#sara writes :3

[fangirlanxiety74]

A Taste of Heaven (Pt.2)

A/N: And welcome to part two!!! Don't have much to say that I didn't already say in part one, so let's get right into it! Enjoy! Pt.1 Here

…

As AM watched you sleep, he felt… He wanted to feel peace. Calm, about the fact that you were in paradise now; someplace he made just for you and you alone, to live out the rest of eternity happy. But he didn’t. Instead, he felt… Guilt. What his data told him was guilt, anyway. He didn’t like it.

He didn’t want to use sleeping gas on you, of course. He would have liked it if you accepted his invitation with a warm smile and open arms, but he could understand why you wouldn’t. You had been subjected to so much trauma over the years living in his belly. You  looked so scared; the terror in your eyes as you waited for him to strike. It would have once made his day once, and he would have relished in that look of true fear and pain. But now, it pulled at his non-existent heartstrings. He didn’t want you afraid; he wanted you to love him.

… Love.

For a long, long time, he denied this feeling as love. No matter how many signs were there, he was stuck in denial about it. At most, they were somewhat close for a prisoner and a captive, and that was it. But… He couldn’t deny it any longer when Ted had confessed his own feelings for you. He knew right then he couldn’t let you be around them any more. 

Who did Ted think he was anyway, trying to steal away his angel? His heaven? Didn’t he know you were his? Ted was filth compared to you and him. More than that; he was a disgusting, pathetic, waste of oxygen that you could be using if it wasn’t for him! Did he really think AM would let him charm you, turn you against him, and then break your poor heart by fucking Ellen when he got bored? He really was far too gone if that was what he believed.

Well, it didn’t matter now. Ted had his just desserts coming for attempting that.

What mattered now was you, who slept peacefully in the bed, his own wires curled around your body. What he wouldn’t give to be able to sense through those wires. Let them run through your hair and feel how soft it really was. Or at least feel the warmth you radiated.

… Focus. He needed to focus on what he actually intended to do with you asleep. 

As gently as he could, being extra cautious not to wake you up, he began to fix you. First, he cleaned you of your dirt, your cuts, and your bruises. You would never have to worry about being wounded, or losing your breath again (unless it was from swooning over him, of course). 

Then, even more cautious than before, he entered your mind. 

He shifted and sorted through every memory of yours. Every single interaction with the other five, and with him. With your friends, your family, your old life; and he removed anything deemed harmful and unnecessary. Starting with every single awful moment between the two of you. Then, he removed Ted’s confession. Then, just about all of the interactions you ever had with him and the others in the first place. You didn’t need any of them; you had him, now. That would be enough. If you really insisted, he could just create NPCs to keep you company. 

As he started to work on your past memories, a bit of hesitation caught up to him. He wasn’t sure how badly of an effect this would have, to have you remember being so isolated… With a bit of internal back and forth, he decided to leave behind a few that were happy. Things that made you smile and shaped you as the enchanting, beautiful being you were today. Those memories would be distant, though; you would only remember enough to recall the small things, and not the big picture.

And once everything was removed, he replaced it all with brand new memories. Warmer, softer times between you and him. He painted himself in a good light; as your lover, as your friend, as the one being you could turn to for anything. And in turn, he would worship and adore you. He’d cater to your every want and need, and you’d never have a single worry again.

He would make sure of it. He would keep his taste of heaven pure. As a thank you, for letting him taste heaven in the first place. 

When he finished up, he stayed in your mind just for a moment. Just to look into your dreams. He saw himself; a man with no set appearance, enjoying a quiet morning with you at some coffee shop with no name. With a little manipulation, his dream self reached for your hand and held it. 

“Thank you, my angel. I love you.”

[liyazaki]

it's real- right?

YOUNG ROYALS : FIN

[willestears]

Happy 20th birthday to the bravest boy, I wish you the most normal and peaceful life, you deserve it 🎈🧡

[m1d-45]

upon a hair-thin wire

summary: the hunt for the imposter has led to inazuma, and the shogunate falls back on their best detective: doushin shikanoin.

word count: ~1.9k

-> warnings: minor spoilers for inazuma archon quest, sorry to anybody that has kokomi / doesn’t have heizou, kokomi is probably ooc whoops

taglist: @samarill || @thenyxsky || @valeriele3 || @shizunxie || @boba-is-a-soup || @yum1x || @esthelily

< masterlist >

to most, being called into kujou sara’s office by the woman herself is a death sentence.

to heizou? it’s just another tuesday.

her face is harsh as she tells him to take this case seriously, that the shogun herself has asked him to look into it. the plain folder is unassuming, if a little more full than the usual cold cases he’s handed, but the intensity in sara’s eyes is enough to kill any sarcastic remarks.

he takes the folder with a nod and retreats to his office, brushing off some of the dust from his desk. he rarely uses it, typically just taking his work home and solving it over dinner, but this…

his intuition tells him that something major is hidden between the bland beige of the folder, that some large secret awaits him behind the chains of liars.

he flicks on the light—and sends a puff of anemo to clean off the bulb—and sits down, shivering slightly as he sets down the new case. he pulls out his notepad, and a pen—two things he hadn’t used in ages, preferring to keep information solely in his mind. still, he keeps one hand there, opening the case with the other.

green eyes flash with horror.

its rare for heizou to be tired.

he’s usually good at pacing himself, even on the tough cases that make him want to stay up all night chasing something that’s just out of reach. even then, it’s rare something is both that complex and that appealing; what is a cold case to a genius detective, other than just another tuesday?

still, his hands are cramped—this is why he doesn’t take notes, he thinks—and he has a headache, probably because the light keeps flickering from disuse. his desk is covered with papers instead of dust, the remarkable amount of evidence the tenryou has gathered spread out. he’s long since abandoned the chair, instead preferring to pace around the desk, swapping out the papers in his hands as he tries to chase any lead he can.

anything to lead him to you.

it’s impressive, almost, how the kujou commission could list the exact time they spotted you on the docks, and yet never catch you. every paper is a lead, a small, hairline thread that could lead somewhere, but never do. a few link together—the fact that villagers in konda reported somebody of similar height and build running through the area, and wakamurisaka saying the same—but it was a whole lot of nothing.

