#that was definitely a mile stone for me as a writer

[arkhaline]

My Complete Thoughts on RvB: Restoration

Major spoilers for the entire season below the cut!

I think the biggest sin of this season was not clarifying when it takes place, as it cheapened a lot of the twists by genuinely confusing me or contrasting information that we had already been given in S15-S18. Keep this in mind for the rest of the review.

Maybe the allusion to Caboose’s voice being “misremembered” was confirmation that it was in fact a simulation post-S13, but it still wasn’t super clear to me. Especially since Dylan was talking about the Reds and Blues (even though I know they met post-S10), which kinda made it feel like Restoration could be post-S18 (unless that was the point). There was just enough ambiguity that it really could have gone either way for most of the movie.

I feel like the humor was a bit off?? Maybe it was a generational gap since the show was going back to someone who hasn’t written for it in a while and is older than the current writers (case in point: he used tropes that Gen Z makes fun of a lot, e.g. he’s right behind me isn’t he). The Zoom call bit also went on WAY too long. The metacommentary about the changing attitudes toward RT also felt a bit tone deaf. In general, a lot of the trademark RvB banter just felt stale, it was the more general dialogue that was stronger (though Church telling Caboose to shut up when Simmons was talking did make me laugh).

Also, Grif was so angry all the time at the beginning?? Felt out of character and took me out of those early scenes. Maybe it was a setup for the whole discharge subplot but it just felt… off

The writing was just a bit clunky at the beginning, felt very direct and exposition-y, but that might be because they had so much to cover in so little time. It resolved itself later, anyway (except for the rapid fire ending, there was so much to unpack there).

Alright enough complaining about the general format, here are my more detailed thoughts.

Sheila!!! That is all.

I can excuse Caboose secretly speaking Spanish the whole time because there was a bit in S16 (maybe 17? can’t remember) where he understands something that Lopez said.

I initially completely missed the fact that the Meta’s color scheme was an allusion to Felix, that is so fucked up. Tucker dressed in the colors of the man he hates the most about to kill his closest friends? Jesus.

The Director being Epsilon’s therapist in the YouTube video made me laugh really hard.

Speaking of therapists, Wash was patient 619-B and I think that was the Counselor’s voice. Is the implication that he survived in this timeline?? Because he died before Epsilon fractured himself, so that much should at least be set in stone. Not really clear on that.

The “Great Destroyer” thing felt a bit retcon-y, but I can get behind it well enough.

I got so excited when 479er showed up, glad that we got confirmation that she made it out of Recovery okay. Wish we could’ve seen her and Wash (and Carolina) interact though.

I wish they had done Sarge’s death a bit differently. Kinda wish he hadn’t been all “that worked out well!” only to be stabbed, it felt very “he’s right behind me isn’t he” and made the fact that he was about to be stabbed obvious from a million miles away. There’s definitely something to be said about him sacrificing himself for a blue, and the deathbed interactions he had with the others were really good, but it kinda just felt like shock value?? Like there wasn’t enough build up to the payoff, it just kinda seemed like he decided to save Caboose last minute without any major character motivations or development behind the decision.

Which is another thing, it felt like it relied a LOT on Red vs. Blue dynamics in the beginning, and I was fucking flabbergasted when they actually left Caboose behind. The same people who broke time to save Wash would just leave Caboose to die like that? No way.

Meta!Tucker felt like it wasn’t explored enough, mostly just “no I won’t do your bidding” and “yes you will” back and forth with no real depth. However, credit where credit is due, I LOVED how this gave us a new perspective to Maine’s descent into madness. That ten-years-of-torture-in-a-few-seconds thing? So fucked up. Can you imagine being tortured by the remnants of your best friend, who have zero regard for your well-being? If they did all of that to Tucker in the short time they were together, just imagine what they did to Maine to get him to the point he was at at the end of S10/by Recollection.

Bonus points for the fact that the fragments tortured Tucker without a second thought when they themselves are a result of torture. They seemed to spare no empathy for Tucker despite having been through this themselves. Then again, I suppose they are they are copies of the original Leonard Church, who had no such qualms.

Didn’t realize that Meta!Tucker was voiced by Miles Luna (aka Felix’s voice actor) until the credits, that was an extra layer of fucked up and I loved it.

I really enjoyed Wash’s plot for the most part. I was definitely super intrigued the whole time since so much of his subplot didn’t add up from his perspective. I mean, I think he deserved something more for a send-off since most of his arc wasn’t really related to his character as a whole (besides the freelancer thing at the end). However, I still enjoyed it for what it was worth.

Additionally, if this is post-S13, I wish they’d clarified because I assumed that Wash was suffering from cerebral hypoxia and not some other injury. They kept alluding to something that happened on Chorus, but I wasn’t clear on the fact that it was a separate timeline of events. The Doc plot twist threw me off a lot more as a result.

I could tell he was gonna launch himself off the cliff and it still made me laugh hysterically.

I’m glad that the final battle was in Blood Gulch. It’s cliché, but it felt full-circle. Plus, it was the best resting place for Sarge in canon and a good set-up for a “why were we here” moment.

I knew Simmons was gonna have his arm broken but I still gasped anyway. And when the shotgun was cut in half??? Bro my jaw was on the floor, it was like when John Wick’s dog was killed (probably, I’ve never seen that movie). But the way Simmons cocked the shotgun with one hand was badass as hell, good for him.

