#long or short chapters

[okamirayne]

BtB READER ASK:

Still plugging away at the next chapter for Heaven Hold Us, and thought I'd drop this ASK for you guys. To all the BtB readers out there, your inquiring Word Witch would love to know which you prefer regarding Chapter length...thanks! xxx

[marsreds]

honestly, knowing that henderson was supposed to be an one-off character but endo liked him so much he kept him and then henderson gets what's honestly the best, most tightly plotted, most blatantly political [tee hee old guy with monocle bc monocles are Elegant™ → actually he only started needing it after the police beat the crap out of him for calling out the mythologizing of the war machine, like. holy shit] arc in the manga so far?

god tier tbh

[linkbetweenlinksau]

Chapter 2- Negotiations

Part 2

[riant-draws]

tw for panic attack, eyestrain (last page), swears

@tsunochizu's backwards through the snow!! this fic is my lifeblood

this scene's from chapter 15, in which iirc sig is like "ok pebbs is acting weird as hell time to get to the bottom of this" and pebbs wants some modified neuron flies for extra storage (which sig can send him the blueprints for), which ends up in them having a very... exciting video call

also I belatedly realized that the author made designs for sig and pebbs in btts but haha I am not redrawing pages~

this took me over a month I'm not even kidding

*dies*

[hinamie]

took 3 tries but i think i am finally free of korra plagiarism in yuuji's water tribe design

jjk atla!au with @philosophiums

[vapolis]

congrats on chap 5 release soon! you’re like almost halfway done with rywd??? that’s crazy and a huge accomplishment

that sounds absolutely crazy to me, but you're right! thank you as well <33

[purplebehittindifferent]

I guess I wouldn’t want my friend to know I committed genocide either…

masterpost

prev (INTERLUDE) / next (3::2)

[wormfolk]

this is the difference of reading Harrow the Ninth and Nona the Ninth to me

[astrobei]

the scene from acswy that thea has lovingly dubbed the “shorty short shorts scene”

(his feet are propped up on a chair btw. i just didn’t want to draw the chair.)

[starlightvld]

Bait & Switch, pt. 7

<< Part 1 // Part 2 // Part 3 // Part 4 // Part 5 // Part 6 // Part 7 // Part 8 >>

Based on "I wasn't in that tunnel."

Call of Duty, soapghost // CW: angst, Hurt/Comfort, MWIII spoilers

---

Soap flashes in and out of consciousness, his body trembling as he alternates between fever and chills. He's vaguely aware of when they pull into a garage, the already-dark night turning pitch black as the door closes behind them. Ghost gently pulls him from the car and Gaz and Price throw his arms over their shoulders as they half drag, half carry him into what looks to be a safe house kitchen. They lead him through the house and lay him on the softest bed he's felt in years.

He passes out immediately.

When he wakes, it's to the thin light of dawn creeping around the curtains and hushed voices behind him.

"Stop worryin'," Ghost says. "Gaz will be fine."

Soap has his back to the room, but from the closeness of Ghost's voice, he gathers that Ghost is in the bed with him. Price's gruff voice replies from somewhere on the far side of the room.

"He's been gone longer than expected."

"Because we weren't sure exactly when the contact would arrive. And without comms or phones, we're operatin' in the blind. He'll be alright."

Price grumbles. Soap shudders as a chill sweeps through him, and an involuntary whine escapes his lips. It's worth the embarrassment, though, when Ghost's warm body sidles up to curl around his back.

"Alright, Johnny?" Ghost murmurs.

"Cold. And hot. And... fuck. Just want this to be over."

"You and me, both. Gaz is working on getting you more saline bags. We grabbed what we could from the hospital, but you're about to run out."

"Wha' 'bout you?" Soap slurs as the heat of Ghost's body pulls him toward oblivion.

"Right as rain. Go back to sleep, yeah?"

Soap hums and drifts off again. The next time he wakes, it's to the scent of something savory wafting through the air. His stomach growls, and behind him, Ghost huffs a laugh.

"You awake or just gurglin' in your sleep?"

"'M awake," Soap mumbles, turning to face Ghost.

A long tube snakes out from under the covers, and Soap realizes Gaz must have returned with the saline bags while he was sleeping. He must've made a supply run as well.

"Any news?" he asks as he gingerly pushes himself up to lean against the headboard next to Ghost.

"Nothing worth mentionin'. We're here until Laswell thinks it's safe enough to move again. She's narrowin' down the possible traitor or traitors, but it's slow work."