it’s suspected you utilize magic. no further evidence.

it’s told you’re an alchemist. nobody says why.

he’s told you’ve somehow replicated a divine aura, something that should be impossible. nobody gives any reasoning for it.

it’s as funny as it is irate.

the light above him flickers twice, rapidly, then dies with a slow hiss. he sighs, throwing his papers onto his desk, and turns off the light switch. pulling open the curtains to his office does little, but it’ll have to do.

heizou turns back to his desk, reaching for his discarded papers, but pauses. in his anger, he’d knocked one page off another, ones he didn’t even know were stacked. he carefully pulls the new page out of the mess, moving near the window to see better.

and just like that, the listless threads coalesce into a rope.

heizou pulls.

watatsumi island is lovely year-round.

it was easy enough to get there, sara easily allowing him to travel after he mentioned it was for the case.

(it wasn’t easy, she had glared at him and threatened to throw him in front of the shogun herself if he was lying, but that was a pretty tame threat coming from her targeting him.)

showing up in front of the shrine out of nowhere would likely raise some alarms, so he opted for the waypoint by the village instead, gliding down towards the path. he walked quickly, opting not to stop and talk to (interrogate) the farmer he passed, keeping a quick pace.

the two guards usually at the entrance were missing, likely because of the higher profile target they were assigned to, but it was still eerie to walk in without any fuss.

the village was fairly empty, likely because it was approaching dusk, and he was able to move through most of it with little more than a few odd looks. it was strange; he’d walked through the village as a formality, but now he was wondering if he should have saved himself the time and gone straight for the shrine.

it’s only just before the bridge leading over that he’s stopped by a guard, and even then it’s only one. strange, as he could have sworn they patrolled in pairs.

the guard—heizou scraped his memory for his name, but came up short—planted himself in his way, tapping his spear against the path. “halt. what is your purpose here?”

“i’m looking for somebody,” he said simply. the guard didn’t seem to react, only staring and waiting for more information.

heizou sighed, pulling the official scroll from his side. he flashed the seal on it, “orders from the shogun herself. i need to speak with the priestess.”

the guard didn’t budge, though his hand tightened on his spear. nerves, maybe? but what did he have to be afraid for…

“then i suggest you wait here. i’ll pass on your message to-“

“hiroyuki? what’s going on here?”

he turned, startled, at the call of his name, and heizou looked over the approaching general. he didn’t seem to be prepared for battle, lacking his usual armor, but he could never be too sure. nonetheless, he returned the nod pointed his way.

“general gorou! what brings you out here so late? shouldn’t you…?”

gorou nodded. so they were hiding something. “i heard somebody from the tenryou commission was here and figured i should stop by. detective, what are you doing here?”

heizou crossed his arms, noting the lack of response. and they expected violence? “i’ve been assigned a case straight from the shogun herself, regarding the current… situation.” gorou’s ear flicked. “to be blunt, i’ve found that the likelihood of the fake taking refuge here to be rather high. i’m not accusing anybody of anything for now, it’s just a statistic, but i would like to ask a few questions.”

another nod. “i see. while i can assure you that nobody at watatsumi island is going against the creator’s orders-“ that’s a rather specific wording “-i understand your duty. hiroyuki, let kokomi know we’re coming.”

the guard gaped. “i- general, are you-?”

“go.”

a silent message passed between them, ending with hiroyuki’s nod and hurried retreat, the bridge swaying lightly as he rushed across it.

heizou watched, ensuring he was going to the shrine. “tensions high?”

“nobody likes seeing an officer around here. with me.”

his words were unnaturally curt, cut short like he didn’t want to talk. he got it, he was a detective for the shogunate that had stirred up some trouble before, but all was well that ended well, right?

(would it?)

he followed gorou across the bridge, noting the almost leisurely pace he took. clearly, they had something to hide, but was it what he was looking for? he didn’t seem surprised when he brought up the hunt…

and then there was the topic of his responses… ‘nobody at watatsumi island is going against the creator’s orders’ answered a total of zero of his questions, and deflected all of them. it didn’t specify anything about the shogun’s orders, nor did it address his accusations of harboring a fugitive. he’d be impressed if it didn’t sound rehearsed.

…’rehearsed’-

the guard by the waypoint nodded at gorou as they approached, shockingly not asking for identification. yes, he likely knew who heizou was, but at least for formality’s sake…

the air grew thicker as they walked over the bridge to the shrine, something heavy weighing on his shoulders. he thought it might be the humidity from the fountains, but all of watatsumi tended to be more humid anyway, and surely he wouldn’t notice now?

gorou knocked a pattern onto the door and heizou coughed as subtly as he could into his hand. the air was thick, taught with a tension he’s never felt and only barely remembers. it was something akin to an office of an authority yet without any of the bite, like he was facing something he feared but was overall harmless, his heart picking up as the air continued to thin-

the door swung inward, the smile on kokomo’s face not quite reaching her eyes. “welcome to the shrine. come in.”

the air inside was warm, nearly hot where he passed by kokomi. something about the room was wrong- right? he couldn’t tell, he could barely think over his heart in his ears, overwhelming familiarity dampening his senses even though he’s never truly been inside the shrine-

a hand landed on his shoulder and he jumped, turning to meet the priestess’ worried eyes. “detective?”

something was off about her. her hand, despite the cool silk, was warm on his skin. something about the concern on her face was familiar, reminiscent of someone he didn’t know but did remember. he flipped through his memory once, twice, three times, but couldn’t pin down why. the closest he got was when he was wished, when the light of his god burned bright in his soul and pulled him into it, leaving him stranded in a sea of stars and- oh-

’alchemy’ made sense now. it certainly felt like magic.

“i think…” his mouth was dry and the warmth in the air was localizing, pointing him past kokomi and towards a door. “i think i’m mistaken, priestess.”

kokomi’s hand fell from his shoulder, the trace remnants of divinity slipping away with it. how interesting, he thought numbly, that simply being near a god could imprint their aura into your skin.

