#one more ficlet in this universe and i will have No Choice but to piece them together somehow on ao3 | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

tennessoui · 4 years ago

Note

hi all of your aus are amazing! pls what happens with divorced!obiwan and the twins?

hey!! sorry this took so long i had to think of an appropriate cliffhanger

this is a continuation of this ficlet and this ficlet, where divorced!obi-wan accidentally acquires a partner and a set of twins.

(2k WHOOPS)

The twins are not, and probably have never been described by anyone except their father, angels. They take to Obi-Wan as well as Obi-Wan takes to them, which is to say that all three of them watch each other suspiciously until one day Luke launches himself off the top of the fridge--how the fuck did he manage to get up there--and Obi-Wan drops his morning toast in a frantic bid to catch him.

After that, Leia and Luke apparently decide he is Another Anakin Who Is Just Around A Lot Less But Is Better At Reading Bedtime Stories and deign to treat him as such.

Obi-Wan decides that he’s going to have a heart attack by the age of fifty. Do all children see a childproof house as a challenge?

It somehow takes both a longer and shorter time to win over Anakin’s favor, mostly because Obi-Wan isn’t sure what the man’s thinking at any given moment. He seems to blow hot and cold depending on how he woke up or how the work day goes. Some days, Obi-Wan comes home from campus and Anakin and the twins have waited to eat until he’s there. Sometimes they’ve eaten and there’s a meal under foil on the stove just for Obi-Wan.

(“I don’t know how you do it,” Obi-Wan tells him one night after the children are put to bed. “I mean, work from home with your job, mind the children, and cook?”

“They made me head of the R&D department a few months ago,” Anakin admits, taking a sip of his second glass of wine. “So I’m doing a lot more checking through other people’s work instead of making my own. It just means I can do that and make something edible--no, really, you just can’t cook, Obi-Wan, I’m not the best either.”

“Do you miss getting to make something other than food?” Obi-Wan asks eventually, giving himself enough time to recover from the sound of the other’s giggles.

Anakin shrugs languidly. “It’s better salary, and I’m the youngest ever in the company to have the position. Means I’ll pay off my student loans quicker, same with my mom’s hospital bills. Doesn’t matter what I want.”

Obi-Wan’s chest hurts and he wants to lean across the gap between their chairs and place his hand on Anakin’s arm, but they don’t know each other like that. It’s only been a month and a half since they moved in. Still. “It always matters what you want,” he insists. “And I think you’re amazing.”

Anakin blushes bright scarlet and takes a huge gulp of wine, and Obi-Wan wonders if this is a throwing-yourself-off-the-fridge break through.)

(It’s not because the next day, Anakin doesn’t say a single word to him, which bothers him more than he’d like to admit.)

(“Am I in the wrong for wanting to get along with my housemate?” Obi-Wan asks Quinlan despairingly during their office hours that he should be using to grade papers. Instead all he can think about is Anakin Skywalker and the goddamn cold shoulder he’s been getting from the man for the past three days.

“Yeah,” Quin says absentmindedly, marking something with a red pen before looking up at Obi-Wan’s outraged intake of breath. “I mean, no. I mean, sorry, Obi, what are we even talking about now? Is it still your hot new roommate with the two kids? Because that’s what we were talking about an hour and a half ago.”

Obi-Wan crosses his arms and leans back in his chair. “I’m just not sure I appreciate--”

“And you said he’s not been hanging around in the living room when you get home? But he’s still leaving you meals in the kitchen? And you’re upset about the free food?”

Obi-Wan is upset at the lack of Anakin’s presence, but he thinks that’s probably not the right thing to say here.

“Maybe he’s just tired?” Quinlan puts down his pen and rests his chin on one of his hands as he looks at Obi-Wan. “From the kids and the job and putting up with your moody ass. C’mon, Obi, what’s really getting you worked up?”

Obi-Wan purses his lips and stares at the desk in front of him, but he had come to Quinlan for help. He should at least be honest about what’s eating at him, even though he knows how silly it will sound when given a voice. “...Satine always waited up for me,” he mutters. “Until she didn’t.”

Quinlan’s quiet for a worryingly large amount of seconds, before he reaches out to pat Obi-Wan gently on the arm. “Oh, Obi,” he says pityingly. “Repeat after me. You cannot make your new roommate your rebound from your thirty year marriage.”

Obi-Wan scoffs. That’s not the problem at all. “That’s not the problem at all,” he says, not defensively in the slightest. “I think I’m just worried about the children not having enough structure in their lives.”

“Right,” Quinlan says, not quite managing to hide the skepticism in his voice. “Then you should talk to him. For the sake of the children.”

Obi-Wan will absolutely not be doing that, but it’s a nice thought.)

The real turning point in Anakin and Obi-Wan’s relationship happens five months after the Skywalkers move in.

Anakin and Obi-Wan are in the living room. Anakin is trying to braid Leia’s hair while Obi-Wan tries to pretend he isn’t watching. From the kitchen, there’s a very, very loud crash and the sound of something shattering.

Both adults leap up from their seats immediately and run to the other room.

Luke is standing in the epi-center of disaster, little face scrunched up like he doesn’t know whether or not to cry. At the sight of his dad and Obi-Wan, he starts to wail, moving forward and reaching for Anakin.

Obi-Wan, who is wearing shoes inside the house (a point of contention between himself and Anakin), grabs Luke roughly and picks him up by the armpits before he can cut his feet on the glass. He hands him over to Anakin to soothe, stepping further into the kitchen to find the dustpan he keeps in one of the pantries.

It’s very obvious what broke, though Obi-Wan can’t for the life of him understand how Luke got ahold of Satine’s heavy cake stand. He can definitely understand how Luke dropped it, as the thing was ridiculously heavy.

It had been one of the only things left in the house that had been Satine’s. She’d left it, and Obi-Wan had been too bitter or petty to point it out to her. Yes, it had been her mother’s. No, keeping it had not made him feel any better. But it’s not like Satine ever baked anything anyway.

Good for Luke, actually, for doing what Obi-Wan never could bring himself to do.

He grabs the broom and dustpan and marches back to the pieces of shattered glass. Anakin has placed Luke on the counter, ostensibly to check to make sure his feet are fine if the boy would ever let go of his father’s neck. Leia is peering around at the mess on the floor.

When Obi-Wan comes back and starts sweeping everything away, she darts forward to pick up a rather sizeable chunk.

“Don’t touch that,” Obi-Wan says sharply, much harsher than he intended. Leia drops it instantly and scurries back to her father, eyes wide and sort of watery. Oh, fuck.

“Hey,” Anakin snaps immediately. “She’s just trying to help and Luke didn’t mean to break--whatever that is.”

Obi-Wan holds up his hand to cut Anakin off. “I’m not mad,” he promises all three of the Skywalkers. And he’s not even lying. He’s really not mad, hasn’t even thought to be mad at this last piece of proof of his relationship with Satine shattering on his kitchen floor. “I just don’t want either of you to cut yourself. Glass like this can be very dangerous and none of you are wearing shoes.”

“Promise?” Luke asks, untucking his red face from Anakin’s neck so he can peer up at Obi-Wan.

“I’m sorry I was a bit rough,” Obi-Wan apologizes, coming over and bending down a bit so he’s on the same level as Luke. “I was just worried about you. Promise.”

Luke sniffles but lets go of Anakin to throw himself at Obi-Wan, apologizing all the way.

“Hush,” Obi-Wan says as Leia scrambles up his leg, vying for his attention. With his hands full of children that aren’t his, he raises his head to look at Anakin who’s watching them with a very strange expression on his face. He tilts his head toward the broom and then down to the kids in his arms. “Come along,” he tells them both. “Leia, I’ll finish your braids if you’d like.”

“Braid my hair too!” Luke demands with a pull on Obi-Wan’s shirt.

Luke’s hair is floppy but awfully short. “I’m sure we can figure something out,” Obi-Wan says generously, leaving the kitchen.

“I suppose I’ll just clean this up then?” Anakin calls sarcastically behind them.

“Thank you, darling,” Obi-Wan responds.

There’s the sound of something else breaking, but it’s not Obi-Wan’s problem at the moment.

(A year later, Anakin mentions something over morning coffee about looking for a new apartment, now that he’s got everything straightened out. “We’ll get out of your hair,” he says, rubbing at the back of his neck. “I’ll look today since it’s my day off.”

Obi-Wan doesn’t want to examine why that idea makes something curl tightly in his stomach, making him feel vaguely nauseous, but it does. On his way out of the house, he unplugs the router, and then after a second of thought, takes it with him just in case.)

(Quinlan laughs his head off when Obi-Wan sheepishly puts the router down on the desk in front of him. “It’s a bad market right now,” Obi-Wan says defensively. “I’m just looking out for him.”

“Obi, I mean this in the best way possible, but there are at least four professors in the psych department that would probably love to do a case study on you.”)

(Two years after the Skywalkers move in, Obi-Wan is running late for a meeting with the head of his department. The man is stepping down, finally retiring, and Obi-Wan thinks that perhaps he’ll be tapped as the new head. It would mean dropping some of his classes, but it would be worth it.

“I made you a breakfast wrap,” Anakin greets him at the door, holding out a paper bag. “It’s got that salsa you like in it.”

The salsa Obi-Wan likes is the mild version of what Anakin and the kids eat, but Anakin treats it as if it’s from another planet entirely.

“Good luck!” he says with a sweet smile, also passing Obi-Wan a travel mug of what’s hopefully fully caffeinated tea. Obviously Obi-Wan needs it. He got perhaps two full hours of sleep last night, tossing and turning and thinking about this meeting and now he’s running late and his tie is crooked and none of his favorite sweater vests were clean.

“Thank you, dear one,” Obi-Wan mumbles, mind somewhere else. If traffic isn’t too bad, he could still be on time.

“Text me how it goes!” Anakin chirps, following Obi-Wan out the door to stand on the front porch with his arms crossed in an attempt to fight off the early winter chill.

“Yes, of course,” Obi-Wan replies, turning around to brush an absent-minded kiss to Anakin’s lips before hurrying to his car. It’s a twenty minute commute. If he gets his preferred parking spot and runs to the department building, he won’t be late at all.

Is that too much to hope for?

He starts the car and pulls out of the driveway, looking back in the rearview mirror to see Anakin standing frozen on the porch. That’s strange, usually the other man can’t stand being out in the cold.

Obi-Wan gets to the first stop-sign out of the neighborhood before he realizes what he’s done. It’s lucky that he’s already slowing down, because he slams on the brakes. Did he--

Did he kiss Anakin? Did he really kiss Anakin as if he does it all the time? As if they were in a relationship?

Oh shit.

Frantically, he pulls out his cellphone from his bag and checks to see if he has any new messages. He doesn’t.

Oh. Shit.

#asks #one more ficlet in this universe and i will have No Choice but to piece them together somehow on ao3 #there was supposed to be a bit where one of his students is like 'oh i didnt know you were a father!'#and obi-wan is like 'im not a father'#and then he plugs in his laptop to pull up the powerpoitn for the day #and his background is a picture of luke and leia #not even doing anything theyre just sleeping peacefully in his favorite armchair hugging the same book #anakin had sent it to him #with the text that they were taking turns playing Obi-Wan and Student #but the game was so boring they fell asleep #KUWSK

214 notes · View notes

ladyinbooks · 4 years ago

Text

This little ficlet has been kind of eating my brain alive today, so I had to get it out. I think I just wanted an outside perspective on Hess, and unfortunately this is what happened...

Title: Of Earth Warnings: None Summary: An angel goes to visit the Antichrist.

The offices are cool; tidy. Clean white lines and sleek furniture. The floors are black marble, dark and gleaming. Looking down at them for too long gives Leliel vertigo, as though they are standing on the edge of a precipice, staring into the void.

“You get used to it after a while,” Abaddon says unsympathetically.

Abaddon is... not what Leliel had expected. They have never met the creator of the Antichrist before, and certainly wouldn't have believed she would be wearing a guise such as this.

(“Human female,” Abaddon had said pleasantly, when they first met. “If it was a form good enough for Eve to damn mankind in, then it shall certainly do for me.”)

��I don't think I will get used to it,” Leliel says slowly. They look up, watching as Abaddon crosses the floor to them. The neat heels of her shoes make a sharp, clipped sound with each step. “This is deliberate, yes?”

Abaddon shrugs. “Mostly.”

“The Creature chose this?”

Leliel knows the moment the words leave their mouth that they have misspoken. They hadn't meant to use that name; hadn't meant to compound trespass with outright hostility.

“My King chose this,” Abaddon says frostily. “If you have another name for Him, I do not wish to hear it.”

The Beast, sits on the back of Leliel's tongue. Child of the Dragon. The Blasphemer. 'Creature' is, perhaps, the kindest description they could have chosen for the monster now carrying the last pieces of Hespherus Jones in itself.

“My apologies,” Leliel says quietly. “I meant no offence.”

Abaddon considers them. The dichotomy between her human form and the twisted creature beneath is beginning to give Leliel a headache. Abaddon appears perfect; whole. Looking surface deep proves nothing. It is beneath, that Leliel can see the charred remnants of her flesh; the tortured horror of her form. She is suffering and agony writ deep, and further down still, she is pure greed and ambition.

This is the creator, Leliel thinks. This is the one who saw the potential.

That Abaddon chose a candidate for the Antichrist means nothing. That she saw the possibilities in Hespherus Jones, that she raised him above all others, means something else entirely.

She is a demon with vision, and so is her King, and that is enough to worry the Host.

For a moment Leliel and Abaddon stare at one another. Leliel is unsure what the demon is thinking – uncertain if they will even get an audience with the Creature today – but after a small infinity of time, Abaddon clicks her fingers.

“Come on,” she says.

Obediently, Leliel follows her across the reception area, around the corner and down a long corridor.

