull that one? Just because you can, doesn't mean everyone else can! We are not all equal in experience, support, background, and physical/chemical make up!

I pointed out their misquotes of lines that weren't in the game, like, they said Anne said the “Inferi were heading to the town”, which... no, Anne calls Feldcroft a hamlet, not a town and that line just doesn't exist! And they said Ominis approved of Anne getting Solomon and said, “I completely forgot, Anne's going to get Solomon.” but what he actually said was “I was so worried about Sebastian. I didn't even realise - Anne's gone to get Solomon.” Completely different meaning! I was like “please play the game again, you're hallucinating” and they called that an ad hominem.

They said there's a special Rehab Azkaban for minors that has no dementors (since when!?) where kids get to leave unharmed (That's some amazing Just World Fallacy, this is a country with slavery, legal racism and no lawyers!), right after saying that Sebastian would be an adult at almost-16 during that time, so this mythical minor-rehab-Azkaban wouldn't take Sebastian anyway! They even say Inferi can't leave their gravesite without being controlled, and then, that Sebastian failed to control the Inferi contradicting their assertion that Inferi were heading to the hamlet. And then they say I'm insulting them by saying they're being contradictory and illogical. Oh, and when I pointed that out, they said the relic was controlling the Inferi not Sebastian, like, controlling them to do what!? By that logic, I can say the gun killed that guy, not me. Wtf-

Then they said it's dangerous and unhealthy to draw conclusions about someone based on how they interact with a fictional character, (even though they said they would rather lock away anyone who isn't “sufficiently repentant” irl too, which sounds good until you realise that they don't think Sebastian was repentant) and that fictional topics should stay in fiction. Like, wtf, fiction is meant to allow us to share and simulate situations, explore, and practice emotions safely so we can learn from the experience and grow as a person, and face reality wiser. I feel like this person would say Star Trek isn't political and shouldn't be compared to real world politics.

God, that was such an awful conversation, they picked a fight with me over a 2 year old thread, refused to leave me alone when I said I'd rather not fight and continued spamming me, said I'm an unpleasant person to converse with (then leave me alone, Jesus), then they accused me of liking my own posts too, and when I went and liked some to show that the 1 like wasn't myself, because, look, I liked it and it's now 2, they said that's evidence that I... was indeed liking my own posts. Like wtf? They say I'm a bad debater, and yeah. You're right, I'm not here to debate. I'm a teacher. So, if you insist on bothering me, what you get is a lecture!

And then two other people came in to pile on me, calling me nasty, an awful person and insufferable without telling me what I've done that is so “nasty”, and refusing to answer when I asked how they would rather I phrase my replies. At least when I say someone is awful, I say why, and it's pretty much only when someone tells me they want to make already suffering people suffer more. Those supporters said they didn't see any wrong quotes or wrong info from the person I argued with, and I am so confused. I feel like I'm the crazy one. What is going on, how can you two agree with this person when they are concerningly saying a 15-year-old is old enough to be treated like an adult!? Then they say I’m rude for saying that has concerning implications of the paedophilic kind. Sorry, but that's where your double standard logically leads.

Then they started mocking my "books" and laughing with each other, yeesh, what is this comically middle school bullying of the nerdy autistic kid shit? And mate, if you think 1k words make a book, I have bad news for you.

Look, we raised the age of adulthood for a reason! We have juvenile court for a reason! We raised the minimum working age for a reason! Children do not yearn for the mines! We abolished “guilty until proven innocent” for a reason! We take dangerous things/info out of reach of kids, not keep them in the easily broken-into Restricted Section! We don't just judge radicalised kids and lock them up in a torture chamber with dementors, we figure out how it happened and understand it, to prevent it from happening again.  We rehabilitate them and offer them compassion, dignity and support. Hell, it's usually depression causing the problems and you want to throw the kid in depression central? Even if you think there's a non-Azkaban rehab, mental hospitals in the 1890s were also torture chambers!

Who decides who is unsaveable and who isn't!? Who is repentant and who isn't!? This person decided on their own that Sebastian will 100% kill again, when the person he killed in the heat of battle- when Solomon attacked Sebastian emotionally for years and then physically. They even said that Sebastian blamed Anne for leaving him when Sebastian explicitly said, “I can't blame her. I couldn't really blame any of you if you gave up on me entirely. You all believed in me. And I let you all down.”

I tried so hard to get them to realise that there was nothing Sebastian could have done to convince them he'd changed and was worthy of a second chance, that they'd already judged him, closed the possibility in their mind and given him a task that was impossible, because they'd already decided that he was unsaveable. That they are more fixated on punishment than reform. That they simply want justice without compassion.

They gave him an exam with a pass grade of 130/100. He has no chance and that's not fair. (Which ironically, was the same thing they did to me with the "likes" thing, they seemed to think I was pissed about that because I cared about... honestly, I don't know, I don't see what the point of that would have been, but the thing that actually pissed me off was that there was no way to convince them that I didn't like my own replies. Even though I have zero reason to do such a thing and have proven it by actively using my one like to bring it to 2.)

But they literally went, “I'm done reading your essays, I'm right and you're wrong.” I can never get over how painful that is, to face a person who slams the door in my face after I spent so much effort trying to reach them sincerely and honestly. Called insufferable because I refuse to bend my principles, my belief that everyone deserves mercy and a second chance. I plead for kindness, and they get angry instead and say I'm, “nauseatingly full of yourself” and “talking down on people”.

I'm on my knees bro- I'm not talking down on you, I am begging you, for the people around you, the children you say you are in charge of caring for. You don't know how painful it is to not be believed when you are trying to change. When you know you've made a mistake you can't take back, and you want to repent and make up for it, but nobody believes you or gives you the chance to. To be accused of crocodile tears or purposely fucking up or not trying.

To just be punished, made an example of, and hung out to dry as a child. To be given up on, betrayed by those you thought you could count on. To realise your best was never enough, could never have been enough. That you were doomed to fail from the start, and nobody cares that that was your best.

I know those people wouldn't even read this, but you who are reading please understand that, in the face of all that…

Death is preferable.