Soap just nods as Ghost turns and hands him a bowl of rice and chicken covered in a mild sauce. Another growl from his stomach interrupts the quiet of the room, and Soap gladly tucks into the meal. When he finishes, Ghost takes the bowl and sets it off to the side.

"More?"

"No' right now."

A quiet permeates the space between them, but it's not uncomfortable. Ghost gingerly adjusts himself against the headboard, and then softly, quietly, he moves his hand to rest over Soap's on the mattress. 

The touch shouldn't feel so mind-shattering. He's been sleeping in Ghost's arms for two days now and even kissed him. But something about the way Ghost's warm hand curls around Soap's feels like the most significant thing to happen to him since Makarov stole him away from the 141 and broke him.

The quiet lingers. Soap breathes through the pressure in his head and turns his hand, slotting their fingers together. The world slows to the faint beat of a pulse against his fingers and the rise and fall of Ghost's chest in his peripheral vision.

"Don't know what's goin' on in that head of yours," Ghost murmurs, "but I wanted to make sure you know... nowt's changed for me when it comes to you. If you feel different—"

"I don't," Soap interrupts. "Feel different, I mean. If anything, I'm probably gonna be a clingy bastard for a long while."

A pink tongue darts out to wet Ghost's lips. It strikes him then that Ghost isn't wearing a medical mask any more. Soap turns to study Ghost's profile, and Ghost nods, a small smile lifting the corners of his mouth.

"S'alright with me, Johnny. If we're bein' honest, I'd rather not let you out of my sight ever again."

Soap nods and leans over, resting his head on Ghost's shoulder. "Fine by me."

The soft pressure of lips against his shaved head is almost as good as the warmth of their fingers tangled together.

---

It takes a week to wean Soap off Makarov's drugs, but to his frustration, the withdrawal symptoms don't abait much: headaches, chills, irritability, and worst of all, hallucinations. They're mild — just blurs of motion in of the corner of his eyes or vague figures hovering in shadows — but it's enough to be dangerous, especially when they're being actively hunted. Luckily, Ghost is always there to reassure him. Gaz teases them about being attached at the hip, but he can see the underlying concern when Gaz looks at him.

They all look at him like that, though. Like he might disappear on them. It's fine, though, because Soap pretty much feels the same way about them.

He's still waiting to wake up in a pile of his own excrement and find that everything was a dream.

Ghost's wound is also improving day by day, and he's started mild exercises to keep up his strength. Soap joins him when he can, desperate to stay strong. Desperate to be able to fight. 

He can't go back. He won't. 

They have their own room, but in spite of Soap's bravery with their first and only kiss, he decides it's best to let Ghost take the lead any anything further, especially considering Ghost's wound. They curl up together each night, becoming more comfortable invading each others' spaces, but Ghost keeps his hands limited to the non-erogenous zones and his lips confined to soft kisses to Soap's head, forehead, or occasionally the corner of his mouth. Soap reminds himself of Ghost's words — that nothing has changed — and tries to be content.

The days pass slowly, and they're all going a bit stir crazy by the time Laswell wakes them before dawn and tells them to pack up. They obey without a word. The house is already clean — they've been treating it like an op where they could be called away at any moment, and it pays off. Within ten minutes, they've got their personal items packed, the fridge contents packed into a cooler, and as many surfaces as they can reach wiped down for finger prints. It won't stop a detailed search, but it will slow their enemies down if they find the place.

Ghost and Soap move as a unit, piling into the car in their previous positions. Gaz and Price swap out so Price can drive. Laswell continues to be closed lipped about everything from her spot in the passenger seat, and whether it's because she suspects listening devices or just doesn't think they need to know, he can feel the tension rolling off of her as she turns around and hands each of them a gun and several clips.

"I hope we won't run into trouble, but I'm not taking any chances. If we're separated, RV at these coordinates." She rattles off a series of numbers, and Soap repeats them in his head to solidify the information as Laswell continues, "And trust no one but each other. No old friends. No family members. Anyone outside this vehicle is suspect. Understood?"

"Yes, Ma'am," the three echo in unison.

Laswell nods, turns back around, and closes her door. The interior light switches off, leaving nothing but the dim light of the dashboard as a bastion against the darkness.

Soap stares at the soft glint on the barrel of the gun is in his hand.

His palm curls around the grip, finger placed carefully away from the trigger. His heart beats in his ears as the garage door opener grinds into motion, the slow dawning of morning light permeating the space.

The gun in his hand gains shape, hard lines mixed with gentle curves revealed by the growing light. A whisper of reflex, of ground-in instruction, urges him to flip off the safety, curl his finger over the trigger, and eliminate his targets.