I’m glad we got something resembling a Simmons character arc? I think it relied a lot on setup from previous seasons of him becoming a leader, with little to no actual development in S19 itself, but it still felt at least decently satisfying.

“Best throw ever. Of all time” made me laugh, I love a good callback. Actually, there were a lot of fun callbacks to jokes, like the irony bit. They were greatly appreciated.

Tucker getting launched by a warthog actually made me laugh really hard, I love the “shotgun as a code word” bit so much.

The Tex plot twist was SO GOOD, I totally didn’t see it coming. Much better direction to go anyway, since we already put Church to rest in S15. So glad that Caboose was able to get his moment in the spotlight and have the smartest plan of all of them. Unless it was Church’s plan, in which case I find it so sweet that he wanted to bring Tex back instead of himself (even if it did cheapen the S9 “let her go” thing a bit). I also really loved the callback where her armor turned black because of the teleporter, that was really good.

I got so excited when they started playing Round One I’ll be honest. Also, I Say Ooh?? Was not expecting that one.

In all honesty, I didn’t love the soundtrack (kinda felt stock music-y and cliché in a lot of parts, plus it didn’t have the musical style that we’ve come to expect from RvB). It was fine, but nothing to write home about. The campfire song was good too. I know about the whole thing where Trocadero wouldn’t join on unless everyone was brought back on, and now that we know that RT is shutting down, it’s possible that this was because multiple musical artists just weren’t in the budget. That said, it’s a shame that there weren’t more original songs.

I called that Carolina was gonna be Recovery (though now I think about it, why was she doing Recovery?? was it even Recovery since Charon had been shut down??? What happened to her after Chorus???? Also her talking about how her and Wash would do everything together from now on meanwhile she left him behind in some hospital?????). Anyway, the fight with her and Tex was SO fan service-y but I ate it up anyway, good for them.

Tex winning because she was a collection of the Reds and Blues’ memories and she always won against them was so, so good, something to be said about the positive nature of the memories of your friends (I mean just look at how happy they had been when recounting everything they’d been through!)

Also if just talking about someone was enough to create a functional AI, it kinda makes the whole “torturing Alpha to make more AI” thing totally pointless and retcons the entire show but. Whatever.

TEX DESERVED THIS ENDING!! I like the S9 ending in a lot of ways, it was poetic that she was finally allowed to rest after being dragged back so many times against her will, but I think it also felt incomplete because I don’t know if being put to rest was what Tex herself would actually want. There is a significant difference between not electing to bring her back again and choosing to take her out of the fight. Tex was never allowed to make her own decisions, not even in S9. This ending was entirely on her terms, which I think was fantastic.

I loved the rockslide, it reminded me a lot of the ice fight from S8 was just generally very fun.

It’s established that Tucker became the Meta because he had several AI when just two was enough to almost kill Carolina. If this isn’t the canon timeline, then why didn’t Tucker become the Meta in that one? For a reason besides “the writers didn’t think of it”.

I hope that Burnie came up with the idea for this season by reading Meta!Tucker fan fiction.

The Doc thing was so??? Why did they do a Sixth Sense. Like I think that twist would have worked a LOT better if they made it clearer when this took place (I kept flip flopping on whether this was an alternate timeline post-S13 or main timeline post-S18 up until this point, which made the whole Doc-died-on-Chorus thing feel like it came out of nowhere since, if it was post-S18, we knew that Doc survived Chorus. It also makes Epsilon’s sacrifice to get them all out of there feel a bit cheaper since they didn’t all get out of there, but maybe that suggests that S15-S18 are the main timeline).

How did Doc heal Wash’s leg?? Was it even broken in the first place??? Did they ever clarify that????

I GASPED when the Freelancers showed up. It was camp as hell and hard to take seriously but also I don’t even care. I’m glad he got some kind of goodbye, since he was always too late to do so as a Recovery agent.

Kinda funny that Wyoming wasn’t there but Florida was, and also South was there even though Wash murdered her in cold blood. Anyway.

When One showed up I felt every emotion I think

Bro where the hell was Donut? There was no good reason for him not to at least show up, maybe on the pelican with One or something. Especially since S16 and S17 were dedicated to an entire arc about how everyone should stop disrespecting Donut, like come on.

Edit: did a little research and it might be because there’s no pink armor in the game this season was filmed in? Which is so hard to believe, since Halo has so many references to RvB. I can’t believe they would just cut out the armor colors of one of the main characters and make it impossible for him to return in the way we know him, it’s messed up.

I know time was short, but I wish we had more time to explore Tucker’s feelings post-Meta. Especially since he killed Sarge, even though it definitely wasn’t his fault. There probably wasn’t enough time to get into all that, but still, he seemed remarkably fine after everything that had happened. I guess that kind of exploration is what AO3 is for lol.

I have mixed feelings about the end for Tex and Church. On one hand, Tex calling herself Allison Church was so sweet and I loved how caring she was, it reminded me of when she said goodbye to Alpha during the Freelancer saga. Also, the fact that there was finally a Church free of the memories of his predecessors felt very satisfying. However, I kind of wish that they could have just had their happily ever after and stayed in the memory unit. I understand the decision—destroying the remaining AI was really the best way to make sure Project Freelancer was put to rest forever—but I kinda feel like she and Church deserved better than simply being put down after everything they’d been through.

