#moments lost moments gained

[fuckyeahgoodomensfanfic]

Good Omens Fic Rec: moments lost, moments gained

With frantic, fumbling steps, Hamish hurries back to his car, grabs his radio, and alerts headquarters.  “Yes, uh,” He huffs with urgency, “This is PC Hamish Black; I’ve got two folks out here off the A30, both suffering from severe injuries and unresponsive. One burn and one… impact, maybe? I can’t tell. I need emergency units here as soon as possible.”  Hamish takes another look at the two men strewn across the highway, the rubble and flames surrounding them both. He vaguely hears headquarters responding to his alert.  “Please, hurry,” he mutters.   Crowley and Aziraphale are expelled from their respective realms when their partnership is found out, and find themselves waking up in hospital as humans, with no memory of their previous natures, and no memory of each other.

Length: 12,895 words

AO3 Rating: Mature

Best for: Safe in Public, Human AU

Triggers: Injury/Memory Loss

Read it here, fic by commodorecliche, Dervila

*Minor Spoilers* The only thing negative thing about this story is that is ends!!! This was such an intriguing story! Crowley and Aziraphale are found burned and broken in the middle of the road with no memory of who they are or what happened. Though you never get the full details, it's clear to us what must have happened.

They wake up together in the hospital and we follow along for their stay. Their memories don't come back to them, but somethings are unforgettable. Like that Aziraphale likes books, Crowley likes old cars, that they dine at the Ritz, and Crowley calls Aziraphale Angel. They could never forget about each other. The muscle memory remains.

This is an excellently paced and written story. It'll break your heart a bit, but nothing too heavy. I grieve for them because of the time and memories they've lost, but the important part is that they're together. They can be together now. Safely. And maybe it isn't the life they deserve, but they'll figure it out together.

Read it here, fic by commodorecliche, Dervila

[lunarcrown]

Old stains and new stains

FINAL CHAPTER IS OUUUT

[moderndaypandora]

Hob is going to come home one day two months into Dream's retirement (and seven weeks into their marriage) and Dream's going to be full Victorian maiden on the chaise lounge, arm covering his eyes.

Hob, who is not a fool: Want to talk about it, or want to be consumed by the agonies for a little while longer while I prepare dinner? You got groceries, right?

Dream: [horrible groaning dirge of assent]

Hob: I'm starting to get a little concerned, dearest

Dream: I went out to. Obtain groceries. And the woman at the till said 'enjoy your food'.

Hob: And you said?
 Dream: "My thanks. you as well."

Hob: My poor love. Have a kiss to ease the sting.

Dream: [accepting the forehead kiss as his due] I can't go back to that grocery store in this lifetime.

Hob: Understandable.

Dream: Can we fake our deaths tomorrow?

Hob: Give me two weeks to wrap everything up, then we can.

Dream: <3

[fancyhats-and-fennelsbuds]

Quote from an newspaper's excerpt. Date 3 June 2001. In The Place Where Cartoons Reside:

"(...) June 2001, day of Atlantis's premiere. Time for celebration in Toontown, where new people are being welcomed. The air it's fizzly as only the young days of summer can be. The party echoes with sparks of amity and laughter. Bonds are being made. Antics are unintentionally rolling. It's a gentle day."

__________________________________

I had this art in mind for so long and it's finally alive!!! YEaaarrg. Wholly remade after the famous Sophia Loren and Jayne Mansfield side glance photo. I believe and stan that Jessica and Helga would have the wholesomest chemistry togheter (Poly Romantic? Platonic? Bromance/Sismance? Whichever. It will be stellar.)

[spotaus]

If I have energy I want to draw out some designs for an au I'm spontaneously writing.