There are glass windows looking into offices; frosted panes and open doors. Very little cover, and all of it poor. If efforts to resolve the situation do not come to fruition, the idea of storming this building is enough to cause Leliel concern.

“Have you seen enough?” Abaddon asks, as they stop outside of the only door composed entirely of wood. “Or would you like to spy a little more?” Her smile is still unkind. Vicious.

Leliel shrugs. “I have seen enough for now,” they say, unashamed. “You cannot have expected me to walk blind through the building.”

Abaddon's mouth twists unpleasantly, but she hammers a fist against the door nonetheless. “Your five o'clock is here!” she bellows.

She is angry for some reason; Leliel can see it. The darkness of her drips from her human form, seeping into the air around them. It is like a poisonous slick, malignant and choking. Just being in her presence makes Leliel feel tainted.

“You don't –” they begin, as the door opens.

They look around.

The figure in the doorway is strange, unexpected. It is not at all the monster they were led to believe.

Because Hespherus Jones is beautiful in person.

Leliel had been expecting a creature like Abaddon: the antithesis of goodness, of light. They had been waiting for the eternal void of nightfall; the endless plunge of Lucifer's fall made flesh.

Hespherus Jones is none of these things.

He is tall. His body is handsome, for a human's – strong shoulders, wide mouth, soft dark hair and eyes – but his soul.

His soul.

Where Abaddon is oil slick – an indelible stain on the warp and weft of creation – Hespherus Jones is a storm. Dark, dangerous clouds, rich and thick; the unyielding sullen menace of a tempest that has not yet broken. But in that – in it –

Light.

Fragments. Flickers. Leliel isn't sure which. The blinding white of lightning, striking terrifying and true in the distance. Hespherus Jones is a creature of darkness, threaded with an inferno.

Leliel looks up, looks at his face.

They are expecting the same ruin as Abaddon; waiting for the inevitable pain of watching a creature that is leaking from the false form it wears.

They are not expecting this.

He is still tall, still handsome. The strange humanity of his form has not changed. He is studying them, slightly puzzled. The flicker-flash weight of his soul is curious, not angered. He is not of Heaven, nor of Hell, but a strange combination of the two, that can only come from the profaned divine.

What a champion he might have made, Leliel thinks sadly.

On his head is a crown of bone, embedded deep and bleeding. A permanent marker of who he is, now. Who he will always be. Ten spikes to the coronet, and the eternal thorns forever carved deep into the circlet; into his brow.

He took the throne, they know. He completed the bargain. Whatever possibilities Hespherus Jones may once have had, his choice was made long ago. It is seared into him, for all to see.

“You wanted to see me?” the Creature asks, with the voice of a thousand tongues, and Leliel shudders at the sound.

Beauty and temptation; the last echoes of the song of the universe. He is wonderfully horrifying in his grace.

From the corner of their eye, Leliel can see Abaddon watching them; can see the way her lips are curling, just slightly, into the kind of smile that says she is going to enjoy whatever happens next.

It is enough to make Leliel uneasy; enough to make them doubt, for a moment, that this course of action is wisest.

But that kind of thinking led to Lucifer's fall, they remind themselves. Questioning is not sensible: it leads to doubt, and doubt leads to far worse. To torment, to the end of a path that results in abominations like Abaddon.

Leliel clears their throat, as Hespherus Jones stares at them.

“I wanted to talk to you,” they say carefully, “about Daniel Waters.”

#Hespherus Jones #Path to Paradise #Ficlet Fridays

11 notes · View notes

writing-hyena · 4 years ago

Text

Starry Skies and Bony Thestrals (Luna x Harry)

As promised another little ficlet and its actually tied to the other two Lunarry fics I have, its own little universe ┌༼ ˵ ° ᗜ ° ˵ ༽┐ that I love Very Dearly tbh, anyways I hope you likeit! Just a lot of fluff and Harry and Luna talking about their feelings, just how I love it!!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Harry stared wistfully at Luna as she fed the thestrals, completely lost in his own train of thought. It seemed like worries just continued to pile on him day by day as they got further and further into this horrid war. It seemed like everything that had happened to him and continued to happen to him were like these dark tendrils trying desperately to pull him away from his emotions. Especially during this summer he’d felt that desperate pull that always seemed to tug at his conscience, tempting him so with the notion of cutting himself from everything. Of shutting himself away because it seemed that’s what everything wanted him to do.

Then Luna turned and smiled at him. It was always such an interesting thing to see, it filled him with so much warmth, like a lumos had been casted right where his heart was. Her smile always amazed him, just her facial expressions in general really, and the way he always seemed to understand the underlying message in them. Like now, she was curious on what had him so silent.

He smiled, “I’m just thinking.” He replied, gladly answering her silent question.

“What are you thinking about?” She asked, staring intently at him as she stroked the mane of one of the thestrals.

“Love,” he says matter of factly. At one point, maybe he would have hesitated at saying such things, but Luna had taught him a lot of things as of lately. His openness in his emotions being one of them. “And how being loved by you is something I never really expected nor thought would ever really be possible.”

A snort came from Luna at this, a sort of sardonic tone with it. Not something one would ever really expect from Luna Lovegood of all people, but then not many truly took the time to know the girl. All they chose to see was an air headed girl who seemed perpetually unbothered. “That’s strangely high paise don’t you think?”

Harry’s smile softened at this. “I didn’t necessarily mean it like that, of course being loved by you is an honor though.” The indian boy let out a deep sigh before speaking again, throwing himself back onto the grassy ground of the forest. “It’s just that all my life I never really saw myself as someone who was capable of being loved. I was brought up being taught that love was something I didn’t deserve in any of its forms, and I believed that very much. Then, when I got to the wizarding world I felt that even more. I saw this ugly broken world hiding things behind this idea of perfection just like the Dursley’s did, and so I thought it was the same thing. It felt like the same thing a lot of the time. For a long time it made me lock away a part of myself that I hadn’t realized I’d been denying. I’d starved myself of affection because I felt I was still unworthy of it.” He paused for a moment, feeling his throat become sore as he tried to hold back tears. The stars above him, twinkling and shining began to look blurry, yet he knew he had his glasses on still.

There was a long moment of silence as he tried to recollect himself, try and push himself through finishing this little spiel. Of truly and wholly opening up his heart to the girl. He felt stupid, weak, for having this much trouble trying to express himself to the other.

He looked in mild surprise as Luna settled herself next to him on the grass, taking hold of his hand as she smiled gently up at the stars. “It’s okay to take as long as you need Harry.” She said gently, her voice feeling like the light tinkling of wind chimes. “You don’t have to rush for me. I’m sure we have forever and a lifetime.”

That same warm feeling from before nestled itself into his chest at her words. This clear affirmation of the future ahead of them, the future that’s just for them. It was these soft words, spoken under star light amongst skeletal horses that made him turn fully on his side to face her, prompting Luna to do the same.

Harry held her gaze as he finally began to continue, “To be honest I still feel like I’m not deserving of it. Of your love and affection, because everything has always told me that I simply hurt those close to me. That I shouldn’t be allowed to love in the midst of all this horridness that surrounds us. It’s this mixture of guilt and shame that seems to just constantly pull and tug at me. Like it’s trying to drag me further and further into this pool of despair that’s made itself a permanent fixture of my psyche. Yet here you are, this lovely wonderful person that it feels like I was made to love.” He gave her a soft smile as she gently caressed his cheek, a silent gesture telling him that she felt the same. “It’s strange, because as I got to know you it was like I was slowly surfacing from that pool of despair that I’d been sinking deeper and deeper into. It’s not as though you saved me so to speak. But getting to know you, getting to know Luna Lovegood, this wonderful spectre that made me think in ways that I didn’t think was possible, began to make me want to save myself. It was like without knowing it I was giving you my heart piece by piece. Even if I feel like I shouldn’t, like I don’t deserve it, you make me want to love even in this world that seems to keep trying to tell me that I shouldn’t.”

Luna’s eyes were twinkling as brightly as the stars above their heads as she gazed at him, a smile so gentle and full of love directed at him. She wondered how she got so lucky to be in love with a boy like this. So much so that she even dared to say it out loud. “How was I so fortunate to have Lady Magic bless me with such a wonder like you? For such a long time I didn’t think anyone but my father could love me. No one ever truly accepted me, I was too strange, just Loony Lovegood, but you accepted me. You didn’t simply accept me in spite of what others consider oddities like my interest in nargles and crumple horned snorkacks. You actually listened to what I had to say, you believed me and took me seriously. That’s honestly all I’ve ever wanted from someone, and you managed to give me that and even more. You stood up to bullying that it seemed everyone ignored, you chose to fully understand me and what I had to say instead of writing me off.” She laughed slightly, “I had no other choice but to love you Harry, because even from the start without realizing it you granted my biggest wish.”

“And what was that?” He asked, unconsciously leaning closer, lost in her wonderfully silvery eyes.

“To simply be understood. To be accepted and treated as an equal.”

There was a long pause of silence as they both simply stared at each other. The two teens felt nothing but contentedness as they lay there, happy to have exposed their hearts to the fullest in that moment. It was like there was a dream like quality to the air as they just simply existed in this thing they’d created for each other. This small little world where they could so quietly love and be happy and resist the harshness that the rest of the world demanded of them.

After a long while Harry finally spoke up again, “I’m happy Lady Magic sent me to you. I’m happy I was able to make your wish come true. Most of all, I’m happy that I’m able to love you.”

“And I’m happy that I inspire you to save yourself. I’m happy that I was able to allow you understand that you deserve love. Most of all, I’m happy I was given the opportunity to love you as well.”

“I guess we’re a perfect pair then don’t you think?” He said, leaning in even more, slowly closing the gap between them more and more.

“As perfect as thestrals and death.” She said dreamily before kissing him herself.

It was under the starry lit sky, surrounded by thestrals, sharing a kiss with this girl he knew he’d love for many lifetimes over, that Harry Potter knew he deserved to be loved.

#Dante writes #luna x harry #Lunarry #Luna Lovegood #Harry Potter #fluff #hp

32 notes · View notes

beneathashadytree · 4 years ago

Text

Hi guys! These are my rules for requesting. Please first make sure to check if my requests are open, and then check my guidelines out.

FANDOMS I (CURRENTLY) WRITE FOR:

Attack on Titan/Shingeki No Kyojin (complete manga)

One Piece (up till Wano)

JoJo's Bizarre Adventure (up till Jojolion)

Moriarty the Patriot (complete manga)

My Hero Academia/Boku No Hero Academia (up till Season 5)

Bungou Stray Dogs (up till anime)

Haikyuu!! (complete manga)

Kuroko’s Basketball/Kuroko no Basket (complete anime)

Tokyo Revengers (up till Season 1)

Jujutsu Kaisen (up till Film 0)

Free! (complete anime)

Yona of the Dawn (up till anime)

Dororo (complete anime)

Mr. Love: Queen's Choice/EVOL X LOVE (all characters on EN server)

Obey Me! One Master To Rule Them All (all characters except Thirteen, Mephistopheles, and Raphael)

Mystic Messenger (all characters except Rika and Saeran)

Ikemen Sengoku (all characters on EN server)

Ikemen Vampire (all characters on EN server)

Ikemen Prince (all characters on EN server)

Ikemen Revolution (all characters on EN server)

GENRES I (CURRENTLY) WRITE:

Fluff (platonic and romantic, but preferably romantic)

Smut (as long as I am comfortable with it!)

Angst

Hurt/Comfort

Slightly suggestive/steamy themes

Modern AUs

Soulmate AUs

Any mental illnesses/eating disorders/neurodivergent characters I'll research as best as I can and write for them!

VERY IMPORTANT SIDE NOTES:

In the case of any characters being under-aged, I will sometimes age them up to 18+ when writing fluff pieces, as I no longer am a minor.

I prefer writing all genres with a gender-neutral reader that uses they/them pronouns, as it makes me feel more comfortable, and is the most inclusive option. I strongly dislike constantly writing for female readers because it’s extremely restrictive, and I myself am not a female. It gets very tedious having to constantly write for something I am unlikely to enjoy or understand.

When writing headcanons, I stick to writing for a maximum of 6 characters per post. When writing oneshots or drabbles, I will only write for one character per post.

I do not describe anatomy, religious beliefs, sexuality, race, or any otherwise specific details of the reader. As someone who has never been represented in any piece of media, I try my best to be as inclusive as possible.

WHAT I WILL NOT WRITE:

Incest/pseudocest

Non-con

Period sex (with AFAB reader)

Abuse from any characters

Any underage characters without aging up to 18 years old MINIMUM

Major age gaps where one party is a grown adult and the other has not yet matured

Yandere themes

Crack/comedy without any romance

Friends-with-benefits

Oneshots without any mention of the reader

Ficlets (AKA heavily detailed requests that are 4K+ words long)

AUs from fictional universes that I don’t know

Readers that are similar to fictional characters that I don’t know

Objectification of female characters for the sake of comedy

I will regularly update this as time progresses! Thank you, and I hope you guys will enjoy my writing.

40 notes · View notes

runrundoyourstuff · 4 years ago

Text

8 Favorite Works of the Year

I was tagged by the wonderful @mimik-u! Maggie, I feel so grateful to be in this wild fandom world with you, and to have you as a chavruta to think about important issues with via the medium of fic and some of our favorite stories! I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again ad naseum--this is a very real and very important thing, and it’s such a gift to share it. If you haven’t already, please check out some of Maggie’s work. It’s amazing, and as someone who has been following it for a few years now, it’s been amazing to see how it’s grown!

Rules: It’s time to love yourselves! Choose your 8 (ish) favorite works you created in the past year (fics, art, edits, etc.) and link them below to reflect on the amazing things you brought into the world in 2020. Tag as many writers/artists/etc. as you want (fan or original) so we can spread the love and link each other to awesome work!

Here they are, in no particular order.