One final team kill for Caboose. Ow.

The animation was really, really good!! It looked much better than that plasticky look the trailer had. I didn’t love Epsilon’s animations (they felt a bit jerky and overacted), but otherwise I think they did a really great job. I especially loved how they animated the AI on Tucker’s visor, it looked cool as hell.

I think one of the things this season suffered from was the overall tonal shift in the writing. Burnie hadn’t written for, and Matt hadn’t solely directed, a season in a LONG time. We’ve come to expect more character-focused narratives that dive into the nuisances of the characters and their relationships, and we didn’t really get that here (unless you count Sarge’s deathbed confession to Grif that he was hard on him because he wanted him to be more, which still felt a bit shallow. Actually, there are lot of things which could be considered set-ups in retrospect, but their intended payoffs didn’t feel like payoffs). I think there was a consequential whiplash as compared to what we have come to expect from RvB, and while the writing style we got wasn’t inherently bad (again, I liked a lot of it), it was definitely different.

I really, really hated that Grif left at the end. That’s literally the antithesis of his S15 arc, which felt much more complete and true to the character than this one. It’s impossible not to compare these arcs because of how inherently similar they are, and because I believe the S15 arc is superior (Grif’s exhaustion was a more subtle and believable reaction than this Grif’s raw anger, and his realization of how much he relied on his team was much more powerful than this Grif just tapping out), it makes the S19 Grif arc feel poorly thought out.

Also, he wanted to be discharged, but I don’t think they worked for the UNSC or any other military organization after Chorus since they all retired, so was any of that really necessary? Maybe retirement is just a vessel, so to speak, to represent Grif leaving adventure behind him for good. Still, I liked the way S15 handled this arc a lot more.

Vale Deah. Ow.

NO GRIMMONS??? ARE YOU FUCKING KIDDING ME???

The most we got was Grif leaving and asking Simmons to come with him but like. “not scared to take risks my ass”, Burnie.

Honestly, I think this season was a victim of its format. Eighty minutes isn’t a lot of time to properly send off these characters, especially when RvB as a format is based on multi-season arcs. There just wasn’t enough time to build up tension or explore the dynamics of something as extreme as Meta!Tucker in a way that would feel satisfying. That said, I think Burnie did a pretty good job fitting as many things as he did into this format. A part of me is almost glad that Grimmons wasn’t made canon? I feel like it might’ve felt rushed to give it a satisfying arc in just 80 minutes in addition to all of the other shit going on, and I think after 21 years they deserved at least a satisfying resolution. However, they did NOT deserve an ending which implied that they would never see each other again, what the fuck.

TL;DR? 7.5/10. Far from perfect, and there were a lot of creative decisions made that I heavily disagree with. However, they did a lot right, too, and it still seems heartfelt in a way that helps me overlook some of its flaws. Overall, I enjoyed this season for what it was worth. There are some qualities of S17 that I think made for a better final goodbye to these characters, and some qualities of S19 that I think made for a better goodbye (in all honesty I never finished S18, but it wasn’t really a “goodbye” season anyway). Wrapping up a 21-year-old series is very difficult, and I have a lot of respect for Burnie and the others who worked on Restoration for what they put together. Truthfully, I’m gonna pick and choose which segments of S17 and S19 are canon in my heart (S17 is still the overall canon ending for me), but I’m happy with what we got in the end.

Anyways, I’m happy to chat more in the replies, let me know your thoughts!

[rappaccini]

Why do you think that Silk and Gwen are going to be a couple in the game?

alright here's the thing. i don't think they will be. i'm hoping they will be.

hear me out:

insomniac has already confirmed that gwen stacy exists in the insomniacverse, is alive, and has never met peter.

gwen exists, and is still alive in the present timeline. which means they either intend to use her at some point in the future, or they want to leave the door open for that possibility.

gwen has no platonic history with peter parker. which means the door's open for her to be introduced as a part of another character's supporting cast.

gwen has no romantic history with peter parker. and since he and mj are pretty set in stone at this point, that means the door's open for her to be with someone else.

2. insomniac knows about spider-gwen and at one point had plans to put her in the games.

yes, the multiplayer spiderverse game concept with her as a lead character was scrapped.

but they know there's a gwen stacy with spider powers. they know she's a rock musician. they might know some other things about her too, like that ghost-spider is queer.

and depending on how developed that concept was before it's scrapped, they might have models of gwen already created. we definitely know they have concept art of her because we've seen it. maybe they could still put those to use.

but we almost certainly would not be getting spider-gwen. that would take the spotlight away from cindy. we'd be getting a civilian gwen (or a wild reinterpretation of her a la harry being venom or phin mason being the tinkerer, which can't be speculated on because we have no proof that it'd happen).

3. insomniac has created the perfect opportunity to introduce gwen in ism3.

this is the first and only time miles has been interested in music production. i guess it makes for more dynamic minigames, and his character's so early in his history that as they were developing him, certain aspects of his story were still being figured out (his stem path has always been math, but he's a writer in the comics, a producer in the games, and an artist in the movies). but the point is: he's about to go to college for music production.

you know who else is into music? spider-gwen.

you know who knows spider-gwen is a musician and at one point had plans to put a version of her in a game? insomniac.

gwen stacy already has a history of being introduced as spider-man's classmate. in the comics, as peter's empire state study partner. and in the spiderverse movies, as miles's visions classmate.