[mostofwhatilike]

dont know how many of my oomfies here on my King Gizzard and the Lizard Wizard Blog care about books, much less my opinions on them, but since we're right around halfway through the year, here's an extremely shit quality visual of everything i've read/attempted to read so far yayyy yay. see below for thoughts and opinions:

favorites of the year so far:

hungerstone: this one was already off to a great start because i'd just finished the god of endings, which was basically women's literary fiction but instead of the protagonist just being a heterosexual woman, she's a heterosexual woman vampire who's as self-pitying and anti-vampire as louis de pointe du lac except she's not self-pitying and anti-vampire as a gay metaphor or for any reasons that make her cool and sexy, she's just like sad she can't get old or have a baby or something. anyways that book sucked, and hungerstone ruled, because hungerstone is a retelling of carmilla, and that means gothic repressed lesbian vampire lust and it was awesome. maybe it leaned a little too hard into the "men are awful" thing and could've done with more of a focus on the whole gothic repressed lesbian vampire lust but maybe i'm just a pervert.

the history of sound: ben shattuck is from the same region as me and also this falls into my favorite niche of "talks about nature a lot and is set in new england" (see also: north woods, six walks, walden which yes i KNOW i didn't finish that but i'll probably get back to reading thoreau someday) so of course i was going to love this but it was also queer which is awesome and beautifully written which was even better.

american bulk: this was one of those books that made me think "wow i've never had a unique experience" multiple times. also really sort of jarring to be listening to a book and then they start talking about having been a tumblr user. can't believe people made it off of this website and are publishing books.

the details: this was just gorgeous and it's like the shortest book ever and everybody should read it. again, one of those "i've had no unique experiences" books.

in the "i finished this and it sucked" aka "the sunk cost fallacy" category, we have:

sour cherry: i was so, so hopeful for this -- a bluebeard retelling by a trans author! -- and the beginning was great, and then it got really repetitive and steeped in metaphor that i didn't care about but i was already like two thirds of the way in so i finished it.

orbital: i read this book over the course of like three 20 minute treadmill workouts so maybe i didn't give it the level of thought and attention it deserved, but also i was able to recognize that while the prose was beautiful, the message of the book was basically "wow... when you see earth from space... there's no borders... race totally doesn't matter..." and like, i don't know, i didn't vibe with that. but again it took like an hour to read so, whatever.

american eden: you start listening to a book thinking it's about the founding of america's first botanical garden. then you find out the garden basically never existed and it's actually a book about alexander hamilton. and every time they say alexander hamilton you think of that clip of jacksfilms deadpanning alexander hamilton's name, and also of lin maniel miranda.

and, finally, the dnfs. i dnf pretty liberally, for reasons including but not limited to:

"this is actually really fucking bad" (shock induction, camp damascus, the familiar)

"i don't agree with the politics of this book" (what your food ate)

"i forgot i was even listening to this and my loan was returned on libby and i didn't actually care enough about it to ever think to renew it (how to love a forest, a life between the tides)

"this hurt my brain too badly for me to want to continue it (existential physics, cecelia, the obscene bird of night though i might come back to these last two at another time)

"i've already read another book that is exactly like this one" (greenwood, reminiscent of the overstory, and in praise of walking, reminiscent of exercised/the history of the human body)

and finally just that it was boring, which encompasses the rest of them basically.

okay yay <3 thanks for reading. i like to talk about books sometimes lets play tuoys forever

[sixbynine-da]

12345 Writer Tag Game!

Rules: Give us the links to your fic with the most hits, second most kudos, third most comments, fourth most bookmarks, fifth most words, and fic with the least words (feel free to interpret however you would like; if not on AO3, can be on Tumblr or FFNET, etc)!

Thanks for the tag, @doonarose

Most Hits:

Heaven's Calling : Good Omens, 14,965 hits, 87,350 words, E, completed. And the longest thing I've ever written :O. Human musian AU with some wonderful artwork by @afterdarkchef and beautiful vocals by Vavoommy. Heavy topics, including family abuse, but ultimately a good ending.

Second Most Kudos:

A Tricky Situation (Entirely of his own making) : Good Omens, 591 kudos, 35,212 words, E, Completed. My FIRST long fic, completed in a two week mad dash for the first exchange I ever took part in (and wildly underestimated how carried away I could get) also seems to be the fic that pops up rec'd sporadicallhy :D. Enemies to Lovers, professor AU with a happy ending (and cute follow up!)

Third Most Comments:

Meet me on the Try Line: Deadboy Detectives, Edwin/Charles, 164 comment threads, 82,186 words, E, WIP (posting Friday's :D), ongoing collab with @cairngorm-ard that spiralled SOOOO far beyond our original conversation about dem Rugby boys (and I love it). Human School Rugby team AU with plenty of sass and ~tension~TM :D.

Fourth Most Bookmarks:

Of Comforts and Rituals: The Originals, Klaus/Elijah, 189 bookmarks, 11,409 words, E, Complete, The FIRST fic I wrote after an over ten year hiatus from fandom and writing also the dubious honor of being the only thing I've ever written entirely on my phone because I was still being weird about writing and it was the best way to hide what I was doing (IDGAF anymore, writing smut in public 💪). non AU, incest fic with shower fun.

Fifth Most Words:

More than just Circumstance: Deadboy Detectives (RPF), 28,244 words, E, Complete. Largely written because I was to lazy to set up an Actor AU 😂 Spiralled way out of control from a short few k one shot to this plus a prequel fic and a final sequal fic.

Least Words:

I mean *technically* my least wordy thing on AO3 is any of my podfics/art 🤣 since they are zero. Next up would be a piece of poetry that was done as companion to a fic. HOWEVER actual, genuine shortest fic I have is:

The Hardest Part: Sherlock, 332 words, Complete, Gen, Complete, written in 2012 and moved from FFnet, one of the last things I wrote before disappearing to do IRL, Mycroft POV post Reichenbach.

I already tagged a couple ppl so feel free :D otherwise @theonewiththeshippinggoogles @dbacklot99 @happynachohologram

[comfortlesshurt]

2024 Skyler Wrapped

Little 2024 update because my ass can never get enough statistics! (I enjoy the writing, but I fear my true love is math.)

Anyway, skip this post if it will bother you reading about a year of someone else's achievements! I will totally understand. Literally jerkin' myself off under the cut on this post, my dudes.

This year's new fics (in order of date first posted):

Ratings and TWs can be found at the links. Please check the TWs before reading!

09-Jun-2024: 5 Times Lance Doesn't Matter +1 Time He Finally Does (my first fic after an 18-month break!)