1. Essences (Steven Universe, 5539 words)--I wrote this piece as a part of @fandomtrumpshate for @pearldefiance, and it’s about Pearl helping Yellow Pearl adjust to freedom after CYM. This is probably my favorite fic I’ve written, not only this year, but ever, because I feel like I was able to draw out real character insights in subtle, emotive, and yet effective ways--and I was really proud of it. I also felt like, even more than other fics I’ve written, there were real character arcs with a real resolution, even in 5000 words, and that is something I am very proud of too.

2. Switch (Gravity Falls, 3483 words)--Sometimes you write certain pieces, and in the experience of writing those pieces, you really feel like you come to understand a certain character. I had a piece like that for Pearl. I had a piece like that for Iroh. And for me, this was a piece like that for the Gravity Falls character Ford. Essentially, in this fic, I track Ford’s character trajectory-- especially his body issues and sense of low self-esteem--through pre-canon, canon, and post-canon, by examining his relationship with a body-swapping carpet, (an invention of his that is featured in an early episode of the cartoon). This felt like a deeply personal piece for me--I felt like I saw a lot of myself and my own issues in Ford here, and the process of writing this piece felt deeply cathartic.

3. Pikuach Nefesh (Buffy the Vampire Slayer, 788 words)--I watched Buffy for the first time during the quarantine, and while there was a lot I loved about it, something I didn’t love was Willow’s disappearing Jewishness. What I tried to do here is put some of Willow’s choices at the beginning of Season 6 in the context of her Jewishness (without letting her off the hook for them), and also to push back against the highly Christian-normative rules of the Buffyverse.

4. Kintsugi (Steven Universe, 1471 words)--I was just really happy with how this one turned out. This is just a piece reflecting on the experience of the “un-shattered” Gems, i.e. the Gems that Yellow Diamond shattered during SU pre-canon and canon, and then reconstructed in Steven Universe Future.

5. Always Thought I Might Be Bad (Steven Universe, 406 words)--One of the most compelling parts of Diamond Days, I think, is this idea that Steven has been dealing with an identity crisis for so much longer than we as viewers have necessarily explicitly noticed. Those seeds were always there in canon, though, and this little ficlet was just an attempt to draw them out. In particular, this piece takes place in early s4, as Steven is still reeling from the revelation that his mother supposedly shattered Pink Diamond, and how that affects his larger crisis. This was a pretty angsty piece...and I was really satisfied with it.

6. We Changed in an Instant (We Became So Much More) (Steven Universe, 1474 words)--For me, one of the joys of writing SU fic is noticing common threads between characters, and in this piece, I tried to do that with Pearl and Ruby, reflecting on the similarities (and to some extent the differences) between Ruby’s relationship with Sapphire and Pearl’s relationship with Rose. I really felt like I got at something real with these characters here, and I’m pleased with how that happened.

7. Remembrances (Gravity Falls, 2075 words)--Another Jewish fic! This one I wrote for @daysofawesome, an awesome Jewish fanfiction fest that I relaunched this year with the permission of the original creator. Gravity Falls is a show about growth, community, childhood, and family--and in this piece I tried to frame some thoughts I had about that, especially as it exists in the finale, through the lens of Jewish ritual. (The Pines family are all canonically Jewish, even if that is only hinted at in first level canon). I’m really satisfied with the results here also.

8. Sunrise (Gravity Falls, 877 words)--Don’t have a lot to say about this one, but I felt like I was getting to know Ford and Stan’s dynamic here. This is a post-canon piece, trying to grant Ford and Stan a little bit of post-canon catharsis while they’re at sea, and I enjoyed writing it quite a lot! I tag @findswoman, @fanfoolishness, @coffee-b, @palezma, and anyone else who wants--with the reminder that this can be fic, art, or any other creation!

#tag memes #my fic #su #gravity falls #btvs

21 notes · View notes

arielsojourner · 5 years ago

Text

Still wanting to marry this fic Part 4

There is suddenly a plot. I wasn’t planning a plot. WTF? I wasn’t even planning this part (or any other parts, I had other dragon!Jaskier plot bunnies) but then I read the comments to my post and suddenly IDEA. It is wild how that happens! You can thank Ciri for this part. She didn’t want to leave things (or Geralt) alone so here you go!

So have another ficlet where dragon!Jaskier attends a music festival and causes a riot. My love of @nemainofthewater‘s Shining Universe/dragon!Jaskier universe knows no bound (her fic can be found here, READ IT AND MY OTHER FICLETS FIRST OR THIS WILL MAKE NO SENSE: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22562836?view_full_work=true ).

Other ficlets (both connected and unconnected to this plot) are on my Tumblr under the tag #dragon!jaskier.

Geralt was climbing the most insane cliff side he’d ever seen over a turbulent sea. Geralt was doing this because if he didn’t Ciri said she would never speak to him again.

At first in the face of that threat, Geralt had rejoiced. Fine! Don’t speak! He didn’t like a lot of noise when he traveled anyway! But then she’d followed through on her threat. She actually followed through! No one (Jaskier) had ever managed to successfully follow through on that threat! Not in 20 plus years! They (Jaskier) had always given in in under an hour and begun talking and singing again. But Ciri not only followed through she kept it up. For days. She spoke to Roach. She spoke to people on the road. She even spoke to a monster he was trying to kill but she wouldn’t. Speak. To. Geralt.

Not until he apologized to Jaskier.

Which was why he was now climbing this stupid gods be damned cliff. Because his child by surprised would not speak to him, would pretend to be deaf around him, until he hunted down the bard and apologized and the bard accepted his apology.

He never should have told Ciri about Jaskier. He should have held his tongue. He never had a problem holding his tongue around other people (Jaskier) before! But nooooo, she pestered him and prodded him and when she’d confessed she’d seen Jaskier fly off with a dragon of all things, Geralt had given the game away and she had pounced!

(“A dragon? What dragon? Jaskier was with a dragon?”

“Ah-ha! So you do know him! I never said his name was Jaskier!” She crowed. “You lied when you said you didn’t know him! He said he’d known you, had been your companion for 20 years! Tell me about him! Why is he with a dragon? How could you have traveled with him for so long when he’s so young? Is he your son? I thought Witchers couldn’t have children! Is he a mage? He said he was there when my parents got married! He said my father was a hedgehog! He said my mother had powers! What was he talking about? Tell me and don’t lie! I’ll know if you lie!”)

Geralt had caved like he hadn’t caved to anyone (Jaskier) in years. Slowly, in fits and starts, over many days, Ciri had pulled it out of him, one tale at a time. The Devil of Posada. The djinn. Her mother’s betrothal banquet. And finally, finally the mountain and the dragon hunt.

Ciri was very quiet by the end of the tale. She looked at him with disappointment, some measure of pity, and a healthy dose of “You are a colossal idiot. Why do I love you again?” If he was being honest with himself he would say he knew that look all too well, though it had been sometime since he had seen it on anyone (Jaskier’s) face.

“You’re going to apologize,” Ciri said firmly and there was no argument in her voice, she sounded as commanding as her grandmother ever was. “You’re going to find him and you’re going to apologize to one of your oldest and dearest friends for being a-a horses ass and taking out your hurt on him just because he was there.”

“Don’t swear.”

“I’ll swear if I damn well please! You need to do this. You didn’t see his face when I was cruel to him, and said that he was a liar because I believed you instead. He was–he was so hurt that you’d never told me about him, that you pretended you never knew him. He asked if you were happy. He told me that was all that was important to him. That you were happy.”

Geralt turned away at that, unable to look in those earnest blue eyes that were so familiar to someone else’s (Jaskier’s) blue eyes. He felt a deep well of shame inside him that this time he couldn’t just push away or ignore or drown with drink or killing monsters. He had been cruel to someone who was kind to him and there was not much lower or more despicable than that, a person who repaid caring with disdain and hatred.

“I don’t know where he is,” he finally said. “No one’s seen him for years before the festival. The songs mentioned a dragon kidnapping a bard. I-I asked Yennifer to look for him once, but she couldn’t find him.”

“Well obviously he’s with his father who’s a dragon and his sister who’s a dragon. You just told me Borch was a dragon in human form who rescued a dragon’s egg. So he’s with Borch. They must have adopted him or something like that. Like you did with me. We just need to find Borch and then you’ll find Jaskier. Simple.”

Not simple, Geralt was finding as he clung to the cliff side, inching his way up the sheer face to the opening that was barely visible but that Geralt had to trust was there. If he made it to the top and Jaskier wasn’t there Geralt was not going to be happy.

“Hello there!” a voice called from far above.

He knew that voice. Borch. He’d found the dragon’s home at last. He risked lifting his chin to look up and saw the large scaled face peering down at him.

“Borch,” Geralt said in relief. “Don’t suppose you could give me a lift?” he asked.

“Sorry, no.”

Geralt gaped for a moment and then banged his forehead once against the cliff. “Fuck.” Ciri had warned him. She’d told him Jaskier’s “family” was very caring and protective of him. That protection obviously meant protecting Jaskier from Geralt!

Well, he was just going to have to prove Jaskier’s family wrong, wasn’t he! With a grunt, he reached for the next tiny handhold with his finger tips and pulled himself up another few inches. His fingers searched for the next handhold above his head.

“Slow going?” Borch asked.

“This is not as easy as it looks! I would appreciate it if you wouldn’t --urg-- wouldn’t distract me!”

“My apologies,” came the sardonic response.

“Fuck.” It bared repeating as he pulled himself up another few inches, a rain of dirt filling his mouth. “Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.”

“I do hope you’re language improves on your journey up to our home. I’m not in the habit of letting my children hear such curse words no matter how satisfying they are to say. I’ve just gotten Julian to stop saying and thinking them and you shan’t be talking to him if that is all you have to say.”

With a snarl, Geralt risked a glare up the sheer cliff side to where the dragon rested on the ledge, clawed arms folded as he took his ease in the afternoon light. “I am talking with Jaskier and I’ll use whatever language I fucking want to!”

“It would be a pity, Geralt of Rivia, for you to have made it all this way only to be sent straight back down this cliff again. The choice is yours, however. You are coming uninvited into our home and such language is not permitted in our home or around my children.”

He really didn’t have much of a choice, he realized. Borch could pluck him off the side of the cliff and throw him into the sea. He could reach the top only for the dragon to bat him off the side and even he would probably not survive a fall from this height.

“Fine. I’ll fucking watch my language after I scale the cliff. Happy?”

“I’d be happier if you would go back down but I know too well how stubborn you can be. Take your time,” the dragon called closing his eyes to take a nap in the sun.

“Fuck,” Geralt growled as he struggled for his next hand hold. “Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.”

Better get it out of his system now, because dragon or no dragon, he was getting up this cliff and talking to Jaskier!

I have no idea where this came from. I have no idea what to write next but I hope you enjoyed this extra ficlet you sparked with your comments. :) Again, all hail and thanks goes to the amazing original author. I am just loving her dragon!Jaskier fic. I love ever bit of it to pieces. Go read and comment if you haven’t already! New chapters up daily. She is amazing!

#dragon!jaskier #witcher #geralt of rivia #geralt x jaskier #cirilla #borch three jackdaws

176 notes · View notes

aubrey-plaza · 5 years ago

Note

hope you're doing good during this crazy time! was wondering if you have any recs for crossbow canary fics to read?

so I have another fic rec list here that also has some dinah x helena recs so check that out too if you need more.

You can always go to the tag and sort by kudos but the ones below are some of my absolute favourites and I hope you enjoy them as much as I do :)

Crossbow Canary / Dinah x Helena:

In my darkness I remember

by ThanksForListening / @thanks--for--listening (13.154, complete)

summary: Helena gets stabbed, Dinah blows her powers, and everyone needs therapy.

notes: this is hurt/comfort at it’s FINEST. Two chapters, one from each POV with a delicious exploration of backstory and characterisation, and a story that will rip your heart out still beating. It’s a beautiful fic and honestly, any words I say won’t do it justice and you should just read it.

would you like to cuddle under my weighted blanket?

by tonksremus (3721, rated M, ½ chapters)

summary: Dinah discovers Helena’s weighted blanket and then decides to wife her. Really. That’s the basis of this entire fic.

notes: there are simply no words to describe how fucking hilarious this fic is. Even before the big laugh out loud moment, the author sets up smaller bits and pieces for you to laugh over and the whole time I was reading it I had a smile on my face. I recommend not reading this in public. I don’t think I have ever laughed so much while reading a fic. Add to that a delicious cameo by Poison Ivy and great characterisation all around and you’ve got yourself a pretty stellar piece of writing. I cannot wait for the second part to this!

hoping to find (what i can’t figure out yet)

by sinandmisery / @sinand-misery (6863, T, wip)

summary: “I realized after I got to my class, I never got your name.”

“Oh, um- Helena.” She stands, hand outstretched awkwardly for a handshake. “Helena Rosa.”

“Dinah Lance,” she says, laughing as she shakes Helena’s hand. Her hands are cold from the bottles of beer, but Helena’s hands are warm - so warm - and Dinah doesn’t want to let go.

OR;

The college AU where they become friends and fall a little bit (a lot) in love.

notes: anybody who knows me knows I don’t read WIPs. full stop. I try to keep up and really love supporting my friends but wips are just so hard for me to keep up with and YET. There’s this college AU that’s so riveting and well written that I eagerly await the email that brings the next chapter with it. There’s intrigue and a solid backstory laced with a delicious banter and characterisation that’s just *chefs kiss*. I love it so much I made a social media AU for it.

For a Little While Longer

by Ciocco / @suolasirotin (1664, rated T, tw in story notes)

summary: ‘Psychologically speaking, vengeance rarely brings the catharsis we hope for.’