4. miles already has a girlfriend.

this girlfriend, hailey cooper, is an original creation of insomniac's. and the studio clearly loves her. they wouldn't have put so much care into her characterization and subplot if they were just going to throw her away, and she is being intentionally set up as miles's mj.

she's the girl who chooses a similar career path as he does (mj's a journalist to peter's photographer; hailey's the artist to miles's producer).

she knows his secret identity and is supporting him. (as early as mm, she's protecting him from being exposed, and she's someone he confides in in ism2.)

she's the love interest in his civilian friend trio (miles-hailey-ganke = peter-mj-harry)

she gets playable time in the game.

miles and hailey's relationship had two games' worth of buildup, and they only just got together at the very end of ism2. it would be a waste to suddenly break them up right after we saw them become a couple for a new girl who's never been in the story until now.

if gwen is in ism3, it's more likely that she won't be miles's love interest than that she will. it would be just as weird as gwen dating peter out of nowhere.

5. insomniac's been surprisingly great with representation

their depiction of characters of color has been solid-- both side characters and miles. they immediately acted on letting miles become spider-man, gave him a whole game all about his origin story where he doesn't play second fiddle to peter at all, and ism2 let miles be equal to peter in their relationship and the narrative itself in a way no other version of their relationship has matched.

their depiction of female characters is excellent. mj, aunt may, black cat, yuri, hailey, phin and rio are all written and animated with dignity and complexity. we've had girlfriends, ex-girlfriends, mother figures, friends, acquaintances, anti-heroes and villains. a female hero being revealed as the new co-protagonist of the third game was the logical next step... and they actually did it.

they even gave miles a black disabled girlfriend whose deafness isn't the most important thing about her, incorporated her disability into her side mission, and spent two games getting them together. who the hell saw that coming?!

they've also been good with their queer rep. we've had spider-man doing a side-mission where he helps a gay promposal. we've had black cat being explicitly confirmed as bi, and that she has a girlfriend. the logical next step is adding a queer person to the main ensemble.

6. insomniac likes reinterpreting canon to improve the narratives they want to tell

in spider-man, they made a doc ock storyline far more emotional than anyone expected. and they ended by revealing that miles is becoming a spider-man.

in miles morales, miles gets an origin story where peter isn't stealing his thunder at all, we're totally immersed in his supporting cast and community, and his antagonist is a genderbent racebent reinterpretation of the tinkerer whose relationship with miles is a mix of the liz allan, gwen stacy and felicia hardy dynamics-- and therefore they have a fresh original dynamic that's unique to miles-- who dies without being fridged and has a best-of-enemies redemption twist at the end.

they took the best bits of best of enemies, kraven's last hunt, and the black suit arc and made something genuinely fresh and exciting out of it for ism2.

when everyone assumed miles was going to date gwen, insomniac decided to create an original love interest for miles who's a black deaf girl, and double down on her by giving hailey a full subplot with a playable section that's all hers, and even incorporates her disability, in ism2.

when everyone assumed that if ism3 was going to introduce a female spider-hero, that it would be gwen, they made it cindy instead.

they're already reworking cindy's origin story to make her miles's stepsister. cindy moon's mother and brother are being reworked in ism into her stepmother and stepbrother.

what else might they change?

7. insomniac needs to protect cindy from being sexualized

people have a knee-jerk negative reaction to cindy because of just how hated her origin story is. we do not want to see peter and cindy go into a misogynistic, orientalist pheromone-induced sex frenzy.

remember all those 'keep her away from peter' comments when cindy was revealed? they were about that. it's been ten years and we're still grossed out.

insomniac doesn't seem likely to go that route because their track record with female characters and characters of color has been pretty good.

they're already making changes that look like they're to protect her from that plotline and reassure the audience that they won't do it: cindy seems like she's going to be about miles's age instead of peter's, she's attached to his cast instead of peter's, and her dad's dating miles's mom so she automatically has a stepsibling relationship with him (and since peter's like a brother figure to miles, that may transfer to cindy too). if peter tries anything with her, it'll be gross. if miles tries anything with her, even grosser. years before the game's even out, insomniac's telling you "these characters are siblings."

you know what the next brick in the wall keeping cindy from being shipped with miles and peter is? making her uninterested in dating men at all

and one thing about cindy from the comics is that she's always had far more chemistry with women than men

especially felicia hardy... who exists in this universe, is canonically bisexual... and has left new york to be with her french girlfriend. so she's unavailable.

you know what would seal the deal? giving her a relationship people will be so excited about that they won't care the game isn't shipping her with one of the guys.

peter has a long-lasting committed partner in mj. miles has a new girlfriend in hailey. it would be stranger for cindy to be single than for her to get a love interest too.

and you know who also keeps getting oversexualized and forced into relationships with spider-men, who has a sapphic variant who insomniac definitely knows about and has created the perfect opportunity to introduce in ism3? gwen stacy.