01-Jul-2024: Smiling 'cause you're used to it (a house that's always haunted) (first fic where I truly let myself go wild & write for my own dick & no one else)

03-Jul-2024: Chemicals, chemicals in my brain (where'd you go, where'd you go anyway?) (first time writing the fluffy part & enjoying it)

01-Aug-2024: Nowhere to call home (so I'll pack and run away) (first time completing a writing challenge on time)

10-Sep-2024: What are you wondering? (What do you know?) (I hate this one actually, but I wrote it this year so we'll just give it..... shortest fic I've written in AWHILE)

15-Sep-2024: On it, yes, indeed (on it, watch me bleed) (ugh opposite problem... I loved this one! but there's nothing really standout about it, I guess. just accept that I love it even if it doesn't have a Special Thing)

14-Oct-2024: 5 Times Keith Relies on the Blade +1 Time... (first time creating something to celebrate a fictional character's birthday. also first OCs with more than one line of dialogue, I think)

07-Dec-2024: With talk of love (as I make-pretend) (first work for a gift exchange! whole new scary experience for me!)

22-Dec-2024: Maybe this thing works out (if I'm lying too) (longest thing I have EVER written and shared. the inspiration for this thing is endless, I fear)

Stats I thought were interesting:

I wasn't actually back in fandom until June 3rd, 2024, so all the AO3 stats are based on the difference between my snapshot of that date and my snapshot on December 31st, 2024. Not a huge difference; it's just chopping out all the January through June interaction with my Spider-Man stuff that was already up since the last time I took a stats snapshot before that was 2021.

Published in 2024: 92k words, all VLD!

Written in 2024 but not yet published: 188k words, also all VLD

General new stats in 2024: 128 new work subs (we're so back), 20k new hits, 1.2k new kudos, 94 new comment threads (and i happy screamed at every single one), & 339 new bookmarks (and i crept through every single one with comments or tags attached... like a creep...)

New finished works: 7

New unfinished works: 2

Top artist for title lyrics this year: Those Who Dream at 16 unique titles (1 work title & 15 chapter titles)

Word count range for 2024 published fics: 527 (complete snippet) to 26k (WIP)

Most common additional tags: Keith-centric, POV Keith, Hurt/Comfort (these are surely surprising to you....)

Number of times I used the word 'just' in published & unpublished fics this year: 993 (0.355% of all words I wrote were this word.......)

Other milestones: first time writing someone who was Not My Blorbo and having fun with it, first time writing without it being an escape from something terrible, first shipfic, first time participating in a fandom event where there would be Consequences if I'd backed out, first explicit content posted on my main account, closest I've ever gotten to finishing NaNo* with one single project, first time c*mm*ssioning art for my fics, first time learning you have to censor the word c*mm*ssion to avoid getting scam bots in your tumblr DMs (just a huge milestone year actually)

New word count for this year technically doesn't beat my previous record of 315k in 2021, but 1) I was only employed full-time for 5 months of 2021 so I had way more free time then and 2) I didn't write a single word in 2024 before June 3rd, so 280k in 7 months of 2024 feels like a lot more than 315k in 12 months of 2021.

Also since literally no one IRL cares, some non-writing achievements I'm also proud of for 2024! Going in rough order from earliest in 2024 to latest:

Quit the most abusive job I've ever experienced

And immediately got my first job in my intended career field

Finally coded an AO3 stats tracker after 6 years of having it in the back of my mind

Grew my first ever eggplant (it was very small....)

Paid off my car

First semi-solo business proposal presented with a base price totaling more than all of the bids combined that I supported over 2 years at my last job

Made new friends I love <3

Acquired an unquenchable thirst for vld merch....

Went to my first con

And finally as of today, I'm under 89% of my original mortgage balance & on track to own this thing in half the original loan term! (praying this series of words doesn't wake up the sugar daddy bot again, he LOVES when I discuss my mortgage)

Also, some shoutouts for the year! In order of when we first met:

@zelandiangelo for being one of the few OGs I know still around and always being so nice to talk to and supportive. ;_; In case anyone's forgotten, they're the one who convinced me to write and post my first ever hurt/comfort fic and sucked me right back into fandom after I'd been clean for like... six years at that point.

For the record, there are other OGs and I'm glad to see them around! We're just not as close (but you can change that in 2025 ;) )

@hurtwithabitofcomfort for also being crazy supportive through all the fandoms I've been through. I didn't get to shout 'em out last year since I wasn't active on Tumblr then, but they're the one who kicked off me getting back into writing in 2023. I know I didn't SHARE anything from 2023, but they made me see how much I loved writing again around that time when the rest of my life kinda sucked and I was giving up on everything.

@perpetuallylatetothefandomparty for their incredibly nice comments! Deadass, I probably would've just posted my first one or two fics of this year and disappeared for another year or two if they hadn't been such a constant presence this summer, hyping up all the gen fics I was working on then.

@voltrohgodwhat for being so easy to talk to and being the kind of friend where either of us can like... disappear for a month and still be totally cool with each other. Also for sharing WIPs that still haunt me on a weekly basis because they're so unique and good ;_;

@existwound for being too intimidatingly cool for awhile but STILL hyping me up. If you've liked anything I've posted in the past three months or so, you've probably got Astra to blame for brainstorming it with me, letting me ramble about it, giving me fresh ideas when I'm stuck on something, or hyping it up.

@langst for always yapping to me about Klance and ALSO hyping up my WIPs and letting me ramble about ideas. Also special shoutout to El because she got me back into writing sprints and that is the source of a LOT of this recent word count. There is something so special about getting to stomp people's asses as you write.......

I'm not gonna harass all the writers I like who aren't like... people I talk to regularly, but even though this has been a VERY light reading year for me, there's a whole little list of VLD writers who I read over and over and like... instantly got motivation to write on my own fics afterward. If you've been in any of my 2024 fic rec lists, it's you... you are my motivation....

(Also, I am OLD and don't have my incredible teenage memory anymore, so if you see me add someone to the shoutouts later, no you didn't and I'm SORRY for not remembering in the first place.)

And final thing! Goals for 2025!

500k written in 2025: Just a little above my daily average in 2024 when you account for the 5 months I wasn't writing this year. The goal is to keep up the pace I've had since June 2024, but extend it through the full 12 months of 2025. Might be a bit of a reach but hey, I'll be happy to get anywhere near 500k in a year, so it works!

Start posting In Love and Death by the end of 2025: I'm running SO behind on where I thought I'd be with this project when I started, but there is no excuse for this to not be close enough to finished to start posting by the end of next year. Mark my words.......