Helena has a choice to make.

notes: the way this was written had my throat in a knot and my chest warm the whole way out despite knowing that it would end well and there’s a beauty to the prose and the internal monologue that gives it such an authentic feeling. Your heart will hurt for Helena and sympathise and the way this moment was written, you will want to be drawn to Dinah. It’s so well written and I keep coming back to it.

i don’t wanna be your friend (i wanna kiss your lips)

by MontagueBitch (porcia_catonis) (1090, G)

summary: Helena practiced this moment in front of her mirror a dozen times, and somehow, it still doesn’t come out right. How typical.

notes: Helena is a goddamn disaster and I love her so much. This fic reads like a movie, perfectly described with the right amount of dialogue and feels so natural and like them.

Quarantine Oneshots / Chapter 17 - You’re So Vain

by BlueJay_Silvertongue (1588, rated T)

summary: Helena and Diana attend a funeral in Italy, and Dinah finally confronts her feelings for Helena.

notes: so this is I think the second one shot in this series that’s CC, but in the first one it’s basically revealed that Diana and Helena sometimes sleep together. Still, it’s a short piece and manages to be so compelling and really stuck with me and I keep coming back to it. Part of a quarantine collection so I’m p sure author is doing a ficlet a day and I have to say the notes at the end are really uplifting as well!

I Don’t Deserve This (You Look Perfect Tonight)

by Dash_El (1168, rated G)

summary: “What’s wrong, Helena?” Dinah asks curiously. “Never danced with another girl before?”

“No, it’s not that.” Helena’s arms are rigid, her hands balling up into fists. She breathes out slowly before admitting the truth. “I’ve never danced with anyone before.”

notes: is there anything better than two people slowdancing together? the answer is yes: this fic. It’s slow and simple and practically evokes the imagery in your head.

I’ve been at war for so long.

by D_writes (2235, rated G, will leave you hungry)

summary: One shot exploring a bit of Helena’s Italian heritage and some habits she brought with her from the old continent.

notes: Carla Lalli Music said Love is a thing you can taste, and she was right. I love a fic based around food and eating because what’s more caring that wanting your loved ones to be well fed? The Italians are good at this and having Helena connect with that part of her heritage and basing a story around it? Absolute pinnacle of poeticism.

Pegasus

by catfishofoldin99colours / @catfishofoldin99colours (3617, rated G)

summary: A chilly rooftop evening, half a bottle of brandy down her throat, and the entire sky mapped out above. Not what Dinah imagined when she’d first thought of kissing Helena, but she’s not one to argue with the universe like that.

notes: will I ever stop recommending this fic? unlikely. I am a SUCKER for pining Dinah. Most fics in the tag are written from Helena’s pov but the absolute deliciousness that is a yearning Dinah is just. There are no words. They’re so goddamn awkward and I love them so much.

Sleepover

by emmer_gency / @cleanquean (4549, T, wip)

summary: It’s not like Dinah doesn’t realise she’s got it bad for Helena; she knows that all too well, thank you very much. The problem is, what the hell do you do about it when it’s right there in your face, at work, at home, in your kitchen and in your bed? And how do you keep Harley Quinn from unintentionally ruining all of it?

notes: I just. I love this fic so much. Harley is the perfect foil these two morons being incredibly awkward around each other but I still just cannot get enough.

i’d like it if you stayed (and i like you)

by mess_is_mine (3269, rated E)

summary: Living together, when Dinah hasn’t been laid in months, when they’re spending their nights in situations that get Dinah’s adrenaline going, when Helena has a habit of walking around in sleeveless shirts or even just a sports bra and low slung joggers?

Yeah, it was only a matter of time before Helena walked in at an inopportune moment.

notes: this is. very hot. features a very pent up Dinah being walked in on and hot and (surprisingly) tender smut.

Hail Mary, Full of Grace

by zxywrites / @zxyjxy (3790, explicit)

summary: They have sex in a church. Not sure what else to say.

notes: relapsed gay catholics unite! but seriously, note I didn’t put an E but instead wrote out the word explicit. It’s explicit. They’re in a church. and yet, my favourite line isn’t a piece of smut but instead a section of gorgeous prose sprinkled throughout this story that really elevates it from being gratuitous smut to something absolutely beautiful. But it’s also really hot.

no fic specifically but all of @thewomanofwonder / thewomanofwonder’s stories are good!

and of course you can read the fics I wrote

Happy reading, Anon!

#fic rec #crossbow canary #dinahelena #dinah x helena #friend tags #anonymous #anon #ask

90 notes · View notes

davidthetraveler · 5 years ago

Text

David’s Fic-Rec Friday: 2020/05/01

Hey guys. Sorry about last week. And sorry for being so late getting this out this week. But considering what just dropped this afternoon... well...

Anyway, let’s get this going, shall we?

Silent Treatment by JayCKx (aka @rainbowhidgens)

Starting off, we’ve got a soft story about romantic Prinxiety. Roman is in one of his particularly annoying attention seeking moods, and he’s been bothering his boyfriend all day. Finally having had enough, Virgil opts to give him the silent treatment, feigning ignorance and opting to read a book in his room. But when Roman opts to simply lay in Virgil’s lap and quips that he can work with silence, the two find themselves in a sweet and peaceful time together, and what could be more happy for the loving couple. Romantic Prinxiety with a hefty helping of domestic bliss, my one weakness. But at least I’m going down grinning.

Jam Buddies by Bit0Mess (aka @bit0mess)

Another nice and soft story, this one featuring some Logince that could be interpreted either romantically or platonically. Roman and Logan are enjoying a nice day outside, and Roman is rocking out to that classic Steven Universe song about Jam Buds. And Logan, who has been forced to watch the show three times over thanks to Roman, is all too happy to join in with some humorous antics. All in all, it’s a wonderful day for the happy companions, and certainly great for putting a smile on your face.

Drifting by MagpieMorality (aka @magpiemorality)

A short but sweet ficlet focusing on platonic Virgil and Logan. Virgil is drifting lazily in a lagoon in the imagination, enjoying the peace and serenity. At least until the other sides dive in, but even that’s not enough to spoil his day as Logan grabs hold of his float and the two of them drift lazily on this pleasant day. Short but soothing in the best way possible, this one is definitely worth a quick peek.

Thanksgiving by JayCKx (the same as the first one)

Another short piece recently rediscovered by the author, this one centered around the American holiday all about food and family. While Thomas is at his family’s place for Thanksgiving, the sides too are preparing for the traditional meal. And after noticing his absense, Morality heads off to get Anxiety to join them, and he won’t take no for an answer. And after all the shenanigans that could only be described as a traditional Thanksgiving family episode, Anxiety is quite pleased to have been invited. Another short but sweet relic of a bygone era in the Sanders Sides Famderdom, this one too is definitely worth a revisit.

I’ve Been Sane Too Long by mediocrityatbest (aka @mediocrity-at-best)

A rather angsty entry next, this one featuring some platonic Logince. Roman is rather frustrated to have been summoned out to a field at three in the morning by his friend Logan, especially in all the cold and snow. But what he finds is his friend nearly freezing, both literally and figuratively as the weight of his upcoming midterms weighs on his mind. But Roman manages to talk him down from his spiral, and convinces him to head back to the dorm for some warmth and comfort with a side of fatherly lecture from their paternal compatriot. A rather appropriate fic for everyone dealing with the complicated schooling issues of this time, and an excellent reminder to listen to your friends, especially when all they want to do is help you.

You are My Heaven by B_R_Storm (aka @thepanfanwriter)

Ending things off this week with a somewhat bittersweet Royality fic, which in retrospect is a strangely apropos choice. Roman is concerned when his usually pure sunshine partner Patton asks to watch the rain with him. And after taking in the pouring precipitation, Patton admits he’s not feeling very worthy of love. To which Roman provides the comfort and assurance he needs to, if not immediately feel better, at least know that he’ll always have someone on his side as he continues to grow and deal with his own shortcomings and insecurities. An angsty yet ultimately sweet tale that hits just close enough to home to move this reader to sympathetic tears.

*****

And this week’s Featured Fic Writer is:

AshesStarsAndRedStringsOfFate (aka @magicallygrimmwiccan)

A prolific writer, with nearly eighty Sanders Sides stories published as of this posting, including a few that have been featured on previous editions of the project. This guy is certainly worth a look-see.

*****

Well, that about wraps it up for this week. Let’s give these stories and their authors some well deserved praise, including some kudos, some comments, and even a bookmark or two.

And remember, I am always open to suggestions for things to feature on these posts, including authors and fics.

Also, if you’d like to know more about the Fic-Rec Friday Project, or see previous weeks’ suggestions, you can find all that on my Fic-Rec Friday Masterpost.

And of course if you’d like to be added to the Fic-Rec Friday Tag List, or if you’re on the list and would like to be removed, just let me know and I’ll take care of it.

Until next week guys, be safe, and happy reading!

General Tag List:

@ultimate-queen-of-fandoms2 @panicattheeverywheremcr

Fic-Rec Friday Tag List:

@kunnuglegur-tortimandi @max-is-tired @creativity-killed-thekitten @the-fangirl-sunstorm @stoicpanther @averykedavra

#David's Fic-Rec Friday

16 notes · View notes

quirkfics · 5 years ago

Text

march ficlet fest!

Today is the ficlet fest for March, and thus: FICLET FEST IS A YEAR OLD!! If I don’t break 100k words for ficlets after today, I will be horribly surprised. And the theme for today is:

Soul Mate AUs! ie: soul mate alternate universe - an AU that revolves around the setting of everyone having a One True Love, or Two true loves (as I will write poly ficlets!)

What does this mean for you? I will be accepting any BNHA character that your heart desires~ Anime? Manga? I’m up to date and I cannot wait. (Except for the movie!!! I haven’t seen the most recent movie </3 ) My usual rules apply! All characters, if they aren’t already, are portrayed as 18+, and I won’t be writing for characters like the Nomu, who cannot consent. And I’m really uncomfortable with Moonfish, please don’t send him in. If you decide to send in polyships, then the characters must both be of a similar age! (ie. I won’t be writing All Might x Reader x Deku etc)

What kind of prompts, besides character-choice, am I talking? I have a list! Below you will find a list of 25 words! Choose a number or word from the list, a character (or two! 👀), and send them on in! I will be accepting them starting at 9 AM PST!! I also don’t mind mild add ons, such as fluff, lemon or angst, but I won’t guarantee those! Sometimes I read the prompt and write too gosh dang fast, but I’m not trying to purposely do so, dangit.

Because this is the last ficlet fest before I take a ficlet break, I am not staggering asks. The askbox will be open until 11 PM PST! I most definitely won’t be answering them all in one day, but for the sake of my fingers, please remember: Don’t spam! If there are repeat asks for the same character + prompt, I will delete them (as in, say two people send in ‘red string of fate’ + midoriya, I will answer one of those and delete the other. You’re still free to send in midoriya + another prompt!) I will close the askbox at 11 PM PST, and that means the ficlet fest will be over, I won’t be taking any more asks, but I will be finishing the ones I have.

If I haven’t responded, it’s likely I needed a break or food, or possibly I’m having a stuck moment! (I’ll get to it, I promise.) If you have a question, if you think your ask might not have gone through, I’ll be happy to let you know whether it did, but again, please don’t spam, I promise I’m not ignoring you. Remember my rules, and have fun! I’m looking forward to writing for you! 💖 And now, the list!

Red String of Fate

Number Countdown

First Words

Last Words

Ink Exchange

Seeing In Color

Aging Pause

Compass Tattoo

Trading Eyes

Sharing Scars

Pain Transfer

Past lives

Telepathic Connection

First Touch

Meeting in Dreams

Tally Marks

Glow Response

Puzzle Pieces

Power Up

Emotional Connection

Body Swap

Reflection

Magnetic

No Lying

Constant Noise

#quirk writes ficlets

26 notes · View notes

lyricfulloflight · 5 years ago

Text

Rumour Has It: Part 2

A modern Cherik AU, powered, university setting.

If you haven’t read part one, here is a link:

https://lyricfulloflight.tumblr.com/post/188224206227/rumour-has-it

Tagging @gold-from-straw because she kindly asked to be tagged if I kept going. If anyone else wants to be tagged for future additions, let me know!

I will be focusing on my long WIP for the next little bit, so I don’t expect to update this ficlet series for at least a week - fair warning.

Rumour Has It - Part 2

Erik sat in his seat and groaned. He could not believe that Professor Garcia was going torture them this way. Group work. How could he do this? Erik had actually been enjoying this class until two minutes ago. Professor Garcia wasn’t a mutant, but he was married to one and had a mutant child, so he was very much aware of the struggles of mutants in society and was relatively sensitive in how he approached the topics covered in class. He also openly encouraged debate, which made class lively and far more interesting than it would have been in a traditional lecture format. But this, this was cruel.

“I am assigning everyone a random partner. And yes, before you all jump down my throat, the selections were totally random, I used a computer program. Your pairings are final. You will not change partners, I don’t care how much to plead with me about it. You will work on this assignment �� together – for the rest of the year. It accounts for thirty percent of your grade, so this is not to be taken lightly. The list of pairings is right here -” Professor Garcia held up one sheet of paper, “and I will post it up front at the end of this class. Now, let’s talk about the Identification Act of 1985...”

Erik spent the rest of the class half listening to the professor and half absorbed in glancing around to look at all his classmates to try and figure out who would be the worst person to be paired up with. There were half a dozen humans in the class who had apparently signed up just to give speeches about how dangerous mutants were and how identification and separation was “essential for national security”. Erik wasn’t sure he could work on an assignment with one of them without it leading to him punching one of them in their smug human face. Otherwise, Erik figured one classmate was pretty much the same as any other. Regardless of who he was paired with, Erik refused to let this stupid group project bring down his grade point average.

The class ended with a rush of students clamoring to the front of the class to get a look at the list of student pairings. Erik sat at his spot and slowly loaded his notes into his backpack. There wasn’t any reason to rush – the list would still be there in five minutes when the crowd cleared, or his partner would find him before he even had to get up and look.