(you know the best way to make it absolutely clear that they're not shipping gwen and miles, should gwen appear in ism3? friendzone, gayzone and stepbrozone him all at once by making her his sister's girlfriend. i don't doubt the gwileses will find a way to ship it anyway, but they'll be making clowns of themselves.)

8. what's the plot of insomniac spider-man 3 even going to entail?

aside from peter starting to settle down with mj and inevitably coming out of his extended break from being spider-man and miles going to college, dating hailey and having to figure out how to be The Main Spider-Man with his own new hero to mentor...

the introduction of cindy moon as a new hero and the green goblin as a new villain are the biggest story points.

yes, doc ock is coming back too, and carnage might show up. they're probably getting a sinister six-type lineup together for this one. but norman's going to be the main antagonist.

as the new co-lead, cindy needs to be the character who has the decisive hero moment during the climax, the same way miles did in ism2 when peter was indisposed.

and cindy needs a personal stake in defeating the green goblin. how's she going to get one if they've never interacted before? how's it going to match the personal history norman has with peter and miles? what could possibly give us that emotional investment?

what green goblin stories are getting adapted, and how might they be reinterpreted?

one of the most famous spider-man stories involving the green goblin is the death of gwen stacy.

and insomniac has hinted that they have plans for gwen. they've shown that they know about the variant of gwen who's a queer musician. they've created the perfect situation to introduce that kind of gwen variant into the story. they have both miles and peter in happy, well-established relationships with other women. they've already demonstrated a commitment to including well-developed marginalized characters and they step it up with each game. they've already shown that they like to take classic spider-man stories and reinterpret them from the ground-up. they're about to tell a story where cindy has to have the big hero moment, with a villain whose most infamous storyline's biggest emotional impact usually comes from gwen.

do you see it now?

anyway my dream is that miles meets gwen in music class at empire state, they hit it off and become friends, we think we're about to get a gwiles plotline, miles is stressing about how to turn this girl down because she keeps fucking showing up at his place (and met his mom? why would his study partner want to meet his mom?), but then he walks in on her and cindy making out and it turns out she's been trying to get close to his sister the whole time, and literally everyone knew it except miles because he just had broken gaydar. cue miles never living that down. and then cindy beats the g-serum out of norman when he threatens her girlfriend. gwen stacy usually gets a boyfriend and dies, but in this timeline she has a girlfriend and lives. something like that.

i don't expect it to happen. i'm just saying it would be great.

[smolvenger]

I Say Nothing That Frightens Me, Part One

Pairing: Loki x fem! Reader

Summary: As a young Asgardian, you have grown to be friends and secretly pine for the younger Prince Loki. After his fury has sent him off to put himself in danger, his mother sends you on a quest to find him and bring him home. Your quest makes you cross paths with a mysterious group that calls themselves the TVA. There, your mischievous prince can be found. But it comes with a heartbreaking revelation. He loves another.

Warnings: angst a the end, mentions of Sylvie as a romantic love interest. This will be angsty (but have an eventual happy ending, so stay tuned!). Unrequited love and pining! Loki definitely isn't gonna return Reader's feelings!! hahahaha...unless...oop. ;)

Word Count: >3K

A03//My Ko-Fi//My Etsy Shop//Masterlist//Wattpad

A/N: Ah- the first fic I ever wrote for the big man himself- Loki! I realized I accidentally inspired this from Bizet's opera Carmen, minus the Punish The Woman ending and the cheating and sexism and antisemitism that can be prominent in the opera's plot, hence the title. I wrote it all the way in 2022 and realized I forgot to post it on Tumblr. For a while, it's been this one part because writer's block hit me early last year. I hope y'all like it and give it enough comments and kudos and responses so I can motivate myself to finish it. Send me good vibes to begin on part two! Enjoy!

Taglist: @jennyggggrrr @five-miles-over @fictive-sl0th @ladycamillewrites @villainousshakespeare @holdmytesseract @eleniblue @twhxhck @lokisgoodgirl @lovelysizzlingbluebird @raqnarokr @holymultiplefandomsbatman @michelleleewise @villainousshakespeare @lovelysizzlingbluebird

I say that nothing frightens me, I say alas that I answer for myself, But no matter how brave I am, At the back of the yard, I’m dying of terror Alone, in this wild place Alone, I’m afraid, But I’m wrong to be afraid, You will give me courage, You will protect me, Lord. (English Translation) - Henri Meilhac, from Bizet's opera, Carmen.

It had been a week and there was no sign of him. No word. Nothing. His father couldn’t care less. He kept on ruling Asguard as if everything was normal. As if the only disturbance was a teapot being knocked over in the kitchen. Something simple and easily fixed and none of his business.

That was not the case for his brother or his mother.

Or most especially for you.

Thor had already gone. And there was no exact contact but whispers. People were dying. There was some grand scheme. Something about even the Tesseract and the Infinity Stones. About Midgard and then the Universe being taken over and at the center of it was your close friend and companion, the missing prince.

You sat alone that morning in the garden, watching the fountain burble. Feeling the bit of breeze and the chirp of birds. It all seemed so beautiful and peaceful. You didn’t know if it was to comfort you or if it was mocking you for your inner turbulence. If only you weren’t so worried so you could enjoy it. You were so lost in thought that a sweet, low voice pulled you out of your head.