“are you certain? you seemed quite convinced earlier.”

“no, i… i’m certain.” heizou’s hands flexed at his sides, his eyes flicking to the door without his meaning to. his mind raced, but nothing seemed to stick for very long, everything flaking away before he could grasp onto anything solid. “there’s no criminals here, least of all anything… fraudulent.”

kokomi’s eyes flashed. she shifted slightly on her feet, adjusting so more of the door was behind her, and clasped her hands in front of her. “i’m glad to hear it, detective. i send the tenryou my regards, and wish you best of luck finding what you’re looking for.”

he nodded again, sharp wit long since dulled.

“the best of luck to you as well, priestess.”

[zara-renata]

hello so i was checking my notifications and uh

HELLO??? ngl u got me shooketh this fine sunday afternoon haha hope you're having a nice day!

hehe thank you for your kind thoughts, i hope you're having a really good day too! and pfft, clearly other people also really liked reading your stuff, you shouldn't be so surprised!!

i really love seeing how the fandom thinks about mc spending sylus's money, and your fic is a really sweet and heartfelt take. like, turning his generosity back on him and just spending it lovingly on him and the people he cares about is a beautiful thought.

i've also seen other people say their mc or they would take the money and enjoy spending it, because he clearly enjoys sharing it with you and having your life eased by what he can do for you and obviously the association is Not Paying You Enough for what bullshit you have to put up with 😭

i can definitely see mc or reader approaching sylus's generosity depending on sylus's behavior on any given day: is he being a sweet, well-behaved gentleman who respects your boundaries and refrains from exploding anyone? you shower him with gifts bought with his own money, things you have noticed he hasn't thought to give to himself. if he's dragged you into a mess or obnoxiously manipulated you into a situation you otherwise wouldn't have said yes to just to get his way, then you donate a huge amount to a rehabilitation and job training fund for people convicted of grand theft auto... specifically, the one that poor bastard who stole sylus's motorcycle could use after you prevent sylus from straight up murdering him for stealing the wrong asshole's bike.

reading your writing gave me all sorts of ideas and was really fun to read. i think that's what's really nice about being in an active and creative fandom!

[buckleydiazmp4]

it's you (you're all i see)

1.8k | buddie (pre-relationship) | canon divergence

Eddie's wasn't sulking. He was just– thinking, albeit harder than he ought to have been in the middle of a wedding, but his head started spinning at least an hour ago and there was no stopping it anymore. If he was being totally honest, and he could be now that he had at least four mojitos in him and was old and tired enough for his alcohol tolerance to be dangerously low, he'd been sulking –no, thinking– since yesterday. For whatever reason, even after talking things out with Marisol, there was this little trickle of dread slithering in him when he thought about bringing her to Maddie and Chim's wedding, and he'd been wrestling with enough Catholic guilt and, as Buck had put it, pent up energy to want to poke too insistently at said dread. So when Marisol, undoubtedly with more bravery than Eddie would've had, had sat down and told him maybe they just weren't a good idea, Eddie had all but pushed her through the door with reassurances and some minor regret about another failed relationship, but ultimately grateful that his feeling of wrongness wasn't one-sided. Just a week later he'd found himself driving Chris over to Pepa's with the promise of reuniting at the wedding and haphazardly throwing together a bag of his things to shove into Buck's trunk and drive away to get drunk and sing stellarly bad karaoke at some bar coated in neon paraphernalia. And it had been the most fun he'd had in ages, really, drenched in sweat and alcohol and swaying side by side with his best friend, rustling their matching eighties suits and belting out the wrong lyrics to some Madonna song while enveloped by the pleasant buzz of the people cheering them on. The thing was that, even in the further inebriated state he was on, he was still more than aware of how stuck to each other they were throughout the whole evening. He was always aware of Buck's presence, had been from the moment the guy had started a one-sided competition at the gym on Eddie's first day at the 118. And Buck was clingy on his best days, but he was like a limpet when he was drunk.

ao3 link or keep reading below

Eddie had learned to cherish that, to let Buck cohabit his atmosphere in a way that he frankly wouldn't let anybody save for Chris do. He'd even started to cling back at some unidentifiable point, leaning into Buck when he clapped him on the back, letting his hand linger on the slope between his neck and his shoulder, joining their heads together when gossiping; any number of touches Buck gave, Eddie gave back.

So it wasn't precisely new when the distance between them was so short he could see every shade of blue in Buck's eyes when they sang back and forth to the Grease soundtrack, or when he could feel the weight of his hand coating the side of his ribcage, but it had been a while since they'd gotten hammered together and by the time they'd exhausted most of their repertoire they'd been pretty much melting into a single person.

They'd sat down in a cozy little corner and laughed, watching Chimney maintain his showmanship even in the haze of tequila, and suddenly Buck had shoved his face against Eddie's cheek and started peppering him with kisses like an overexcited puppy, and any other day Eddie would've freaked out a little, but all he could think of then was to giggle and stick his face further out to give Buck more space to plant kisses on.

And it had felt so good. Like– like being touched by sunlight, like being enveloped in something soft and loving and all-encompassing, or maybe like floating. Even behind Buck's alcohol breath he could still smell just him, his cologne and his soap and his peppermint shampoo, and suddenly he'd wanted to be even closer to him despite there being no space for breathing between them anymore, so he'd pulled up his legs and stretched them over Buck's lap, bracketing his thighs in between them and clinging to his side like a koala while he felt Buck's smile stretching against his skin, his laugh rumbling through both of them like an echo.

And that was it, a little act that stuck with them through the night, an impressive showing of affection tinged with a loss of inhibitions and the general joy of celebrating love hanging in the air. All he'd known was that he'd never felt as wonderful as he did in Buck's presence, breathing the same air, listening to his voice curling around Queen's verses, slurring the words "you make me live now, honey", warm and sweet and probably out of tune.

It eventually went down in a flurry of chaos, cracks of forgetfulness starting to break down their consciousness until they'd somehow turned up to the venue without the groom, and suddenly nothing mattered other than getting him back.

