#still angry that someone came into one of my fics where I noted my working with 10 and Rose were a random number deal

[nvzwho]

One person's 'Iconic Ships' will be someone else's eternally blocked tag. I am cursed with doing this in multiple fandoms to have me beloathed ship be the biggest ship in the damn thing. It's not just a Doctor Who thing but they are generally the worst at tagging stuff, so the Curse is Worse there in a way.

[theghostofsoap]

No Force on this Earth (Could Keep Me From You)

Fandom: Call of Duty x Star Wars

Pairings: Simon "Ghost" Riley/John "Soap" MacTavish

Rating: Teen +

Tags: implied torture, force bonds, blood mention, angst, hurt/comfort

Notes: this fic was massively inspired by @felixeis003 and some lovely CoD x Star Wars art they did of Ghost and Soap <33 it truly got the hamster wheel in my mind going

(Check out the art here!!!)

Also now on Ao3!

Soap wasn't sure how long he'd been here. He and Gaz had been together on assignment to investigate a moon where a particularly strong force signature had pinged recently. There was suspicion that a Sith artifact was located there and they wanted to make sure it didn't fall into the wrong hands.

Unfortunately, the entire thing had been a trap. He was pretty sure Gaz had managed to make it out when he'd dove into a swarm of droids. The last thing he remembered was seeing the familiar face of Count Dooku before falling unconscious.

Ever since then, he'd been kept in a cell. A few times he'd been poked and prodded. He wasn't sure what they wanted with him, but the combination of minimal food and the Force suppression collar around his neck was making the time tick by like molasses. Most of the time he meditated while trying to overhear any speck of information that he could, which wasn't much.

The sheer emptiness of it all was almost worse. Maybe they were trying to drive him mad with silence and isolation.

He just had to hope that Gaz was coming back with a rescue party. He wasn't even 100% sure if he was still on the same moon. The only thing he could see from his confinement was the metal-lined hallway and the empty cells beside him.

During his fourth rest cycle, he heard footsteps down the hallway. He did his best to keep calm, taking in slow, steadying breaths. The person who came around the corner was a face he hadn't seen in a while.

The dark cloak swished out behind them as they came to a halt. The smirk on their face was the same one Soap remembered from the few times they were in lessons together.

"Well Phillip, you certainly weren't who I was expecting to see today." He drawled.

"After all these years and they couldn't quite beat the snark out of you could they? And that's Darth Gravis to you," Phillip replied.

Soap snorted. "Really? Darth Gravis? I'm sorry, but I'm nae gonna take you very seriously when I still remember you tripping into the fountain during our forms."

Phillip's eyebrow ticked, but otherwise he kept his face a mixture of arrogant and angry. "When I heard they'd gotten their hands on you, I told them isolation wasn't going to work. But I needed time to get here and I wanted to make sure I was the first one to get my hands on you John." He tilted his head and two droids opened up the cell. The smirk on his face grew as he took a step forward. Soap just stayed in his lotus position.

"By the time I'm done with you, we'll see how seriously you take me."

It had started simple, things Soap had expected. His ribs were bruised and each breath came out with a slight wheeze, but he could take it.

The harder part was the intrusions. Being cut off from the force while feeling someone else's slimy, icher of a presence oozing through his thoughts and tearing down his walls was agonizing. He held in his screams the best he could, making his tongue bleed in the process.

"All those feelings and you're still in the precious Order, huh? Do you think that big bastard actually cares for you that way?" Gravis drawled one time as Soap was hunched over on the floor, trying to catch his breath as blood trickled out of his nose. 

"I watched the footage, you know. We keep most footage of the 'important experiments.' It'd be almost admirable that he isn't dark if it weren't for the fact that he's just so weak. You should've seen him. Pathetic honestly the way he-"

Not many things had gotten to Soap, but with his shields already low and his emotions in fray, hearing him talk about him that way made Soap snap. He lunged forward, slamming himself into Gravis's legs. With his hands still bound behind him, there wasn't much he could do before the droids grabbed him and threw him back against the other wall.

Gravis laughed as he stood up and dusted himself off. "My my, got you riled up didn't I?" He spit to the side. "Let's see if you're just as pathetic as he is."

------------

Ghost hadn't felt Soap in 5 days. While he didn't constantly check on their force bond, he didn't realize how much he felt it until it suddenly shut off.

He can remember the moment it happened with stark clarity. He'd been helping around at the town he was currently staying in, carrying some supplies to help rebuild a health center that had collapsed, when it was like everything went silent.

He froze mid step as he rapidly tried to figure out what on earth had just happened. He couldn't even pinpoint what was wrong or why everything felt slightly off until he assessed his bonds... and realized he couldn't feel Soap.

Ghost didn't have many force bonds still. The ones he had with his old master weren't the strongest and the ones that had been almost forced upon him during-

Well, he didn't have many force bonds anymore for a reason. Soap was about the only one, though Price had one too.

Ghost didn't know what to do. He'd immediately tried to reach out to Soap's comms to no success. The last thing they'd talked about was that he was going to be away on a mission with Garrick-

His comm rang. 

He answered without hesitation. Maybe it was Soap from a different-

"Soap's gone."

It was Garrick. Ghost clenched his comm unit as he stared at the holographic form of the other Jedi, who seemed just fine-

"Where."

"We were on a moon in the Pelgrin sector. It was a trap and he was taken." Garrick said, getting straight to the point.

Ghost immediately started walking back to where he was staying. He had a small ship. It would take him at least 3 days to make it that far. He was already plotting his course when he realized Garrick was still talking.

"-ooku but I don't know if he's still on that moon. Ghost. The Order is going to want to try and go after him too but they won't just storm in. I don't- You know why I'm calling you, right?" 

Ghost grunted. Of course he did. The Order wouldn't be as efficient as he could be, with their bureaucratic tape. There were very few things he missed about the Order, but the political ties that had developed over the recent decades wasn't one of them. 

"I'm on my way. If you get any updates, contact me." He said, disconnecting the call before Garrick could say anything else.

His ship already had rations on it, but he made sure to gather a few more as well as a few additional medical supplies before leaving, despite wanting to peel out as soon as possible. When he punched in the route, he cursed under his breath at the time. Every moment felt like one too many, and he couldn't even be certain that they'd still be there when he arrived.

But he'd have time to make some calls along the way, put some feelers out. He knew who he could trust with this information.

As it was nearing the last day of his trek, he'd gotten word back that Soap was likely not far from where he'd been taken. A ship had been spotted briefly in orbit tucked behind a nearby asteroid. One wouldn't easily spot it if they didn't know what they were looking for.

Ghost took in a deep breath as he started to make a plan. The main thing he had to do was get in, but once that happened-

Well, he wasn't worried too much about whatever might be between him and Soap. It wouldn't be there long.

-----------

They didn't move him afterwards. He was left lying in a cooling pile of his own blood. His forehead was up against the metal floor as he tried to take slow breaths despite his protesting lungs which were both sore and burning as he stretched the cauterized wounds across his chest.

"I'm one with the force and the force is with me." He whispered to himself softly. He took in a slow breath through his nose but it was interrupted by a cough he tried to suppress. He spit up some blood and groaned, trying to take better note of his body.

It felt like half of him was offline, a combination of numbness and tingling stretching across his system. He worked slowly, wiggling each individual finger before he finally felt like he might be able to lift himself up to a seated position.

That's when he heard the gunshots.

He froze, uncertain at first where they were coming from. That's when he realized they were deeper in the building.

... Was someone here for him finally?

He felt a stronger wave of renewed motivation flow through him as he managed to get back to a seated position with only minimal groans and winces of pain. 

"I'm one with the force and the force is with me." He said again, slightly firmer as he tried to calm the ringing in his ears so he could take better stock of where the fighting was happening.

It sounded like it was closer. Was it getting closer?

Suddenly the door down the hall opened, but the gunshots didn't get louder. Instead, he heard the familiar thrum of a lightsaber igniting.

"Well, well, what did I tell them? I knew he'd come for you." Gravis said as he stepped into the cell Soap was in. His red saber crackled angrily as he slowly lifted it, coming to a stop just under Soap's chin.

Soap took in a shaky breath as he looked up at Gravis, holding his chin as steady as he could.

"Sidious has been wanting him back, for another test run. He's certain he can break him this time." Gravis drawled. "I'm not sure why he wants that pathetic thing, but you were just bait." He smirked. "Don't worry, your usefulness hasn't run out yet. I think it'd be more impactful if you were around during the conditioning this time. Toy with his mind a bit. Or maybe we can make him kill you himself, hm? See if we can turn that rage the right direction-"

Another door opened and this time the gunshots were next to none. "Darth Gravis! The force user, he's-" a droid started to say when suddenly the sound of metal hitting the floor rang through the hall.

"My my, took you long enough to get here Simon," Gravis said, looking over but not moving his saber an inch. "Go on Johnny, say hello to him. It's only polite."

Ghost's eyes snapped over to where he was seated on the floor. Despite not being able to feel their force bond like he usually could, Soap could still catalog the emotions running across his face. Ghost's eyes went from him to the puddle of the blood on the floor and back up to the lightsaber at his throat.

Soap saw his hands tighten on the grip of his saber.

"You're just as feeble as I remember Gravis," Ghost rumbled, "Could never pick a fair fight because you knew you'd lose. Beating up on someone who's chained up and disconnected from the force? Does that make you feel stronger?"

Soap saw Gravis's expression flare with anger. The saber was immediately withdrawn and directed towards Ghost.

"You were all but scraped off the floor when you 'escaped.' You know he LET you go right? Someone as simple as you could never have made it out on your own." Gravis snarled. "I've seen the tapes. You're not even worth his time!"