(Medieval times, there's a Prophecy. Nightmare rules over this kingdom and is supposed to complete this prophecy, he refuses to because it would harm the people. Dream was sent away and banished by Night because he was dis-illusioned into thinking the prophecy was a Good Thing abd what he was raised to complete. Night collected his Knights (Killer, Dust, Horror, and Cross most recently) and trains them and tells them the truth of the prophecy. They're loyal to him. One day the magic of the prophesy (Apple Magic) leaves Nightmare unexpectedly, returning him to the state he was in before he accepted the mantle. This puts a target on his back and gives Dream a huge advantage in maybe making a comeback. The Knight's decide that their King (newly a young lad and variably scared and frightened) must be protected and they run the kingdom as he normally would, while also ensuring he survives and that the prophecy can't be completed.)

[twinstxrs]

thinking about how gorgug + kristen perceive both their own deaths & each other’s, and how that impacts their relationship. bc i feel like freshman year kristen was too caught up in her newfound knowledge of the nature of her own god to truly clock & process gorgug’s internal revulsion of where he went after he died, & freshman year gorgug wasn’t familiar enough with the complexities of other people to truly lock onto the sorrow buried within the chaos of kristen’s upward/downward/sideways spiral until she was seemingly on the other side of it. & i wonder if they’ve ever really talked about it (unlikely), or if they’ve just cracked very few jokes that didn’t land and decided to never quite do the work & dig through that part of their relationship. but there’s a kinship there; kristen specifically singles out gorgug to tell him she died again, and gorgug apologizes that he wasn’t there with her this time. gorgug takes one of the finger bones off kristen’s newly/long-time decayed corpse to have an anchor to something in the world. despite the fact that they were in different places after death, having been together during it means everything.

anyways what i’m trying to say is i think they should talk about it.

[radmista]

Sowing seeds of discontent and disharmony by hanging up on my parents birthday phone call the second my mom asked if I gained weight. Hope that sits badly on their minds while they think about how that's the first call I've engaged with them in 2 months and it was for the dogs birthday. Dad scrambling to text me for my mom that she didn't mean it. Like fuck I told her I've been having a rough month and day. She couldn't keep it to herself that badly. Fucks sake

[essenceofarda]

.

[ilikedetectives]

Hi Colin, what's the endgame for Kalius (and Minty)? Does Kalius take a Balduran title at all or is it just Absolute power?? 😇

Hello hello! Minthy and Kalius become the Absolute, then they *call drops* on that illithid throne after Kalius proposes (they're practically engaged 7th time prior with all the rings on Minthara's fingers). After that they begin their conquest of Menzoberranzan and get Kalius' cambion wings back from Mizora (Kalius made a deal with Mizora a long time ago: trading her cambion powers and wings so the person she loved the most no longer had to suffer from terminal illness' pain).

Then things happen and Kalius reincarnates into Lily, The Dark Urge.

[miiaoq]

The Front Bottoms // The Pageant STLMO 9/25/24

[dennisboobs]

talking to macdennis shippers makes me realize how much more i enjoy charden lmfao

[lordkingsmith]

@augment-techs more ideas but this time for Nora lol

Ladybird ladybird fly from your home

Your children are missing;

They started a fire.

Three are guilty they must atone

Save the one whose feet did tire

Sloane alone will go back home

Whispered to her in her sleep, causing Nora’s eyes to snap open with a curse. Her life had been, for the third time in a year, upended. First her husband died in a car accident, and then her brother who’d abandoned her turned up. Young as the day he’d vanished, babbling quickly and with such remorse she couldn’t help but believe the things streaming out of his mouth. And after him, well…she sat on the bed, trying to focus on it all in order to get her bearings and rage properly going.

An old knot in her chest had been untied, and then retied in a new way. His utter remorse had recontextualized so very much. So too had the explanation. The Autumn King likes the pretty ones, the kind ones. It was an old warning and a true one. The king liked the pretty ones, which Waylan Spark she could now see, was. He’d always been the partly unknown much older brother who brought candies and puzzles and games whenever he visited. Who offered to take her on his excursions into various nature places to ‘help him’ take pictures. The one who’d wrapped his arms around her like he’d never let go when they buried their dad. But the wide eyes and soft voice, expressive fingers and athletic form and those pearls accenting every catch of light in his hair-and Nora the adult knew her brother was pretty. Too pretty to escape notice from anything that considered beauty the most important quality. Aside from kindness.

