#soooo it’s on ao3 now

[valerie4ever]

Chapters: 1/? Fandom: Top Gun (Movies) Rating: General Audiences Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings Relationships: Tom "Iceman" Kazansky/Pete "Maverick" Mitchell Characters: Pete "Maverick" Mitchell, Nick "Goose" Bradshaw, Tom "Iceman" Kazansky, Charlotte "Charlie" Blackwood Additional Tags: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Slow Burn, Character Study, Angst, Set Seven Years After the Events of Top Gun Summary:

He went to bed as “Maverick” and woke up as “Pete”. Pete, who never made it into the Navy. Pete, who was only “Maverick” to Tom Kazansky now.

Or: It’s not what he is and now it’s not even who he is

IT’S HEREEEEE I FINISHED CHAPTER ONE

[introspectivememories]

was it casual when i sat in your lap in public? was it casual when i said "recently my heart is crying because you're leaving"? was it casual when we decided how your last name would fit with mine? ("yuki tsunoda-gasly" / "no tsunoda, only gasly" / "yuki gasly?") was it casual when we sang adele's "someone like you" together at your going away party? was it casual when i knew it was you just by touching your ass? was it casual when i knew it was you by smell alone? was it casual when "will you miss me?" / "for 2-3 minutes maybe" / "i'll take that. even if it's just 2-3 minutes, i'll take that"? was it casual when that bus was completely empty and we still sat right next to each other, all the way in the back? was it casual when i picked you up multiple times so you could dunk a basketball? was it casual when i begged to come over to your house multiple time and then you finally let me and we cooked fried rice together? was it casual when we played christmas twister together and i said "your big eggplant is touching my ass"? was it casual when we were pressed up against each other on a scooter going two miles per hour? was it casual when-

[fanfic-gremlin-ft-trauma]

a little wip for u guys cuz i’m gonna be busy this week <3 (also @bisexuallsokka , you know what this is for)

ft. bonus sketchy panic

[erinwantstowrite]

ERINN!!! i saw that tag! i knew itsy bitsy wasn't going to be just a one shot its just too intresting. im calling it you are gonna give in and make it longer.

(also HAPPY BIRTHDAYY!!! 🎉🎂)

y'all know me too well (i started an outline and realized it IS gonna end up multiple chapters, since my idea of a oneshot is 20k)

((i have Can't Shut Up disease))

[ohmytiredheart]

It's uncanny how much the FNAF lore actually makes sense if you look at it through the eyes of TMA

[insomnya777]

btw guys boat boys have got me in their clutches again so perhaps expect a new fic

[laesas]

RamKing + Venus Flytrap || by kinnbig

[carmendeiact2whenplz]

Silly little Nameless Bard Gets Adopted fanfic

Finally decided to write the story i’ve had in my head for months. Takes *heavy* inspiration from the Found Family Deca au, developed over time via various snippets and fanarts from @decarabiandivorce and @arson-n-quwubilder, but i’ve had this idea since before then. This is my first time writing a fanfic in over a year, feel free to comment on any inconsistencies/grammar/spelling issues.

General summary- Nb breaks into the tower with wispti’s help in order to steal some intel, gets caught, and ends up getting Surprise Adopted by Decarabian. That’s it that’s the plot

Word count- ~2.5k

Things were not going as planned. If anything, they were as far from it as possible.

The plan was simple, really- Venti just had to teleport him inside the tower so he could get some intel, or at least observe the interior so he would remember it for future plans, and then the wisp would teleport itself and the bard back out, relaying any information acquired to the rebels.

But as the bard first arrived inside the tower, he felt something was off. His dearest friend didn’t have as bright a glow as it normally did, and it might have just been a trick of the unfamiliar surroundings but it almost appeared.. smaller? The rebel brushed it off, momentarily forgetting about that as he tried to find the information he was looking for.