Ghost slid into a fighting stance, not breaking eye contact with Gravis. "And yet he's taking his time trying to lure me back, when he's got a lap dog already drooling to do as he says. Do you feel replaceable yet mutt?"

Gravis snarled louder and immediately launched himself towards Ghost, who blocked him flawlessly. Where Gravis's attacks were fury and erratic, Ghost was as steady and smooth as ever. He looked like he was hardly breaking a sweat as Gravis danced around him.

"Face it Gravis, you were always meant to beg for scraps. If you were truly good enough you wouldn't be the one running errands to try to lure in another apprentice would you?"

This made Gravis lunge, but it was exactly what Ghost wanted to happen. He quickly grabbed Gravis by the shoulder, blocking his saber and throwing him to the floor. He stomped onto the hand that was holding his saber and Gravis shouted as he dropped it. 

Ghost stared down at him for a moment. 

Gravis glared, reaching up a hand, clearly about to use the force, when Ghost's expression finally broke. He curled his upper lip before gripping the air in front of him, easily lifting up Gravis from the floor before quickly slamming him back into it.

Ghost only looked at his limp form for a moment more before he immediately spun and sprinted over to Soap.

Soap looked up at him, cracking a small smile, though he was sure the blood covering his gums wasn't helping. "Hey Ghostie."

The brooding man dropped to his knees and quickly reached around Soap's neck. Soap felt the collar's latch release before he heard it, as the feeling of the Force flooded back into him. 

It was like taking a deep breath after being underwater for too long.

"Oh Force," he breathed.

Immediately the next thing he felt was the cacophony of emotions flooding off of Ghost. "Ghost, I-"

"Don't move Johnny," Ghost said, his tone gruffer than normal. Johnny held still as Ghost deftly cut through the cuffs keeping his hands behind his back. When his hands were free, he slowly moved them around to his front, rubbing his wrists gently. 

"Thank you," he said, realizing how fucked his voice sounded. He's sure it wasn't helping the growing concern Ghost was expressing.

"How broken are you?" Ghost asked.

"Ah, it looks worse than i' is," Soap said, but his point was a bit ruined when he had a coughing fit at the end that left him light headed.

Suddenly, the world around him shifted. He yelped and his position adjusted. Soap blinked and realized how close he was to Ghost's face now, the strong arms wrapped around him. 

Ghost didn't look down at him, taking long strides back through the facility, completely ignoring the graveyard of droids around him. "I have medical supplies on the ship. I'm going to put you there before I come back and... finish what needs to be done in here."

"Ah've seen my share of death before Ghost, you didn' have'ta shield me from that."

Ghost let out a slow breath but didn't reply. 

"Aye, you can' ignore me when I'm this close'ta your face," Soap said.

Finally he saw the hint of a smile under Ghost's usual face scarf. "Mm, I could try."

"Ah you could, but I don' think you traveled all the way here to save me because you don' like me."

Ghost glanced down at him, his brown eyes showing just as much as their force bond revealed. "... Johnny."

Johnny reached up a hand and cupped Ghost's face. "Thank you for comin' for me."

"My head's too quiet without you in it," he replied, pausing for a moment. "... I'll always come for ya Johnny."

There was a joke on the tip of his tongue, but his heart was too happy to make it at the moment. "I know you would Simon."

[connorswhisk]

and so it goes (miguel o’hara x spiderman!reader)

hi note this is a fic specifically for transmasc readers. don’t come anywhere near this if you’re a cis woman. you have a million fics you can read that aren’t this one. thank you 🍻

@spokentothewoods here you go ☺️

WARNINGS: Angst, slightly sexual situations >:)

That ever-present tenseness is visible in his shoulders; in truth, you don’t think you’ve ever seen him without it, for as many years as you’ve been working with him. You’ve been working late tonight and could really use a break yourself, but with Jess away for an ultrasound, someone had to stay behind and keep an eye on Miguel.

Perhaps you volunteered for the job a tad too hastily, if the smirk Hobie had flashed in your direction was any indication, but Hobie’s always smirking at things. You’ve gotten pretty used to it.

In any case, even Margo’s signed off for the night. You know Miguel’s the Big Boss In Charge, but…couldn’t he benefit from some chill time?

“That’s it,” you say, yawning. “That’s the last of the logs done. Think I’ll turn in for the night.”

Miguel says nothing. He either is so immersed in his work that he didn’t hear you, or he’s ignoring you - both are likely in their own way.

After a moment’s more of silence, you frown, and web yourself up to his platform. He’s always brooding, that’s pretty normal, but…

Oh, you realize, because you recognize the video footage he’s watching. You’ve never seen it yourself, but you know what it is, where Miguel came from. You know why he is the way that he is.

You contemplate leaving and pretending you saw nothing, but then Miguel turns his head and fixes you with his dark, exhausted eyes, and it’s too late to act innocent.

“Sorry,” you say quietly. “I didn’t mean to interrupt. You just…”

“What.” He phrases the word as a statement, not a question. “I just what.”

You sigh. “I worry about you, Miguel. I mean, when you first found me in my universe…you were sad, sure, but you weren’t this angry. I don’t know what changed, but if you ever need to talk…”

“I don’t.” His stare is fixed somewhere past your shoulder, his jaw hard as steel. “Nothing changed. I’m fine.”

“Oh, bullshit,” you tell him, and you can’t help but roll your eyes. “How long have we known each other? I know when you’re lying to me.”

Miguel shakes his head. He’s been working with Jess the longest and all the Spiders respect him as their leader, but he’s never gotten as close to anyone as he has to you. You know this because he told you so himself, a year ago when MJ was killed and you were stumbling around HQ in a haze, the big empty pit in your stomach threatening to swallow you whole.

We all lose people, he’d told you, his voice the gentlest you’d ever heard it. But we persevere. You’re strong, Y/N. You can survive this.

I bet you tell all the Spiders they’re your favorite, you’d joked half-heartedly, desolate and depressed, sure you were right. But Miguel had given you this look that had told you plainly: I am completely serious. And then he’d started to say something, stopped as if he’d thought better of himself, and swung away.

You don’t know what he’d been about to tell you…though maybe you kind of do. The pair of you have never necessarily been the emotionally vulnerable types, but the connection between you is one that cannot be denied.

“I’m fine,” he’s repeating now, still hiding from the truth. “Just tired.”

“Which is exactly why you should call it for the night. You’ve done plenty.”

“I haven’t done enough.”

“Look, just…” You exhale deeply, pull off your mask so you can meet him eye-to-eye. You don’t miss the slight change in his demeanor when you bare your face, the fleeting look of quick relief. “Do you…want a massage or something?”

He blinks. “What.”

“I asked if you wanted a - “

“I heard you.”

You quirk an eyebrow. “Ok. So? Your shoulders could really use it, dude.”

“I…” You can pinpoint the exact moment he decides to give in, posture slumped and scowl deepening. “…Fine.”

He turns back to face the screens - thankfully, the video from before is long gone. Miguel says nothing for a long time, ‘til he finally snaps, “Well?”

You lay your hands on his shoulders. You’re no trained masseuse, but your Aunt May does a wicked back rub and you’re sure you can replicate her technique, more or less. And so you try.

Are all shoulder muscles this knotted? Or is Miguel just overworking himself per usual? You’re not sure, but you press as hard as you dare, first with your fingertips, then kneading in and out with your knuckles. Miguel is silent as you work. The only sound he makes is the measured course of his breathing, up-down, up-down, up-down. You can feel it thrumming through your neurons, slow and steady.

“What, sorry?” You didn’t catch what Miguel just mumbled under his breath.

“Can you - go harder?” he repeats, practically spitting the words. He sounds as exhausted as you’ve ever heard him.

Wordlessly, you begin to apply even more pressure, and Miguel moans. You’ve never heard him make a noise like that before, and in your shock, you start and almost back away from him entirely. You manage to keep your wits, though, and you press again in the same spot, feeling the knot aching to unravel beneath his skin.

“Y/N,” he groans - but before you can begin to wrap your head around that, Miguel’s body is freezing up under your fingertips, and suddenly, he’s wrenching himself away from you.

“Woah - you ok?” You drop your hands to dangle by your hips, but you can still feel the buzz in your head, concentrated and slightly painful like a migraine, a hit off a cigarette.

“You should go,” Miguel says quietly, his back to you. “This…you should just go.”

“Ok.” You’re finding it hard to breathe, beneath all the spandex and bindings and confusion. “Did I do something wrong?”

“No.”

“Did I hurt you?”

“No.”

“Then what the hell is the prob - “

“GO, Y/N,” Miguel seethes, his hands tightening into fists at his sides. “Just leave me alone.”

You scowl. “Fine.” Pulling your mask down over your face again, you shoot a strand of web over in the opposite direction, pull yourself through the air until you land against the wall and cling there. “Fine, Miguel. Whatever you want. As usual.”

If he looks back at you as you leave, you don’t know. At the moment, you’re too hurt and angry to waste another thought on him.

[krishakamal]

𝐌𝐚𝐲𝐛𝐞, 𝐖𝐞 𝐉𝐮𝐬𝐭 𝐖𝐞𝐫𝐞𝐧'𝐭 𝐌𝐞𝐚𝐧𝐭 𝐓𝐨 𝐁𝐞

— Ram x Female Reader

SYNOPSIS : In the grief of losing a position, Ram losses the most important person in his life .

WARNINGS : Angry!Ram, break up, angst, 0.9k words.

KAMAL'S NOTE : Hey guys, another fic here. This one was requested by @meenammaisslay in my other account. Hope you like it baby (I'm so bad with angst 🥲)

𝐍𝐀𝐕𝐈𝐆𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍 // 𝐑𝐑𝐑 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓

The clay vase collided with the wall, shattering into millions of pieces. Ram grabbed his forehead in his hand and fell down on his knees on the ground. This was not supposed to happen. No no no. Where did things go wrong?