He sucks in a hard gasp and shoves the gun at Ghost.

"C-c-c-annae have it. Not yet."

Ghost doesn't even blink as he leans forward and shoves the gun in the waistband of his trousers at the small of his back. "More for me. If somethin' happens, you stick to me like glue, right Johnny?"

Soap feels Gaz's eyes on him, but it's Price whose gaze collides with his in the rearview mirror. "Alright, Soap?"

"Y-yeah. Stick to Ghost."

It takes ten minutes for his hands to stop shaking.

---

<< Part 1 // Part 2 // Part 3 // Part 4 // Part 5 // Part 6 // Part 7 // Part 8 >>

[aroaceleovaldez]

Hi i've read some posts of you about Tsats and it seems like you didn't like the book.

Honestly i'm with you in this 'cause i find it problematic on so many levels (characterizations, inconsistencies, ableism) but apparently there's gonna be a sequel???? What do you think about it?

i think i can pretty concisely summarize my thoughts about the sequel with:

Longer version: It just feels wholly unnecessary. There's no continuation to use for a sequel, really. The first TSATS was unnecessary to begin with but it was so focused on leaving no stone unturned that it functionally left no loose ends to tie up. There's just nowhere to go with it unless they do even MORE retconning and warping characters OOC to string some kind of plot out of, but even that wouldn't reasonably give them enough to make a full novel's worth of plot out of anyways, which means if this sequel is novel-length like the last then it will drag on SO. MUCH. TSATS1 already had horrible pacing problems. There's no way this won't be worse.

[karleksmumskladdkaka]

Diabolik Lovers Chaos Lineage Stellaworth Tokuten Short Stories (Orange family)

This booklet was originally part of the Stellaworth set for Chaos Lineage. It has three chapters, one for each family, all written from Yui's POV. They contain no spoilers for the visual novel, so they are 100% safe to read even for those of you who haven't gone through the routes yet.

Below are scans of the third and final story, which takes place in the Orange mansion.

I hope you all enjoy (*^▽^)/★*☽*☆

Edit: The story has been fully translated by @otomehonyaku ♡ヽ(´▽｀*)/ You can read it here

[carpisuns]

chapters: 21/21

Summary: Adrien’s favorite color used to be orange. Until Marinette.

An Adrinette fic with short, drabble-y chapters all involving the color pink

21. marinette

“Okay.” With a flourish, she finishes the swirl on the last cupcake and stands back. “Not bad, right?”

She wipes at her forehead with the back of her hand, leaving a tiny smudge of pink frosting behind. A lock of dark hair has escaped from her bun, threading down her shoulder.

“Adrien?” she prompts again. “What do you think?”

“You’re amazing,” he says.

Her lips twist into a smile. “I meant about the cupcakes.”

“Hmm. Let’s see.” He picks one up and raises it to his lips.

“Hey!” She tries to snatch it away, but Adrien has already stuffed the entire thing in his mouth.

“Too slow,” he says, cheeks puffed and voice muffled around a mouthful of vanilla and cherry.

Marinette puts her hands on her hips. “That was supposed to be for Rose’s party.”

He manages to swallow. “I’m sure she’ll survive with only nine hundred ninety-nine cupcakes instead of a thousand. Besides, don’t you want to hear my verdict?”

“Fine. How are they?”

Gently, he settles his hands on her waist. “Amazing. Because you made them. And everything you do is amazing, milady.”

She allows him to draw her closer, till there’s hardly any space left between them. “If you’re trying to be suave, it’s not working. You have frosting on your mouth.”

“Well, feel free to have a taste test.”

She huffs a laugh. “You’re so annoying.”

“Oh, bugaboo. It’s pronounced ‘alluring.’”

“Cut it out with the bugaboos and miladys. You’re gonna give your identity away, and then Master Fu really will take our miraculous.”

He brings his face close to hers, so that their noses are almost touching. “He could never. You heard him. We’re the perfect partners. The dream team.”

She glances at his lips. “That’s … that's not what he said.”

“Close enough.”

He closes the gap between them, capturing her lips with his. Her arms come up to drape around his shoulders, and his own arms tighten around the small of her back.

"Adrien," she murmurs, sighing against his mouth. Then her lips slant against his again, and he’s lost in her.

Marinette is his favorite person, and pink is his favorite color.

Pink like pastries and cotton candy and bubble gum.

