#its quite short and for a fic

[themoonlitsojourner]

Welp, I just wrote a song. Accidentally

[greencatalystcomet]

im so excited for one year from now when there's an abundance of really long, like 100k+ word deadpool/wolverine fanfiction because. there is currently a drought

[kmesons]

while the concept of samuel existing in maia's room as some sort of afterlife has been wonderfully and sincerely portrayed in some recent fanworks, it's also very funny to me because I imagine the first few moments of samuel being in the room going something like

[california-112]

Fallen And Lonely

First, watch and give some love to this EXCELLENT short vid by @dicebarnart, which has lived rent-free in my mind ever since I first saw it a couple of days ago. There was a request for fic to go with it, and this is that :) It's about 700 words, just a slightly overgrown snippet. The title is from 'Someone To Stay' by Vancouver Sleep Clinic because the next lines are 'Will you fix me up? / Will you show me hope?' and YES SHE WILL. Anyway.

Dedicated to @azure-firecracker who tossed this prompt my way and who is the BEST. I hope you enjoy it <3

---

Something had happened.

There was a pair of squad cars and an ambulance, their red and blue lights staining the night in turn, and there was a handful of cops standing about, taking evidence photos and speaking with the pair of EMTs.

And there was Mulder.

Sitting on the hood of a police car, one arm sat curled around his ribs, and his head was bowed as he listened to a nearby officer's question. When he looked up to answer, though, the sight presented to Scully caused her to speed up what had previously been a dread-filled, almost hesitant, approach.

Mulder's mouth was a messy blood-red stain in an otherwise pale face, lips swollen and thankfully split; 'thankfully' only because any other alternative, given the arm still around his stomach and his hunched over posture, she refused to consider. His right eye socket was already filled with angry red bruising, which would no doubt develop and expand over the coming hours and days, and she has no doubt that there was more under the usually pristine black suit. This was now crumpled and slightly ripped, dusted with grit and dirt, and patched with mud and water, which glimmered darkly in the glare of the lights.

He was a mess.

The police officer beside him saw Scully approaching, guessed this must be the FBI guy's partner, and clearly read the expression on her face: overriding worry, with a slightly reduced panic and a simmering anger at the perpetrator of the violence. He made himself scarce, knowing that the two would want a moment alone.

Scully stopped just short of touching Mulder's shins, and caught the eye contact that he, surprisingly, offered. What she saw there was exactly what she had heard over the phone earlier that night: mainly pain, but also deep exhaustion- and a definite element of surprise.

"Mulder…"

It was the only word she could manage, her throat already constricting as tears sprung to her eyes. He managed to return a look that was equal parts shock and relief, but she only saw a moment of it; being careful of his ribs, she pulled him into a fierce hug, pressing her mouth against the scratchy fabric of his shoulder, desperately trying not to cry.

They were quiet for a minute, among the flashing red and blue of the police cars. If anything, Scully expected the silence to be broken by a question or a joke, not by a quiet, serious statement in a scratchy, tired voice, vibrating beside her ear and through their touching chests, Mulder's still-stiff muscles practically thrumming with the words.

"You came."

He had phoned her almost sheepishly, not really wanting to disturb her so late at night, not sure if his situation even warranted it. They hadn't hit him that hard; he could still see well enough out at least his left eye to drive, and he was pretty sure his ribs were just bruised, not broken. They didn't really know each other that well yet, he'd thought; she would probably just tell him to phone the hospital instead, and maybe call him back in the morning. There had been some serious deliberation before his throbbing head finally made the decision, taken out his cell, and been grateful it only needed a single press of a button.

He hadn't expected Scully's voice starting to quaver as she wheedled information from him, asking where exactly he was, if he was still in danger, telling him to stay put and awake. He hadn't expected this.

Hearing Mulder's words, particularly those two words, half a question, Scully hugged her partner even tighter, if that were possible. She felt, passionately, that she never wanted him to leave the safety of her arms ever again. She wanted to yell at him for running off, to plead with him not to keep doing this, to lock him away in the basement office where he could never get hurt. But instead, she took half a moment to get a hold of herself, then replied with a simple sentence of her own, spoken to him via the hands crumpling fist-sized marks in the back of his already ruined jacket. It would never cover the depth of emotion she needed him to feel, but it was a start.

"You called."

Beneath her arms, in the warmth and safety of the embrace, Mulder finally melted.

[pikkish]

idk if this is a good prompt but put doomguy in myhouse.wad I think he would find it enriching

Right, so I've been mulling on this one for a little bit now, n I'm not opposed to writing something for you, I'm just not... entirely sure what to write? Because the thing is, myhouse.wad doesn't actually really have anything to do with Doom as a story. Sure, Doom is important in that it's the vessel through which the story is told and one of the connections between the narrator and his dead companion. But as far as Doom itself goes, and the story about a man who was too angry/stupid to die, fighting demons and saving earth, none of that is at all relevant to myhouse.wad and its story. For all intents and purposes, Doomguy isn't actually a character in myhouse.wad. So I'm not really sure how exactly to fit him in there.