He worked his damn life off to become a special officer. He stayed separated from his people, worked for those British basterds, obayed them like a dog just to become the special officer and help his people but everything went down in vain. Instead of him, someone else was appointed to the position.

Ram felt lost. What will he do now? He had no idea. Unaware of his misery, you were hopping towards his house, humming and singing. A permanent smile stuck on your face. Today he was going to be appointed as the special officer and you were sure of it.

As his house came into the view, you fastened your speed. Walking up to the front door, knocked on the wooden door and frowned when you got no answer.

"Ram? Are you in there?" You yelled but still got no answer from inside.

Strange. He was supposed to be home by now. Was he late for work or something? Maybe you should come later. But just as you turned to leave, a sound of something shattering came from inside, followed by a scream you knew so well. Before you knew it, you were pushing the door and entering without permission.

The scene in front of you filled you with dread. Nothing was in its place. Things lying here and there, broken pieces of vase spreaded all over and in the middle of all this Ram sitting on the floor, his head bent down, defeated.

You could not control the gasp that left you, "Ram, what on earth happened here?"

You exclaimed as you made your way through the mess. You crouch down in front of him and shake his shoulders, "Ram, are you okay?"

Ram remained silent but he jerked your hands off of him. You awkwardly drew your hands back. Even though you were hurt, you didn't show it. Now was not the time. Ram silently got up and started walking up the stairs.

You followed behind him, "Ram, what happened? Come on, if you tell me then maybe I can help. Crying and hurting yourself isn't going to fix anything. Ram, just tell m—"

"WILL YOU JUST SHUT UP!" Ram grabbed your both arms and brought you in front of him.

You flinched at his loud voice. He had never shouted at you before. You knew Ram would never hurt you but his bloody red eyes were scaring you. You breathed heavily and tried not to panic.

"R-Ram, c…c-calm down please." You plead. Eyes prickling with tears, threatening to fall down.

"CALM DOWN? YOU WANT CALM DOWN? DO YOU EVEN KNOW WHAT HAS HAPPENED? ALL MY HARD WORK WENT TO VAIN. I COULDN'T BECOME THE SPECIAL OFFICER!!"

Ram shook you aggressively before releasing you harshly, "Oh! How will you even understand that?"

You cupped his face, "Ram it's okay. W-We can find some other way o-or opportunity."

Ram pushed you back again, "Don't act like you understand me." Ram fisted his hair, "I-I don't understand. I did everything they told me to but they still didn't choose me. Do they, do they know about my plan? Did someone tell them? B-but who would—"

Ram suddenly stopped and looked at you, observing you. Your heart sped up. You didn't like the look in his eyes, full of doubt, anger and betrayal.

Ram started marching towards you and backed away with each step, "Did you tell them? Huh? Did you tell them about my plan? You did right? What did they offer you? Money, is it?"

Ram grabbed your arms again, making you yelp in pain, "Y-You are…. hurting m-me."

"And you know how much you have hurt me? Tell me, did they offer you money? Or was it something else? Did you fall in love with a Britisher behind my back and slep—"

"I didn't do anything." You couldn't help but raise your voice, "Leave me. Fucking leave me, Ram."

You forced your way out of his clutch. Your hurt was hurting. You knew how important it was for Ram but he had no right to talk like that about you.

"You probably did something stupid and now you are facing the consequences."

"STOP SPOUTING NONSENSE!"

Ram raised his hand to hit you. You instantly closed your eyes, waiting for the pain but nothing came. You opened your eyes hesitantly and saw the arm still in the air. Now you couldn't stop the tears streaming down your cheeks.

Your lips trembled as you choked out the words, "R-Ram, you really were g-gonna—"

Words got stuck in your throat. Before you were sure that it didn't matter how angry he was, he would never hurt you. But now, you could not even recognise the man standing in front of you.

Your Ram would hit you, or shout at you, neither would he ever question your character.

His eyes widened when finally realised what he was going to do, "Y-Y/N, I'm so sorry. I'm so sorry baby. I d-didn't mean to."

Ram tried to hug but you backed away, scared. Something broke in his heart.

"I'm really sorry baby." Ram whispered.

"Don't." You gulped down the sobbs that wanted to come out, "Don't call me that. I'll call Babai. Sober up and fix yourself. Maybe then we'll talk."

Maybe, not then. Ram knew he had messed up big time. He didn't try to stop you as you hurried out of the house, finally letting those sobbs out. You walk out of the house and probably his life without any intention of ever coming back.

The couple rings dug in your palm as you clutched them tightly in your fist. Maybe we just weren't meant to be.

© 𝐊𝐑𝐈𝐒𝐇𝐀𝐊𝐀𝐌𝐀𝐋 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟑, 𝐀𝐋𝐋 𝐑𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓𝐒 𝐑𝐄𝐒𝐄𝐑𝐕𝐄𝐃 — all content rights belongs to KRISHAKAMAL. Do not plagiarize any works and do not repost or translate onto any other sites.

All the rights and credits of the characters, gifs, songs and pictures used here belongs to their rightful owners.

[epersonae]

You've made me mad with power. Director's Cut of "I Spit On Your Grave", please.

Obviously I wanted -- no, needed -- to write a fic where Stede finds out what actually happened with Izzy while he was gone.

It is a key aspect of my Bad Ending fic in case I never make it through to where you are that Stede does NOT know, because I think otherwise he would have actually killed Izzy in that fic. I had a lovely long conversation with my therapist about that, both that fic generally and this question of knowing what was done to someone you love who is gone. Because HOOBOY did s2 kick up all my feelings about Ryn's parents, especially their mother; there was a piece of information that I found out after Ryn died that made me so angry I did seriously have a full-blown panic attack about it.

So yeah, I was always going to write something, but part of my writing process especially with shorter works is that I need a hook, something to get me into it -- an image or a sentence, something concrete to pull together whatever messy ideas have been spinning around in the blender.

And of course, I might have written it sooner (and it would have been a different fic) but I did break my leg right before Christmas, and that basically took me out not just physically but also mentally for about two months. I actually started making some notes in late January but I didn't have any stamina to do the writing until late February.

I knew the hook was going to be a bit back from the actual harm -- I've been fascinated by this question of how Izzy never says that "his captain" is actually Blackbeard since way back in my first watches of the show, and then there's kind of a running joke around here about how Stede always leads describing the meet-cute with "so I'd been gut-stabbed" like babygirl what. And the phrase "just happened upon our ship" or whatever that is, when MY DUDE HE'S BEEN FOLLOWING YOU THIS WHOLE TIME. The whole thing has this mix of Izzy having been lying through his teeth and Stede being hilariously oblivious that cries out for something to dig into.

And then I saw this post by @iamadequate1, and OH OKAY. Because weaponized therapy language and isolation in emotional abuse is something that, well. Yeah. Plus it had all the relevant bits of dialogue in one post! Plus I'd been thinking about Izzy as an unreliable narrator for almost two years, and I'd been thinking specifically about people with uhhhhhh a "flexible relationship with the truth" (to use a line from the fic), and a tendency to say different things to different people in order to evade responsibility.

So I made some notes, according to the document history at the end of January, and then probably either went back to sleep or back to watching Perry Mason. Came back to it in late February, and the first two-thirds or so came together pretty quickly and then I got stuck. I knew I wanted something with Stede yelling at the grave, but I'd sort of written myself into a corner where that didn't seem to be happening. (Basically, got to the point where he holds Ed while Ed is crying.)

And then I saw THIS post by @celluloidbroomcloset, and something clicked together about "doggie heaven" and the parallel with Ned Low, and somehow that was the rug that tied the room together. Probably because also they're both dead, Izzy and Ned, and that leads to this question of the impossibility of revenge, and that so much of the time there's just nothing you can do, really, and that also hurts. Even if they're not dead; there's just no point, like what the fuck are you gonna do, exactly? Which is sort of where the Mary parallel comes in, I think, and also not giving Izzy credit for bringing them together, because that's all them.

All in all this is a really special fic for me, trying to find this balancing point where things are pretty good for them, actually, but they still need to work through their respective hurts and be properly seen -- fill in all the blanks so they can move forward.

[demigodsanswer]

Variations dvd

[ask game]

✄ DVD BONUS: pick a fic and I’ll describe or write a deleted scene!

This is tough, because Variations is basically "Deleted Scenes: The Fic" but

I have this vision of a scene where, to promote the ballet on social media, Percy and Annabeth dance to Once Upon a Dream from Disney's Sleeping Beauty, and Annabeth would be in one of the peasant dress costumes the company uses for Copellia or Flower Festival, and would be barefoot, just to be movie-accurate-ish.

While this is sweet in my head, it just felt corny and distracting to actually write. But I'm sure at some point in universe, someone sets their pas de deux performance to Once Upon a Dream, especially once it's confirmed that they did have a showmance

Here's a snipit from chapter two as well!

Annabeth woke up to her phone buzzing nonstop. She rolled over and found the edge of the bed. Slowly she remembered where she was -- Estelle’s twin bed while Stella slept on an air mattress. Annabeth carefully slipped out of the bed, grabbed her phone, and made her way into the hallway. 

Daddy

Her phone told her it was barely 7:30 in the morning. What on earth …

It wasn’t until she was squinting at her phone that she realized she’d forgotten her glasses. She scolded herself for forgetting, but if her dad was calling her this early, he must need something. 

“Hello?” She said, keeping her voice quiet as she made her way down the hallway to Percy’s room. She’d made a note of where it was last night after he emerged from it with pajamas for her to wear. His sweatpants were incredibly comfortable. 

“Annie! Oh thank god,” her father said, sounding genuinely relieved. “Where are you?” 

“What’s going on?” Annabeth asked. 