Continue posting work I love: I fell out of habitually writing the last time because I was writing based on what I thought other people wanted to read and holy shit, it is so much easier to write what I want to read. So I'm gonna keep doing that in 2025. In 2024 we moved between gen whump, semi-shippy whump, and shippy non-whump, and I enjoyed them all because that was what I felt like writing at the time. I'll slide between them all as I feel like it again in 2025.

Prioritize my mental health online: I've mostly gotten through it fine, but every burst of bad mental health that affected my writing this year was a direct result of continuing to follow people who are just plain assholes and ruining my mood for no good reason when I'm trying to enjoy scrolling my dash. In 2025, I'll be reminding myself more often that no one is talented enough to make up for being a dick, and I will be more brutal with the unfollow and block buttons for anyone who's making my fandom experience worse.

[thychesters]

hii gyro thank you for the tag @swordsmans

words posted:

7,758 LMAO vs 2023's 53,886 but hey, words are words.

additional words written:

uhhhh i've been doing a lot of writing ft. a lot that hasn't been posted so the actual number is probably closer to like [redacted] 😬

fandoms:

one piece lmaoooo

highest kudos + highest hit one shot:

wave after wave. with highest kudos & hits! i only posted two fics in 2024, one in jan. and one in dec.

new things i tried:

not in anything posted, but in a wip i tried my hand in stepping out of my comfort zone and messed with formatting and stream of consciousness. this year i let myself write and put down whatever words came to mind and didn't let myself edit until i was done. i also wrote my first ever proper outline!

fic i spent the most time on:

nautical dawn. took me the longest, purely for the sake of ensuring i felt like i hit the right beats. it's the shortest fic i've written in a while, but it was also a gift.

fic i spent the least time on:

wave after wave. technically took two months start to finish, but that was only because i wrote 95% of it on a plane, closed the doc, and then opened it again mid-jan like "oh oops". realistically it took maybe 3 hours?

favorite thing i wrote:

that's tough because some of my favorite ideas i haven't shared! from wave after wave. though i still like the line He’d raised his eye long enough to meet Luffy’s, gaze bleary, but under the blood, the dirt, and the pain that flashed across his face, he’d looked relieved. because while it's simple i like to think it says a lot about luffy and zoro's relationship. (strong contender was nami and zoro's bickering in nautical dawn. but that more than one line lmao)

favorite things i read:

aughhhh this is a tough one and i'm biased but that is that and this is this by kurgaya! i've always loved the way cams writes zolu/luzo and this was such a delight to see in my inbox. 100% biased here though and absolutely zero shame

writing goals for 2025:

do it, mostly. i have a few small ideas i'm tossing back and forth, but we'll see what sticks and what comes of it. maybe we'll break into smut again, who knows!

new works:

you'll see!

tagging:

i'm tagging @majormiles, @dogteethkakashi, @beck-a-leck, and @svtboo

[pitter-patt-art]

Ace Attorney AU August (halfway progress update!)

Okay technically it's the 16th (lol, 17th by the time this is done) so a little over halfway actually, but still I thought since I haven't had anything finished to post the past few days this would be a fun alternative!

I've been going a little nuts (affectionate) over @augustwritingchallenge's AU-gust prompts list this year so August has been a wild ride (about 40k words of one, in fact. so far.) but seeing as I will get attached to even the jokiest of AU ideas instantly, I've completed* a whopping 5 whole fics of 16, lol. Considering the shortest of those is over 3k and the longest is over 12k, I think the problem with not finishing these in a timely manner is entirely on my verbose foolish thick skull, haha, but I'm still having a blast with it.

Here is my ao3 series where I'm posting!

And a rundown / progress report / quick teaser of all the AUs including those I've yet to finish, if anyone's interested:

(*by "completed" I should note two of the already posted fics are basically assuredly going to be continued past the challenge, but let's say "completed enough to post and be on theme")

1. Canon Divergence - complete - 4.5k words ("For the Murder of Mr. Wrong" link)

Mia POV, gen. What if Dahlia succeeded in poisoning Phoenix and framed Doug Swallow instead (and then Mia defended him in court)? Basically a 3-1 rewrite. Fun Fact: I only came up with this AU because before I even remembered AU-gust existed at all, I'd come up with like 4 totally separate AUs in which I poison Phoenix in various ways With Real Consequences because it amuses me, lol, but he survives all those other ones and I eventually realized I hadn't even considered straight up killing him off yet so I figured I should try it at least once, haha.

2. Colorless - complete 1st chapter - 3.2k words ("Grey Matters" link)

Phoenix POV (for 1st ch --prob alternating after), wrightworth. "You can't see color until the first time you touch your soulmate"-soulmate AU. 1st chapter is their first meeting as kids (skipping the class trial itself). Fun Fact(s): I really love a color soulmate AU! Big fan of the "only see the color of their eyes" type of one too but uhhh on top of that working better for things that have wild anime eye colors, you could not pay me enough to try to figure out what the HELL is going on with Ace Attorney eye colors at any given time lmfao. (Also--spoilers for what i haven't written yet but hey if you're here you earned it--this IS one of my very many "teehee what if i poison Phoenix just a smidge as a treat for me" fics. NOT my fault the man ATE GLASS. That's on him.)

3. Dark Academia - complete "1st chapter" - 4.4k words ("The Spirit of the Laws of Magic" link)

Mia POV, lanamia. Magical boarding school setting featuring corruption and missing-student conspiracies and a most likely overthought system of magic with hierarchies and prejudices in societal views of academic/formulaic vs folk/innate magic. Fun Fact: I really thought for SURE i was going to skip this day entirely, lol. (foolish.) I don't think i've actually ever personally read anything "dark academia", technically--so if this doesn't read EXACTLY that way, there you go, but i did my best. I also then thought I could live with keeping this vague but I accidentally thought about it too long so... plus at least two people on top of myself at this point have expressed interest in more of this and so I have some semi-concrete Plans™ now.