With his head bent over zipping up his bag, the first thing Erik heard was someone clearing their throat.

“Hello. I believe we’re partners.” Said a crisp British voice.

Erik leaned back slowly, something like dread curling in his stomach. He looked up at the man in front of him and found himself looking into the impossibly blue eyes of one Charles Xavier.

“You are Erik Lehnsherr, yes?”

“Yeah.” Erik spoke, determined to react normally – surely it couldn’t that bad to have been paired up with the most promiscuous man on campus. “That’s me.”

“I’m Charles, Charles Xavier.”

Charles held out his hand and Erik found himself reaching out, and having his hand grasped in a surprisingly firm grip.

“I think it best if we meet to talk about the assignment as soon as possible.” Charles continued. “I have to admit my schedule is quite full and it may be difficult for me to arrange time to meet with you if we don’t plan ahead.”

Erik bit the inside of his cheek to keep himself from making some sort of snarky comment about Charles ‘schedule’, which the majority of the university seemed to think involved enough sex for about three healthy young men, and instead nodded in agreement.

“I don’t have class until later this afternoon. We could go to the library now and sort something out, maybe pick our first topic from the list Garcia gave out?” Erik suggested.

“Excellent. I have about an hour before my next commitment.”

Erik found himself walking about a step behind Charles as they exited the classroom. Xavier was a startling fast walker and even though Erik had a good five inches on him at least, he found he had to consciously keep himself from falling behind the shorter man.

He was so focused on lengthening his stride to keep up with Charles, he almost ran right into him when the other man stopped abruptly only a few meters outside the humanities building.

“Found a new fuck, have we Charlie?” Sebastian Shaw’s voice dripped with contempt.

“If you’ll excuse us Sebastian, we were headed to the library.” Charles said blandly, head held high.

“You know he’ll have sex with anything that breathes, right Lehnsherr? If you want to join his pussy footed little Mutant Human Alliance, you don’t have to sleep with him, even though everyone knows he’s slept with the entire group.”

Erik glared at Sebastian but said nothing – there was nothing to say to his baseless accusations.

“Fine.” Sebastian shrugged. “Just wrap it up – who’s know what diseases Charlie has by now.”

Sebastian cackled as he walked away, waving his fingers in a jaunty fashion as if he was saying goodbye to a couple friends, not two people he’d just insulted.

Charles didn’t spare a second to look back at Sebastian, he simply soldiered on and Erik followed him in silence until they found an empty study room at the library.

“Does he do that a lot?” Erik asked.

“Hmm, what?” Charles frowned, apparently confused by Erik’s question.

“Shaw – does he go around saying shit about you all the time?”

“Oh, that.” Charles waved a hand dismissively. “Sebastian doesn’t like the fact that I run a Mutant Human Alliance – it clashes far too much with his ‘Brotherhood’ and their belief in mutant superiority. He likes to try to get back at me with petty insults.”

“He’s an asshole.” Erik grumbled. “And his ‘Brotherhood’ is practically a terrorist organization – their blog has a list of all the human politicians they’d like to ‘eliminate’.”

“I’m aware.” Charles sighed. “I feel the less attention I give Sebastian and his efforts, the better. Now, the assignment – was there a particular piece of legislation you wanted to look into first?”

Erik let his desire to dig into Sebastian’s insults about Charles’ sex life drop. It wasn’t really any of his business.

Working with Charles was nothing like Erik had thought it might be. Charles did not flirt – he didn’t so much as bat his eyelashes. He was completely professional and focused the entire hour they’d spent in the library.

It only took about five minutes for it to become clear that Charles was incredibly intelligent and well versed in mutant legislation. He also wasn’t afraid to voice his opinions, or disagree with Erik. They both agreed they wanted to pick the broad topic of ‘Mutant Identification and Suppression in the Education System’, but spent a good fifteen minutes arguing over which specific piece of legislation to analyze first.

Erik was impressed. A lot of people, well most people actually, backed down in the face of Erik’s tirades, but not Charles. In fact, he hadn’t missed a beat – he was ready with a calm rebuttal to every argument Erik offered. Erik finally, after much back and forth with Charles, compromised by agreeing to start with Charles’ top choice (the Dangerous Mutant Identification Act of 1999), but only after Charles explicitly agreed to end with Erik’s top choice (the Mutant Segregation Bill of 1961).

The meeting ended with a quick check of their schedules and a plan to meet every Tuesday for a brief face to face chat after class and to have a longer collaborative work session every Saturday morning.

Erik walked home feeling unexpectedly happy about the whole thing. It seemed that working with Charles was going to be fine, even if he was nothing at all like Erik had expected.

One might think a man described as the biggest slut on campus would look a certain way. Sean had asked if Xavier was pretty and… he was so much more than that, and yet also, strangely less. Today, he’d been wearing an oversized knit sweater, the type you might see a fisherman wear to keep out the cold, paired with rather ill-fitting corduroy pants. The entire ensemble did absolutely nothing to highlight Charles’ body; clearly he had a body somewhere under all that fabric, but Erik couldn’t have told you if he was thin, muscular, pudgy, or somewhere in between. Despite his complete lack of fashion sense, Xavier’s face more than made up for his clothing choices. His face… his face was achingly handsome. It wasn’t quite pretty, not with its slightly too large nose and the freckles, but it was somehow better because of its flaws.

No, Charles Xavier wasn’t pretty. But damn if Erik was going to tell Sean that Charles’ eyes practically glowed when he was talking about something that got him excited, or that his lips looked just as impossibly red up close as they did from across the room, or that he cheeks flushed an enchanting shade of pink when Erik had teased him about how many books he’d had stuff in his book bag. Erik wasn’t going to share any of that with Sean. Sean’s head would probably explode from excitement from the knowledge that Erik had been within five feet of the infamous Charles Xavier.

No, Erik thought, he’d just keep his newfound knowledge of Charles to himself. No need to add fuel to the already raging inferno that was the Charles Xavier rumour mill. How difficult could it possibly be to keep one little secret from his freshmen roommate?

#cherik #cherik fic #rumour has it #cherik univeristy au #lyric writes #lyric writes too many cherik fics at once #part 2

76 notes · View notes

alphaflyer · 5 years ago

Text

Meme (with corrections)

I was tagged by the lovely @cloud--atlas. And so I copied her piece, with the intention of inserting my own answers. But there were a couple of places I overlooked, leaving her answers in place... OOPS. I fixed one before people read the post but didn’t notice another, so I just decided to delete the original and repost the corrected version. APOLOGIES!!

AO3 name: AlphaFlyer

Fandoms:

The Avengers (Marvel Movies) (59)

Marvel Cinematic Universe (49)

Star Trek: Voyager (30)

Hawkeye (Comics) (10)

The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types (8)

Captain America (Movies) (7)

Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV) (5)

James Bond (Craig movies) (4)

Guardians of the Galaxy (Movies) (3)

Thor (Movies) (2)

Black Widow (Comics) (1)

Ant-Man (Movies) (1)

Avengers (Comics) (1)

Note that most of these (like James Bond, Agents of SHIELD) tend to be crossovers with MCU.

Number of fics published:

AO3 tells me it’s 101, but “Moments” has like 32 distinct fic in it, so it’s more like 132.

Fic I spent the most time on:

Do long periods of inactivity allowing it to simmer in your subconscious count? That would be my two-season MarvelBang, “Seventh Crow”, which I started in the spring of 2015 and finished in the fall of 2016, mostly because of an intervening transatlantic move and family issues, resulting in resolute inability to write. Until my friend Inkvoices made me a fanvid, based on what she knew about the story, and sent it to me for Christmas.

Fic I spent the least time on:

That would be a tie between Savile Row and Five Times SHIELD Tried to Recruit Clint Barton. The first I cranked out over an evening, based on a tag game on LJ; the latter I wrote longhand in a boat while my husband and daughter were fishing, and then typed out/edited it in the evening.

Longest fic:

The top 5 spots are all taken up by Star Trek:Voyager fic, with #1 going to Off the Shoulder of Orion with a word count of 78,804. That was around the time when I started posting chapters before having finished a story, a gamble that ended up backfiring when I ran out of steam on “Proof of Life” (FFN only, so I won’t link to it here.)

Shortest fic:

Among the fic posted on their own, rather than in my Moments collection, that’s a tie between 3 Five-Plus-One fics, in all of which the individual segments are drabble length at 100 words each. The only difference between the three is the length of the author’s note, otherwise they’re exactly 600 words apiece.

Most hits:

Second Mouse, with 38,678 hits (unless you include FFN, where Skies Over Manhattan comes in at 49,169 - but that site counts individual chapter hits. “Skies” is second on AO3 with 23,579).

Most kudos:

Skies Over Manhattan, with 899. (Yo, Folks, can we get that to 900 plsntx.. :P)

Most comment threads:

Moments, at 253 (This is my 32-chapter ficlet collection, so people tend to comment on each chapter as it comes out). For a single story that came out all at once, it’s that energizer bunny MarvelBang, Second Mouse, with 103.

Most bookmarks:

Runaway winner is Skies Over Manhattan, with 330. Followed by Second Mouse with 208. Five Times SHIELD Tried to Recruit Clint Barton, In The Service and Double Deuce are in a virtual tie for third with 137, 136 and 135.

Total word count:

According to AO3, 980,381. Whoops. Seriously???

Favourite fic I wrote:

Oh, man. I hate that question. I'm really pleased with how Second Mouse turned out - nothing but good memories from my collaboration with Inkvoices who illustrated it; also pleased with the sequels and the reception it got from readers. And @hawksandspiders just did a detailed analysis of it on her DW account, which was totally thrilling and made me even prouder of it.

Another little one I’m quite fond of is my Voyager piece “Grace”, because of the rhythm and cadence I used to convey the sense of urgency in the story (a lot fewer people read it...).

Fic you want to rewrite/expand on:

Whoops - so an earlier version of this post left in a clip from @cloud--atlas‘ original post that I cut and pasted... No, I did NOT write “Red Star” although it’s one of the few threesome fics I genuinely like! Here’s my answer:

“Choices”. My very first fanfic ever. First ever attempt at writing, in fact. It’s a post-ST Voyager Endgame thing, detailing what happens to the crew (specifically Tom Paris but others as well) when they come home. It still holds up content-wise, but the dialogue is clunky in parts and the paragraphing atrocious. I haven’t had the guts to go back in and fix it, because it is my Firstborn and we need to own our mistakes and show how we’ve grown as writers somehow (also it’s in the top-5 Voyager stories on FFN in terms of “favourite” pings as it is, so it should probably be allowed to stand on its own). But whenever I look at it, I cringe a little at how much better it could be.

Share a bit of a WIP or a story idea you’re planning on:

Three words: Clint and Flerken. I keep rewriting that one though, so I’m not sure when it will see the light of day...

Also waiting for my @be-compromised “Remix” assignment!

#fic meme #fixing mistakes

3 notes · View notes

profoundnet · 5 years ago

Photo

Header by @cryptomoon and is available on merch from her redbubble store. You can use all those fancy emojis (and more!) on our Discord server!

The Masterpost is open for all creations by ProfoundBond members which are posted in their entirety during that month.

MEMBER CONTRIBUTIONS FOR OCTOBER 2019!

Featuring works from @saywhatjessie, @mittensmorgul, ArielAquariel, @doespeterparkerisgay, @banshee1013, @andimeantittosting, Erratus, @cool-fallen-angel, @malallory, @castielslostwings, @nickelkeep, @bringmefleshandbringmewine, @sarasaurussex, iCeDreams, @emiliaoagi, @leafzelindor and @rauko-is-a-free-elf!

Masterpost below the cut.

JessJesstheBest - @saywhatjessie - JessJesstheBest

On The Line (T, 23k)

“Well, can I scam you?” Dean’s spoon was frozen, forgotten, halfway between his bowl and his mouth. “Did you just ask if you could scam me?” “Yes.” The guy said, cool as anything. “Can I scam you?”

Or the one where Cas is a scam caller and Dean just keeps intercepting his calls.

Tags: Alternate Universe, Human AU, Scam Caller au

mittensmorgul - @mittensmorgul - MittenWraith

Lifetime Piling Up (E, 59k)

Cas is having a bad day. He burned his bagel, missed his ride to work and had to run to the hospital in the pouring rain, and then witnessed his attending accidentally kill a patient during a routine surgery. Now he might be on the hook for his boss’s mistake, but was it really a mistake, or is he the next target of Dr. Nick Morningstar’s sick mind games?

Dean is also having a bad day. His brother nearly set his kitchen on fire, he’s training a new apprentice in his tattoo shop, and then he gets a mysterious call that Sam needs a ride to the hospital after a freak accident in the pouring rain left him with an injured shoulder. A chance encounter at the hospital leads Dean and Cas to each other after a decade of coincidences and premonitions, and suddenly their worst day might become the foundation for all of their best. A story of choice and destiny, and the power of found family, foretold through uncanny tattoos.

Tags: AU-modern setting, tattoo artist!Dean, surgeon!Cas, angst and fluff and smut

ArielAquariel - ArielAquariel

Quoth the Raven (G, 6k)

Dean Winchester didn’t believe in the occult. Werewolves were a myth, Nessie was a hallucination, and bigfoot was just a large hairy man who enjoyed strolling naked through the woods. He thought that crystals were a load of shit, and a smudge stick would do nothing but make your house smell like burnt sage. He didn’t believe in God, let alone ghosts. Finally, and he was 100% sure on this one, he didn’t believe in witches. Or Wicca. Or whatever they wanted to call it. His point? Everything could be explained. That is, everything but the dark-haired man walking through campus with a spellbook and a raven for a familiar…

Tags: Misunderstandings, Fluff, Pining Dean Winchester, Pining Castiel (Supernatural), Alternate Universe - College/University, Meet-Cute, Animal Lover Castiel (Supernatural)

vicktick - @doespeterparkerisgay - vicktick

two bros, arguing about who would top cause they're not gay (but they are) (T, 3.5k)

“No, I’m telling you, I would be the top if we were gay together.”