Immediately realizing she was a mother, and giving her the coat to protect her children also told her more than his words he was one of the selflessly sort of kind ones too. ‘I never stopped trying to get to you’ also clued her in. When he was pulled back into the forest, she tried to hold on like she’d never let go. He was ripped from her arms anyway.

They’d been getting ready for the community college and high schools for the three youngest, her and her Waylon, her oldest. He was an electrician, stumbling into his father’s role after the man had died and doing his best. He was the same age as her brother when he went missing, she thought sourly as she put her boots on in the middle of the dark night. But he wasn’t his namesake. Too much of his father in him. Too wary and self serving. Asked far too many questions, always coming up with get rich quick schemes. He was responsible, and was a doer, and loved his family. She could give him that. When it behooved him he could be selfless, and it irked her he’d chosen now to do so. She’d managed to head off the questions with distracted anger till they’d gotten home. Everyone in town it seemed, staring at her in pity as they went about their pre planned day. She was shaking by the time she was done and home, slumped in a kitchen chair. It was then she responded to the questions.

He’d asked about Waylan first, asked if it was really her brother. What was going on, why was she wearing that fur coat-was it really rabbit fur? Nora had laughed hysterically in the store at the questions and again at home, head in her hand as she stared at mold on the wall.

“Mom” said Sloane, her youngest at barely seventeen. The girl dyed her hair black and cut it short. An odd way to separate herself from the blonds and redheads in the home, but effective. Sloane offered her mother a coffee. Good girl, but Nora knew it was done with ulterior motives. Currently, Sloane wanted her mother to calm down and give them the scoop on what was going on. A girl of few words and somehow the biggest gossip in the town. Still, the drink was appreciated.

Somehow, as Nora thrust her hat and gloves on angrily enough to tear the rim of her good wool hat, she wasn’t surprised it’d been Sloane to hang back and watch. She didn’t like doing things she liked talking about them. The classic fly on the wall. Luckily had never done this maliciously, but it was still annoying now.

It was half empty by the time Nora was done. “Waylan left when I was a kid.” She said sourly. “Sometimes it happens, especially around here. Legend has it the Autumn King is a powerful fae who views the towns in and around his forest as handy places to acquire play things. People who are kind, who are pretty, who suit his mood.” She’d grimaced. “Guess it’s not a legend, is it.”

There was a missing persons list practically a mile long, and Waylan’s face was the last one currently hung up in that mess of old posters. Allegedly all the missing people were the ones taken by the king, and now it felt…well. Far too likely. Well-he’d been the last till she’d had to hang her four’s posters, swallowing down rage and tears and knowing damn well where all four probably were.

“So do we get him?” Maeve asked. Second oldest, and a nurse at the local emergency clinic. Nora saw the most of herself in her eldest daughter, and the most kindness. She wasn’t a looker, and had a habit of as she put it, mercy lying. However her retributions were calculated, swift, and always deserved. As was her generosity. “We go, get your brother and come home.”

Nora slipped the rabbit fur coat on, carelessly left behind by her well meaning but incredibly stupid children. She could imagine it was Maeve’s idea. Her husband, Alistair, had also lost a sibling to the forest, two years before Nora lost Waylan. It felt oddly fitting Maeve and Waylon would be the two who’d most likely convinced the others to go in. Go get Maev and Waylan. Their namesakes. Fix a wrong they had no business fixing because that was her two oldest. She sighed at her reflection. Snubbed nose, wide set eyes, wrinkles and a faint scowl always at her lips. Her hair, in her youth especially, was such a dark red it looked like dried blood. The exact opposite in every way to her brother. People like the fae called her homely. Her Alistair had called her beautiful. She missed him, terribly.

“No Maeve” she’d snapped at the girl. “I don’t know what I’m going to do. Or how. But you four ain’t gonna do it with me.” Waylan begging her to keep those four safe had been badly unsettling, and while she figured out how to help him, she’d protect them.