He stumbled upon a small room filled with books on various topics, many of them useless to him, a quick scan of a fee of the pages proving their topic to be neither beneficial to the mission or to his own personal interest (but of course, if these books were available someplace more easily accessible he would have loved to read them regardless, since new information was new information), but in addition to some maps and notes he found giving some information about the tower interior, the maintenance of the storm wall, and where guards were stationed throughout the city, he also stumbled upon a few books about the outside world! He didn’t have time to properly read them, but he had to take a few glances. Stars, sunrises and sunsets, mountains and deserts, many kinds of animals and plants, including the birds he loved to sing about… all kinds of things he thought were just things made up in stories, they were not only real, but some of those could have been seen if he were to make it outside of the wall surrounding the city! Determination surged through him, looking forward to the day where Decarabian would be slain and he could finally see the skies free of the constant clouds ominously looming over them. 

The bard motioned to Venti to teleport the two of them out, when the news hit him. The wisp told him that it overestimated its strength and getting them both in had used up most of its energy, making it impossible for the two of them to safely get out at the moment. The bard telepathically cursed at it, seconds before realizing that a few guards had spotted the two of them. He asked his friend if he could at least teleport the books over, to share some of the things he found with the other rebels, but the wisp shook its head and told him that carrying any additional weight wouldn’t be feasible, and could only transport itself and relay the situation the bard was in. With no other option, the wisp teleported away, and the bard formulated a new plan.

Drop the intel and make a run for it.

Right before he accidentally ran straight into one of the guards. Stumbling back, he took a few seconds to stabilize himself. Which wasn't necessary, as two more guards grabbed his arms on both sides, easily restraining him in place. They were about to drag him towards the lower levels of the tower, where he knew the jail cells were located (from prior experience), before one of them glanced towards the bright red ribbon and the white flower on his cape, their eyes widening. They said something about how “their Lord would be happy to see him”, explaining to the other guards how his hair and clothing matched the one shown on the wanted posters, the bard starting to swear as he listened to them converse, the realization hitting him hard. They knew who he was. The guards nodded in comprehension and dragged him in the other direction, towards the upper levels of the tower. The throne room, the bard registered, fear truly setting in for the first time since arriving in the tower.

—---

Which is how the bard ended up in his current situation. He was in Decarabian’s throne room, guards holding him in place, and the only way out was blocked by more guards. Great. At least Venti finally returned, but in a much worse state than before, its glow being all but nonexistent, and it was barely half the size as it was before getting them both inside the tower. 

He took a moment to observe the space around him- the space was large and circular, and was easily the fanciest room he had ever been in. Intricate patterns were carved into the walls and ceiling, with evenly spaced archways separated by pillars lining the walls. There was a large stained glass window inside each archway, casting colorful lights across the floor- which was interesting, because there were no visible windows from an outside view of the tower, and the sky outside wasn’t bright enough (it was still late afternoon, but the clouds were particularly dark that day) for much light to shine through regardless. Even so, most of the room was lit by ornate chandeliers and candelabras, casting the room in an orange glow that starkly contrasted with the dark blue stone that made up many of the things in the room. A long carpet with dizzying patterns led up to a raised platform supporting a large, equally ornate throne that the bard guessed had to be made of solid gold. Sitting upon it was Decarabian himself, his golden crown resting upon his head like a halo. 

“Guards, why have you brought this person here to me?” The king asked, and the bard could tell he almost sounded tired, like he wasn’t in the mood to deal with this (and neither was the bard, for that matter.) The guard standing to the right of the bard kneeled, still tightly gripping his shoulder, and answered.

“Your Highness, we have successfully captured the leader of the rebellion against you.” The guard to his left strengthened their grip as a bead of sweat formed on the rebel’s forehead. He had wanted to approach Decarabian personally, but not like this. He didn’t have any other rebellion members to help him out here, his beloved wisp had none of its powers working, he had no escape plan, no weapons… 

Wait.

He suddenly remembered the small knife he kept in his pocket in case of emergencies. He tried to reach for it, when a voice interrupted him- “Are you sure you have the right person this time? This is the third time you’ve brought someone to me claiming they’re the leader of the rebellion!” Oh? This was a new piece of information for the rebel. Curiosity overtook his fear as he was intrigued by how this conversation would go. He moved his hand back upwards, hoping the guards didn’t notice, waiting for them to reply.