“No one’s been able to find you since last night,” her dad said. Annabeth was confused. She’d told Beck and Silena where she was and why. No one else had texted her, and her father didn’t need to know where she was. 

“I went home with the Jackson’s last night,” she said as she opened Percy’s door. Percy was a blurry blob on the bed, but the blob seemed to sit up when she entered. She hoped she hadn’t woken him up. 

“Luke was worried about you,” her dad said. 

“So?” Annabeth said callously. Let him worry, what do I care? 

“He said you never came home last night. He went to your apartment, and you weren’t there.” 

Annabeth paled and felt her tired legs get weak. Thank god for Sally, she thought. He’d gone to her apartment uninvited. After what she’d said. After what she did? He wasn’t there to apologize, she was almost certain. Luke had seen her get in a cab with Percy. He was looking for them. 

Annabeth sat down on Percy’s bed. 

“Well, I didn’t invite him over last night,” she told her dad. He didn’t seem to process what she meant by that. 

Next to her, Percy sat up more and moved closer, but she was more far-sighted. As he got closer, he got blurrier than he had been before. Her eyesight had gotten rapidly worse between eighteen and twenty-two, but her prescription was pretty consistent now at hopeless without glasses or contacts. Percy was still a very handsome blob. 

“Annie, he misses you, and he’s worried. It’s not fair for you to ignore him like this,” her dad said. Annabeth wanted to throw her phone. What did he know anyway? 

“Yes it is,” Annabeth said, her voice low but her tone angry. “We aren’t together, he doesn’t live with me, and he has no right to --” 

“You two really can’t just work it out?” 

“No,” Annabeth said simply. She looked at Percy and rolled her eyes, mouthing my father at him. “And I told you I didn’t invite him over. He just showed up at my apartment and spent half the morning harassing you to try and find me.” 

“Don’t be dramatic, Annie.” 

Annabeth clenched her jaw to hold back a scream or  sob, she wasn’t sure which. She shut her eyes tight as that oh-so common refrain rang through her head again. Silly, stupid, dramatic girl. 

Percy rested a hand on her shoulder, and Annabeth instinctively relaxed under his touch. He started to run his hand up and down her arm. His hands were warm, and Annabeth so desperately wanted to hang up the phone, crawl under Percy’s covers, and stay there with him all day. 

[delicatenightfury]

Star of the Mountain Chapter 23

Warnings: fluff, angst, canon-level violence, spoilers for the Hobbit films

Pairing: OC x Thorin Oakenshield

Beta'd By: @mistys-blerbz

Author's Note: please do not steal my work! I do not own the Hobbit or the characters, but I do own my OCs and the parts of the plot that are not part of the movies. I have worked very hard on this fic. Please be respectful and do not steal.

Please comment, reblog, and like!

Masterlist - Previous Chapter - Next Chapter

Thorin, you really are an idiot.

That sentence had been running through Vedis’s head for the past few hours.

She had been shocked upon first seeing Oreliell. Her sister rarely cried, so to see her in that state… and to know that Thorin, her One and betrothed, was the one to cause such a reaction? Vedis was angry, to say the least.

Vedis stood from her place on the floor and went to the window. She could faintly see the newly constructed wall that Oreliell had mentioned. Vedis glared at the mountain.

That stupid dwarf.

Suddenly, the sound of steady marching and shifting metal caught her ear. Vedis glanced at Oreliell, who was still asleep. She had managed to find a spot away from the people of Lake-town for them to rest for the night, and she was grateful for it. Vedis hoped that she wouldn’t be disturbed as she stepped out of the room.

Vedis walked down to the main street, following the approaching sounds. None of the humans seemed to be up yet, including the slimy snake of a man that Bard had ordered to keep watch. She rolled her eyes as she stepped past him, only to freeze. 

A sea of gold was approaching.

Elves dressed in golden armor marched through the streets, filling the small square and the streets before that. Vedis couldn’t see where they ended. She couldn’t help but stare at them in shock. 

Where had they come from? Why were they here? And how had she missed them coming in?

Vedis slowly walked down the steps, moving around the army. They took up every space they could, so it was difficult to move. Even the side paths seemed to be filled with soldiers. But she was surprised when they stepped out of the way, clearing room and making a path for her to use.

As she walked, she heard the people of Lake-town starting to move about. They had also noticed the elves - though they were hard to miss at this point.

“Vedis.” She turned her head and saw Bard walking through the elves. He appeared just as puzzled as she felt. He glanced around them. “What is all this?”

Vedis simply shrugged.

Just then, the sound of hooves on stone reached her ears. She turned her head and stared as Thranduil came riding into view on a large elk. Behind him came more soldiers, riding horses of their own.

“My lord Thranduil,” Bard greeted. “We did not look to see you here.”

“I heard you needed aid.”

The elven king looked back down the path he had come up, prompting those gathering to do the same. Wagons led by horses came through, loaded with a variety of food and supplies. Bard looked on in shock while Vedis looked at Thranduil. She was a little shocked by his act of goodwill. The elves on the wagon helped to distribute the supplies to the people of Lake-town that had quickly gathered around.

Bard approached Thranduil and smiled.

“You have saved us,” he said. “I do not know how to thank you.”

“Your gratitude is misplaced,” Thranduil said. “I did not come on your behalf. I came to reclaim something of mine.”

Vedis glared at the king. 

There it was. The ulterior motive.

“What do you mean?”

“Not that it is your concern, but there are jewels that I desire in that mountain. Ones that belonged to someone once precious to me. I intend to get them back.” Thranduil looked at his troops. “{Move out!}”

Without another word, Thranduil guided his Elk to another street to supervise his troops.

“He cannot be serious,” Bard said. He looked at Vedis. “Does he truly mean that?”

Vedis sighed and nodded.

“Wait! Please wait!” Bard hurried toward Thranduil. Vedis followed behind him. “You would go to war over a handful of gems?”

“The heirlooms of my people are not lightly forsaken.”

“We are allies in this. My people also have a claim upon the riches in that mountain. Let me speak with Thorin.”

Thranduil finally looked at him.

“You would try to reason with the dwarf?” he asked.

“To avoid war? Yes.”

Thranduil studied Bard for several moments. His gaze darted to Vedis, but she simply looked at his moving troops. She was just glad that Oreliell wasn’t here, otherwise she would be causing a riot. Her sister was fiercely protective; it was amazing, but it could be a flaw of her’s at times.

“{Halt.}” Vedis was tempted to look at Thranduil, but she could feel his eyes on her. “Very well. I shall give you a horse and you may try and talk sense into Oakenshield. But I would not get your hopes up.”

“Thank you,” Bard breathed.

Before long, Bard was riding toward the mountain. Vedis went to the bridge to watch Bard. While Thorin was her friend and she understood that he wasn’t in the right state of mind, she still wanted to make sure that Bard made it back all right. While her eyes followed the human as he approached the mountain, her ears picked up Thranduil riding toward her on his elk. She barely spared him a glance as he stopped. 

“Vedis.”

She sighed. She knew that he would continue to pester her if she did not respond. She glanced up at Thranduil and raised an eyebrow at him.

What? she silently asked. 

“Are you well? Last I saw you, you were exhausted from the excess use of your powers.”

She was surprised that he actually sounded genuine. She nodded slowly.

“I’m glad. And what about your sister? How is she handling the situation with Thorin?”

Vedis’s look turned into a glare and she returned her gaze to the mountain. Thranduil hummed beside her. A silence fell over them, but Vedis was content with ignoring Thranduil. He had no right sticking his nose in their business. 

The two watched as Bard eventually came riding back, a sour expression on his face. 

“He will give us nothing,” Bard announced to them.

Vedis looked down.

“Such a pity,” Thranduil replied. She snapped a glare at him. “Still, you tried.”

“I do not understand. Why? Why would he risk war?”

Suddenly, a large piece of a statue fell off the mountain and fell onto the bridge before it, effectively stopping anyone from reaching the gate that way. Vedis could clearly hear the stones break apart.

“It is fruitless to reason with them,” Thranduil said. He pulled out his sword to examine it. “They understand only one thing.” Vedis couldn’t help but bristle at his words. Thranduil knew nothing about dwarves, nor the company. “We attack at dawn.” He turned his elk around and started back toward Dale. “Are you with us?”

Vedis looked up at Bard. The man seemed conflicted as he watched Thranduil go, but his face slowly hardened with a look of determination. He glanced down at Vedis before they both started toward the city.

“Vedis?”

“Oreliell,” Vedis greeted. “Did you sleep well?”

“As well as I could. What is happening? I heard a crash and there are elves in the city.”

“Thranduil arrived with supplies for the people. He is planning on waging war tomorrow morning.”

“What?”

“Bard tried to reason with Thorin, but he refuses to give anyone what they were promised. The gate is complete and they have destroyed the bridge into the mountain.” Oreliell was quiet for a long minute. “Muinthel?”

When Vedis got no response, she knew that something wasn’t right. She took off at a run, ignoring Bard’s call behind her. She ducked through the streets, weaving through the random humans or elves she came across. The people were still distributing the new supplies, taking time to eat and take care of themselves. Meanwhile, the elves were beginning to prepare for battle. 

In the distance, she could hear a few people shouting. Vedis ran faster, pushing through several elven guards to find out what was going on.

Oreliell was pushing against a guard and shouting at him. Vedis quickly went to her sister. She grabbed Oreliell by the arm and pulled her away.

“What are you doing?” Vedis questioned. “Have you lost your mind?”

“Let me go, Vedis.”

“No, you must listen to me. You cannot fight your way through the king’s guard to get to Thranduil. While we are not in Mirkwood, he still holds authority here.”

“I do not care-”

“You should. If you are going to be there for Thorin, if you are going to even think about bringing him back off whatever edge he is on, you need to get your head on straight. And if you can’t do it for him, do it for me.”