If she’d been less tired, perhaps, she might have noticed the four clustering together in the living room as she went to bed. Al waving his hands and whispering as the oldest two rounded on him quietly.

Their son, Alistair Junior, or just Al as he generally preferred, liked causing mischief. A terrible braggart and a coward. He hiccuped when he was afraid. Middle child no doubt dragged along by his two much more brave older siblings. He looked so like Maev, apparently, he’d been mistaken by older folk as her more than once. A brown blond similar to the fur of a fawn. An easy smile. Freckles and an infectious laugh. Daring, as long as he couldn’t get in trouble. She loved the boy, he drove her up the wall but she loved him.

She grabbed her Alistair’s shotgun out of the shed and loaded it. Could you hurt a fae king with a gun? They were about to find out. She stomped out of the house holding it, cursing at the cold. The dark. The king who summoned her. Her idiot children.

“Betcha I can guess what happened.” She told the frozen air as she headed for the trees. “Waylon and Maeve decided to use their idiot brother as a decoy. He hiccups when he’s afraid, so the noise would draw suspicion. Then they left Sloane to stand watch as she said her feet were tired. They weren’t, she just wanted to see what would happen to the other three.”

She sighed as she plodded on, careful of hidden roots in the snow. “Maeve and Waylon halved it. Took each room on the levels Al wasn’t, do I have it right so far?”

The forest didn’t answer. She continued with a sigh. “I don’t think they realized you’ve been sleeping with him, did they? No. They wouldn’t. They weren’t close enough to see all the scars on him.” She looked at the forest. “You bit him hard enough to scar! On his hips! Yes I noticed!”

It echoed back to her almost mockingly. She scowled but continued walking. “They found you both in the bed. Probably Waylan far enough away they felt they could pull that chain on his neck loose and get him off the bed without you noticing.” She could see the old manor in the distance.

“But you weren’t actually asleep, were you. Maybe you let them get as far as the door. Maybe Waylan shouted for you, maybe he was quiet because he did want to get out again.” She stood at the door.

“And that’s when Al got chased into the kitchen, and decided to have a little fun. He likes fireworks, and isn’t allowed to play with fire or gunpowder anymore. Genuinely I am sorry about that part.” She hefted her gun. “Pyromaniac with a heart of gold, what can I do.”

She knocked on the door. “May I come in?”

It opened on its own and she walked inside. She knew then she was in the other realm with the opulence and the fall lighting of a mid October evening. The king stood in shadow, waiting for her. She folded her arms.

“You could have waited your turn to take Waylan Spark or Maev Hutcher.” She spread her hands. “And now you’ve had to deal with my kids for four months in your realm.”

“Come.” He turned and she followed. “It’s only been a few days, here.” Was murmured. “It went more or less how you’ve said. Not often I meet a mother who knows her children.”

“Forgive me but it doesn’t seem you get out much.” Nora said with the barest kindness or warmth in her voice. “Not meeting more responsible people feels more of a direct case of your own actions.” He gave her a sharp look as she looked at him blandly, evenly. No matter what, he had a shroud of shadows obscuring most of his features, and she knew he did this for her sake. She wanted to needle him, but not enough that he felt prudent to drop the manners.

They walked down stairs as the air grew musty. “Maev.” The king murmured. “I remember her. Pretty thing. Blond, green eyed. So you married her brother.” Again strange eyes regarded her. “You named your two oldest after the missing?”

“Felt prudent.” She responded. “You know there’s a superstition out there? The king won’t take people he’s already taken. So trick him by naming the kids after the missing.” A low rumbling laugh.

“I did not know this.”

“You really don’t get out much do you.” Nora observed again, less bland and more discerning. “That explains a bit.”

“Excuse me?”

She shook her head wryly. “A little difficult to explain. Plus, you’ve stolen my brother, my sister in law, and now my children. I don’t wish to stay in your house and talk longer than I need.”

“Infuriating. I don’t have to give them back, then.” She stopped. Turned on her heel. And began walking back the way they’d come. “What are you doing?” He was at her heels. Of course he was. She grit teeth and continued.