“But- but my lord! He perfectly matches the description of the wanted poster! Black hair, blue eyes, wears a cape-” Even from across the room the bard could hear Decarabian’s sigh. Looking closer at him, he, too, had black hair, blue eyes, and a long cape. “-Not to mention the windblume pinned to his chest, that scarf tucked around his cloak, and even that… creature he keeps around with him all that time.” The way the guard said that last part with so much disgust made his blood boil.

“Hey! That is a wind sprite, mind you! How dare you speak about my best friend like that!” The bard retaliated, but the guards seemed to be unaffected.

“He’s right, that is, in fact a wind sprite, but it seems to be in critical condition. That being said-” the king glanced at the guards with a scowl on his face. Truth be told, the bard wondered if he would smite them right then and there. “-That is not a rebellion leader. That is a child. Put him back.”

The guard (at this point, the bard realized that only one of the guards surrounding him genuinely cared about the situation, none of the others had bothered to speak yet,) gasped in outrage (and the rebel wanted to do the same, sure he wasn’t an adult yet and others have told him he looked young for his age but he was legally allowed to drink for crying out loud!) “Your majesty, surely you must be feigning ignorance? Yes he may look young, but there is clearly undeniable evidence that this bard here is the one that started all of this! Please, you have to believe me!” Did that one guard really want him punished that badly? Most of Decarabian’s guards and soldiers he had encountered so far were only following orders, and with enough luck could be persuaded into leaving the bard alone (and in rare cases, even switching sides and joining the rebellion instead), but this one in particular seemed to genuinely like Decarabian as a ruler.

The god spoke again, this time directed specifically towards the rebel. “Tell me, where are your parents?” The question came out of nowhere, taking the bard by surprise as thoughts coalesced in his mind. Why did he ask that? What did he hope to achieve by that? Where in Teyvat was this conversation going? And most importantly, how was he still alive? He allowed confusion to slip on his face, before returning to practiced neutrality. As for the question though.. The rebel’s biological parents were killed by soldiers when he was but a toddler, leaving him to fend for himself for most of his life. Although he did secretly see Amos and the Warrior as his parental guardians of sorts, there was nothing official about the whole ordeal, and even so, admitting that two of the people who helped take care of him were the god’s ex wife and former royal guard respectively wouldn’t turn out very well for him.

“I don’t have any parents,” the bard replied, using his skills as a bard to exaggerate himself, “My parents abandoned me when I was a baby and have spent my whole life living on the streets, relying on scraps of food to sustain myself.” He did live a (slightly) more comfortable life than that, but he hoped his sob story would at least make the god feel some sympathy for him.

“Interesting. Now tell me- how did you even get inside the tower in the first place?” At this the rebel got nervous again, because he knew there was no reasonable answer he could give. The tower was surrounded by a wind wall, far smaller but comparable in shape and intensity to the one that surrounded the whole city, and the only entrance was heavily guarded at all times. Even if he could make up some excuse, the guards undeniably saw him trying to steal things, so they knew he had at least some incentive of being in the tower. He was about to try to say something, spit out the first words that came to mind or try to downplay his crimes when his thoughts were interrupted.

“-That doesn’t matter. I wonder, what was your name again?” The god asked in a tone that was unexpectedly calm. He would have made up another story, pretended his lack of a name was a result of his upbringing (partially true, but it was really a deliberate choice by him), but he quickly remembered that he knew the guards knew the rebel leader as the Nameless Bard. So he did something he swore never to do- give himself a name. He took a few moments to think, then remembered how much he liked those white flowers that grew nearly everywhere in Mondstadt.

“My name is Cecil,” the bard replied, feigning confidence. If anything, he hoped he could at least throw the guards off track. Noticing the surprised expressions on their faces, it seemed to have worked.

“In that case, Cecil, I hereby declare you..” the room went silent, and fear once again overtook the bard. Was the king going to finally arrest him? Send him to the prisons for the rest of his life, strike him down here and now, execute him in public? Or gods forbid, a fate worse than that? His heartbeat thundered in his chest, hoping that no one else could hear it.

“..Adopted. You are my son now.” Cecil froze. He did not just adopt him… right? Surely this was all a cruel prank. Perhaps he was dreaming? Yes, that must have been the case, right? He procrastinated the mission for a day and was just having a nightmare about the worst-case scenarios, so his mind could better prepare for the day ahead. But then he pinched himself, and sighed in disappointment.