4. Zombie Apocalypse - conceptualized (but not started)

Concept: probably gen and Phoenix POV, but also because I'm me and they're them, at least a little bit wrightworth even if it isn't necessarily explicit in any meaningful way bc they are Not Normal about each other lol. A little sketchy on how much of an "AU" this counts for, since it could probably be argued to be canon compliant somehow, but basically just: Universe where they make a Pride and Prejudice and Zombies-type Steel Samurai reboot movie thing (featuring, you guessed it, zombies), and Miles comes over and forces Phoenix to watch it with him just to have someone to bitch about it at, and then during that time Maya blows her way into Phoenix's apartment as well with the exact same intentions except her "day job" isn't quite as time-sensitive-strict so she's already finished watching it earlier and knows all the spoilers. Honestly a good chance Phoenix and Pearl (who came with Maya) end up hiding out in the kitchen together to let Maya and Miles rile each other up in front of the TV, but I'm never exactly sure where they'll take me once I wind them up and set them loose on the page, so who knows. I also hadn't necessarily determined the exact time frame yet but for it to make sense as a reboot-type movie/special episode/whatever it probably should be 7yg-or-later so Trucy may or may not be there as well. (That said, in my struggles to complete an actually short one-shot, I probably shouldn't even include Pearl let alone Trucy, lol.) Fun Fact: I also thought I'd skip this day bc I'm not the biggest zombie guy in the world, and to be fair, I managed to do Way Less with it than the dark academia prompt so, yippie?

5. Chess Players - incomplete (currently 3k word WIP)

Miles POV, wrightworth. Miles is a chess grandmaster and back in Japanifornia for the upcoming world cup tournament, but his greatest challenge is actually to FINALLY best Franziska in their annual who-can-get-the-best-Christmas-gift competition. Luckily, he just so happened to hear of an artist who makes bespoke chess sets, so the plan is to get a custom board made for Franziska without her finding out. The plan is not to get trapped in a weird art collective labyrinth with some model-photographer named Cindy who keeps hitting on him but also happens to be protective of the artist he's there to see because "she and her boyfriend kinda-sorta owe him big time", but this is what he gets for coming here without doing any extra research into the artist besides seeing his work and hearing only "his name is White, or, eh, something like that, you know how those artist types are" from Mr. Amano. (AU where we replace law with chess and no I don't think Phoenix could necessarily hack it in the top-world-grandmasters-level of chess tournaments HOWEVER have you considered he DID go to art school so what if he just tries selling custom chess sets until somehow that reconnects him with Miles. Is that somehow a more insane plan than studying law? Maybe. Did Manfred still shoot Gregory but now it was over fucking chess? Maybe. Idk. But I did let Greg live this time at least!) Fun Fact: we can all DEFINITIVELY blame my lovely, terrible, very wonderful friend Ben (shameless friend plug! she's an outstanding writer and has some AA fics of her own too!! @kindlystrawberry on tumblr!!) for making a total joke about "well what about au where they make chess pieces instead" while i lamented not knowing enough about chess to write an actual match and spawning this ENTIRE concept. It is her fault. 100%. She is the guilty party. (I want to finish this one VERY BADLY. Save me.)

EVIDENCE!!!!! Guilty.

6. Reality Show - incomplete (currently 700 word WIP)

Phoenix (& Franziska) POV(s), background wrightworth wedding planning going on as set up but it's also definitely just one of my many excuses to set Phoenix and Franziska up as bitchy worsties who can't admit they enjoy each other's company and will cut you down if you suggest it as such. So far I've only written the quote "set-up" section which is in Phoenix's POV, but that was SUPPOSED to be like 5 paragraphs and cut away and then lead into my actual plan for the main body, which was to be in Franz's instead, so. This is very similar to the zombie one in that it's them watching reality tv instead of being contestants on a show (I don't personally like or watch a lot of reality tv so my creative well was somewhat dry on how to make that work) and then I accidentally thought about Phoenix and Franziska watching something just to judge and tear apart the decisions of every person on it and that was too fun to not consider further, haha. Basically the plan is just they get left alone together and don't know what to do with that and end up wine-drunk and making fun of some reality dating show of some kind and Miles and Trucy come back to them losing it together over something stupid and are like "......uh. what's happening." Fun Facts: I really love the thought experiment of Franziska somehow discovering how often Phoenix's internal dialogue/reads on situations and especially people can be So Bitchy And Judgey despite his affable complexion, and her unfortunately finding his opinions to SOMETIMES be somehow slightly okay. Moderately correct, even--occasionally. I know the section she follows you-as-Phoenix around in T&T is really not long at ALL, but I adore it. There's something about it that so badly makes me want to force them into proximity more (to both their chagrin, I'm sure).

7. Farm/Ranch - complete - 12k words ("Two Little Dickey Byrdes" link)

Gumshoe POV, gumbyrde (tho i still think dickeybyrde is a funnier ship name). 5+1 things--except more like maybe 7-or-8+1 to be honest--so it's more: over 5 times Dick and Maggey sit on a wall together and 1 time they find someone else there instead. AKA: Dick runs his family's small farm (think fantasy farm like in a farming sim or maybe horse girl novel type of thing that has nothing to do with what a real farm is like lol don't worry about it) and Maggey starts working at the next farm over as the latest of her many odd jobs. Fun Fact: oh god this one got so far away from me. it was not supposed to be this long lmao. it's literally the elaborate set-up to a very silly Nursery-Rhyme-I-Didn't-Even-Know-About-Prior-To-This -based punchline!?! still, i was pleasantly surprised by how happy i was with this once it was done... two sittings and about 16 total hours later. haha).

8. Nomad - incomplete (planned/outlined)

Apollo (or possibly Klavier) POV, klapollo. Sort of Jove-Thalassa swap adjacent, but basically: AU where Jove survives the Khura'in fire but loses his memories for [contrived convince sake reasons]. (And also possibly loses some or all of his eyesight just to really go for the parallels?) Therefore: Jove and Apollo stay with Dhurke and Nahyuta and the Defiant Dragons for a time, while Jove recovers, but eventually they leave and head out on their own, just the two of them, and do the traveling musician thing, both because it's dangerous in Khura'in and Dhurke already canonically didn't want Apollo to get caught up in it and potentially get hurt to begin with and because with a functioning actual parent Apollo doesn't need to be taken in by him--and also Jove from what little we know seems like he prefers to be on the move and was already a world traveler anyhow, so even amnesiac maybe he gets a little antsy stuck in one place too long. And so like amnesiac Thalassa, Jove thusly becoming a renowned mysterious musician--and then Apollo, sweet tone deaf Apollo, becoming the sonager of all time (like a momager but...you get it) because he's not that into music but he IS into arguing for better conditions/making deals (contracts!! international legalese!! woohoo!!) with venues and promoters and stuff. And then--oops dang Lamioir still exists and now they have a meet-cute (2 electric bugaloo) (but by then it's later enough Trucy still exists because it will be a cold day in hell when I don't find a way to make her work) and they do music collabs or join up to form a group or whatever and OOPS this means now that Apollo and Jove are with Lamioir when The Gavinners / Klavier specifically meet her and get her to come to do the Guitar's Serenade concert eventually. And Apollo and Klavier ofc thusly also have a meet-cute and then talk and bond etc etc. AND THEN the au STOPS THERE and I DON'T think about how without Apollo Phoenix is totally getting convicted of Zak's murder because there's no way that trial works out as well for him with some other attorney and I also don't think about how reasonable it would then be that maybe Trucy ends up helping Valant with his work setting up the trick for the concert afterward on account of the one father in prison and the other being dead and having left behind a notarized confession clearing Valant's name of suspicion, etc. AND I DEFINITELY do not think about how i could then still so easily get everyone in one place at the concert for Turnabout Serenade and/or any possible funny Sibling (And Thalassa) Reveal that could happen i dont i dont i do not--