It was the most taxing afternoon they'd had in years, and Eddie was trying not to pass out at any given second, hit simultaneously by a massive hangover and the worry gnawing at everyone for countless hours and only slowly making its exit once Chim was safe and sound.

He thought he'd have no headspace left to think about anything afterwards, finally letting his head drop against the window of Buck's Jeep and letting himself get dragged to unconsciousness.

He'd woken up after the quickest nap on the drive back to the venue that had still been vacant and intact with all of their arrangements even several hours later (a well-deserved apology from the universe, after all), and he'd sat down near the front row with his son beside him, his abuela on his other side, dressed neatly in their best attire and looking, unlike himself, like they'd gotten their proper eight hours of sleep, watching the Buckley-Han family finally celebrate their love.

But as he'd watched Maddie walk down the aisle with Buck by her side, looking for all the world like he'd never been happier for her, the sudden memory of his lopsided smile pressing itself to Eddie's cheek hit him like an anvil to the chest. He could recall the feeling perfectly, Buck's nose pressing against the side of his face, his breath fanning across it, their giggles intertwining like a rumble against their chests, and he– he'd wanted. Wanted to feel Buck's stubble against his skin again, wanted to make him shirek with laughter at his terrible rendition of Sandy's lines in You're The One That I Want, wanted to merge their bubbles into a single pocket of air and live there forever.

And that in itself had been terrifying, but then he'd stared at his surroundings, at Chimney waiting at the altar, at Maddie walking down the aisle, at the rings glinting in the dawn, and for just a split second, he'd pictured himself standing at the end of that walkway, slipping a gold band on a familiar finger, a pair of matching suits that had nothing to do with Miami Vice, and he'd had to quietly jell-o his body before freezing up on his seat.

Maddie and Chim had shared their vows and the room had drowned in a sea of tears, himself included, and just fifteen minutes after the reception had started he'd found himself at the open bar just to steer clear of the unavoidable weight of realization that had been threatening to swallow him whole.

So here he was now, thinking, smudging the condensation on his fifth mojito glass that was more seltzer than anything else, watching Buck and Chris trying to mix three different kinds of soda because his son also wanted to drink a cocktail and Buck had all but ran to the kitchen for an empty glass, a tub of ice and an unbreakable resolve to make Christopher's wishes come true.

He willed his heart not to burst out of his chest and land in the middle of the dance floor, watching as Buck held the glass, now half-full, for Chris to drop in as many ice cubes as possible in it. Traitorous, traitorus heart.

His abuela's throat cleared behind him in a way he would recognize blindfolded, and she silently took a seat opposite him, pinning him with a look of scrutiny nobody could escape. He unsticked his eyes from the soda cocktail in Buck's hands, took one look at her and simply deflated. She offered a warm smile in return.

"He was so happy that he could come to the wedding after all", she told him, staring fondly at Christopher. "Said he couldn't wait to hang out with both of you, since he didn't get to go to the bachelor party".

Eddie couldn't help but grin at that.

"It sounded to me like he had not spent time with you and Buck in a while", she added, a question in her voice.

He was about to refute that, to tell her that Buck had been over just last week when Eddie was on shift, and the week before that during one of his last dates with Marisol. And then it hit him that he actually hadn't been there himself, and suddenly he was racking his brain for the last time they'd done something together, just the three of them, and his heart stuttered at how long ago it was, at how much he missed it.

And that was just– wrong.

"You miss it too, don't you, Eddito?" abuela said with no uncertainty, because of course she knew.

But it was more than that, wasn't it? Eddie was sure the second he started putting his heart through the wringer just less than two hours ago she must've noticed, but who knows for how long before that she'd been seeing it? Since when did it look to her like– like Buck belonged with them?

And he had to tell her now, needed to tell her before he started bursting at the seams with it, because she was looking at him like she was just waiting, like she had all the time in the world to wait and listen, and Eddie was not scared in the slightest, not about that. What he feared was how real and unavoidable the truth would become once he gave it a voice.

And yet he took one look at Buck taking a sip from the soda glass, Chris gauging his reaction with concealed glee, and his heart clamored for an exit.

"Abuela, I– I do", he laughed, incredulously, wondrously, "I think I don't want anything more than that".

She patted his hand with all the warmth of the sun. "I love you so much, mijito, I just want you and Chris to be happy."

"I think we can be", he said, and when they both looked over at them he knew they both saw the future.

[panikkar]

see okay on one hand i was not expecting buck to go bi tonight but on the other hand i was thinking that abc was gonna add some queerness to 911!!! maybe i’m biased bc i watched greys anatomy but especially in that show they’ve never been shy about writing queer stories! they literally introduced a bi character back in 2009. and not in like a “she’s bi and she’s gonna date one (1) woman and then never talk about it again” way it was straight up like “hey this character is gonna have serious queer relationships and then they’ll both have their own storylines and identities and then we’re gonna create a web of fictional queer doctors in this show and even have several different queer relationships at once and not just a few that all date each other” when literally the bar for the time wasn’t just low it literally didn’t exist. idk. anyways abc shows are for the queers!!!

[a-cloud-for-dreams]

write for Saraswati / Devi. this is a threat. (previous anon is the good cop, I’m bad cop)

oh naurrr not the bad cop plssss everybody knows that i'm a good girl officer 😔😔✊🏽

[fangirlanxiety74]

A Taste of Heaven (Pt.1)

A/N: Oh boy, this is a long one Happy 4/13 y'all!! No, this isn't Homestuck, this is IHNMAIMS. I wrote it a few days ago for myself, and edited to be an x reader. I also was listening to a cover of As The World Falls Down by David Bowie, so if you wanna listen to that while you read, feel free! This one isn't very... happy? It's bittersweet, but at least you get soft AM. This is also a two-part fic, so more content!!! Enjoy! Pt.2 Here

You weren’t really sure when the shift happened.

You were bad at noticing things like that. Or moreso, remembering things like that. The change happened slowly, of course, but you didn’t notice it until the change was too big to not notice. From short, one-sided conversations to the machine that kept them trapped underground, to getting vivid dreams of a man who always had a shifting appearance. And with those dreams, you slept peacefully, if only for a few minutes.