One of the guards glanced at Decarabian, somehow more shocked than the bard was. “My Lord, no offense, but you can’t just do that! That’s not how it works!” In turn, the god stared at him, his gaze as piercing as the winds he commanded.

“Who’s going to stop me?” 

Cecil wanted to protest that, but closed his mouth before any words came out. Even if he wanted to, it’s not like he could stop him yet. He watched as the king got off his throne and headed towards the exit, noticing how instead of walking he hovered a few inches off the ground. The guards guarding the door opened them for him, and the bard couldn’t help but cringe internally when the doors slightly scraped against the ground. But as he was halfway out the door, he turned around, once again glaring at the guards with that same piercing gaze. “Guards, I am going to prepare some things for my new son, in the meanwhile please ask the chefs to treat him to some nice meals. If at any point along the way you dare to hurt him-” his eyes glowed a shade of teal comparable to Venti’s markings, and Cecil could feel the wind blowing on his face from here, “-I will not show you mercy.” And with that, the god exited the room.

The guards looked at eachother, then back to Cecil, as they let go of him and gestured for him to get out of the room. The rebel was terrified of what was to come next, but he realized he could use this as an opportunity to get much more information about Decarabian than he originally intended. He had no idea what the god was planning or why he was doing this, any of this, but he had to take whatever he could get if he was going to end his reign once and for all. He sighed, pondering his first plans of action as he stepped out of the room and into his new life.

[clowningaroundmars]

i know this has probably been said a million times already before but it really strikes me how asexual hannibal is as a show overall now that i'm on my 4th rewatch

hannibal himself doesn't ever seem to lust after anyone in any way aside from will (and their love for each other is far from the typical amatonormative conventions society likes to impose on ppl)

we only see hannibal have sex with one person and it's only as a means to an end

hannibal clearly favors platonic connections over sexual and romantic ones, or at least shows his attraction in... very different ways than what's considered "normal", but his insistence that will is his friend despite stating multiple times that he loves him is very telling

and in the first few eps, jack asks will why the minnesota shrike would target young brunette girls. he throws out theories and suggests sexual motives, maybe? but there were no traces of semen on the body anywhere and then that's when will EXPLODES and firmly shuts the theory down by stating "no, he wouldn't disrespect her like that!"

will actually got to live the "normal" married life with a wife and a kid for 3 years but that was simply not enough. at the 1st chance he got, he freed hannibal from prison and then hopped on a boat to see him in italy

mads himself (in an interview that i forgot the origins of LOL sorry) said will and hannibal most likely would never let their relationship "become physical"

their love and connection and yearning are SO DEEP that it defies typical parameters of relationships not just bc they're gay, but bc their love transcends any need for the dog and pony show that romance and sex often demands. they literally don't even need to have sex to deepen their relationship

in hannibal's words: "the very sight of you nourishes me"

[kavvueh]

AO3 WRAPPED!!!

Now tell me why the longest fic I read is xvn but the ONLY ships that show up on my wrapped are hkv???? skewed!!!!!!!!11111

this was fun to see though lol. (You can do it through here!)

[sheikahwarriork]

prompt for childhood enemies dimileth!!!

When Byleth was 6 years old, and Jeralt left her in the care of an inkeeper while he was doing merc jobs, a traveling caravan of rich people arrived to the inn, and she heard an ugly rich bowlcut blonde baby say his dad was the strongest and could beat anybody's dad and she choose violence.

Someone had to put the bowlcut in his place and make him understand Jeralt was the strongest.

Dimitri didn't want to fight back for his crest until Byleth called him a wussy... which is a word the mercs used around her and she didn't know what it meant.

(she fondly recalls this story as the first time she won a fight)

(dimitri still has bite scars from the incident and was very scared of girls for a long time)

(gustave was worried sick a commoner kid got the crown prince rabbies)

(they haven't connected the dots)

(This is the same anon who hates Dimitri's hair)

(hello dear dimitri's hair hater anon, i loved this prompt a lot! i changed some little points in the narration, but the main plotis the one you wrote. i really hope you'll like this :3)

wordcount: 1.2k

Byleth was extremely bored. Jeralt— no, he said to call him dad— Dad ­­went to do some cool mercenary stuff he said were 'too dangerous' for Byleth to attend. How silly! She was perfectly capable of taking care of enemies. She had the best teacher in the world, after all; the Blade Breaker’s abilities were well known along all Fodlan.