9. Accidental Baby Acquisition - conceptualized (not started)

Gen, possibly my weakest / least defined idea on this list, but basically: Phoenix kind of already lives this in canon, lol (insomuch as an 8yo counts as a baby) so I thought, well, how to take it a different direction, then? And I thought, I don't usually go for a Phoenix Fey kind of au because I personally really love the relationships he has with all the Feys as-is in canon and so it's not quite as funny to me as, say, a Miles Fey AU where like Misty and Gregory are married, or any of the ones in that bent, because I'm sorry but that's just SO funny (and sad, but mostly funny) any way you slice it--plus his NAME is RIGHT THERE mia-miles-maya he FITS--anyhow, that completely aside, there are just a lot of reasons I really love the platonic relationships the Feys already have with Phoenix and I don't think it NEEDS to be made specifically familial to still be so very important, y'know? BUT. That said. AU where Phoenix is idk abandoned as a baby or maybe his parents die young or something and it's like a Thing to leave babies at temples or churches or whatever, right? So like--Phoenix adopted by the Feys AU but only because the more i considered it the more i thought it would be WILD for him to literally know Maya her entire life, and it's fascinating to me to consider a Maya who ISN'T basically left all alone to her own devices (and Morgan's) and who has someone absolutely in her corner in the village the entire time even after Mia leaves (who isn't a baby when Mia leaves, love you tho Pearls), AND also and perhaps more importantly, the ships-passing-in-the-night-ness of a scene where, like: Morgan does something sketchy or whatever and Phoenix wants to keep Mia updated but for whatever reason decides to go down to the city and actually tell her in person and so he's waiting outside the courthouse or something (possibly part of or perhaps Most Of the reason he goes in person is because he knows her first courtroom trial is that day and he wants to see her + hear how it went) and when he gets there she's in a heated argument with some asshole in a fancy over-embellished jacket and once that guy leaves Phoenix is like "Sheesh, what's his problem?" You know???? And maybe he really would never even know!!!! Bc he grew up in Kurain!!!! And has no reason to care!!! About some random prosecutor who was mean to Mia!! Aaaah!!! So that, and on top of that, Diego would be there too ofc at that point, and I feel like he would ALSO be quite a funny interaction in this scenario. ("Wow, someone's popular, kitten, you have all sorts of guys waiting on a chance to talk to you, heh?" "Uh.--I'm sorry, WHAT did you just call her")

10. Enemies-to-Allies - incomplete (currently 370 word WIP)

Ema POV, faraskye. Cyberpunk AU where Lana is still under Gant's thumb and Ema, with no other way to stay close to her and getting rejected from any of the sorts of jobs she really wants to do, decides to just join the security force (or cyber police or w/e I decide to call it) and is tasked with hunting down the Yatagarasu, guerilla hacker supreme who is threatening the sanctity of the capitalist overlords. Except Ema's squad gets ambushed and she's captured and tied to a pole, and with her useless fop partner seemingly not coming to rescue her (if he even noticed her absence), she does some quick cost-benefit analysis and decides she didn't really like that job anyway and maybe there's another way she can get her sister back in her life. So she breaks free of her own handcuffs (which she definitely didn't modify into incidental ineffectiveness she's still testing for bugs) and helps fix the "Little Thief" device her captor seems to have broken despite how obviously valuable and impressive the tech is, and they eventually come to something of an agreement. If you can't beat 'em, join 'em, and all that. Either Ema as the hardware-engineer one and Kay as the software-programming one as the two sides of the tech coin, or else Kay can just be like doing the physical sneaking kind of spy stuff only--or maybe she knows a little about software but not so much she's a pro the way she is with infiltration and such. Possibly toying with the idea Kay herself is just completely an android, but if not, I think she has some cybernetic cyborg things going on regardless. Possibly from or inspired by her father? I also like the idea that Gant did something maybe more drastic with regards to having dirt on Ema to get Lana to do his bidding--like maybe Ema has a whole cybernetic hand because instead of just her handprint on a leather jacket, Gant has some sicko jar with her entire hand in it in his office safe, or something. I don't know why this would be useful to him but it is certainly an image. I also find it funny if Miss Fingerprint Powder Enthusiast doesn't actually have any fingerprints of her own anymore somehow in this AU, lol.

11. Retail Worker - complete - 6.7k words ("The Bake Anything Boulangerie" link)

Apollo POV, gen. Phoenix gets a job at a bakery instead of the Borscht Bowl Club during the 7 year gap, and Apollo happens to stumble across it and ends up meeting the Wrights while he's still in high school. He becomes a regular at the bakery and is already close to them by the time "Shadi Smith's" murder comes around. And also, yes, sibling reveal right away--at least as soon as Phoenix realizes and can reveal it. As a treat. (Other reveals, though, I might put poor Apollo through on a delayed basis. Also as a treat, lmao, just not one for him.) Fun Fact: I'm being redundant bc this is also in my a/n, but, Baker Phoenix lives rent-free in my brain because Professor Layton vs Phoenix Wright was in fact the very first Ace Attorney game I ever played, technically, and Maya and Phoenix semi-brainwashed in that bakery was literally one of my first impressions of them. ........followed immediately by starting a let's play of Justice for All (which i watched through the first case, after which I was like oKAY fine maybe i DO need more context here, i should probably figure out what the actual first game is, and went back to start the series properly at the beginning hahaha). What do you MEAN i have a disproportionate fascination with amnesiac Phoenix, even if I have yet to finish and publish one of my myriad AUs that utilize stupid, unrealistic, plot convenient re-temporary amnesia?? Hm???? Idk what you're talking about. Also everyone who complains about 2-1 is wrong lmao it's objectively (okay subjectively is what i'm saying yes BUT objectively) such a funny place to start without knowing broad plot strokes, it's great. I both knew so much and absolutely shit-all nothing about Maya after PLvPW and 2-1, LMAO. god.