“You don’t want to give them back because I don’t want to have small talk.” She snapped at the shadow she didn’t quite dare look at. “Fine. You brought me here to get my children, but if you’ve suddenly changed your mind it’s alright. I’ll go.”

A low growl. “Take your insolent whelps and let me in peace, woman!” She turned to him, shadows sliding into place over sharp teeth and strange eyes and antlers in places they shouldn’t. She swallowed a wave of revulsion down.

“Then no more small talk.” She said sternly. “Don’t toy with me. Unlike the others you’ve got, you’ve had to beg me to come. You’re not doing me the favor, here.” She was intensely proud of her foolhardy children in this moment.

Another growl before the king stalked again towards the stairs at the end of the hall. Nora hustled to keep up this time.

The holding cells might as well have been called an open cemetery. Nora held the sleeve of her coat over her nose from the smell. “Bury them.”

“They broke in” the king snapped. “Or directly went against me. They can rot.”

“How much does my brother come down here to grieve, your highness?”

Silence. “For him. Bury them.”

To her surprise, he nodded shortly. “Very well.”

Nora had the sudden feeling the reason Waylan had lasted so long in the king’s home wasn’t just an interest in a toy. It only made her see red. Her father had hit them, hit her mom. Her mom had apparently walked into the forest rather than put up with it. She had abandoned Nora. If she hadn’t left-or left Nora with her dad, Waylan wouldn’t have had to come home when their dad died. The king wouldn’t have taken him.

She was also sure her father had loved her mother. It didn’t stop him from hurting her. Hurting them. The king felt like an echo and she grit her teeth against the vitriol she wished to scream out.

He opened a door at the very end of the stone hall. Sloane was sitting curled against the wall while her other three were shackled across from her in various states of banged up. Her brother, thankfully in an oversized shirt, offering a sugar packet of all things to Al. Probably for the incessant hiccuping.

She was seven and had just stopped crying. Waylan was already in the kitchen. He was pressing a bag of peas to his face while leaning against the sink. When he noticed her he smiled tiredly.

“Hi No-No.” he said as he knelt to her.

“Did daddy do that?”

“…yes” he said carefully. “Did it scare you.”

She began hiccuping as she declared “no! No he did NOT” while stamping her foot. Waylan laughed before ruffling her hair fondly. He pulled a sugar packet out of his pocket. The peas went on the table for the time being.

“Sugar cures hiccups.” He said as he tore the packet open and offered it to her. “Try it.” She let him tilt the sweet granules into her open mouth.

They went away so fast she giggled. “Like magic.” He smiled back, tiredly.

“Something like that.”

“Was mama taken by magic?” The smile vanished. He shrugged. “Are you gonna stay?”

He shrugged again. “As much as I can.” Waylan said. “Magazine pays a lot of money for pictures. I’ll do as much as I can around here, but I’ll probably have to go to places they ask.”

He handed her two more packets of sugar and got her a glass of water. “Go back to bed, Nora. We’ll be okay.”

“Sugar cures hiccups.” She said, maybe to herself and maybe to the king. “Waylan taught me that.” The king snorted.

“Even not knowing who he is, he knows how to cure hiccups.” Ir was so ridiculous she wanted to cry. She blinked very hard, willing them away. This was neither time nor place.

“Sweetness.” Waylan dropped the empty sugar packet and turned to the king with obedient expectation. There were new bruises along his exposed arms. A black eye partially swollen shut. Ah, Nora thought. So you did try to escape with them. “To the study. Now.” The king ordered. Waylan looked at Nora’s children pointedly as the king sighed. “I’ve brought their mother. The study. Now.”

Waylan regarded his sister with none of the recognition he’d had for her before. Empty but friendly blue eyes regarded her curiously before Waylan pressed his palm to the wall. Stairs opened from a crack and he ascended. They closed behind him as though they’d never existed. Presumably he was making his way to the study. Presumably this was how he slipped down before.