Of course, she was still only six, while her father was… How many years old was Jeralt again? She realised she didn’t know exactly. Probably the same age all dads were. Like three-hundred years old or something like that.

Byleth frowned. Did she need to wait three-hundred years to become as powerful as Jeralt? No, it was too far away from now! The little girl stood up. She needed to go training now.

She went out the little inn where Jeralt— Dad left her some days ago, heading for that nice spot she found out the day before to train with her new super powerful sword. (Well, wood sword. After the last time Byleth tried to train by herself, she almost chopped her own leg, so Jeralt took precautions by giving her a weapon that 'woudn’t hurt his precious little girl'. How melodramatic! But he chose it precisely for her. It was special. She wasn’t gonna break it!)

Her wandering gaze stopped when she noticed some people a few meters from her. She frowned. A tall guy with dark hair and a younger blonde boy with an ugly bowlcut were talking under a tree, the very tree of her perfect nice training spot.

She frowned again. As people said, Byleth wasn’t… the best at social interactions. She didn’t like talking to people, especially strangers. And she hated when she had to. Like this moment. She needed those two to get out of her new special training spot. She needed to train! To become more powerful! Like, right now!

The urge to train was bigger than her despise for talking to strangers, so she got closer to the tree, holding hard her sword. Byleth repeated in her mind Jeralt— Dad’s lessons about how ‘not to be too scary with other people’. She had to act nice.

“Hi. Get out of my training spot”.

A greeting! Super nice. ‘Good job, me’, she thought, pleased with herself.

The taller boy looked at her with surprise, but his expression quickly changed in a smile. “Hello, you fellow warrior”, he said in a condescending tone, winking.

Ugh. That was one of the thing Byleth hated the most: grown-ups treating her like she was just a little child!

“Get out, I said! I need to train”, she said, pointing at her sword.

Bowlcut boy frowned. “But you’re too young to train by your own!”

“What?!” Byleth exclaimed to him, annoyed.

“Yes! My dad says children shouldn’t fight until they grow up. And you look almost my age! So, you can’t train”, Bowlcut boy explained, nodding.

Byleth crossed her arms. “It doesn’t make sense! My dad helps me train since I was… younger than you!”

Bowlcut boy looked troubled. “Why does you dad train you?”

“Because I want to become strong, and he’s the strongest mercenary of all Fodlan!”, Byleth said with a hint of pride.

Now Bowlcut boy looked annoyed. “That’s not true! My dad is the strongest one! Glenn, tell her!” he added, looking at the taller annoying guy.

Tall-annoying guy was watching at them holding a hand over his mouth as if he wanted to hide it, slightly shaking. Then he proceeded to burst into laughter, hitting the ground with his fist, without saying a thing.

Byleth frowned. What a weird guy.

Bowlcut boy frowned too, but apparently he decided to let the matter drop, as he looked at Byleth again. “My dad is stronger! He has big muscles, and he’s the only one that can use a super uper big powerful spear!” Then he looked down at Tall-annoying guy, who was still on the floor. “Glenn! Tell her!”

The guy tried to stop laughing, but miserably failed. “So… sorry, Dimitri… you’ll have to… deal with her yourself… PUAHAHAHAHAHAHA!”

Byleth crossed her arms; then, she got an idea. “Let’s settle this with a fight. However wins, has the strongest dad!”

Bowlcut boy’s eyes widened. “N… no! I can’t! I’ll hurt you!”

Byleth was really annoyed now: how dared that little brat imply he could beat her?!

She lifted her sword, pointing at Bowlcut boy. “Prepare yourself!”

“Oh, fuck!” Tall-annoying guy stopped laughing and stood up between them. “Ok, party’s over. Let’s try to get along, shall we?”

Bowlcut boy sighed in relief. Byleth sticked her tongue out, looking at him. “Your dad’s just a… wussy!”