Oreliell’s eyes softened as she looked at her sister and nodded. Vedis glanced at the guard, who remained nearby and eyed them cautiously. She narrowed her eyes a little, silently telling the ellon to back away.

“Vedis. Oreliell.” The two looked toward the tent that had been sent up. Thranduil was standing at the entrance, dressed in a new robe that flowed over him. Vedis wanted to roll her eyes at the sight of it. “Come inside.”

The sisters exchanged looks before they slowly entered the tent. It was large, filled with a table, several chairs, food and wine, and several other pieces of furniture. Vedis rolled her eyes at the sight of the elaborate details on some of the furniture. 

“I never understood why rulers must have such elaborate tents,” she muttered, making Oreliell chuckle.

Thranduil glanced between the two of them.

“What is it?” he said, sounding skeptical.

“Vedis was just admiring your decorations,” Oreliell said. 

Thranduil simply hummed and sat down.

“I understand you wanted to say something to me,” Thranduil said, looking at Oreliell.

She glared at him.

“You cannot go to war with the company. Thorin is not in the right state of mind.”

“He seems sane enough to give threats and go back on promises. And if I’m not mistaken, cause injuries?”

Oreliell’s fists clenched by her sides.

“The dragon sickness is altering his mind. You are willing to kill a group of dwarves for a small portion of riches?”

“Because that is all they are. A small group of dwarves. It will be easy enough to reclaim what I and the people of Lake-town are owed.”

“Over my dead body. I do not care if you are a king, commoner, or god, you will not harm those dwarves.”

Vedis grabbed Oreliell’s arm, keeping her in place and preventing her from stepping toward Thranduil. Her words were enough to make the guards at the door become more alert.

Thranduil studied Oreliell for a long minute.

“How is it that an elleth such as yourself came to be betrothed to a dwarf? Were you threatened, or perhaps blackmailed?”

“My relationship with Thorin is none of your concern.”

“Perhaps not, but it is fascinating. You are terribly loyal to him.”

“I’ll take that as a compliment, though I know it was not intended as one.”

“Interpret it as you will. But regardless, we will march upon the mountain tomorrow.”

“My lord Thranduil.”

The elves looked to the entrance, finding Bard standing there. He glanced over the three of them. He looked almost unsure if he should have interrupted.

“What is it?” Thranduil asked.

“Someone just arrived who is demanding to speak with you. Says his name is Gandalf?”

[o0anapher0o]

20 Questions for Fic Writers

Thank you for tagging me @meraki-yao. I am very happy at the oportunity to shamelessly plug many, many of my fics :D Let’s do this!

How many works do you have on ao3?

47

What?! When did that happen? And how?

What’s your total ao3 word count?

502,199

Weirdly less surprising, even thought hat number is completely unreal.

What fandoms do you write for?

Interview with the vampire (2022)

Miss Fisher’s Murder Mysteries

Red White and Royal Blue

Star trek: Deep Space Nine

And I have one teeny tiny Thunderbirds fic

Top 5 fics by kudos

Somewhere I have never travelled (ds9)

Petal by Petal (ds9)

Your most frail gesture (ds9)  

Watch that man (rwrb)

Personality (ds9)

I feel like I should count the first three as one, since it’s literally parts 1, 2 and 3 of a trilogy.

Surprising how fast my first rwrb fic got up there.

Do you respond to comments?

Always, usually a bit rambly. I love talking to people about my writing :D

What is the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

Puh, that’s a hard one. I’m such a happy endings girl. My instinct was one of my iwtv fics, but they’re more angry than angsty lol, so I’m saying it’s between Of all untruths the truest is you (iwtv) and Do no harm (ds9)

What’s the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?

Your most frail gesture ends with a wedding, though actually I like the accepted proposal in Petal by Petal more.

Do you get hate on fics?

None so far (knock on wood).

Do you write smut?

No. A lot of my fics make it clear sex is happing but I don’t write it and I haven’t really any urge to.

Craziest crossover

My TayNick character crossover New Information. Also my only crossover so far, but that’s a side note.

Have you ever had a fic stolen?

Not that I know of. Hopefully having all my stuff archivelocked will keep it that way.

Have you ever had a fic translated?

YES! Someone did a translation of Do no harm into Russian. Only one of the coolest things that ever happened to me (though I would have preferred to be asked beforehand rather than simply be presented with a link).

Have you ever co-written a fic before?

No. I’m not entirely sure how that would work, but I’d be open to it.

All time favourite ship?

Why do people insist you have to have one favourite over everything else? No, I’m an adult, I can have as many OTPs as I want.

What’s a wip you want to finish, but doubt you ever will?

Beneath Lucifer’s claws. I love this story so much, but I have it in me to finish it. I also have an old ATLA fic I love to bits, that has really neat bits but I was such a different person when I wrote it, it would need a complete rewrite and half of my favourite scenes don’t really work anymore.

What are your writing strengths?

I’ve been told my pacing is good. And I think I’m quite good at characters voices right when it comes to fanfic.

What are your writing weaknesses?

Punctuation. And I definitely suffer from ‘why use a period when I can use a comma’ disease XD. Scene transitions always feel clumsy to me, I don’t know if they read like it.

Thoughts on dialogue in another language?

Oh, there’s an essay. If I were to give general advice I’d say, avoid it. It’s fun to read when you speak the language and annoying if you don’t, having to look up stuff all the time interrupts the reading flow. It’s even more annoying when you speak the language and the author clearly didn’t.

I’ve seen it done well once, where it was used so the characters couldexchange information because that was the natural thing to do for them, while keeping it a secret from the reader. That was neat. 'But even that could be done by just saying 'he said something in [language]'.

First fandom you wrote in?

Published or not? My first published fic was Jack’s Desk for mfmm. But I also still have fifteen year old supernatural and vampire diaries fics in a notebook somewhere. The world wasn’t ready yet.

Favourite fic you’ve written?

Something unstoppable and Somewhere I have never travelled. Neither of them came out the way I thought they would but I love how they ended up so much.

tagging @sapphosewrites @xenobotanist and @nalyra-dreaming

[distant-eclipses]

I'm gonna be writing DCA fanfics(using @dca-fanart-gallery's prompt list for this particular fic) for at least most of october. Today's prompt: fire

Summary: "There was only one person who he needed to save, who couldn't be fixed. The rulebreaker may have broken the one simple rule it had set, but he didn't deserve to burn for it!"

Sun wants to save Gregory, but a certain security robot has other ideas(takes place during the Unmasked ending)

Note: Before Ruin came out I had an au where Sun and Moon managed to escape the pizzaplex as the "true ending" happened. But while that's pretty out of date now, it still helped inspire me to write this

Quick cw: this is a bit more angsty than my other works. Also, Sun hurts himself a bit, but it's not major

No no no!

Sun climbed up the slide, bolting towards the entrance as soon as he could stand. It could hear the S.T.A.F.F bots panicking and sounding their alarm, but ignored the temptation to go back for them. He had already spent too long trying to find the source of the smoke in the play area, there was no time to corral them all. He still felt guilty, but the knowledge that they could be rebuilt stopped him from changing its mind. There was only one person who he needed to save, who couldn't be fixed. The rulebreaker may have broken the one simple rule it had set, but he didn't deserve to burn for it!

Smoke flooded into the daycare as the main entrance opened. Waving some of it away with his hand, Sun started coughing, only to pause as he remembered that it didn't have lungs. Even so, he could hear his fans running as a wave of heat hit him. Ready to help the rulebreaker escape, stepped forward, but stopped as two facts hit him like a toy truck that was thrown by an angry preschooler.

One, the smoke was covering the neon lights, making everything darker. Two, leaving the daycare was against the rules.

But it'd be okay to leave, right? He wouldn't be gone for long, he'd return after the fire. But if he got caught... Sun started to pace, grabbing onto his rays and gently tugging. How long would a fire last anyway, someone had to have called a fire department. But what if that person spotted him? He stopped pacing and leaned forward, trying to steady his breathing and calm down. "Take deep breaths Sunny..." After all, the rules were only one of the things he needed to worry about.

Even if he didn't leave, Moon was still a problem. Would the smoke be enough to activate it? What would he do? He liked rules almost as much as Sun, what if he stayed and let them burn? Even if Sun managed to leave the daycare, what if it found an employee and told them about how he was a rulebreaker? It gripped onto its rays tighter, doing harsher tugs as he thought of that no good, dirty, rotten-

The sound of groaning metal was the only warning he had to move.

He jumped forward, hitting his head on the ground as the shutter fell on his ankles. He twisted his torso and leaned back(forward?), frantically tugging on his legs. "No-!" One of his hands drifted up towards his rays, pausing as he felt a sharp stabbing pain in his head. Oh no. The smoke was too dark. He was active. Sun groaned and threw his head back, gripping onto the sides of his faceplate as he struggled to stay in control. Not now! He needed more time!

[Naughty, naughty]

Sun fought down Moon's urge to laugh. He could feel the naptime attendant's amusement, Sun broke a rule. It slammed his head against the floor, letting out a scream at the added pain. Despite his stress, he giggled, knowing that it wasn't just him who did the scream. A wave of annoyance made him wince, cutting off the tiny bit of enjoyment he managed to have.

[Stop it]

"No!" He just needed a little more time! The fire- there was a fire. The pressure in his head suddenly lifted, was Moon distracted? Not wanting to waste the sudden freedom, he lifted the shutter and pulled his leg back. He managed to stand up and start limping towards the escalators before the pain returned, leaving him stumbling to try to avoid the flames and rubble.

[What are you doing?]

Sun groaned, pulling on the ribbons on his wrist despite the desire to go back to clutching its head. They must be broken, Sun must've broken them. "I need to save my new friend!" Well, probably not his friend, but he was a still a child.