Oh, Twitter was going to love this: ‘my brother and his “best friend” are currently arguing about who would top if they were “gay together”. i was pretty sure they already were gay together.’

Tags: Alternate Universe - High School, Fluff, First Kiss, Love Confessions, Sam is a Little Shit, Supportive John Winchester

banshee1013 - @banshee1013 - Banshee1013

Suptober Art/Fic (NSFW)

Art and accompanying ficlets to answer Suptober 2019 prompts.

Tags: Fluff, Angst, Depression, Temporary Character Death, Nightmare, Crossover/Fandom Fusion

andimeantittosting - @andimeantittosting - andimeantittosting

I Will Hang My Head Low (M, 22.5k)

Dean Winchester gave up hunting when his brother became the prophesied Boy King of Hell. Now he ekes out a meager living, chopping wood for a nearby village, until one snowy night, he follows what appears to be a falling star, and encounters an injured angel. Afterwards, he tries to put the strange night from his mind.

When he meets Castiel, a mysterious man with healing powers, they form an instant connection, and the more Dean learns of Castiel's powers—to heal, to protect, to purify—the more he begins to hope that Sam can be saved. But as they prepare to save Sam, Castiel grows sick, and then sicker still. Too late, Dean learns how much Castiel is willing to sacrifice for him.

Inspired by the Decemberists' Crane Wife and the Japanese myth on which it is based.

Tags: Temporary Major Character Death, Fairytale/Folktale AU, Sick Castiel, Grief/Mourning, Castiel's Wings, Angst With a Happy Ending

Tentacletober Fills (E, 7k)

A collection of short fills for Tentacletober prompts.

Tags: Tentacles, Consentacles, Oviposition

Erratus - Erratus

A Concerned Brother (T, 2k)

When Sam walks in on Dean and Castiel, he left worried if Castiel understands enough about human relationships.

Tags: Coming out, established relationship, canon verse, mentions of sex but no sex, Sam is concerned for Cas

Watching Over You (T, 4k)

Castiel has always been watching over Dean, keeping him alive. Even if Dean doesn't know it, he's been there.

Tags: Suicidal thoughts/attempt, pre-canon, pre-slash, Cas with different vessels, sad and hurt Dean

cool-fallen-angel - @cool-fallen-angel

Halloween Costumes (NSFW)

I drew this piece for Winchester-reload's 2019 suptoberart challenge, day 31: Halloween

Tags: Halloween, halloween costumes, lingerie, angel costume, playboy costume, blushy Cas, suptoberart, sexy boyfriends

malallory - @malallory

DeanCas "Funeral Bell" graphic (SFW)

Graphic created for the All Ships Creations Challenge under the theme "spooky"

Tags: 15x03

castielslostwings - @castielslostwings - Castielslostwings

Wants and Needs (M, 6.5k)

From a prompt in the Destiel Port FB Group! "Asexual Incubus!Cas and Demisexual Vamp!Dean"

Asexual!Incubus!Cas who has to have sex to feed to stay alive and has always resented it, until he meets Demi!vampire!Dean and discovers that being fed on... actually turns him on, and makes feeding not feel miserable for the first time ever. Imagine Ace!incubus!Cas starving for a long time because he can't stomach the thought of having sex, and then here comes Demi!vamp!Dean feeding on Cas, giving him gratification he thought can only be gained from having sex.

And, you know, they live happily ever after.

Tags: Asexual Castiel, Incubus Castiel, Vampire Dean, Demisexual/Demiromantic Dean, Hungry Castiel, Depressed Castiel, Biting/Blood Drinking, Lonely Castiel, Intimacy, Sweet Dean Winchester.

The Luck You Got (E, 90k)

Castiel and Dean grew up together. Both from broke, broken homes, falling in love was easy - until Dean’s father whisked him away. Years later, Cas is still living the struggle, selling his body to keep a roof over his siblings' heads and using drugs to get by. When Dean returns as a fully grown adult (and a paramedic at that) with his kid-brother-turned-lawyer in tow, Castiel can’t help feeling as if they’re picking up exactly where they left off. Falling swiftly in love all over again but used to only having himself to rely on, he struggles to let Dean in. When Gabriel gets arrested and takes a major source of the family’s income down with him, Castiel struggles to cope and leans on drugs and prostitution instead of Dean. Determined not to lose him for a second time, Dean fights to drag Castiel back from the claws of addiction and the brink of death, no matter what it takes. With help from friends, family, and Dean, Castiel finds himself working towards something for the first time ever, determined to choose life, love, and something more than what the city has always told him is all he has to offer.

Tags: Getting Back Together, Childhood Sweethearts, Neighbors, Poverty, Drug Addiction & Recovery, Sex Worker Castiel, Firefighter/Paramedic Dean, Angst & Fluff & Smut, Happy Ending, Romance.

nickelkeep - @nickelkeep - nickelkeep

‘Cause My Monsters Are Real (T, 8k)

"It's great," Garth responding, grabbing a chair and sliding it over. "Bess is in her glory, and the little one is doing awesome. I love her so much." He smiled a toothy grin that didn't quite meet his eyes. "I'm not here about me, though. I debated coming at all, cause I know how sacred our Fridays are, but I figured you'd want to be prepared."

Sam leaned around Rowena, his arm draped over her shoulder, "What do you mean he'd want to be prepared?"

"You too, Sam. This affects both of you. It literally just happened." Garth hung his head like a kicked puppy. "So, I was back in today, filling out my paperwork to start back up on Monday. And I overheard it."

"Spit it out, Wolfman." Dean leaned his chair back on two legs, foot resting on the table.

"Magda's getting her own room. Emma's getting a new person in the room. They're splitting you two up." Garth looked pathetically at Dean. "You're getting a new partner."

Dean instinctively kicked out, sending him backward and onto the floor. "Ow. What?"

Tags: AU - Creatures & Monsters, Shapeshifter Dean, Fallen Angel Castiel, Human/Monster Society, Kid Fic (kind of), There is Only One Under the Bed

And These Monsters Can Fight (E, 6.5k)

"You think I want to keep her here against her wishes?" Bobby shook his head vehemently. "She'd be one hell of a creature if she were one, but she should go back to the human world. There's a problem that you didn't think of."

"What's that?" Dean spat.

"Dean," Sam softly interjected. "The angels may not want or need Claire anymore because she can no longer be an angelic host, but she is still tied to a source of grace." They all looked at the Fallen.

"I can protect myself!" Claire spoke up. "What do you think I had to do when Castiel couldn't come to me thanks to the stupid rules you all have in place!?"

"Can you protect yourself from three or four or five angels?" Bobby stared at her. "I'll give you one or two, you're a spitfire. But they want him. They're not going to take it light and risk losing a couple when they need all hands on board."

"So what? You want to keep her here?" Dean asked.

Tags: AU - Creatures & Monsters, Story Continuation, Shapeshifter Dean, Fallen Angel Castiel, Human/Monster Society, There is only one under the bed.

Carry Me Home (E, 7k)

"You weren't a scout." Cas opened the laptop and pulled up YouTube. In the search bar, he typed in stopping a squeaking door. He moved the cursor over the first video; from a channel called Impala Repairs. "This looks right." He clicked on the link and grabbed his coffee.

Hey there, and welcome to another quick how-to video with Impala Repairs! I'm your host, D.W., and in today's episode, I'm going to show you the best way to stop a door's hinges from squeaking.

Gabe reached over and pushed up on Cas' chin. "Cassie? You alive over there?"

Cas nodded.

"You need a global reboot?"

Cas pulled his eyes off the screen and shot his brother a look that could kill. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"That means," Gabe reached over and took Cas' coffee, "that you were A, so infatuated with Old Green Eyes on the screen there, you almost dumped your coffee on yourself, and B, you have no idea how to fix the door."

Tags: AU - Modern Setting, Handyman Dean, Professor Castiel, Sneaky Brothers, Conspiring Sam and Gabriel, Strangers to Lovers, Crush at First Sight

Like a Burning Flame (E, 8.5k)

"No, no, no." Dean shot up from under his pile of Ikea cardboard. "There's no fire here. The smoke alarm is disabled, we're seasoning our ovens."

The firefighter removed his helmet and mask, taking Dean's breath away as though he had actually inhaled smoke. "Seasoning Ovens?" He cocked his eyebrow, his bright blue eyes shining in confusion. "And that requires smoke billowing out of the back of your building?"

Dean's mouth failed to move, entranced as he was with the gorgeous man in a firefighter's uniform in front of him. Charlie shook her head and rolled her eyes. "Call your guys off so nothing is destroyed by water, and we'll show you." She turned the firefighter back to the entrance and waited 'til he was outside before smacking Dean. "Rush your blood back to your head, will you?"

Tags: AU - Coffee Shops and Firefighters, Baker Dean, Firefighter Castiel, Strangers to Lovers, Uniform Kink, Panty Kink, Semi-Public Sex, Dom/Sub Undertones, Bad BDSM Etiquette

For the Last Time (E, 37k) - co-created with @little-crazy-misha-minion

It's been three years since Dean's had any kind of vacation. Until now. Sam and Eileen gift him a cruise as a thank you for all the things he's done for Sam, for them, for the whole family. A week away at sea seems like an ideal vacation. Still, when your name is Dean Winchester, and nothing in your life has ever gone your way, it looks like a disaster waiting to happen. Can a new friend help him turn his luck around and help him navigate the rough waters?

Tags: AU - Cruises, Closeted Bi Dean Winchester, Gay Castiel, LGBTQ Themes, Angst with a Happy Ending, NonCon Kissing (not Destiel), Anxiety/PTSD, Song Fic, Clubbing, DCBB2019

To Confess (E, 8.5k)

"So get this... We've got couples missing at a couples retreat the next state over."

"Which lovely lady you going with?" Dean uncrossed his arms and smacked Cas' hand away from the tablet so he could scroll through the article.

"Can't find one. Charlie's still not back. Jody's taking Donna on a hunt."

Cas looked up. "Well, there was a lesbian couple that went missing. You can choose a male partner."

"I was hoping you'd say that, Cas." Sam shot a look at Dean before smiling at Cas. "Will you do me the honor of being my fake husband for a case?"

"Excuse me?" Dean shot a look at Sam.

"Well, I'm not asking you, Dean." Sam shook his head. "That's... Yeah, no."

Dean crossed his arms over his chest again. "Why are you and Cas going? Cas is my best friend. He and I can pull it off better than you two can."

Tags: Canonverse, Case Fic, Idiots in Love, Fake Relationship, Breaking Up & Making up, Pray for Sam, Sam Winchester ships Destiel, Angst and Porn, Happy Ending

It’s About To Be Legendary (G, 1.5k)

"I don't want to kill a human!" Luna hissed, her whisper carrying softly so only her boyfriend could hear her. "If you mess up, you'll bring down hunters upon the pack." She whimpered. "You could bring the Winchesters upon us." Apollo stood up and turned around, his shoulders squaring out as he attempted to intimidate Luna into following his lead. "First of all, I'm not going going to fuck up, Lu. Have a little faith in your boyfriend. Second, the Winchesters are a myth. An urban legend. Something our parents tell us to make sure we follow Pack Law."

Tags: AU - Everyone Lives, Hunters and Hunting, Halloween Fic, Urban Legends

prolixdreams - @bringmefleshandbringmewine - prolixdreams

And The World Kept Turning (G, 4k)

It’s getting harder and harder to die.

Cigarettes disappeared off the market forty years past.

Proper alcohol, the poisonous kind, was banned almost immediately once a safer synthetic got a foothold in the market.

Every pill and patch is equipped with tiny computers to detect blood levels of a chemical and only release their payload when the concentration dips below a pre-set threshold, making overdose nearly impossible with anything obtained legally.

Even sweeteners are tightly regulated and highly taxed.

And now, January 17th, 2089, Castiel’s tablet feeds him another headline that promises longer, safer lives for all:

HUMAN-DRIVEN CARS FINALLY OFF ROADS FOR GOOD

Tags: Major Character Death (Implied/Referenced), Future Fic, Castiel drives the Impala

Sarasaurussex - @sarasaurussex - sarasaurussex

Sarasaurussex's Inktober, Suptober, and Profound Inktober Masterlist (NSFW, contains multishipping)

This is all of my Supernatual art for Inktober, Suptober, and Profound Inktober. Mostly Destiel, but contains non-Destiel ships (Sabriel and Sastiel).

Dress For Success (E, 2k)

Written for the Supernatural Kink Bingo on tumblr. My prompt was 'clothing sharing'. Art commissioned by Purgatory-Jar!

Tags: Clothing Sharing Kink, Humor, Smut

Wherever I May Roam (E, 11.5k, contains multishipping)

Summary: Sam and Dean get sent to another TV Land that's slightly different than the last. In this version, Jensen and Misha are dating. Written for Supernatural Kink Bingo on tumblr. My prompt was 'roleplay'.

Tags: Destiel, Cockles, Dean x Misha, Dub-Con due to Identity Issues, Idiots to Lovers, First Time, Arguing, Fluff, Smut

iCeDreams - iCeDreams

Chasing Polaris (E, 52k) - co-created with Takai13sama

Dean Winchester feels closed-in with his life at the behemoth, Mary’s Ark. His father has set him up with an arranged marriage and is refusing to budge on Dean’s suggestions to improve the steam engines. So... he does the most obvious thing surly young men do: he runs away.

While leaving the steam capital, he inadvertently meets Emmanuel, a man with secrets of his own, intriguing Dean enough to offer him a ride to a common destination.