[useyourtelescope]

My Film Firsts with Leo Suter | BAFTA

[lokh]

oh my god. a manga where everyones actually wearing masks???

edit: NEVERMIND jumped the gun here it was just for one scene cos they were at a nail salon 😭

edit 2: hmm actually. depending on how recently this manga was drawn it could just be reflective of how not everyone wears masks. the customers are wearing masks in the salon but outside usually not but Sometimes. they are

edit 3: I WAS RIGHT??

[asleepinawell]

this little quest chain was one of my favorites in ew because of the perspective it gave into the ancients, a very different one from what little we get from emet and hermes. there’s pretty ample proof that their society was not in any way perfect and was actually really deeply flawed to the core, but this is a look at people, individuals, and ones outside of the main bunch we talk to

put in a read more to spare your dashes

they go to speed up the aether dispersal of some creations (animals) that were killed and they call the deaths distressing and want to find a way to pay respects to the fallen and bring peace to their souls. at the wol’s suggestion they gather flowers for the dead. and they say what amounts to a prayer over the bodies. it’s so very very different from how hermes believes everyone feels and how hythlodaeus spoke of ‘returning to the star’ being beautiful (though even hythlodaeus said a brief prayer for the first boss in ktisis hyberboreia)

and yes, they still talk about life and death in terms of ‘purpose’ and this is no way refutes the callousness towards other lives we’ve seen some of the ancients display in elpis, but my personal take is that it shows that some of them at least understood on some level that there were important things missing in their culture that they needed. even if they didn’t fully grasp why, they were searching for these missing pieces. in this case, a way to process grief and acknowledge the worth of a life, even a non-human life. and they also actively ask for the new ideas the wol presents and talk about incorporating them into their lives and duties

there’s also a ton of little side quests in elpis that involve one person asking you to find or check on another person, or to carry a message to them. there’s so many people who care about each other and are just absolutely godawful at expressing it in person and need the poor wol to act as an intermediary (this happens in present day as well but it was just every 5 seconds in elpis)

there’s one striking one where one person asks you to bring a second person a message about how that second person’s concept was approved and succeeding (I forget the exact details) in the hopes that it would dissuade them from returning to the star. it didn’t dissuade them and the first person accepted that pretty calmly, but the thought was there. there was this hope that they could keep someone they cared about around longer even if the argument they tried to use to persuade them came back to that grim ideology about ‘purpose’. they lacked the framework to think about it another way, but they still tried

it’s definitely a stark contrast from the shade amaurotines we saw in shb (assuming for the sake of argument that they were accurate depictions and not biased by emet which is a big assumption), especially the ones who turned the topic of ‘should we save the lives of others on the planet or just focus on ourselves’ into a casual debate topic as a pastime. there are really terrible ways of thinking about the world that have been ingrained into the population presumably from birth. that’s not something that can easily be changed. but it could be changed. the potential was there

at a societal level the ancient world was terrible in so many ways, and ultimately doomed if it couldn’t change, but at an individual level the people had so much potential and at least some of them were trying their best to make sense of the things their society denied them and adapt their lives

my personal takeaway from all this (which is just a headcanon aka an opinion and i’m not trying to sell as canon), was that if their society could have been changed then the ancients had the potential to have produced people who could have faced meteion. i’m leaving aside the questions of the timeframe and zodiark tempering everyone because that’s not my point. my point is that the ancients weren’t inherently unable to be who was needed to save their world. the density of their aether making them unable to interact with dynamis is highly symbolic of the flaws of their society, of course, but that shouldn’t have stopped them from talking to meteion, from showing compassion and understanding and hope in the face of despair

i’m not trying to take any jabs about any characters’ decisions in the story because the actual situation they were in was extremely complicated (like hey zodiark tempering people!) and that would also miss my point. mostly i’m just saying this makes the fate of their people even more depressing. they were an entire race of people who had all the potential that the sundered humans do despite being stuck in a shit society that happened to be shit in the exact way that made dealing with meteion and the final days a seemingly insurmountable task. their near-immortality and creation powers made it even harder for them to really understand the problem, but not impossible. they had the raw potential and lacked the tools to use it to save themselves. it’s just really damned sad

[akingdomscrypt]

I have only one thing on my mind rn. And it is definitely NOT what i need when trying to write an angst scene.

[phonkscribes]

The Sous Leader

As one of the first survivors of the fog and the self appointed leader given his knack for laying low and knowing how to survive, Dwight would probably have a problem with a strong and confident person who’s a natural at leadership.

You don't avoid eye contact, you speak clearly and directly when addressing your fellow survivors. You can coordinate the team better than he can, and at this point the only thing he has going for him is his seniority over you. It's just as it was back then as it's going to be now, Dwight Fairfield pushed off to the side as someone better than him takes over. That's what he thinks anyhow. He catches you when it's just you and him, wanting to talk about the roles that they have to play and how he's the 'captain' of their little group. He thinks to himself, who decided that? Jake was the loner, Meg didn't give a shit, and Claudette was being nice... probably?!