12. Animagus Wings (Joker) - incomplete (planned/outlined)

Miles POV, wrightworth. Angel/Demon AU, except I'm playing super fast and loose with the rules on that because all my knowledge of Christian-mythos comes from firstly and unknowingly the Chronicles of Narnia and more recently and cognizantly Lucifer (Netflix) and Good Omens. I know that's probably more or less what we're all doing with this kind of AU but still, I'm not even sure I want to refer to Heaven and Hell here, I'm kinda on the fence about maybe just keeping it all very vague? I also accidentally semi-worldbuilt more than i intended incidentally on account of "But Then How-Why Names If Angelic Creatures?" Format-wise it would semi-follow gomens s1 where it's hopping through some meetings between long stretches but also a kind of pre- and post- Fall type of thing? And potentially à la Lucifer becoming, like, these are My Mortal Humans and i will be Spending Time With Them, screw you celestial duties, I'm making my own Free Will, etc. And i mean i guess Lucifer is also a crime procedural lmao maybe they still solve crimes in the end too. Fun Fact: I didn't want to do the original prompt for several reasons, and sure fuck jkr is one of them but even before I knew about her I still wasn't really the biggest hp person in the first place? So i wouldn't know/don't remember at all the way it works without having to do the specific research and i...don't want to haha. Hence. And I know the prompt seems to be using it loosely / might just be borrowing the word and not actually referencing hp specifically but tbh either way human-animal shifter things just in general I can be somewhat picky about haha. (Okay okay plus full disclosure the ONLY idea I have for this sort of thing actually ties into my day-3-dark-academia-extended-au-verse and i COULD make my life simpler by just connecting the two days but Heh who would I be if I simplified things for myself... *sigh*) All that to say: I saw "wings" on the wild card list and I thought, ooh, well that's still sort of a related concept! Let's tag that one in! So it's still kind of day 12 prompt-adjacent, if you squint.

13. Found Footage - incomplete (planned/outlined)

Video Transcript POV? Is that a thing? Possibly capped by a little Phoenix POV (but i don't want that to get too long), wrightworth. Larry's new girlfriend of the month bakes weed brownies and Larry does not realize this and swings by the Wrights' apartment to beg some kind of help off Phoenix and forgets the whole tray there somehow (because it's Larry) and they leave to deal with Larry's thing and by the time they figure the brownies out, in some twist of fate Miles and Trucy have been hanging out (last minute babysitter/adult supervision? but she's at the very very least 14 or 15 here and most likely older, and Nick clearly isn't the most strict about like uhhh supervision in general lol sooo idk. he's helping her with a project or smth. it doesn't really actually matter; he's THERE, that's the important thing.) The point I'm very clearly getting at is they accidentally get incredibly high (not dangerously so because I'm not going that far haha but also, neither of them has actually been high before, so they are Affected) before Phoenix finds out what was in the brownies and tries to warn Trucy and hurry home to like, dispose of them or at least put a warning label on them or whatever, but he is too late lol. By a lot. Definitely an underage drugs tag on this bad boy because it's definitely sometime 18-or-earlier for Trucy, let alone 21. (idk about other places but as a Californian I can tell you Japanifornia "LA" could theoretically have it legalized at 21 for anyone (like alcohol) and 18 with Dr's permission--which Trucy definitely does not have in this AU lol.) Basically, Phoenix grabs Trucy's phone to get photo evidence so he can let them never live this down (after making sure they're okay lmao), but he ofc doesn't get technology so he doesn't realize he leaves the phone still recording when Trucy asks him for something / needs his help, so the recording just keeps going and captures a lot of tomfoolery and eventually some inebriated-to-Extremely-sober Feelings-Adjacent confessions (or maybe more like allusions). Idk, this was actually a fic I thought of before August and wanted to use as an excuse to try a Weird Format for fun, but then i saw this was a prompt on the list and...well. Fun Fact: Cannabis was legalized in California on November 8, 2016 (the first election I could vote in!!! ......uh, rip. lol. but yeah babey I helped legalize weed at least!! gotta remember the positives), which means it was legal right in time for Miles' case(s) / Turnabout Goodbyes!!! Yay!! I mean, I suppose that's genuinely seriously one way to try to mitigate nightmares and manage insomnia--not that I think Miles Edgeworth would ever deign stoop so low as to use an aid to manage his severe PTSD and trauma symptoms, psshaw, who do you take him for? (Get these people some help lol. They all need so much therapy.)

14. Princes & Princesses - conceptualized (not started)

So I've been reading a lot (a LOT) of isekai and/or revenge reincarnation romance fantasy manhwas lately (like, oh, too many, hahaha. they're quite good and they're VERY popular in webcomics at the moment.) Soooo. Soft pitch: Apollo already gets slapped into so many wild backstories he's constantly trying to dodge in an effort to be just a Normal Guy, he's honestly, like, the PERFECT protagonist for one of these lmao. And tell me Kristoph doesn't make a perfect "Upstanding Duke" kind of persona, and Klavier couldn't be the "wild rake" younger brother no one expects much from, and all I'm saying is it wouldn't be that hard to contrive a reason Apollo tries to get Klavier to agree to a contract marriage the way all these stories go, lol. And also, something something, Apollo from the "real world" is an orphan/has an absent family (also like so many of these manhwa protagonists, lol) but then he gets to actually have one in his second life!! I'm such a sucker for that shit. Slightly harder pitch, and the reason I did not let myself actually start writing anything (...yet): so what if the actual plot of the "original romance novel" Apollo is familiar with from the "real world (Earth)" is actually about the slightly older generation and something something instead of admiring Phoenix as a defense attorney, it's just that he instead was Apollo's favorite "love interest" character (not, like, for himself, just the one he most liked to read about) in every way except what a blithering idiot he became when the author had him fall for the female lead--but BEFORE that, he's a cool information guild leader guy who seems like he's trying to work toward some way to improve conditions for commoners in the kingdom (but abruptly there are no more mentions of this after he gets involved with the lead, which is annoying). Aaaand... I guess what I'm saying is, Dahlia is the original female lead because she REALLY fits the whole White Lotus trope, and I'm thinking Klavier is the original male lead because A) hilarious, B) fits in with the idea there's more going on in the ACTUAL world Apollo ends up in that is written in such a way as to make things seem different in the novel (like, that Dahlia and Klavier are actually as nice as they seem and that the terrible things that happen around them are just the trials and tribulations of being main characters and not anything they're directly involved in). And Apollo, the character in the novel Apollo, is an adopted prince of Khura'in, but he's the sickly younger prince and of course not actually of the royal bloodline (and also a man, considering Khura'in is matrilineal), so Rayfa and Nahyuta are the ones the public and other nobles actually know and care about and deal with. But wait! As it so turns out, The Wright Anything Information Guild (I feel like the actual guild name CAN'T have their freaking name on it front and center lol but you get the idea) happens to know some other things that aren't really expanded on in the original novel, and might be key to preventing Apollo's death so he doesn't follow the path of the original story, and also idk maybe Apollo and Trucy are half-fae or something like that and instead of like Aw Yay Bracelet in this AU it's more of a secret Iron Shackle Tool That Will Hurt I Mean Totally-Definitely-Help Us Later (still, in a way, passed down to him by Thalassa, but more as, like... she's kind of a secret hostage and does not manage to hide pregnancy number one so Apollo's now also a secret hostage, but she manages to escape so they don't know about Trucy, only she didn't tell Apollo basically anything to "keep him as safe as possible" or w/e, and......) Well, anyway. It got away from me before I even really wrote anything, that's all.