[We'll burn]

"We need to save-"

[Stupid Sun!]

The sudden wave of pressure and pain almost sent Sun tumbling to the ground. Shaking, he tried to hit his forehead as it felt his control slipping. [My new friend-]

Moon stretched and spun his faceplate. "Not our friend. Not your friend." The security robot limped towards the entrance, unflinching as Sun started to yell at it.

[He's a child!]

"He is naughty. It's his naptime" No! He tried to grab a bit of control back, he knew what that meant, only to stop as he felt a wave of anger. "No more sun! Naughty! Rulebreaker!" Moon tugged on his wrist ribbons, grumbling.

[But... the child-]

"Our lives." The fight drained out of Sun as he felt more of Moon's anger. "No more sun, stay quiet."

As the doors were opened, the wave of cool, fresh air was a relief. But as Moon sat alone on the pavement, Sun had a hard time feeling happy about it. Moon tugged on his ribbons.

[lacontroller1991]

Second Chances (Gordo Stevens x F!Reader)

Main Master List || For All Mankind Master List

Author’s Note: Self comfort fic? Me? *le gasp*

Warnings: 18+ just to be safe, drinking to get drunk, mentions of cheating/infidelity, language

Word Count: 922

==========

He knew exactly where you would be before anyone had the chance to tell him. Unlike himself and the other astronauts, you often choose to go to a bar just down the street from the Outpost, making it easy for him to find you, especially on days like today. You see, he heard from Dani, who heard from Tracy, who heard from Karen, who heard from Ed, who heard from your supposed boyfriend that all you ever were was a side piece. The thought makes Gordo cringe in regret because one time long ago, you were his side piece. Since then, the short glances at each other when passing the other in the hall, the terse nods, and the forced communications only made Gordo’s heart grow fonder of you and he hopes you’re the same way.

He hesitantly steps into the bar, eyes scanning across the hazy place until he spots your figure, hunched over a glass of gin and tonic. “Typical.” Gordo comments to himself, fully stepping into the bar and walking over to you slinging back the drink. “You should go easy on those.”

You scoff at his comment, rolling your eyes and signaling the bartender for another. “Sounds pretty hypocritical Stevens. I think you should take your own advice.” Gordo purses his lips and takes a seat, ordering a Budweiser as you continue to look straight ahead, not giving him the satisfaction.

“I came on good terms. To see if you are alright.” That seems to catch your attention, causing you to turn to him, eyes full of confusion.

“What do you mean ‘to see if you’re alright’?” Gordo takes a sip of his beer as you tap your foot in irritation. Wiping his mouth with the back of his hand his lips turn downward.

“Do you not know?”

“Know what?”

“Daniel said you were his side piece? That he’s been seeing another person?” Recognition hit your face as you turned forward, taking a sip out of your drink.

“Word gets around fast I guess.” Gordo feels bad that he of all people found out. He feels bad that your private relationship information is now the hot gossip of JSC. He also feels bad because this is not the first time it’s happened. “I kinda figured he had someone else. He was never really there. He only wanted to do things in secret places. He never allowed me back at his place. I just hate that I fell for it… again.” You take a glance at Gordo as he mentally kicks himself. Of course you’d still be angry. He had you on a tight leash and then it all crashed down. “I can understand it. I’m doing a job that is very demanding of my time, but what I don’t get is why you care. Why do you care so much that you sought me out just to ask ‘are you doing alright’?”

“Because I care.”

“But why?” Gordo stills for a moment, trying to think of the right words to say. When he had started seeing you, he was quickly enraptured by your beauty and your wits, your humor and your passion. You weren’t like other girls where he would just have a one night stand with them. No. Gordo and you had many, many, nights together in each other's arms. Until you found out about his wife. Then to make matters worse, you started working with said wife. As far as he knows, Tracy never knew who had captured his wavering attention, given how you and Tracy talk with each other, however, he also knows that Tracy isn’t dumb. Does any of that even matter now? Him and Tracy are a thing of the past and he’s moved on as has she. He only hopes that whatever feelings you had for him back then would still be there buried deep down.

“Look, I know I fucked up. I know that I was nothing but a drunk and a cheater, but please, let me change that version of me in your head. I am better than I was before. So please, give me a chance.”

“Why now?”

“I knew that I was a mess. I knew that I wasn’t right in the head. Then I started gaining weight and all my confidence drained from me. If I was to win you back, or even ask you on a date, I knew within myself that I wanted to be the best I can be for you. I want to be mentally sane. I want to be physically healthy. I wanted to be the best version of myself I can be, and now I am. So (Y/N), would you be willing to go on a date with me?” He knows he’s giving you the puppy dog eyes, but the minute his eyes spot the tears welling in yours, he frowns in concern.

“I just don’t want my heart broken again.” He pulls you in for a hug and you hate how you instantly fall into his embrace as if no time has passed since all those years ago. “I need time. Daniel, he- he really had me believing that he loved me, and I don’t think I can just move on like that.”

“That’s okay. I understand. I’ll still be here when you’re ready.” He pulls away as you retake your seat, wiping away tears. “Now, how about I buy you some food?”

For the first time that day, a smile graces your face. “I think I’d like that.”

==========

Author’s Note: Short and sweet but much needed. Hope you guys enjoy!!!

@tavners​ @reveluving​ @hibob​ @jamestown-base​

Tagging the last two in case you both wanted to read this.

[grahamcarmen]

Just wanted to tell you that whenever you vent, I feel so heard and seen, like someone was literally listening when I was ranting in my brain.

Also how many asks do you have in your askbox right now ignoring this one.

you and me ranting and venting forever XD ha!

i'm glad my venting is not in vain I have so much weary complaining in terms of why i do not understand. like . always under duress and always in the disclaimer corner , but ???

i'm just more tired than angry...still angry but :/

overall?

6

not much but like the first 2 i probably won't answer because one is a hornet nest i mostly agree with /and the other one was telling me that apparently the fandom said something so. freaking. dumb. a lot of dumb somethings actually, that i just 1000 yard stared into space that I had someone asked me irl if i was ok [the rest is so sweet and made me happy that they like this blog and i wish that they had a nice day/months too, and that part i do wish i'd answered because i do hope that they manage to find their feet on this website and in general. it can be disheartening but try to remember that this is for you to have fun so try to carve a corner for the things that interest you!]...

anyway it still feels like kicking hornets nests and giving input to wild stupidity that i'm not all informed about its current form, i am annoyed but i don't know the fandom like that tbh to just be hearing that it still is just ...hmmm, why are you guys...why... why are you guys the way- and address it like its not a recycled fandom issue or even new stupider evolution of issues that i don't have first hand knowledge of because i really do...not know those people.

i felt like including one of the stupid somethings on the ask about dumb arguments against rc but i don't actually know the intricacies of why they even feel sure enough to say that. like its just deadass wrong. its insultingly wrong. like anon. that was like top worst accusations like the actual mention in the ask is like a few words and i literally went THEY SAID WHAT.

and for that i am so sorry because it is a very sweet and heartfelt ask that made my day and in the grand scheme i could just address that and not the rest, i just like absolutely did not see that part coming and can't keep myself from addressing it but then i also want to know where the audacity came from to properly do so and then im like...there are other fandoms [to myself]...

...rants are a-ok to send [im probably venting at that moment too about something] but like ajdfnaskf this is probably what it will do to me

hornets nests i will avoid kicking because at the end of the day this blog is the corner i carved out for what interests me and i would like to not have too many of those posted when i scroll through it to get my daily rc boost

and it is the sweetest ask for real but also wtf csfandom. WHY.

and in general loop de loop arguments i simply do not know what new thing i could say to get across stupid argument is stupid...we could be making text posts about how they should kiss instead

3- i did write for rc week! it was a small note at the end of the third one which also has something that feels like it needs a proper response but like i feel VERY snippy on that subject so like its probably gonna wait for a bit i'm so sorry but i did, i wasn't planning to but i did

4-acme...i am thinking about just answering it with the meme

i find all the acme members interesting as individuals and what they contribute thematically to the show

vs.

i do not care for ACME

but like again i do feel like putting like more of an effort since i didn't have any thoughts for the first part of the ask but i would like to make 1 for each part and i don't hate any of the members for real i promise and understand how big ACME is to this show and the franchise in general T,T

5- a fic request! :D im looking forward to working on it? it probably will be short but i'm happy one of my ideas got requested

6-might answer it soon...might be a little rambly but it concerns the boy gray and a nerve that i'm ACTUALLY ready to poke at a little...a little

so again not many but i do feel bad for not answering ASAP (due to many things) when i am very happy to receive them

and then spending my energy on making rc stuff first because thats usually what i have energy for

Like I really am happy whenever I see that there are other people who do enjoy rc and this blog enough to send asks [sometimes very passionate in their defense] . So thank you. very much.

^^

[lunalit-river]

[Update] Far Side of the Moon Ch.25

It has been some time now since I promoted my fic on Tumblr (because I am not very used to the user interface of Tumblr, and I am still learning how reblogging and comments work. They are definitely different from Meta's 'Share', right???)

Far Side of the Moon - Chapter 25 - Lunalit_river - Death Note (Anime & Manga) [Archive of Our Own]

[Babbling]

In later chapters, I quite let go of writing long notes in AN; it didn't feel the same when I started the story. Ah! The passion for the story- don't get me wrong, I still do love my plot and story- but the urge to share my headcanon in AN gradually faded away as interactions seemed not very active. Nevermind. So don't do it on AO3 when you have some sort of expectation, turn to TUMBLR where I have no expectation of anyone really commenting my post, YAY! (As for reddit because too much people will read it, unless I really want to get it out...most of the time I feel shy.) Tumblr felt a lot like English plurk to me- ah yes Plurk does have english but you know...my Plurk is in Mandarin Chinese and people on Taiwanese Plurk are liberals, left wing, and plenty of cosplayers and fans of fandoms.