He's surprised when you aren't mad or annoyed by him. You see how he feels like he's on the outside looking in, not that you're going to step down by any means. While leading a group of people is what you're good at, you're not bad at taking orders either. A second in command, that's just what he needs. A little support goes a long way, and while not entirely sure of your agreement to let him do his thing, he notices the small things you do to help. If another survivor interrupts him while he's laying down the game plans, you cut them off and redirect the attention to Dwight. If they're arguing while things have gone to shit, your voice carries loud enough to bring everyone to their senses.

Someone having his back is all he ever wanted, tired of being the little guy who's treated like dirt. You sticking up and out for him makes him weirdly fortunate to have met you, just maybe not in these circumstances. Dwight looks out for you when he's sent into trials, hoping to find you through the Fog when the mist clears. When he feels himself on the edge, he thinks of you and what might you do if in a similar situation. He thinks of how you might act or guide the others, what you words you'd even say come to mind. When he steps through the woods to find himself at the campfire, he's so eager to find you to tell you how it all went and how he got through it together with the team. It's the fact that you bothered to listen to him at all means the world to him.

Out of everyone, he's probably the fondest of you.

[fixated-on-something]

Almost finished scene (aka chapter) 3 of the fic ✨

It’s been slow since my writing motivation is very fickle and unpredictable, but it’s going pretty well! The urge to just post little bits of it hhhGGHHGGGH

Not sure what format I should release it in though (I’ll be posting it on AO3… not sure if I should do like, each episode is a chapter and each scene is just separated by dividers, or if each episode should be it’s own fic and I should just have them connected as a series, making each scene be it’s own chapter???)

[cumplanecrash]

Oh, yeah, that's just Shen Yuan answering to the wrong name. I get it now.

[someoldfires]

an unexpected challenge when writing about vampires is that it is really difficult to describe people’s internal and external reactions to stimuli when those people do not have a heartbeat or need to breathe

[sehrgefaelltmir]

would it be dumb and/or wrong and/or selfish to delete a fic other people like just cause i don’t like it cause like. i kinda want to but i feel bad 💀

[arsenicflame]

sorry for not shutting up all day, anyway if anyones got some mid-long length izzy fic reccs, im prepping for mondayyyyy

[mirrortouchedsea]

Snowflakes and Sunsets

A Maplestory secret santa gift for @tareloin ! I hope you enjoy it!!

Adele returns to Ristonia for a day off.

---

Adele found herself walking the increasingly familiar streets of Ristonia again, cold wind making her shiver. She had been getting stronger as of late in order to fulfill her new role in life. She still felt weaker than she had before being locked up, but it was all slowly coming back to her. 

She hadn’t been paying attention when she ran into someone just outside the city. She began to apologize before looking up and seeing a familiar face looking back at her. He was smiling brightly, as if he had been looking for Adele. Maybe he had. 

The boy took Adele by the wrist and ran back to their treehouse hideout, which had more people walking around it than the last time she was there. He was excitedly talking about what they had to catch up on and what she had missed out on since she had been gone and asking her about her adventures. She smiled softly and replied with interest, summoning a single aether sword and moving it around them in the crowded space of the treehouse, illuminating the various books and maps scattered around. 

Jerome, the boy who had pulled her out of the void some time ago, was in awe at her command of the ethereal weapon and clapped when it finally blinked out of existence. I’m so glad my knight has been getting stronger, he said looking into her eyes. I’m happy to be of use to you, my lord, she responded. Despite the formal titles they used, their relationship was very casual. After Adele had begun to regain her memories and opened up with Jerome a bit, they had spent countless nights talking and discussing her memories, his past, and their plans for the future. 

It was those nights where she realized that there was nobody she’d rather serve than Jerome. He was kind and intelligent and while she worried he might get taken advantage of by people with bad intentions, he had a good head on his shoulders and always listened to her when she had a bad feeling about someone or something. He knew when to take risks and when to stay back, and despite all the trust she had in him, she still worried about their coup-in-planning while she was away. They were starting to finalize plans for Jerome to take back the throne and regain control of Ristonia and restore it to its former glory, a plan that would take many years once the ball was rolling, and Adele’s only job for now was to get stronger. 

But for now, she was back to check in on her charge and take a short break from training to catch up with her friends. It felt…strange for her to use that word to describe anyone. She hadn’t been treated well by her “friends” in the past, especially after they betrayed her when she couldn’t keep going with their new Godking’s rule. Jerome and the others were warm to her, though, and she felt as if she could truly speak her mind and express her desires to them and they would listen. 

Adele was brought back to the present by Jerome asking another question. Have you ever seen snow, he asked, looking behind her. Snow, the word was unfamiliar on her tongue. No, she replied and just as quickly, Jerome ushered her to stand up and go outside. There were small flakes of white falling gently from the sky, Brook and Laddie were catching some of them on their tongues. Adele held out a hand to catch some, but they melted as soon as they touched her skin. For some reason, she felt disappointed that she couldn’t get a good look at the little flakes before they disappeared. She also realized that she had seen snow before on her travels, though something about seeing it in her new home, the orange sky illuminating her friends as they took a much needed break by running around catching snowflakes made her feel warm inside despite the chilly breeze that continued to blow around them. She had nowhere else she’d rather be.