15. Secretly Alien - unfinished (currently 2.6k WIP)

Trucy POV, gen. Apollo gets sick of very consistently always losing the card games they play at the Wright Anything Agency (usually and in the specific instance the fic starts, Bullshit/BS) and in a stroke of inspiration somehow ropes everyone into playing Among Us instead. ("What! It's still a game of trying to lie/trick everyone else--like you like!--but I actually stand a freaking chance, so we're playing this or I'm going home.") Yes. This is my Among Us AU. Hi. They play Among Us. I'm justifying this one as prime AU territory however because A) Among Us has to exist in this universe, and even more pressingly, B) I found a way to force Phoenix to have--for at least a period of time if not moving forward in perpetuity--an actual smartphone instead of a Nokia-type brick cellphone. Which even under the wild but somehow plausible considering Ace Attorney circumstances I contrived, is just automatically a complete AU lmao. Fun Fact: I am so mad this one wasn't just totally finished day-of, lol. Why I ever thought I could give myself run of an entire WAA 4-person conversation and NOT get instantly derailed is beyond me. (And I want to get the prosecutors there, too?? Someone take the characters away from me.) Anyway. No, I have not written ANY of the actual Among Us part yet. Sigh. Also I haven't personally played amogus since like, 2021? maybe? And I know (now) that it's been pretty updated since then, but, ehhh, I'm just gonna run off like, lockdown-era amogus rules and vibes, lol. If I can get to the game part.

16 - Hobby Drama - conceptualized

I'm going to go out of order this time to say: Fun Fact: I have ALWAYS wanted to write a Reddit-style fic!!! I absolutely love them and I've read some REALLY, really good ones, so I've always wanted to try my hand at it. So theoretically this is the perfect time to make that a reality and write a r/HobbyDrama subreddit fic, buuut I got stuck before starting because I'm torn on two possible routes to take it (I can easily foresee myself caving and just doing both lol). - Option 1: Steel Samurai fandom discourse, always a fun/funny thing to think about, definitely would enjoy having Maya and Miles post some stuff for that. - Option 2: courtroom law fandom discourse, because come ON, how are those galleries ALWAYS SO FULL. The little wiggling rabba-rabba onlookers have GOT to have investment in this shit. And why WOULDN'T they, honestly. I've seen those trials and I have, in fact, spent a Lot of time thinking about them, not that any posts I've made lately would reflect that in any way or anything. Like I know it's hard to tell, but if I can be invested in the Lawyers Fandom, who's to say the people in the courtrooms aren't????? And I LOVE an outsider POV fic actually, I think they're so fun. So anyway. Reddit fic. You will be mine. Just as soon as I can hone my energy

And, what the hell, since it's so late now by the time I complete this "Heh This'll Be So Quick To Throw Together" post, I'll include today's, too:

17 - Flower Shop - conceptualized (at work earlier today. lol)

AU where Daddy Hawthorne is like, 97% less shitty. And the Hawthornes have a flower shop instead of like a gemstone industry or whatever. And he takes both Dahlia and Iris with him instead of dumping one of his daughters at a fucking secluded mountain temple and seemingly forgetting about her forever. On second thought, maybe what I actually mean is he's like 999% less shitty, lmfao. Anyway, Iris POV, but Dahlia (while not a "nice" person by any stretch) is not pushed to such extremes or nearly as desperate as canon, so Valerie lives, Terry Fawles lives, Doug Swallow lives, and Dahlia gets to live a good life overall--because as much fun as I love using her as a villain, she's really such a product of the absolute worst circumstances and I really do find her interesting so I've been kind of wanting to explore her in a less cartoonishly evil light, haha. (Don't get me wrong, I do love the cartoonishly evil light too, but I like spicing things up sometimes.) Like, she does (more) normal teen rebellion things ("Look at my inappropriately older boyfriend, Dad" "I'm going to talk my way out of speeding tickets and petty shoplifting as a bid for attention" etc.) and she still totally orders Iris around and Iris still totally does whatever she asks very much to her own detriment and has to learn to break away and be her own person. Fun Fact: I have a very passionate love for Iris/Adrian Andrews. Is that. Um. Is that a ship anyone else has ever considered before? Is that just me? I'm not sure but very possibly I'll just make this a rarepair fic as a treat, for me alone, teehee. (Like... it's about the becoming the master of your own destiny it's about breaking out of codependent cycles it's about how I genuinely honestly think they'd be each other's type and have chemistry even though they've obviously never interacted lmao... idk what to tell you.)

AND THATS MY AU-GUST UPDATE POST!!!

If you made it this far, take a sprinkle of my undying affection, and may you be blessed with AU inspiration if you so desire it!! (If you do not desire it, hopefully you are not cursed with it. I do not take refunds if you are. Sorry.)

Wish me luck with completing some more fics soon!!! Unfortunately weekends are actually my least free time because I work the most and the earliest hours so I have less time and am more tired, but also on Wednesday I'm leaving for a family vacation, which will either be the BEST thing to happen in regards to AU-gust or the WORST thing lmfao. If nothing else I have 2 flights, and I actually Love writing on an airplane, so fingers crossed for it being Good. <3

EDIT: Now with part 2 for the rest of the month here!