“How long have you been here?”

Jumping, you turned and stood up, dipping into a curtsy.

“A while, your highness!” you answered.

Looking up, Queen Frigga smiled. And you smiled back.

“It’s your usual spot, I know. Every other child was training with weapons and swords, but you would run here, crying…”

“If you recall, I kept losing. And I was terrified of getting stabbed.”

“And after you had your cry you came back, and kept on…” she finished, she took a hand to smooth the top of your head lovingly.

Your muscles ached on cue from the memory. Yes, you lost often training on how to fight. Seeing the other warriors glide their swords with ease and grow up to be the pride of the kingdom. You preferred regular studies with reading and culture, history and knowledge, and science. Practice battles often had you thrown to the ground in defeat. But at least when it came to a fight, you returned.

“I had to finish it, that was school after all. It’s how I grew up…” you recalled.

She took a hand to dip into the cool water, tracing a pattern followed by the fish inside.

“You’re worried about…” she started.

“Loki, yes. Is he behind this invasion?” you questioned.

“I don’t doubt it. Loki’s been too angry, too jealous, and without a good outlet. All of his life he kept it inside of himself and now that it’s released, it’s piled up from the years of silence. He’s letting it all out at once…” she said.

“He’s…he’s going to get hurt…” you observed worriedly. Mentioning him in this place made it sadder.

You recalled the day years ago. You ran into the garden at this fountain and accidentally happened upon the dark-haired prince reading. You profusely apologized, saying that you were sneaking out of training. And Loki said that he could help you. Then you asked what he was reading. And such began this friendship between the two of you. He gave you tricks about how to fight and confessed that he enjoyed theatre. You told him what your favorite foods at the feast were.

The memories of you too exchanging books and chatting about them between your classes did not stop in your adulthood. They made you happy, and lately even happier. Thoughts of him switched to private, intimate fantasies as you were alone in your room at night.

Now that he was gone, all that was left was a bittersweet tinge in the air.

“He doesn’t hurt himself when you’re around him…” Frigga commented.

“Excuse me?”

“You’re his friend…so save him. Take him off the ledge, find him…”

“But..but I thought Thor would find him!” you argued, standing up. Remembering your manners, you returned to sitting. This could be seen as an insult to the queen, but her arm dismissed the gesture.

She was different from her husband.

“He won’t listen to Thor. Loki’s always been jealous of him, there will be too much of a fight, too much scuffling. And me, I’m his mother but you…you’re his friend. I’ve seen it. He’s too jealous of Thor. He’s mad at his father, mad at me but……you’re different. You might be able to help him. Talk him out of it…” she instructed.

She put a hand on your shoulder, leaning forward, her eyes big and a little watery.

“Y/N, I charge you, as a queen…as a mother…find Loki, find my son…and bring him back…”

You touched the hand and looked up at her.

“If my queen commands, I will” you replied dutifully.

Although a secret part of you was relieved, thrilled. Not just for an adventure. But to find him.

The queen prepared you for your quest well. There was a special sword and a dagger just in case. You couldn’t use magic yourself, but you knew that you had some strength, and being Asgardian, whatever diseases you encountered would not bother you. As you gathered, with some slight armor over your clothes and bags with an extra set of clothes and rations that would satiate you until you found something more, she did something surprising.

On the hour of your departure, the queen gifted you with a beautiful sword- the hilt was bejeweled but all sides of it were still sharp to cut a foe to ribbons. You placed it in a sheath in a belt tied tight around your waist. She gathered your face in her hands and kissed her forehead.

“Thank you…”

“To tell you frankly, I wanted to…wanted to go…go see him…” you confessed.

She blinked and then smiled. No doubt she could tell you felt warmer mentioning that.

“Really?”

“I miss Loki…I miss him more than anything…” you confessed.

She smiled. “I miss him too.”

From under her long sleeve, she gave you a necklace. Nothing but a small string with a glowing blue crystal on it.

“This will take you anywhere on Midgard. But ask for Thor. If you find Thor, you might find him. Ask if there’s any trouble…that is his specialty," Frigga said.

“I promise…I will be back here with him alive and unharmed!" you vowed.

Clutching the necklace, you touched each other’s hands as a last goodbye.

The necklace glowed.

“Take me to Midgard, please," you guided it.

There was a flash of light. You felt a little heavy for a second. It was as if you were falling, but very still. When the light vanished, you saw that you had landed on a field. The wind blew through the grass as it bowed in return. A big red farmhouse stood quietly. An old man in his rocking chair stood up and squinted at you in surprise, hands on his hips.

Midgard was a large place. It was time to start looking.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

“He took the Tesseract and vanished” Thor explained.

“He did WHAT?” you shouted.

You could hardly believe the words coming through your ears. All those weeks. Searcing everything. The country took forever to get through. Eating grits, checking the news, and finding ways to get to New York City, the most likely place he would attack…and he had vanished.

“But I…I…where could he have gone?” you asked.

Thor shrugged “If I knew, I would have told you, Y/N…”

You wanted to kick something, to punch a wall. But you just leaned over the desk, your hands flat on it, and sighed deeply.

For a day, you let yourself sulk in the guest room. All of that traveling had wiped you out. You were so done. There were blisters on your feet and you could feel the grime from your smell. You spent your day bathing, wondering what on earth you could do now.