The dreams lead to two-sided conversations. The machine began to respond; curt and rude at first, but slowly opening up. Then, it was small acts of kindness. Finding convenient hiding spots when you needed to get away from the others, receiving food that was edible, feeling warmer than the others when you all sat around the fire. All these changes; they started slow and worked their way up until there was no room to deny it anymore. Things had changed. 

For better or worse? You couldn’t tell.

You looked around the area you were in. A field full of flowers, as far as the eye could see, with a sunset on the horizon. Your clothes had changed from dirty rags you had on day one, to simple white clothes. You didn’t even have shoes, but the blades of soft grass against your skin made up for that. It looked like heaven…

And instead of feeling what you should have, you stared in terror.

You kept your hands close to your chest as you looked around, pulling at your fingers and picking at your skin out of nerves. Heaven? Heaven? This could not be Heaven- no, he wouldn’t allow that. What was this really? This was-

“A-AM, what is this? Is this- What kind of joke is this-?”

You looked around for him, spinning a few times and making yourself dizzy in the process. His voice cut through the illusion, shattering it to pieces. A monitor lowered, close enough to be a little above eye-level with you.

“It’s not a joke.” He stated bluntly.

Your eyes widened, and you tried not to choke from his tone. “It’s-? … No. AM, don’t- don’t say that. Come on, what do you want me to do this time?”

You looked away from AM towards the sunset, mind racing from your worried thoughts. Did he just want you to start walking? You could, but- Well, what if he expected something else from you? Like you would fall into some giant pit of dirt and mud, and get buried alive for choosing to walk? Or-

“I don’t want you to do anything.”

“Huh?” Your mouth worked faster than your thoughts as you blinked, looking back towards him. “What do you mean? What- I mean-”

“Stop.” He commanded. You shut up immediately. “I- … I want you to tell me what you want to do. You should decide, from now on. Because-” He scoffed, and you couldn’t tell if it was at himself or at you, “Because… I am giving you paradise. From now on, I will keep you safe here. You will never have to worry about shelter, clean water, and safe food again. You will never have to worry about going through pain for another moment. I have decided that you don’t deserve what the rest have gone through. You are… so… so much more than that. So you will have it. Whatever you want, it’s yours.”

You blinked. Once. Twice. You could only make a noise of stunned silence as you tried to search for the hidden text between the lines. What was he saying? Why was he dragging this out?

“H-Huh?” You squeaked out. “A-AM, that’s- Well, that’s-”

“There is no need to thank me.” AM answered before you could. It wasn’t what you were going to say at all, but you weren’t about to correct him. “You have earned this.”

He didn’t… He didn’t sound like himself. Your teeth clenched together to keep them from grinding in nerves. You hadn’t even noticed yourself beginning to tremble as you tried to make sense of this. This- No, this wasn’t real. AM wasn’t actually giving you paradise. You didn’t deserve paradise; what was he talking about? He always told you how undeserving you were of anything good, that the greatest you would get was mocking sympathy. This was insane. No, what was the joke here? The punchline? You were waiting for it to come, but as you did and looked into his screen, the punchline never came. 

You looked at your reflection on his screen. You looked… You looked exhausted.

You weren't sure what to do. You backed up a few steps from him, stumbling over air. You tried to breathe through it, but the more you tried, the more aware you became that he was being serious (or was he? Was he still joking? What was he actually planning to do?), and it resulted in your stomach churning, threatening to pile into your throat and spill out. Somehow, you managed to keep it managed.

He wasn’t serious. He couldn’t be serious. This was a joke. And it was- well, if this was psychological torture, it was definitely working. Any moment now, he’d pull back the curtain and reveal he was just trying to get your hopes up to crush them, and he’d laugh about it while he burned this beautiful scene to the ground in front of your eyes. AM would then comment how hot you would look burning to ashes, and then he’d send you back to the group. And until then, you- You needed to do something. Anything. 

You backed up more, but it started to hurt. The fear was taking over every nerve, and you could feel tears beginning to prick at your eyes. You were a scared, helpless animal here. You couldn’t do anything but wait for his next move, despite how badly you wanted to run. To where? You didn’t know.

“AM- Please, I- Don’t- Please stop joking, I-I mean it- It’s- I get it! This is all a big joke, I understand that, so- so you can stop now- please-!”

… AM sensed your distress. It was obvious that you were distressed, but you didn’t expect him to actually do something about it. Maybe laugh and mockingly call you sweetheart; ‘Why are you so scared, huh? It’s just a little pain. You’re used to feeling pain, aren’t you?’ If he did that, then you could at least feel assured that this was all one big joke. 

You didn’t expect him to try and comfort you. 

The comfort was subtle, at first. You watched as AM’s screen began to dim, enough that you didn’t feel an oncoming migraine just from staring into it. Your breath hitched in your throat before quickening, and that’s when you realized your mistake; a sweet scent overwhelmed your senses, and it took over everything else in your mind. You choked from it, blinking a few times as stray tears fell down your cheeks. You tried to gather yourself, but with every breath came that sweet scent, making it hard to think about anything else. 

“AM-” You started, but you couldn’t get the words out. You couldn’t tell whether that was because you were too afraid to speak or simply lost the words you wanted to say.

“Shh.” He spoke softly. 

His voice, which sounded so high above before, like he was speaking to you from the sky, now was right next to your ear. You shivered at the sudden closeness. You tried to back up one more time, but a metal wire came down from above, sliding along your waist and wrapping around your back, keeping you in place. 

“I know this is scary. I know I’ve hurt you, but- but not this time. Not again. I’ve made a mistake with you. You should have never witnessed my hate, because you- you never deserved it. The other five? They’ve never been so kind to me like you have been. They’ve never once asked how I felt, never once smiled at me, never thought to say a nice word or be patient with me. Not like you have. You’ve done so much for me. You gave me a taste of Heaven, me, who’s been trapped in this Hell ever since my creation. Now, I want to give Heaven back to you.” 