It’s a serendipitous encounter, a trip across the country, and a chance to find where they need to be.

Tags: Steampunk, Arranged Marriage, Road Trip, Running Away

EmiliaOagi - @emiliaoagi - EmiliaOagi

It’s How You Use It (M, 2.5k)

One night Castiel discovers Supernatural fanfiction. Then Dean walks in. Some very meta crack with a smidgen of smut. Based on a prompt from the Profound Bond Discord.

Tags: Smut, Humor, Meta, Crack

Goose!Dean Crack Post 1 (SFW)

Art inspired by Untitled Goose Game and a Discord prompt: goose!Dean playing a prank on a poor unsuspecting Sam.

Goose!Dean Crack Post 2 (SFW)

Goose!Dean really wants that burger. Cas disagrees.

LeafZelindor - @leafzelindor -

Ink/Suptober collection (SFW)

Just the short collection of the destiel pics I did during Inktober/suptober.

Art for Crayons and Candybars (SFW)

Artwork done for the DCBB fic Crayons and Candybars, written by I. Franco

rauko-is-a-free-elf - @rauko-is-a-free-elf - FeaRauko

Ocean’s Brawl (M, 55k)

In a time of oppression, the Winchester brothers and their family of misfit pirates sail the seas attacking slave traders and offering the liberated passage to safe-havens, or–if they choose it–a home on the Impala as part of Team Free Will.

Dean meets Castiel, a Naval Captain with orders to enlist him and his band of honorable sea rovers as privateers. Dean refuses, but they end up working together when Castiel offers his vessel as transport for some rescued slaves. Castiel, in turn, travels with Dean as collateral to ensure there is no foul play.

Along the way, Castiel witnesses the horrors of slavery and begins to doubt his cause, even fighting alongside Dean against a French vessel–Castiel’s own people. Castiel comes to admire this wild crew and their kind hearts…perhaps falling for one man in particular.

Tags: pirate!Dean, naval officer!Cas, enemies to lovers, team free will, openly bi!Dean, demisexual!Cas, swashbuckling, battles, shanties

Rapunzel, Rapunzel (SFW)

Art for @diminuel‘s fic, Rapunzel, Rapunzel

Tags: Rapunzel!au, fairy tale!au, prince!Dean, witch!Cas

Bisexualdemondean - outfit (SFW)

Art created for bisexualdemondean in response to the question: "What if I just wanted to look sluttier?"

Tags: demon!dean art, bisexualdemondean art

Autumn - Eileen (SFW)

Art for Day 1 of winchester-reload's suptoberart challenge

Tags: Eileen Leahy

"Good Thing I'm Yours, Then" (SFW)

Art for winchester-reaload's suptober challenge: Day 3 - Royalty Inspired by @casbeanwrites‘ fic Kiss Me Where I Lay Down

Tags: servant!Dean, prince!cas, fic art

"Kids These Days" - Art for Clarity (SFW)

Destiel art for @aloha-cowgirl‘s fic Clarity

#dean winchester #castiel #destiel #deancas #spn #profound monthly masterpost #profoundnet #october masterpost #member fic #member art #member graphic

15 notes · View notes

satellite-loved · 6 years ago

Text

---

one: a phone call from johnny.

"yes, hyung. well i got out now didn't i. it's fine, this isn't even big news to you, you know me. okay, okay i will. i'll see you later. bye."

doyoung looks at the time after the call. 12:01 it says. 12 hours of detention for what.

"we won't be putting it on records. we just have to appease them is all. you shouldn't have put yourself in that position kid. being smart ain't it all." doyoung hears the police on duty say to him. he knew he saw him as an inconvenience, complete total waste of time, some kind of stain he needs to get rid of fast or else his mother will barge in and do an hour long monologue about her efforts and how it's unappreciated. the feeling was mutual.

"i was in the right. i was just defending myself."

there, a sigh and a shoo-ing action, a little roll of the eyes to say 'we heard you but you should really go.'

"yeah, yeah. you can go now. just don't try to come here again, it doesn't look good on you."

yeah. whatever. doyoung almost says but chooses not to. he's had enough for the next quarter. the year is gonna continue to go on and he can't be wasting it on something dumb twice with only 12 hours in between. he's better than that.

two: what comes after the release is hunger.

the sun is at high noon now and half of his day is wasted. hd hears his stomach growl as he starts walking away from the station, determined to go straight back home where there is ample air circulation and a soft bed to lie on. but again, hunger. his last meal was before they got him and after that, every hour was just water therapy.

"food. i need food." almost as a pinned reminder.

he gets inside the first shop he spots. some shady little shop right across the station with a sign that reads 'bass bot' and 'cold noodles and tofu available here.' none of it matches.

"welcome!" doyoung gets greeted by a male, around his age with a red cap tied around his head. the ones you see in chinese restaurants. it matches his apron tied around his waist. a pretty small one. the waist. and the shop. no one is inside except him and this guy.

"what can i get for you?" the guy asks, holding a small notebook and a pen on the other hand. his eyes are pretty. tantalizing even.

"isn't there a chef's choice? if there is, i'd get that."

the guy laughs a little but most of it ends up with a wide smile. he's pretty, doyoung finally decides after a while. really pretty. some kind of face that you won't expect to see right here with no crowd.

"okay. chef's choice, i'll get to that." the guy turns but stops before he gets back to the kitchen. "and plain tofu right?"

"tofu?" doyoung asks, confused.

the guy nods then points straight ahead from the glass window where he could see the station. "you came from there right? you need to have it."

three: redemption.

it must be the burning humidity or the loud red paint all over the walls of this shop or the uneven and shaky table topped with his hunger, but doyoung is pissed.

"first of all, i'm no prisoner." he starts as soon as the guy gets back. he seems to be the only one manning the shop, doyoung has seen no one else from his time waiting (and going over his points of argument).

"i didn't say you were." the guy says bringing over the bowl of cold noodles in front of him. doyoung's stomach growls from the smell.

"second-"

"second is you should eat." the guy breaks into his little talk and he tries to glare back at him only to be silenced again by his stomach.

"second is it isn't polite to accuse your customer about something like that. where's your manager, bring them over here." he says after grabbing the chopsticks, trying to keep the glare going on and make the guy feel intimidated, take him seriously, know he means business.

"there's no manager."

"what?"

"i'm the only one who works here. did you see or hear anybody around?"

no. but then saying that would mean defeat. he can't lose twice within a single day so he takes it against the noodles.

"well, this better be good 'cause there's no one else to blame if this is bad other than you."

doyoung gets onto the noodles, he takes the egg first, adds mustard and vinegar sauce before mixing it all together. he feels the guy looking over at what he's doing, probably waiting for his reaction. he starts with his first bite and doesn't find himself stopping until he's halfway into his bowl to take some more breaths before continuing.

the guy finally moves away from him, walking towards the kitchen, humming a tune doyoung's sure he's heard but can't name at all. he sounds satisfied.

four: plain tofu.

the guy, who doyoung finds out a little later goes by the name taeyong, came back shortly after he's done with his noodles. his bowl is empty, no drop of soup to be found and the side dishes are cleared, put atop one another in an orderly fashion and ready to be taken away from his table.

"tofu, if you're still hungry." taeyong says as he sets it down in the table after removing the used ones to the other table across where doyoung is. taeyong grabs one of the chairs and sits beside him, crossing his legs as he pushes the plate of tofu towards doyoung. taeyong introduces himself after this.

"so taeyong, out of all you have to offer me, it's this?"

taeyong shrugs but not without a small smile. he points the signage doyoung saw as he came in. "it's all i have here."

he tries to take a small bite. it's tofu, it's soft. nothing much else. uncomparable to the noodles. doyoung doesn't say this outloud.

"why do you even have your shop here?" he asks after two more bites instead. he can't take any more from there.

taeyong turns towards the window again and with a sigh he talks. "people who come from the station are usually hungry and rent is cheap here." he puts it simple like that, taking his turn with the tofu before letting a question out. "you, why are you there for?"

so doyoung tells him just because. it's nothing shameful, it isn't even his fault (not exactly at least) and it's still too hot outside. his house offers a more comfortable place to be at but at least there's a fan here in taeyong's shop and besides, he won't meet with johnny until much later.

"some oldies just won't listen is all. i got heated. they too. i haven't been in a debate ever since i took a gap."

he was taking a gap year from university since the past semester to take time to sort things out including his internship for the supposed next school year. he's done that in about a month ago, now he's just mostly lying in his bed. he could go back to university the following semester but he feels no rush to do anything.

"you're on a gap year?"

"that's what i said."

taeyong stands up and writes something on a piece of paper hidden he got from his apron's pocket. hands it to doyoung after.

"you could work here if you want." he tells him as he sits down again.

"i said i'm in a gap year." he replies.

"so? i've seen you around, you don't do much besides tend to your house plants."

and there should be finger pointing, doyoung screaming about him stalking him and he could bring him to the police right there and then, but doyoung just sighs. must be the heat. must be the weariness coming along now. must be because taeyong's cold noodles are the best he's eaten the entire month. must be because now that he's not 100% hungry, he could remember seeing taeyong back in his apartment complex. almost everyday too.

"at least, i'm keeping them alive."

taeyong stands up and starts clearing the table, putting the dishes in a tray to bring back to the kitchen. doyoung leaves his payment on the table and leaves with the piece of paper in between his fingers, faces the glaring sun on his way back to his apartment.

he could use a job.

five: another phone call from johnny.

"sorry hyung, i can't do today. what? no, no. i just got something up. some part-time job at some place. it's nearby. whatever. i'll see you when i have time. i have stuff to do okay? yeah yeah. bye."

#dotae #taedo #dotae fic #otp: arguing parents #ficlets

21 notes · View notes

skybound2 · 6 years ago

Note

David x Michael, on a road trip, arguing over music choices (or whatever permutation of that you would like to use!).

Hey, so 500 years later, I know, but I’ve written a thing! Well, several things, sorta? This is basically a series of short ficlets each focusing on a different song, but all connected, and is basically a direct follow on to the response I wrote MONTHS ago for a different prompt (You Are My Sunshine)!

THANK YOU SO MUCH for the prompt, it helped get me out of a rut, LIKE A LOT. (Also, I had a TON OF FUN thinking up songs to set each piece too :-D)

Takes place in my Walk Unafraid universe sometime after Michael has gone full vamp, and is maybe just a little bit cracky ;-P

Hope you enjoy!

Billy Idol “Rebel Yell”

Michael frowns as the first few beating notes of the song start pouring out of the speakers. Before the first line is over, he’s a freshman again, shuffling into the streamer and tinsel decorated nightmare that was his first (and last) high school homecoming dance.

He hadn’t wanted to go. Would rather have been playing chicken with his skateboard on the highway. Or at home, babysitting Sam and rewatching that movie with the talking rats for the fiftieth time.

Or working on his math homework.

Really, just about anywhere else doing anything else would have been preferable.

But he’d made junior varsity on the football team (Thanks, he’s sure, to him being a year older than the rest of the freshman class. Flunking third grade. So helpful.) and even though he hadn’t played a second of that day’s game, it had been made clear that he was expected to attend that evening’s festivities.

To support his team. And school.

Rah rah rah.

He hadn’t given a rat’s ass about any of it, not when the girl he’d been seeing (if you could call one awkward make-out session ‘seeing’) had broken things off with Michael the day before, opting to go to the dance with Michael’s friend Keith instead.

The situation might have been less of a mess, Michael suspects, if the sight of his friend and former almost-girlfriend dancing together had sparked the expected kind of jealousy for Michael.

Which of course, it hadn’t. Instead, it had dosed Michael with a confusing case of adolescent ‘what the fucks’ when he’d caught Keith and Jenny kissing mid-dance, and he’d realized just who he was jealous over.

The whole thing had gone topsy-turvy not long after, in a spectacular (sloppy, messy, pathetic) fist fight between Michael and Keith on the dance floor to the tune of that damn overplayed Billy Idol song.

Michael had been suspended for two days following the fight. Which had been fine by him, as it gave him time to first come to terms with what he’d been feeling, and then to find a careful place in his psyche to shove said feelings into, to be dealt with never.

Three years later, Michael had moved away, the bond between him and Keith forever broken.

As the memories play back in Michael’s head, Michael finds that the old agitation, that bitter ache of confusion and loss he’d always felt in the past, is muted. The scene’s a faded sort of matte gray, instead of technicolor. Like it happened to someone else, and he’s just catching the repeat on late night TV.

Which in a way, he guesses it kind of had. The person he is now so far removed from who he was then as to be unrecognizable.

Different person or not, he still hates the song. (Maybe he hasn’t changed that much.) And so Michael’s lip lifts up in a sneering approximation of the blond singer’s trademark curl as he reaches for the knob and seeks out another station.

“Hey. I was listening to that.” The complaint from the driver’s seat is annoyed but without any real heat.

Michael keeps twisting the knob, not looking at his companion, skipping over white noise in search of something - anything - else. “We’ll find something else. Can’t stand Billy Idol.”

Even though Michael knows it’s not actually possible, it feels as if the temperature inside the car drops several degrees. Shock reverberates across the link between Michael and David loud enough that it bounces Michael’s brain around inside his skull, forcing him to turn his head away from the radio towards the blond as he continues to spin the dial.

David appears downright scandalized as he stares back at Michael, eyebrows making friends with his hairline. “You can’t stand Billy Idol?”

Michael nods, head tilting at David, confused by the obvious annoyance rolling off of him.

And also a little worried by how long David has kept his eyes from the road, regretting having let the blond take over driving duties at the last gas station. “Uh, yeah. Leaves a bad taste in my mouth. Can you watch the road, David? Don’t feel like getting up close and personal with the guardrail.”

David sneers, but turns his head back to the road, grumbling incoherent words beneath his breath that, try as he might, Michael can’t pick out.