New York City was large, still reeling from its recent attack. But all in all, people seemed fine. Not too many casualties. Not zero, but not eighty. Wandering around the city, you wore a large hoodie and pants to cover your Asgardian traveling clothes. There were so many people, sights, and smells, it was dizzying.

Stomach gurgling, you wandered around. Midguardian food did not completely satiate you the way food back home did, but it was better than nothing. And it was a while since you ate, anyway.

Stopping inside, the doorbell rang. You ordered your food, chewing absent-mindedly on the crackers served right before. The wrappers crackled as you tossed them over your shoulder.

It sounded like a song back home. A song they did for dances. Once you go to a party together. Loki disliked social gatherings and preferred to hide away. You managed to talk him into coming down. Talking to one person. Trying the wine. Dancing. Saving one dance for you. He found he liked it. And he was enjoying himself, getting into little fights, laughing, flirting…

The flirting. There was a pretty red-haired boy, a woman with blonde hair, and even another person he kept flirting with that night. It must have been another heir to the throne trying to set a match that night. Even though in hindsight those matches never resulted in a betrothal, the images in your head made you want to vomit. Seeing him made you…it made your stomach turn. You tried to go to sleep that night, but your brain kept racing. Reviewing everything. It meant nothing, right? That words-he was being friendly!? Those phrases weren’t in any way romantic…right? Besides, he was just your friend! Nothing more…

. Ordering their food and drink for the first time for something new. Anything to get your brain off of your search for the misbehaving prince and your past. But it haunted you for a week. You barely spoke with him and buried yourself in school and training. But every morning, you woke up early with those thoughts, that memory still burned in your brain.

“Hey, watch it, dumbass!” someone yelled. It brought you out with a jump.

Getting out, you didn’t notice a person. Slamming into them, they fell right on the floor in their nice suit, their tray of food flipping in the air.

“My lunch! How could you?” he screamed.

“I’m so sorry!" you apologized. "I can pay you!"

"Forget it! Leave me alone!" he fumed.

You turn around to focus back on your food. But your ears could still hear his nasal, tenor voice.

“Look at that mess!” he complained from behind you. “She might as well be another damn Loki…”

Your sandwich froze in midair and you set it down in shock. Your stomach twisted in knots. The words were still forming in your brain. What…no…surely, they can’t mean…

But as you kept your ears peeled back, it occurred to you…they were. They meant it. They were talking…talking about him-him! You finished your food quickly, quietly. Then you got up and followed them through.

They went to an alleyway. Nothing but trash cans and tall brick walls. Children in the distance laughed as they played and cars honked their horns in frustration in the streets a few feet away. Unaware

All you had to do was create a distraction. Digging into your pockets, you pulled out a tiny ball. A favorite of the younger prince when you were children. Briefly, you smiled at the toy. In your adolescence, both of you would try throwing them in hallways to see which maidservant it would spook. It was harmless and would make them jump and squeal and you both would guffaw with laughter.

Looking over, you timed it carefully. The agents in their suits pressed buttons on a device and a portal opened in the brick wall. It was the size of a New York bagel when you tossed the ball- it hit the wall and exploded in a flurry of pink fireworks. The agents turned their heads, jumping when you ran fastly as you could, and jumped into the portal.

You would see him. Him! Him! And soon! At last- you could have cried as blues and yellows flashed through your eyes. You were falling through universes. And perhaps, your heart would be at peace, and you would tell this wayward prince the truth. How you felt. How your body ached for the brush of his fingers against your hand. How you worried for his safety. Despite his many flaws, if he was a poisonous well, you would still drink it. You would find Loki, bring him home, and tell him that you loved him more than life itself.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

When the bright colors faded, all that was were tans. Earth tones. Browns, greys, tans, and whites but all dirtied and plain. This was far from the magnificent palace and beautiful landscape you secretly hoped for. It looked like an average Midguardian office. Except the surreal posters. But at least it seemed to be benign. There were no weaponed guards. As you walked forward, you saw that desks were pushed aside, mugs with coffee stains long since used and stinking from not being washed, and in the distance, there was old music playing and a ticking grandfather clock.

You stepped forward shyly. Just because it looked harmless didn’t mean there was a trap lurking somewhere.

“Well, I’ll be damned, Asgard fashion!” a voice from behind you cried.

Twirling around, you got out your sword. So far, you were lucky to not use it. But that time was now over. You pointed it right into the face of a man in a suit with grey hair and a mustache. He held up his hands in peace and you released them.

His mouth opened into a smile as he glanced over you, eyes trailing down from your hairstyle to your boots.

“Wait, is that…that can’t be! I think I recognize you! Are you Y/F/N??” he asked.

He walked up to you slowly as if you were a predator released from a zoo.

“I am she. Sir, do you know of Loki Laufreyson, Prince of Asguard and God of Mischief? I’m looking for him…” you asked desperately.

The man nodded.

“Like the back of my hand. He’s trying to disband the TVA right now…”

You put your sword back in your hilt.

“I don’t care about the TVA, I care about him…I need to…I need to make sure he’s okay. I need to take him back home, back somewhere safe! I’ve been on this journey forever all for him! I need him! I mean…I need him to go back to his mother!” you explained.