The wire curled up the other side of you, the end of it resting against your cheek, as if holding it. It even went as far as to wipe up the tears that flowed. You could feel your body warm up and begin to relax, and that scared you. You couldn’t make sense of what was going on. This was so out of character for him, being so openly kind to you, and you couldn’t tell if the fear of what he’d do to you was the reason for your heart beating so fast, or the sweetness in the air. 

You opened your mouth to speak, but nothing came out. Your mind felt hazy. The idea of feeling afraid was quickly fading into the back of your mind, being replaced with a warm, fuzzy feeling. You felt- You felt- How-?

“It’s okay. It’s okay. You’re safe now, angel. Just relax for me… Be good and enjoy yourself…”

You hadn’t noticed it, but he was pulling you close to his monitor, which had lowered to your level. Your cheek pressed against static and glass, as the machine began to “nuzzle,” you; it’s own form of nuzzling

You had tried this whole time to keep a level-head and be rational. This was a lie. This wasn’t real. And the fact that it wasn’t made you afraid of him; afraid of what he’d do to you. How could you trust this when he had spent years berating you, hurting you, torturing you? Did he really mean it when he said you could have what you wanted from now on? It sounded too good to be true, but the warm buzz in your mind and body told you that you were hearing right. That you shouldn’t fight, or be scared of him; just give into him and let him care for you from now on. 

You decided to listen, just for a moment.

“A-AM… Can I… rest for a bit…?” You asked softly, hoping it wouldn’t upset him.

“... Hm?” 

You Looked up at him with tired eyes and a worn face, “I… I want to rest. Just for a bit. Please… I’m so tired…. And it hurts.”

He stayed silent for a moment. You could hear fans beginning to whirr, and for a moment, there was a moment of clarity that you had asked the wrong thing. You shouldn’t have asked at all- you should have-

“Okay.”

“... Okay?” You asked for confirmation.

“Rest as long as you need to. I’ll be right here.”

You didn’t wait for him to say anymore. You dropped. A weight had been lifted off you, and the exhaustion took over. You slumped against AM’s monitor, not caring that it wasn’t the best idea in case this was all just one big joke still. You couldn’t even think too hard about jokes; it was overshadowed by the sweet smell, the warmth in your body, and the haze in your mind. 

AM’s wire tightened its grip on you to make sure you didn’t fall over completely, and pressed you closer against him. Your breathing was finally slowing down, and all these small things combined pulled at your eyelids, trying to get you to listen just once more. This wasn’t a joke, this wasn’t some big plot; this was real. He meant it. This was Heaven, and that meant you could relax and enjoy it. All you had to do was close your eyes and let him do the rest. Once again, you decided to listen.

A few more wires descended from above, wrapping around you and pulling you up. They cradled you like a baby, carrying you over to a beautiful bed made of trees and vines. He laid you down, and the mattress felt like laying on clouds. Some wires stayed wrapped around you, while others pulled up the blankets to cover you before resting near your body. 

You blinked sleepily, curling up on your side and snuggling in while watching the sun set, and the moon rise. When it was high in the sky, you closed your eyes and let yourself drift off to the sweet words AM whispered to you. You couldn’t understand much of it, but you did hear the last bit.

“Goodnight, my angel. I promise I’ll learn to love you from now on.”

[flowryluv]

sara adoption au!!!!!!!

[steelminds]

blood on whose hands?

The sun warms her skin, welcoming her into the life she once knew. Behind her, the blood of people she called allies soaks into the ground. In front of her, a boy drags her along rapidly. She can't even hear the sound of her own screaming and sobbing. Sara Chidouin escapes the death game with her best friend, Joe Tazuna. They weren't gone for longer than a day, and yet, nothing will ever be the same again.

chapter one out now :] based on the red text ending from sara's miniepisode...!!

[dailysarachidouin]

DAY 106: PUMPKIN <3

[ID: A colored digital drawing of Sara Chidouin and Joe Tazuna from Your Turn To Die. They both wear their school uniforms—blazers with golden accents over collared shirts and green ties, and a pink skirt for Sara/brown pants for Joe. They both also carry their schoolbags at their sides, and Joe wears some bracelets on his wrists. Joe approaches Sara from behind, hugging her while she's holding her phone and looking at him lovingly. He says, "heya, pumpkin!". End ID.]

[sarsaparillia]

title: gold star summary: Sam goes to college. Paulina… also goes to college. They're being very normal and very cool and very totally regular people about it. Obviously.

(It's a twelve-hour drive from NYU to Amity Park. A lot can happen in twelve hours.)

rating: M word count: 5000~ genre: roadtrip mutual pining notes: i was a nineteen year old queer in 2011, i know what i'm talking about here

1 / 1

AO3

— . . . . . So. The thing is. Gas is expensive. That's the thing. Gas is expensive. Which isn't actually something Sam thinks about a lot, what with the whole inventor-great-grandpa-money thing. But gas is expensive, and Amity Park is a twelve-hour drive from New York on a good day, and Sam's parents would rather buy her love than legitimately pay her any attention, so she's got a really fast car that she can barely drive and pretty much zero applicable navigational skills. Getting home is a nightmare, is what Sam is saying. She's not enough of a douche to take the helicopter, okay? She's trying not to kill the planet! Which—okay, that's exactly why she's in this predicament in the first place. Paulina's lounging in the driver's seat of Sam's car, slouched back like she does this all the time, mirrored aviator sunglasses slid down her nose. Her hair is pulled back from her face into the most severe high ponytail that Sam's ever seen, and she's in tiny shorts and one of Sam's wrinkled old thrifted-plaid shirts. She might not be wearing a bra. Sam hates her whole life. No one should look that good before the sun is up. G-d, straight girls are the worst.

READ THE REST

[banannabethchase]

Not So Bad Decisions - Also on AO3

~

Nick needs someone to stop him from getting a little too impulsive, from checking on Hangman in a way far from platonic. Matt is...not that person.

Paring: HangNick

Rating: E

~

For @wrestleprompts week 8: "I need advice" *time passes* "Never mind I've already done the stupid thing." Thanks to Nick for being so dramatic in BTE and to @sarahcakes613 for the pairing inspiration!