“I take it he’s been down here taking care of them whenever you’re not looking?” Nora asked after a long moment. The king didn’t deign a response. Sloane was staring at her mother, eyes flicking between the king and Nora wildly. Nora walked to her youngest with her arms open. Sloane rushed into them.

“Take her and go.” The king said. “And the fire inclined.”

“You’ve got a Waylan already, you’ve got a Maev!” Nora shouted as she rocked her daughter back and forth. “Why aren’t you satisfied? They caused you enough grief and you’ve ruined my life already. Not them. Not those two.”

“I want retribution for my house!” The king roared.

“They wouldn’t have set it on fire if you hadn’t stolen Waylan, if he hadn’t fought so hard to come back to me!” She roared back as she surged to her feet. “You shouldn’t have taken him away in the first place!”

The forest surged around her as snapping teeth growled, the king’s madness inducing face inches from hers. “He is mine!” The king growled.

“He was mine first.” Nora hissed back. “You could have waited.”

She closed her eyes. “Would you like to make a deal? If you win the wager, Waylan’s yours. Forever. And one of my idiots.”

“C’mon ma…” Al muttered and Nora held a finger to him.

“You choose one to keep as payment for the fire.”

“And if you win?”

“If I win I get Maev and Waylan and all my kids.” She snarled. “And you don’t take anyone else for the entirety of my life.”

“A high price, your winning.”

She cocked the gun into his stomach. “I normally wouldn’t threaten my host” she snarled, “but we’re long past niceties. I can be the worst thorn in your side. do you want to see if an iron bullet shot point blank into your stomach would kill you?”

“A deal, then.” The fae snarled. “But I decide the rules of the game.”

Nora set the gun down and tipped her head defiantly at the king.

“Go on then, your majesty. Set your terms.”

[dansfakeveto]

idk if this is gonna be a controversial take but it’s kind of refreshing and reassuring to see matt gain weight in real time despite working out every day cause same literally same

[abyssembraced]

Where did Ghost really go before returning to Hallownest ?

Frankly, the question that was asked of them was one that Ghost wouldn't mind knowing the answer to themself.

Their memories... Even their early ones from when they first returned to Hallownest were hazy and fragmented. The more challenging fights they'd faced in the Crossroads and their first encounters with the bugs they'd come to call their friends still existed in their mind, yet lay scattered and untethered from each other with unknowable gaps in between, with no certainties as to even the order in which any of the events occurred.

Before that? They knew hardly anything of their past.

What did they do in the vast, endless wasteland outside Hallownest? What caused them to return to the fallen kingdom? Why did they even leave it in the first place?

They didn't know.

They typically didn't care to think on those questions much, either—it made more sense to focus on the present, and the things they knew now, rather than dwell on an unrecoverable past. Yet, here they were, being asked to recount those lost memories.

They... Could at least make an attempt?

Grasping at those memories was hard. Though they knew for a fact that they had spent much of their life outside the kingdom's bounds, it was as though the memories of that time had never existed in the first place.

But... They could fight. Even before coming back to Hallownest, they already knew how to wield a nail. So, then... They must have met someone out there. Travellers, perhaps. Someone who taught them how to fight—or at least the basics of it, anyway. Perhaps they were even the one to gift them the nail that had since carried them through many battles, or maybe that was a different Someone.

But who? Ghost couldn't picture them. They didn't even know for sure that such a person had even existed, but it only made sense, right?

...

There was only one time that they had ever managed to recover a long thought lost memory, and that was with the Dream Nail. If they were to enter their own dream once more, unlock the hidden secrets within their own mind... Would that give them answers? Would it do anything at all?

Although... Did it even matter? The stranger's curiosities aside, they... Didn't particularly care about discovering their past. It wasn't as though whatever it was that had happened back then could be changed. Nor did they think that learning anything new about it would affect their present life. They were happy where they were right now, with their family and friends in the recovering Hallownest.

Yes.

They didn't remember what they did before their return to Hallownest, but that was okay.

[mishkakagehishka]

Banging on the floor

[batz]

-