Pink like the frosting she kisses from his lips. Like her hands in his hair and his name on her breath. Like her cherry-blossom cheeks and her sunrise smile.

Pink like her heart, in perfect sync with his.

“I love you,” he whispers.

She pulls back, studying his face, like she’s committing it to memory. Her eyes are bright and focused—the way they are when she’s trying to figure out her lucky charm. Like she’s somehow looking at him and in him and through him, all at once.

“I love you too,” she says (pink, like a rose), and the words are washed in red.

They’re the same color, really. He knows that now. Tints of the exact same hue. Ladybug was always pink, and Marinette was always red, and now, with all the pieces drawn together, he can finally recognize all the shades that make her up—from crimson to coral, scarlet to strawberry, and everything in between.

She pulls him back in, lips warm against his, and he can feel her dye him from the inside out, all her colors bleeding through him till his very bones are stained with them. Till he feels them singing through his veins and swelling in his lungs. Till he feels like he might burst with it—his favorite color, the color of her heart.

Love is pink, and so is Marinette.

[wardensantoineandevka]

Candela Obscura: Needle & Thread is about, if it is about anything, parent-child relationships and the desperate desire for a closeness in the face of a yawning chasm of separation, physical, emotional, or both.

Sean and Margaret, the creature and mother, Nathaniel and his father, Jean and hers, Allison and Lucas. Even Beatrix and the child she never had, transferred onto Sean. (Marion is the only major character who does not fit neatly and completely into this pattern, despite the brief look at his relationship with his father.)

That desire for closeness—even when there is immense strain in the relationship, even when that desire has been suppressed into more of an involuntary instinct—escalates over the chapter until incredible violence is being committed in an effort to reduce these distances.

These parent-child relationships are even weaponized repeatedly in the finale. Sean takes the deal to save his mother. The person in the cage observes that Nathaniel's father never liked him as a device to rattle him and his father's face is worn to force him to hesitate. Violet lashes out at Jean before she dies by telling her that her father was happy when she told him that Jean was no longer going to visit.

There is so much longing for a parent or a child in this chapter. Sean wants to be with his mother again, and Margaret wants her sons. Nathaniel craves his father's love, and in the end, his father reaches for him. Jean grieves for her father. The creature wants to be with their mother, and their mother is distraught when her child is killed. Beatrix is wistful for the child she did not have. Much of Lucas's screentime is devoted to missing his mother, and Allison misses her son terribly.

There is also much to be said about sibling relationships here: Sean and his brothers, Nathaniel and his, the creature and their sister. Sibling dynamics inform the relationship between Sean and Marion, and Sean and Nathaniel. That's not the focus of this post, though.

I believe that it is specifically this web of parents-children and the various distances in their relationships that really is the core of the chapter. This is about a desperately intense, even violent, desire for a closeness in those relationships and the willingness to do basically anything to overcome the distances.

[human-encounters-diary]

Day 16

As the human and I did not share any duties during this particular cycle, I decided now might be a fitting time to inform the Vitrichl about the aforementioned book, which could possibly grant a further insight into Terrans.

Despite the quite serious circumstances we are currently in, I was able to secure a time frame to initiate a conversation regarding this topic.

I repeated the information V-7 had been able to conjure on this as well as other stories and reports on humans.

"There seems to be one…obstacle, though: The book‘s last documented location is in system Skė-51-33, which does not seem to be even remotely near our current route.", I eludicated.

The Vitrichl seemed to consider the information given, keeping in mind the reason the SIIR Noxos usually avoids this particular system: its unfriendly and occasionally aggressive nature.

Concluding, I was able to convince the Vitrichl through the benefits this book could provide in the task of studying humans, causing the Vitrichl to eludicate that changing the route was currently not possible, but as soon as the chance was offered to us, we would make a short detour through this system to retrieve said book, given that the book was still located there.

In the meantime, I was tasked with retrieving as much possible information on this particular and other sources about humans.

Our arrival on Fendaar is imminent, as we are nearing the planet‘s atmosphere. Further reports will follow.

[kaelidascope]

Midnight Menagerie Chapter 19 is LIVE

**SHAKES UH OH DOGGY BAG OF TREATS**

This aint an April Fool's joke folks. This chapter is DARK and I wish I was kidding but I'm not LOL

The second biggest chapter I have ever written for MM is LIVE!

Please please please mind the content warning on this one guys. From here on out, we're getting into the darkest segments of the story. Every negative tag will be relevant. For the sake of spoilers, I'll only label the extremely graphic scenes. ALL ABOARD THE ANGST TRAIN! CHOO CHOO