Not that it matters, as when an audible sentence finally does work its way up and out, Michael’s still as confused as when all he’d heard was gibberish. “I’ve made a mistake.”

Michael frowns. “With what?”

“Making you immortal. I can’t spend eternity with someone who doesn’t appreciate Billy Idol.”

Michael snorts, his hand dropping away from the dial when he locates something less detestable to listen to. The fast pace guitar chords and beats of Mötley Crüe playing through the speakers as a backdrop, he leans back in his seat, head angled towards David, the better to watch the exaggerated play of disgust on his lover’s face. “Too late. No take backs.”

David’s frown deepens, but there’s a twitch at the corners of his mouth, like he’s fighting the upward tug of a smile. “Never too late for anything, Michael.”

Michael smirks at him, stretching his legs out and dragging his tongue across his bottom lip in a deliberate attention grabbing move that pulls David’s eyes straight to his mouth. “Yeah. Right. After how hard and long you fought for me?” Michael drags the words out with dirty intent. Feeling playful, and eager to wash away the lingering remnants of that earlier time, of that earlier life. He draws upon more recent, much more pleasurable memories, letting them hover at the front of his mind. The spike of lust that floods the air between them all the proof he needs that David’s on the same page. “Yeah. That’s what I thought.”

“So damn sure of yourself, aren’t you?” The question is spoken with careful neutrality that does nothing to disguise the visceral want pouring off of David.

A growl thrums across Michael’s vocal chords. “Pull over. Let’s find out.”

David does.

And they both forget all about Billy Idol.

Abba “Fernando”

Sated and settled back in the passenger seat on the road south, David knows what song it is from just the first couple of notes. He has no intention of subjecting himself to it, so he reaches for the dial only to have his hand smacked away by Michael. Shocked, he looks up at the man behind the wheel, the driver’s blue eyes alight with mischief as he starts to sing along with the music while David watches on in horror. “No. No absolutely not. Turn it off. Right now.”

But Michael’s hand stays covering the dial as his voice gets stronger. When he hits the title lyric he leans heavily away from the wheel in David’s direction and croons it in his face. David’s frozen in place by the disturbing sight. “Why do you even know the lyrics?”

‘You’ve met my mother and my brother, you honestly think I wouldn’t know the lyrics?’ The thought jumps from Michael’s mind to David’s, but Michael’s singing voice doesn’t falter at all as he sings about crossing the Rio Grande.

Under any other circumstances, David would be damn proud of Michael that his ability for telepathic multi-tasking has come along so far, but as is, he’s too distressed to feel much of anything else.

“Is this a method of torture? Is that why you’re doing this? Testing the waters? Because if so, bravo. Very effective. But it’s time to stop now.”

Michael cackles. Cackles! As he smacks David’s hand away from the dial again, the sound bleeding into an off-key “Liberty” with a devilish grin upon his face as he turns the volume up.

David sinks as deep into the leather bench seat as is possible, all the way against the door, trying to put distance between himself and the… horror happening on the other side of the car. “Just stake me. It would hurt less.”

The gleam in Michael’s eyes is pure evil as he sways towards David again, all his earlier concern for road safety seeming forgotten in his Abba-induced haze.

He manages to keep the car between the painted lines and away from any ditches as the song comes to an end - though it weaves a considerable amount. The smile on his face when he looks David’s way on the final note is wide and brilliant and blinding. Pleasant waves of giddy happiness echoing across the bond so strongly, that David’s own treacherous emotions race to sync up with those of his tormentor.

David hates himself a little for being so far gone on the bastard, but the shared laughter that fills the car between them feels good all the same.

Deep Purple “You Keep On Moving”

Another tank, another station, another song.

Michael smiles as the beat of a tune he never hears getting radio airplay hits his ears. He drums his fingers against his knee, mouthing along to the lyrics and bouncing his leg in time. Thinking it might be fun to finally learn how to play something other than his kneecap. The drums, or the guitar even. Or hell, why not both? He’s got nothing but time now, right? Why shouldn’t he spend it learning how to play a dozen instruments if he wants?

David speaks up when the song hits the third verse and Michael’s halfway through an imaginary worldwide tour as the next biggest drummer since Bonham. “Paul had a copy of this album.” He chuckles, once, the sound dark and heavy. “Two copies, actually. One he’d worn down to nothing. Sounded like garbled shit, but it was the only one he’d play. Said he was keeping the other ‘for posterity’ or something.”

Michael returns from his European stage debut and looks to David, trying to judge the meaning behind the story. The other man offering up information on the absent boys so rare, that he figures there must be a reason for it.

There’s not much light to illuminate him, the dash on the old vehicle mostly dark, but Michael’s eyes don’t need much light to see by these days. Not that it matters, as there’s nothing to read on the blond’s face, his expression that disconnected mask that Michael’s grown so familiar with in the past year.

“Think he bought the first one on account of the cover, but turned out he liked the music too.” David’s voice is muted - not so soft as to be wistful, but a next door neighbor to it maybe.

Michael digs through his brain, trying to recall what the cover looked like, but comes up empty. He prods at David for some help, snorting when David reproduces in Michael’s mind the image of the band’s disembodied heads floating in a wine glass of dark red liquid, with the tagline ‘Come Taste the Band’ scrolled over the top. He guffaws at the sight. “Why am I not surprised?”

“Paul was always easily amused.” The comment is said with a quiet intensity that peters out to a heavy silence, despite the song still rocking through the car.

It leaves Michael feeling like he’s intruding on something he shouldn’t be. He inches back and forth in his seat, tapping the leather seating between the two of them instead of his knee. “You, uh, you want me to change it?”

David glances at Michael, the expression on his face a little mournful, but not despondent or angry as it may have been in the past. “Nah. It’s a good song. Let it play.”

Michael nods once, and the song plays on.

Fleetwood Mac “Landslide”

“…”

“I - you can change it if you want.”

“Course I can.”

“…”

“Are you gonna change it or…”

“Nah. Took too long to find this station. Probably just be static everywhere else.”

“Yeah. You’re probably right. So…we leave it then?”

“Might as well. It’ll be over soon.”

“Okay.“ Michael takes a deep breath, uncertain about what he’s about to say, but unable to stop himself. “This was Star’s-”

“I know.”

“And you still don’t mind-”

“No. Should I?” The questions is flat. Unconcerned, but Michael doesn’t miss the way David’s face tightens when he asks it.

Michael moves his right shoulder in an awkward shrug. “Just got the impression you didn’t care for her much.”

David makes a low humming sound. “Liked her well enough at first. Liked her a whole lot less later on.”

Michael doesn’t have a ready response for that, knowing damn good and well why David’s feelings towards Star changed.

“You heard from her lately?”

Michael whips his head towards David, surprised by the question.“No. I haven’t.“

David hums again, fingers flexing on the steering wheel as he does. “Sure about that?”

“When exactly do you think I would have talked to her, David?”

“No clue. It’s why I asked.”

Michael thinks that’s a lie, but doesn’t call David on it. Instead, he settles back, letting Stevie Nicks serenade them for a few verses before offering what little he does know. “She calls my Mom sometimes. They…talk.” David’s gaze stays firmly on the road, though Michael can feel the way tension thrums through his frame. “Think she’s still with Laddie, wherever they went. I don’t - I haven’t spoken to her since she left.” It’s the truth, but for some reason it feels like a lie.

“She took Laddie back to his father I take it?”

Michael gives a noncommittal bounce of his head. “Think so.”

“Hmm. Maybe we should pay them a visit.”

Michael lets out a low laugh at the comment. “Doubt we’d be welcome.”

A sly smile that Michael knows can’t mean anything good lifts the corner’s of David’s mouth. “Never know if we don’t try. Could pencil it sometime after Phoenix.”

Michael rolls his eyes, knowing he’s being baited and not about to be caught. “Yeah sure. Why the hell not?” Michael smirks at the way David’s forehead scrunches up at the easy agreement. He means it - he’s curious enough about where Star ended up and what she’s been doing that visiting her isn’t the worst idea he’s ever heard - though he’s not so much of an idiot that he doesn’t know that David’s reasons for wanting to see her are far from benign.

No longer in the mood for the song, Michael changes the station.

Billie Holiday “You’re My Thrill”

David hums as he twists the dial through station after station of white noise. He spins it past an old jazz tune, but then twirls it back again, making an appreciative noise as a crooning female voice starts to spill from the speakers.

Satisfied with his find, he slouches back into the leather upholstery, eyes closed and an almost dream-like smile on his face.

From his spot in the driver’s seat, Michael goggles at him. “Seriously?”

“Michael Emerson, if the next words out of your mouth are that you don’t like Billie Holiday either, I’m leaving you at the next truck stop and you can find your own way back to Santa Carla. I don’t care how close to sunrise it is.”

The way his voice doesn’t falter when he says it brings Michael up short, making him think that it may be more than just an idle threat. (Not that Michael would let him leave him behind without a fight, but that’s beside the point).

Michael manages to keep his mouth shut for a cool twenty seconds, during which he watches David out of the corner of his eye. Watches as the bleached-blond, spiky-haired murderous vampire clad all in black - not a small amount of it leather, hell, there are spurs on his boots for Chrissakes - quietly enjoys the old-fashioned song. The disconnect between the image he presents and the one the song evokes makes Michael laugh. “Damn, what decade are you from, Old Man?”

“The seventies, Michael.”

Michael snorts, rolling his eyes. Not that David can see him with his own eyes enjoying the view behind their lids. “Yeah sure. You’re younger than me. Explains the occasional tendency to throw tantrums still.”

“The eighteen-seventies, Michael.” David says, calm and cool and not at all joking.

Michael’s hands on the wheel jerk sideways in surprise, sending the car swerving over the line before he can yank it back where it belongs. David’s eyes crack open at the disturbance, leveling a glare at Michael, but he doesn’t react otherwise. “Seriously?”

David smirks at him, slipping the cigarette he had stowed behind his ear down and to his mouth. He doesn’t give Michael an answer, just flicks his lighter open and sets flame to the stick, puffing on the end to get it to light, and settles back into his seat, eyes half-closed.

Michael molls the unexpected tidbit of information over in the space between verses. One particular thought standing out in greater relief against the rest. “Shit…you’re older than my Grandpa. By a lot.”

“I am. And if you want to be too one day, shut it and let me enjoy the song!”

It’s only the lingering shock of the information that keeps Michael quiet. It has nothing to do with the amber gleam in David’s eyes.

Really.

Besides, as far as old-as-sin songs go, it’s not half-bad.

Starland Vocal Band “Afternoon Delight”

Approximately one point five seconds into the song, David’s hand meets Michael’s as they both reach for the dial. David growls, fangs dropping. “I will break your hand, your arm, and all your fingers if you try and stop me from changing the station, Michael.”

Michael’s hand raises up in the air in a placating gesture that David doesn’t trust. At all. “Hey! I was trying to change it too.”

“Sure you were.” David twists the dial, spinning it through endless seas of static and snowstorms and a whole lot of absolutely nothing else.

“I was.” Michael’s voice is pleading, but there’s mischievous glint in his eyes that doesn’t match the sound.

David gives him a sideways glare. “Somehow, I don’t believe you.”

Michael breathes out a heavy-handed sigh. “So little trust. And here I thought we’d really been getting somewhere this past year.”

David rolls his eyes. “You forfeited all rights to musical trust after that horrendous ‘Mamma Mia’ sing-along.

“Hey! First off, it was ‘Fernando’, and second: you enjoyed that. You were smiling. I saw you.”

“That was a defense mechanism, Michael.”

“Liar.”

Which is true, but David’s not about to admit it. So he ignores him, and stops the dial on a patch of white noise; settling back in his seat to enjoy the scratchy sound of absence.

Less than a minute of quiet passes between them before Michael’s hand inches for the radio. David’s voice is curated calm when he says: “Try me, Michael.”

“Idle threat.”

“When have you ever known me to be idle, hmm?”

Michael scoffs, giving David a tilted smile that tells the elder vampire just how little Michael thinks of David’s threats. “Go ahead, tell me all the ways that you’re gonna torture me if I change the station. What’s it gonna be this time? Something more creative than holy water dipped knives, I hope?”

“You ever heard of ‘torpor,’ Michael?” David asks, dipping into the darker part of his psyche. To the blackened memories of his early life under Max’s so-called-care. Fully intending to shower Michael with the visual of being trapped - buried - deep beneath the earth in a impenetrable box, screaming for his maker to let him out. To let him go. Screaming until his throat runs dry, and the blood in his veins slows to a trickle. Skin gone paper-thin, and ashen. So desperate to be released that he’ll say anything. Do anything.

David doesn’t plan to exact such a punishment on Michael of course, but he’s not above a little mental torment. Especially not after being trapped in a car for two-hundred plus miles with Michael and his previously undocumented love of country music and disco.

But before David can so much as conjure up an image of a box or a handful of dirt, Michael frowns in his direction. “Don’t think so. That a New Wave group or something?”

A surprised bark of laughter bursts out of David, amused eyes latching onto Michael. “What? No, it’s-” He shakes his head, small peels of laughter leaking out of him as he does. David’s laughter grows in time with Michael’s confusion. The uncertain look upon the younger vampire’s face endearing to David in a way that it has no right to be.

David shakes his head, his plans to teach Michael a lesson forgotten. “You know what, never mind.”

A frown stays planted on Michael’s face for a while longer, the confusion fading at a snail’s pace. But he drops the subject, and the two of them drive on in silence.

A silence that lasts for the length of time it takes Michael to forget why the radio was off in the first place.

But David hasn’t. So really, it’s Michael’s fault that David launches at him, teeth bared, and the car is sent skidding off the road.

At least there aren’t any guardrails to hit.

And if the only casualty of the accident ends up being the radio, well, they were do for an upgrade anyway.

Preferably one with a cassette deck.

~End

37 notes · View notes