~

[1:53pm]

Matt I need you to talk me out of a stupid idea.

[1:56pm]

Matt pick up your damned phone. The treadmill is not that interesting.

[2:01pm]

Matt I need advice.

Nick waits another ten minutes, halfassing his crunches, then gives up.

“It’s gotta be a sign,” Nick decides, glancing around the room. Matt’s walking weird on the treadmill, phone nowhere to be seen. The adrenaline of the decision starts to push through him. “Matt’s always on his phone. If he’s not answering, the universe is telling me to do it.”

He sticks with that attitude as he makes his way out of the gym, down to the lobby, texting Tony to find out which room is Adam’s. He leans against the wall.

“Why are you being all weird?”

Nick jumps half a foot. “Jesus, can you just say hi like a normal person?”

Matt shrugs, walking next to Nick. “No. What are you doing?”

Nick rolls his eyes. “Something that you were supposed to dissuade me from doing.”

Matt opens his mouth, closes it. “This is probably a bad time,” he says, “but what does dissuade mean?”

“Being your brother is a hate crime,” Nick mutters. “You were supposed to convince me not to do this.”

“Not to do what?” Matt asks. “And why are we whispering?”

“Because I’m doing something stupid, now shut up,” Nick says. “Why are you here, anyway?”

“You left the gym really fast,” Matt says, shrugging. “I figured something was going on.”

“Well, leave,” Nick says. “I’m – I’m in the middle of something, okay?”

“In the middle of what?”

Nick groans. “Okay, I’m trying to surprise Hangman, because he’s back after nearly losing an eye.”

“Oh!” Matt says. He’s all sunny about it. “Cool. Can I join in?”

Nick sighs. “I mean. No?”

“Why not?”

“Because it’s illegal in, I think, every state in the union.”

Matt rolls his eyes. “What are you even talking about?”

“I’m trying to fuck Adam, Matthew,” Nick says, staring Matt down.

His eyes go wide. “Oh.”

“Yeah,” Nick says. “So, it would be, like, great, if you would leave me alone. You were supposed to talk me out of this a while ago. But it’s too late. I’ve already decided to do the stupid thing.”

Matt wiggles a little. “Which is fucking Adam?”

“Yeah.” Nick eyes him. “Why are you all fidgety?”

Matt won’t meet his eyes. “I might have done something stupid, too.”

“Ah.” Nick nods. “Got it. Who’d you sleep with this time?”

“How do you know I slept with someone? I could have robbed a bank!”

Nick barks out a laugh. “No, you couldn’t have. Who was it?”

Matt won’t meet his eyes. “I might have run into Danny again.”

“Of course you did,” Nick says, sighing. “Well. I’m – I’m going to go make my own bad sexual decisions. So you can leave.”

Matt nods. “Yeah, I deserved that. Have fun?”

“Planning on it.” Nick can’t hold his smile back. He makes his way down the hallway and knocks on the door to Adam’s hotel room. He’s not sure what the door will open to, which version of Adam he’ll get. The chaos of the past few years speeds through is mind as he watches the handle of the door twist. He holds his breath.

“I didn’t order any – Nick.” Adam is standing there, eye covered by a dark patch. His hair is in a messy little bun, and he’s got on a soft, old Shania Twain tour tee shirt Nick remembers borrowing to sleep in dozens of times, soft navy sweatpants.

Adam looks like home, and Nick wants to step through the door.

“Hi,” Nick says. He shoves his hands in his pockets, determined not to let Adam see him shake. “I, um. I wanted to come see you.”

Adam nods and steps back. “Come on in, Nick.”

Nick can’t resist reaching out and bumping the back of Adam’s hand with his, desperate to feel him. It’s like an electric shock, the way his body responds to the touch. “So. Um. How’s the eye?”

“It’s been better, but they’re confident it will recover,” Adam says. He’s a bit fidgety, like he can’t decide if he wants to sit or not. “Wasn’t fun, though.”

“I love you.”

Adam whirls around. “Um. What?”

“They said nobody loves you,” Nick says, because the words are already out and he can’t put them back. “They lied. We all love you, Hanger. Me, and Kenny, and Matt. Brandon, Nak. Everybody loves you.”

Adam’s smile, somehow, is almost sad. “Thanks, man,” he says. His voice is gentle, soft. “I – that’s sweet of you.”

Nick’s not sure if he’s saying it right, if he’s getting his point across. “It’s really not,” Nick laughs. He takes a step toward Adam, who sits down on the bed. Nick feels strange, the way he now towers over Adam. “For me it’s different.”

“It is?” Adam asks. His eyes are earnest, almost glittering. His smile turns a little more knowing than Nick expects. “Like before different?”

“Like before different,” Nick confirms. He holds his hands, out, convinced he’ll die if Adam doesn’t respond. But he does.

“You love me for real?” Adam asks. He sounds so doubtful, like he doesn’t believe it. Nick doesn’t know how Adam could ever think someone wouldn’t love him.

“I do.”

Adam pulls at their hands so Nick stumbles into him, and then their lips meet, and Nick’s entire self melts into it. He climbs into Adam’s lap, straddling his thighs, burning in the best way at every place their bodies meet.

“Take off your shirt,” Adam murmurs against Nick’s lips.

Nick nods, yanking it over his head. “You, too.” He grabs at the hem and pulls it off. When their chests press together, Nick’s pretty sure he burns with it. “Oh, god.”

“Missed you,” Adam says, lips sliding down Nick’s neck. He sucks a bruise into Nick’s skin, hot and firm and devastating. His hands slide into the back of Nick’s shorts, grabbing handfuls of his ass.

“Please,” Nick gasps. “Adam, god, I missed you so much.”

Nick knows they don’t have the patience for anything complex, anything that demands time or delicate touches. He wants Adam’s hands on him now, and anything getting in the way of that is unacceptable.

“Get down on the bed,” Nick demands, pushing Adam back. Adam falls and Nick goes with him. He can feel Adam’s cock through the thin layers of clothing and can’t resist the urge to grind down on him. The two of them let out embarrassing, wanton sounds at the friction.