[Some more random babbling on FSOTM]

I like some sort of transformation shown in stories. How one person changed. How they started from being a normal person to madness. I never really believed in "he is who he is and has never changed." We change constantly. I like the movie Joker; you see the process of him getting pushed into the abyss, you see how he fell, how he was despairing again and again, how he struggled, and then became Joker. Very realistic. When watching I know that he will not be saved. But there was always hoping someone to walk into his miserable life and light up the darkness. Maybe I like the feeling of having hope and then seeing it vanish (in literature.) There was another movie with a similar plot, but the character was a teen. There were numerous times I was screaming inside "Someone save him! Pull him away from the darkness! Save his soul!" But no one came. Ah. So despair. Ah. Watch it again

Back to FSOTM. My beta asked me whether it was some sort of compensation to write Mello as..well, a seven-year-old boy acting as a little boy. Maybe? Isn't he adorable (smile) but I do know that Near and Mello each had L's personalities- Near the calm, reserved, rational one. Mello the angry little thunderstorm bold, quick thinker, willing to act one. I also think that Mello also has L's childishness in him. Everyone started pure and innocent. Some changed early. Some changed in a good way (education, influenced by others) while some fell.

As for L in this current chapter, I've always considered it hard for L to learn how to love someone else. It has to be slow...and it never starts out as him intentionally learning how to love. It is just reasonable things he thinks he could do under the relationship he and this person shared. And then one by one, gradually building up... It goes slow, like a toddler learning how to walk, and it must be a struggle and very strange to him, with plenty of wobbling and stumbling, but eventually, he learns how to walk.

“What’s wrong with sitting under a flower tree?” “I thought you didn’t appreciate flowers.” “I could learn to appreciate them. You and Watari both like flowers.”

If you like it, then I will learn to like the things that you like.

This is starting to give me Steven Universe vibes. Recommend this song "Love Like You"

I think this is enough babbling for today.

[drunktuesdays]

..... please explain syracuse? pretty pretty please???

i shouldn't answer this because i've gotten a few really good juicy asks lately, including a fun one about some song lyrics, and one about the shameless au, and I WILL be answering them when i have half a brain again. i'm SO tired and worn out that my brain feels like a stupid noodle lately.

but i will tell you about syracuse, which is the joint property of myself and @longnationalnightmare. it's a sprawling au which we have discussed 10000000 times and each time it's slightly different and stings in a slightly different way. immersing yourself in syracuse is the most perfect example of cheesegratering. you should only do it when you wanna hurt your own feelings and then cry about it for fifteen years.

lea, get to the point I'M TRYING MY BRAIN IS BROKE.

okay so generally the syracuse imagine goes like this--the fic opens on the most miserable dustin you've ever imagined. please imagine a miserable dustin and make him 8 times more miserable. he's sleeping on the living room couch, and drinking too much and he's as angry as a bear. you, the reader, have no idea what the fuck he's angry about. he goes to tv, and he's an awful angry bear to greg who is visibly trying to stay cool and not raise to the bait. someone they know but who's not part of their circle comes by and says cheerfully, "where's jim?" and dustin borderline attacks them, and greg has to intervene. greg's really convinced dustin's gonna get fired and he's not in a place in his life where he can break in a new tag partner. dustin growls something shitty and stalks back to the hotel.

misery stew. misery stew!! the MOST misery stew montage interlude anyone's ever experienced!! you, the reader still do not understand! you don't know! you're not being told!!

dustin goes back to philly. he lets himself into the apartment (miserably), putters around a little bit. opens the mail, tosses most of it. throws out the takeout that's gone bad in the fridge. then he grabs his bag and brings it upstairs, and as he's passing one closed door on the left, he pauses for one (miserable) second. then, all at once, he opens the door, and steps in. it's a clean, empty bedroom. there's nothing in it except a bed on a bare bed frame in the corner. it's' just a bare mattress. on the mattress is a note. dustin doesn't look surprised to see it, he's seen it before. he just stares at it blankly. it says "take care of yourself. please don't dustin about this. -jim"

then dustin stalks out, slamming the door behind him and goes to play 9 hours of resident evil while drinking whiskey, first from a glass, and eventually just from the bottle.

the fic then goes on--obviously, like all great imagines, the middle part is pretty hazy. longnationalnightmare and i love to kind of skip over the beginning and the end. but it's a work-backwards story--dustin becomes convinced that jim had to have had a conversation with someone and that's what set him off. that's what made it leave. people don't just get up and leave one day. something had to have happened.

so then he's haunting all of he and jim's places, talking to he and jim's friends. talking to people at tv. getting so frustrated that he wants to scream.

and during this time he does work it out. and the answer is that of course it was dustin that happened. dustin set him off. jim got sick of wanting dustin and waiting for dustin and somehow, he came to dustin and said "aren't you tired yet?" and dustin pretended he didn't know what jim meant and laughed it off and that's when jim decided to leave. it didn't happen overnight or even right away, but that was the first time jim thought "i gotta have some fucking self respect."

so then you have a montage of dustin dealing with THAT, and ARGUING with himself and with an imaginary jim and trying to fight it out and what he keeps coming back to is--he should be having this fight with jim. jim should have had it OUT with him. jim fucking LEFT? jim just LEFT? that's not what they do! that's not how they WORK. if jim had a PROBLEM with something dustin was doing, it's literally his fucking responsibility to fight with dustin about it.

so he manages to get jim's address from someone. he borderline has to bully it out of whoever it is--bryce or someone. jim's moved to fucking SYRACUSE? almost in a fugue state, dustin gets into his car, and starts driving. he drives all the way from philly to syracuse. no radio. barely aware of the road. still having this FIGHT in his head with an imaginary jim. honing his points. extremely angry and feeling possessed.

and then he roars into town at some psycho hour. like 7am on a sunday or some shit. jim's house is kind of shitty, actually. like, it's fine, but it's pretty dated. there's a dumpster in the driveway, and a tarp with random pieces of rotted wood on the side of the house. dustin barely notices. he knocks on the door, and then starts pounding.

jim finally opens the door, and he's in a thin t-shirt and sleep pants and he's bleary eyed and fuzzy and he's like dustin? and dustin bullies his way into the house, and is like "you just fucking left? you left? your house looks like shit, by the way."

"i'm flipping it," jim says. "what are you doing here?"

"oh you're a flipper now?" dustin says. "is that your new personality now? you quit wrestling and move up to syracuse to be come a fucking weirdo house flipper? how do you even know what you're doing?"

"i worked in construction for eight years," jim says, bewildered. then, again, "what are you doing here?"

"we're gonna have it out," dustin says grimly. "you owe me that." and that's syracuse baby!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

[reptilian-rapscallian]

So one of my favourite trans tiktokers recently said he hated marauders fans because they’ve changed the story and characters so much that they may as well just create OCs so that they aren’t using JKR’s creations.

As an avid marauders fan and non binary person with too much of an opinion to express in a comment section, here’s my two cents on the matter.

Firstly, the majority of marauders fans I know are trans. This isn’t an over exaggeration, literally every marauders fan I know in person is trans. Every single one. And the rest that I know online are queer. We all felt betrayed and hurt and angry with JKR (I still am, I’ve literally called her she who must not be named -and much worse- on here before) and we don’t like her or any of her views. I’m not sure where this idea came from, but I can promise we do the opposite of endorse her. I’m pretty much every fic I’ve ever read, the notes at the start say they are disgusted by JKR’s views.

Secondly, the characters can’t become OCs because of their connection to the magical world/their canonical storylines.

The amount of muggle au/non canon compliant au’s where people use the nicknames Moony, Wormtail, Padfoot and Prongs, or where someone makes fun of Remus’ name essentially just being wolf wolf, or there’s a subtle nod to some of the events that we know from their childhoods (like a reference to Snape, etc). Taking away the characters and the context of the characters completely destroys all of this, which is so comforting to so many people.

Also, so many of us are autistic/neurodivergent in some ways, and are hyperfixated/it is their special interest. How do you expect us to stop that at the drop of a hat because some woman who’s hardly connected to our fandom anymore is a TERF?

People don’t seem to have a problem with headcanons for any other characters, but marauders? Nope, no way, not happening.

I have been a part of some incredibly important conversations about inclusivity, racism, homophobia, transphobia, and ableism within fandoms and fanfic because of the marauders fandom, with some people I really respect and appreciate.

These characters and the way they’ve developed using canonical information is so important, and they’ve become real comfort characters for both me and so many other people. Writing/reading specific fanfics can be so cathartic, and can really help people work through things they need to.

In short, let people enjoy things, we’re not hurting anyone by writing fanfic and sharing it around other marauders fans.