Byleth really liked the word ‘wussy’. The way it sounded was funny. She didn’t exactly know the meaning, but Jeralt’s mercenaries often used it when someone was arguing (usually when drinking that weird ‘grown-ups fruit juice’) with some other of the band, getting the latter very angry. And Byleth wanted to make Bowlcut boy angry.

And she succeded! Bowlcut boy’s eyes widened, and he proceeded to run towards her. Byleth was ready, and promptly dodged the boy. She grabbed his arm, and sinked her teeth in it.

The boy screamed in pain until Tall-annoying boy managed to pull him away. “Shit shit shit! What the hell is wrong with you two?!” he said in a high-pitched tone. Bowlcut boy started crying.

‘Pathetic’, Byleth thought.

“Okay, little girl, we’re leaving, but promise me you’ll stay away from Dimitri!” Tall-annoying guy said, while taking Bowlcut boy in his arms. “We’re leaving soon anyway, so forget about this and do not tell anyone!” he added, going inside the inn, without waiting for Byleth to respond. “Shit! I did tell Gustave I’m not a good babysitter…” she heard him muttering, while Bowlcut boy was still crying.

She looked at the now closed door for a few seconds more, then turned around. “Okay. Melee training for day: done. I should practice with my sword now…”

“You did what?!” Jeralt—Dad screamed in shock.

Byleth crossed her arms. “I bit him, I told you! He was saying some crap about you!”

Dad looked at her in disbelief, and then bursted into laughter.

‘Why is everyone laughing at me today?!’

“You… you bit him… you bit the… freaking… AHAHAHAHAHA!” Dad was laughing so hard he didn’t finish the phrase.

Byleth shrugged, deciding to let him be. ‘It’s not like I’m gonna ever see Bowlcut boy again…’

15 years later

Byleth didn’t know if she was getting better at reading people, or if Jeralt was acting strange more than usual. Since she told him she chose to lead the Blue Lion House, her father started to make a soft giggle everytime she mentioned the house-leader, Dimitri. It was getting annoying.

“Are you going to tell me why do you make that sound everytime I mention Dimitri, dad?!” she finally said one afternoon, while her and Jeralt were having tea in her room.

Jeralt smiled. “Ah! Never. But maybe, you’ll have your answer if you’ll ever see his arm… Summer is starting, after all…”

[sergeantjessi]

started watching a show just to see an actor, expected to skip every scene/episode the actor isn't in, but halfway through the first episode i realise... i'm already invested.

fUCK

[hatkuu]

so like if you have a baby bailey tries to take them to the orphanage no matter what right? what do you think kylar is gonna do. how will he react when you have his baby and bailey tries to take it

screeches at the top of his lungs if he's there to see it. you know this man is holding your hand while you give birth (he definitely cries with you, does not look at the doctor when they're speaking to him, he's waaaayy too focused on you because this might just be the most important thing that has ever happened in his life.) so when that cranky old asshole snatches your baby from you he's fighting like a rabid dog—gets even worse if you try to soothe him or assure him that bailey means well—your precious baby shouldn't be tainted by the hands of that asshole!

idk. i really hope vrel can let the baby stay in kylar's manor like with alex on the farm. like. surely kylar's parents would love their first grandchild... lotta potential for an event where pc catches one of kylar's parents looming over the side of the manger cooing at their grandchild. like. CMON!!!! make the monster parents loveable pls. i want them to like me :( pls guys i literally want to marry your son :( pls like me even a little bit

but yeah. kylar would be furious. idk if he'd pull a knife in a hospital though, probably didn't bring it with him because even though he knows the doctor is just doing their job he does get a little jealous at their position between your thighs... yeah. he's THAT cringe.

[chirpsythismorning]

There’s only one thing worse than the byler tag on Tumblr being dead: the byler tag on Ao3 being dead.

[ssreeder]

he… he was born to be a hero and became a villain… he was born to be a villain and became a hero… no one asked them what they wanted… they don’t even know what they want they don’t even know who they ARE…. they bring out the worst in each other…. they can only be honest with each other and they hate it love it hate it destroy it in the end…. they ruin each others lives…. they don’t regret each other…. if you even care…. I’m gonna apass out

[unfortunate--moth]

Reverse 1999 really, truly, and spiritually is... The Yuri Game.