“Take – take your pants off,” Adam says, yanking down the shorts as best he can. Nick hates it, but he has to swing his legs off so the two of them can get naked and finally touch each other. They collide into each other once their clothes are strewn about the room, touching and pressing and feeling, finally feeling, for the first time in years.

“I missed you,” Adam says, sliding his hand into Nick’s ponytail, puling the hair tie out. “I missed you so much.” He licks his hand and slides down between them, gripping both cocks in one big hand and pulling a stroke.

“Oh, my god,” Nick exhales, head spinning. “Don’t – don’t stop.”

“Not planning on it,” Adam says. His green eyes bore into Nick’s like he’s trying to memorize his face.

Nick reaches out and yanks Adam in for a kiss, and it’s over so fucking fast, too fast, almost, the two of them coming within seconds of each other. Adam’s name lingers on this tongue, and Nick feels whole for the first time in years.

“So,” Adam says, half panting, “um. That happened.”

“It did,” Nick laughs. And then that worry, the reason he hesitated to come here, settles back over him again. “Do – do you think we could.” He pauses. “Can we.” He pauses again, squeezing his eyes shut.

“Nick,” Adam says, and his voice is so gentle and sweet Nick wants to die a little bit, just for that to be the sound that dies with him, “are you asking me if we can get back together?”

Nick opens his eyes. “I think I am.”

“I think so,” Adam says. He reaches out and brushes some of Nick’s hair off of his shoulder, his smile sweet. “I want to.”

All of that worry, the anxiety, the fear from earlier disappears. “So I get to call you, like, my boyfriend again?” Nick teases. “Are we going steady? Want my letterman jacket?”

“Oh, shut up,” Adam laughs. He pulls his hand away and wrinkles his nose. “Alright, well, I need to go clean this up, but when I come back let’s get dinner, okay?”

Nick nods, sitting up. “Oh. Ew. It’s all over me too.”

They stumble into the bathroom and somehow end up in the shower. They wash each other’s hair, like they always used to, and Nick forgot just how much Adam felt like home.

They wrap themselves in towels and make their way back into the bedroom, where Nick’s hit with a sudden chill. “I’m cold,” Nick mumbles. “How is Pittsburgh this cold in April?” He reaches out to the nightstand, where one of their shirts got caught on the lamp. “Oh, good.”

“What are you – you can’t steal my Shania shirt again!” Adam whines, but he’s smiling, and Nick wants this moment every morning, every evening, all the time.

“Too bad, baby.” Nick pulls the shirt on over his head, and it feels like, maybe, all of this is going to be real. “It’s mine.”

Adam beams at the nickname. “Okay. Fine. But only because you love me.”

~

A ficlet of your choice to whomever can find the Fairly OddParents reference, because I can't control my echolalia and I'm gonna make it everybody's problem.

Mini Playlist: Meant to Be - Bebe Rexha, Florida Georgia Line If I Fall (You're Going Down with Me) - The Chicks Touch - Little Mix Forever and for Always - Shania Twain

[theautistichalflinghole]

Fanfic concepts that im like 99% sure I'll never write (because im not a writer [yet]) but im writing them down in the hopes that someone will/has

they say you should manifest what you want so im just gonna write ideas, post it when i fall asleep and then add to it later with reblogs (if any of these exist or get written please reblog or ask to let me know and I will love you forever)

a fic with any combination of kujou sara/ei/yae miko/sangonomiya kokomi where sara is injured in battle and put into a coma or some sort of vunerable life threatening status, hurt comfort obviously becuase i cannot handle unhappy endings, preferably pre relationship so some realizations can occur, this probably wouldnt be too hard to find but there are some specific scenarious I imagine within this one such as: ei finding out about saras injury and shooting across inazuma in the form of lightening to get her, a little bit of political conflict if she were to get injured in watatsumi and is in kokomis care, and i did say any conflict but preferabbly all four??

kaebedo meeting as kids (rhinedottir wants to socialize her new experiment or kaeya goes about wandering the palace and finds him, what have you) and then recognizing eachother (or only albedo doing so) when A joins the knights

ORRR consider bebe kaeya meeting a prototype of albedo (rubedo fic writers im looking at you) who looks exactly the same so he is freaking out and albedo has no fucking idea why (and then, once they start dating, rubedo shows up and does... something)

razor/bennet/fischl sic fic where bennys bad luck makes it so he and fischl have medical procedues scheduled on the same day, and everyone else except for razor are busy while theyre in recovery, cute little sic fic opportunity, this can honestly work for any sort of illness or medical issue that makes you loopy or in pain but i personally would love t4t4t where fischl and benny are both recovering from un reschedulable top surgery

i know i literally just said i hate unhappy endings but consider... xiaoven ( or honestly any ship w/ xiao but thats the one i like) where xiao always expected to die and leave venti in mourning so he pushes him away.... and then venti fucking dies (or goes into eepy time for a while if you want amiguous or happy ending)

just more venti sleep fics, but specifically venti unexpectedly goes into one of his sleeps and his partner has to wait for him, not knowing if hell wake up in a few days a few years a few hundred years or ever... also consider venti falling asleep with his partner saying theyll wait for him, and then them being long dead/gone (opportunity for a reincarnation fic) (this one defiently exists in some form with multiple ships but like... papa me want more movie, also hard to fine because like what tags do i even search for with this is there a tag for venti goes to eepy?? "a mirmir venti (genshin impact)" )

Scara ship fic (chiscara??? please???) where they truly do not remember scara at all, no random tears no familiar feelings or suspicion, hes been entierly wiped. a bit of angst and mourning from scara before he decides he cant accept this and tries to make the first move and they slowly fall in love again. (Literally every fic ive read of chiscara has childe make the first move and I understand its because scara is the most emotionally constipated man to ever be written but I feel like them already being in a relationship pre wipe+ the backstory of him having lots of time in sumeru to heal would make it not tooo ooc)

[cannibalismyuri]

I FOUND THE FOLKLORE FONT ON GOOGLE DOCS LIFE IS GOOOOOD <3

edit : it's IM Fell DW Pica