[by-glass-and-waves]

I like the idea of each of my three AU/fanfic ideas having a slightly different Narinder, slightly different Lamb(?)

or at least I hope they're distinct enough, Depression Quest and Courtship Lamb may be similar, but it doesn't make sense for moody trainwreck Courtship!Narinder to swap with dumbass trainwreck Restart!Narinder. Maybe he could switch with Restart!TOWW lmao

I'm gonna write some notes - which might change - on the pair/story for each AU because god knows if/when I'll actually write Depression Quest or Restart, at least we have some shitty doodles right

i promise i am working on Courtship i have done the Spongebob

THE

so far

... actually I'm nervous posting this fml sorry guys who are looking for delicious Courtship/Restart goodies

spoilers ahead for my Depression Quest AU/fic/whatever it is if spoilers for a nonexistent work matter to youwu. I'll blob a hopefully readable version of what story beats I had and link the two posts whenever it happens

ALSO CONTENT/TRIGGER WARNING SI/HI/THOUGHTS+ACTIONS OF HARMING SELF AND OTHERS/DEPRESSION

Depression Quest:

Lamb (she/they, mostly they)

poor babby beat down by the world and killed by the Bishops

gets the Red Crown and starts mowing them down with glee

they're a good leader, they're saving the Lands of the Old Faith from the Bishops, the Cult loves them

and it looks like The One Who Waits is as just as shitty as the others, can't have that, they are way better than he could ever be

so maybe they get a little too power happy and go a little too hard on the whole heroic leader thing

when he is conquered, TOWW is seen as nothing more than a trophy, a piece of property just like the Crowns surrounding his house

they act merciful, but Narinder knows it's just to make him submit, knows that they're just as power-hungry as he was

they let him run away because they'll always know where he is, and they want to see what happens/how long it takes before he crawls back to them

Narinder

finally gets revengeance on his family who threw him in jail, gets released from his prison just to get beat up and thrown into a gilded cage

he is depressed. he is angry. he has nothing left

I'm talking SI/HI, self-harm, screaming and breaking things, pushing Baal and Aym away, and crying on the floor breakdown shit

resists for a long time but eventually starts integrating into the Cult, only to get betrayed by a jealous follower

Narinder has a breakdown because he was stupid enough to think things would be better, so he runs away from the Cult

he encounters Ratoo and they bond over loss :'( but just like Ratoo, he never quite gets over things :(((((((

Ratoo might be the only person he'd call a friend/someone he trusts

addendum: narinder's third eye: he keeps it closed like in canon but technically he can open it, just really difficult and it fucking hurts to do it anyway

over time he gets a little strength to open it for short amounts of time but it still hurt

there's a few times when he gets angried or whatever when he accidentally attempts to open it and he goes OH FUCK OW and maybe it'll set his head straight

Depression Quest may have a bittersweet ending in which the Bishops return and were able to Get Over It™ in the Afterlife due to their actual support network, but I don't know tbh

I do know if they did return/if Narinder meets them again somehow, it'd just be like, sad, guarded, they'll reconcile but it's not the same kind of relationship deal

When I first came up with Depression Quest in September I was like, maybe Lamb is just protecting the baby and won't push him or anything because they love him and stuff

then as time passed I was like okay that's complete and utter bullshit and besides, Narinder is so consumed with his losses there is no way he could into a relationship in the near future. Sometimes people just can't move on :(

I also don't know how the Narinder/Ratoo friendshit even happened guys, it was just the idea of Narinder walking into Ratoo's heart pond and going "what the fuck are you doing" and things went from there

[hewashalfofmysoul3]

fic prompts based on lyrics currently in my head:

• "no matter where we are, we're always touching by underground wires" - fate, connection, reconciliation, confession

• "I still can't forget the way you looked, on that last day" - missing someone, grieving a loss, remembering a trauma

• "if we've gotta burn out, let's go it together" - with you til the end of the world, facing the enemy together, mutual destruction

ENJOY WRITING PAIN FRIEND

All of the shit I wrote last night got deleted, trying this again:'")

Thank you sm for these beautiful prompts!! I won't let u down my friend!!!!!

1

"no matter where we are, we're always touching by underground wires."

When Spock came to this new universe, it was a very strange experience. Everything was so much different yet the same, and meeting his alternate friends and counterpart was also the same. Meeting them was overwhelming, to say the least, especially James T. Kirk.

He was so much like his Jim, yet so different. From his blue eyes and bright blonde hair, he was so far from his Jim, with his hazel eyes and brown hair. But he had fiery courage and a heart of steel, a true mark of a Kirk.

And meeting his counterpart Spock was strangest of all. He was fiery too, and angry, and hard working and he felt emotions so raw and strong he fought the hardest to hide them. He was much like himself, almost too much like himself.

He remembers being young, and the constant feelings running through his veins, the over-working drive he had to prove himself, prove he was Vulcan enough, that hecan be just as good and worthy as any of them.

He has no idea now how he must feel, after Vulcan's destruction, but he can sympathize. He has a feeling that those raw emotions that plague (bless) Spock's blood must be stronger than ever.

Watching him, and watching him interact with his Jim makes him miss his Jim more everyday.

He passed, so long ago. His Vulcan blood was always hanging over their heads for the inevitability that "he will leave me, and I will be alone again" because of their different life spans. And when he passed, even with the foreknowledge of the century Spock is to live past Jim, even though he knew from the beginning Jim will only be a small chapter of Spock's life, he crumbled, he fell and a part of him died with him.

He never recovered, who could recover after a love so intense and a life so full with your one true love?

But, being able to watch his life (well, not exactly. So many things are changed.) and his life with Jim again is a blessing, if he believed in such things.

It made his heart so full, to watch them grow and learn to love each other, shaky and sooner than him and his Jim did but all the same.

Just the other day, alternate Jim came to him asking what his favorite flower was because "Spock won't give me a straight answer and you're the same person so.." and he nearly wept with joy.

It reminded him too well of a song Jim use to sing in the morning, something along the lines of "we're always touching by underground wires." a huge reminder of the ritual words they repeated over and over again, every night.

It gave him so much hope, that in all universes they existed in, they were still together. T'hy'la.

2

"I still can't forget the way you looked, on that last day."

"I still can't forget the way you looked," he whispered. "On that last day."

Sherlock turned his head to look at him. "Me either."

It was one of those nights, where neither of them could sleep and they talked about the many things they wanted to say. The first night there were apologies and crying and kissing, the second night was talking about the first night, and talking about taking things slow. They couldn't go too fast, shouldn't, not after everything. John was still getting over the fall, and Mary and her lies (he was going to be a father. He was going to be a father but she lied even of that so he wouldn't leave her.) And her death, and Sherlock was still getting over his time away and what John did to him on the Culverton case.

So, things were slow, very slow (they had yet to kiss again, slow) and it was one of those nights. The topic of tonight was the fated day their lives changed forever.

"it was terrifying, you were-" John wiped his eyes and gasped from choked tears. "Y-you were too convincing, Sherlock." He sniffed.

"would you believe me if I told you I did acting school for a year back in my uni days?" Sherlock asked, trying to lighten the mood. It worked, if only marginally, but it worked.

John huffed, his laugh watery, "I would, you fucking wanker," then he huffed in annoyance. "Lift your legs, I'm getting cold."

That's another thing. One night John woke up from nightmares and Sherlock stayed up with him and drank tea, talking about it (John had made the habit of talking about the nightmares instead of bottling that fear up to overflow and turn into anger. It worked, John hasn't yelled or hit anything or anyone in a while). They both got tired, and just as Sherlock was going to bed John had stopped him. Had touched his arm to get his attention, the first time he's touched him since the first night.

"Can.. can I sleep in your bed tonight?" He was so innocent, so pure and tragic. He didn't have the pride of a man or the strength of a soldier in that moment, he was just a boy. Sherlock couldn't refuse him.

They both slept a good ten hours that night(day?).

After that, their special One-of-those nights almost entirely moved to Sherlock's bedroom.

So, Sherlock did what he was asked and moved his legs, and both of them got under his comforter. John turned to his side facing Sherlock, his eyes closed.

Sherlock turned to face him, mirroring his position, and sighed. "I can't forget that day, either." Sherlock lifted his hand tentatively to John's cheek, rubbing under his eyes, waterfalls that they are. "Watching you realize the fact I was dead, the way you looked made me want to call it all off and hold you against me and will all of the pain away, tell you that everything was going to be okay, but knew I couldn't.

"You don't understand how much it hurt- maybe you do, maybe you understand all too well that feeling, and even though it's morbid it makes me feel like those years away meant something because I wasn't alone in my pain. Knowing that me being gone hurt you so much made me know it was worth it to see you again, John, to live to see another day where you might be there." John's eyes opened, so wet and shiny and Sherlock thinks he might've said the wrong thing, but he can't stop now, not without saying what he needs to say.

"You kept me alive, John, you helped me when the nights were cold and the stitches came undone, the idea of seeing you again kept me going. I love you, John, so much."

John sniffed. "I know that, Sherlock, I know you love me. How could I not, after everything? You sacrificed so much-" John snapped his hand up, and gripped Sherlock's hand on his like a lifeline. "And I have so much regret, but all of that's behind us. You're here, you're alive, my wish came true, and I.."

Sherlock rubbed John's fingers. "You- you don't have to say it."

"yes, I do." John sniffed, and there was silence between them for a century, or two minutes he can't tell, and John took a deep breath. "words can't describe how much I love you, Sherlock. There's no way I can tell you the extent of my love, or how much I have of it for you. We'll never forget, we'll hold these terrible things with us for the rest of our lives, but I love you so much more than I can say and the idea is that it will outlive us."

Sherlock couldn't reply, he couldn't function after such a confession, and resisted the urge to just blink at John.

"Can I kiss you?"

"Oh God, yes."

3

"if we're gonna burn out, let's do it together."

Genesis. A miracle, and a disaster. The planet where life was made and taken, and Jim clutches Spock to himself like a lifeline.

The Enterprise, his son, all gone, but he has Spock back, oh Spock.

The journey he took, the laws he's broken, he would do it all again to be with Spock again.

But all of it will be for nothing if Genesis will burn, and they can't get beamed up-

"well," Jim mumbled into his loves hair. "If we burn, we'll do it together."

End Notes

Thank you so much for the prompts Onyx!!! They rlly cheered me up to write! The first and last one are short, but the second one I hope you enjoy! (I may love angst but I can't write it for the life of me:'))

I literally wrote the first and half of the second one and Tumblr didn't do the auto draft and it all was lost so:') this morning was busy.

If anyone else has any prompt ideas, pls share(and take a leaf out of Onyx's book and totally show song lyrics of u want!!!)

Live long and prosper 🖖