He stuffed his hands in his pockets. You caught your breath waiting for his answer. But he said something else.

“Oh, Y/N, you poor thing….” he sighed.

“Oh gods, is he dead?” you asked.

“Probably not…or not yet…but…”

“But what…”

“I didn’t know he had…the clips showed you both together, but there was no wedding…”

“Clips? What do you mean? I don’t know what you speak of…but that doesn’t matter- where is Loki? Don’t play games! I beg of you- take me to where he is!” you cried, ready to grab the man by his collar.

His eyes went soft. You felt suddenly vulnerable.

“Do you love him?” he asked.

Bullets striking your chest would have shocked you less. An electric rush ran through you. You found yourself looking away and feeling suddenly warmer than what was comfortable.

“Love…define love…” you said.

“I can tell, you have…feelings. Not platonic, romantic ones. You have the hots, a crush for this god. That is how we are defining love right now! Do you love him?”

There was silence. The song stopped playing on the speaker and skipped to a trio of women singing about birds.

You felt as if this was a monster to fight. But not a literal one. And you were taught to be brave no matter what.

“I…I do! Now tell me where he is…” you answered plainly.

“I…I know where he is. Call it the end of the Universe and I know a way to get there but…Y/N…I need to prepare you…” he said with a deep sigh.

He walked up and put a heavy hand on your shoulder. His lips curled as if getting ready to spit out a poison he did not want to inflict on you.

“What is your name, sir?” you asked.

“Call me Mobius,” he answered.

You shook your head.

“What could possibly upset me, Mobius? He’s alive and not injured, I have reason to rejoice why would you say that? Loki is alive and once I find him, I will tell him how I feel and-”

“Y/N, he’s there with a woman he’s fallen in love with…”

It hits you like a rock. No. No no no no-no. You began shaking. The world went dizzy except for him. You began to sit down to ground yourself.

“Wha…he’s in love with someone else?”

Mobius nodded.

In spite of your warrior education, you sat down on a chair and burst into exhausted, heartbroken sobs as Mobius watched. Hand still on your shoulder empathetically.

“That’s not even the strangest part about it…” Mobius added on.

[moons-cozy-corner]

Hello Humanity

Trigger Warnings: Child death. Death. Blood. Mourning. Gore.

This is real life.

Hello humanity. My name is Moon. I am 18 years old. I am a gender-nonconforming individual. I am mentally ill. I am disabled. I am a sister. A friend. A savior. A failure. I suppose I am a lot of things.

I am also a writer. And as such it is my job to use symbols on a page to make you feel something. An emotion.

Emotion. A natural instinctive state of mind deriving from one's circumstances, mood, or relationships with others. Instinctive or intuitive feeling as distinguished from reasoning or knowledge.

That is what emotion is. The literal dictionary definition, at least. But as a writer, I see emotion as this. Imagine laying on a field of grass. There is an endless sky above you. With so little description, your brain fills in the rest. Those extra details--those are derived from your emotions.

Whether you saw a purple-pink sky with cotton clouds, on tall, soft grass filled with fireflies. Or perhaps sharp blades sticking into your stiff back as you grimace up at smokey skies, tinged red? Or perhaps you saw exactly as I described, a canvas unpainted by the words of an artist, a numb emptiness. All of which are valid. All of which are emotional.

Now I will paint you a picture. Follow along if you can.

A child opens their eyes, grubby hand grasping their chest as they breathe heavily, tears pricking their eyes. They are met by silence, only accompanied by their own heavy breathing. The world around them is soft. Soft in all the ways the world can be. Dirt white and smooth as clouds, sprouting flowers of soft pastels, the sky a kind blue. Their jaw unclenches, their eyes rush around not in fear, but in curiosity. How did they get here? Where were they? Where was everyone else?

And they turned around, and children are laughing. Running in all directions chasing after butterflies, pointing at birds, smiling. Happy in the simplest of ways. When the group of children spots the child, they stop, all staring. But they realize-its another friend! They greet them with open arms, an older child picking them up and holding them close, carrying them over to the rest of the group.

The child goes with giddiness and a newfound peace in their heart, something they know they have missed, but they cannot seem to remember why.

Little does the child know that the warmth they feel is not of an older child carrying them over to play, but their mothers arms surrounding them, or what is left of them, in the white sheet they are covered in. A mother kissing blossoms of warmth into an ever-cold body. A child that used to smile and laugh and play while their home lie miles away in rubble.

A woman places shaking crimson fingertips onto crumbled stone. Stone under which she knows some of her child's organs are buried. Rubble that crushed her baby into piece's that can never be reassembled again.

A father stares into the once kind blue sky, now gray, holding plastic shopping bags in each hand by his side. He imagines his child playing in the sky with all the others, their organs in their bodies as they reside with Allah, not in plastic baggies covered in dirt.

Do you like the picture? Do you like the progression of words that I drew out for you to see? The content I placed in front of you?

Oh. You don't? I see.

You see, I don't much like it either. Because I didn't make this story. I wrote it out for you, yes. But this story is far from fictional.

We sit on the other side of the screen, holding the proof of genocide in our hands. We sit and cry in our warm beds, warm showers, warm food and clothes, and hope that these people are saved.

Some of us don't.

So I am calling Humanity. Can she hear me?

I am a writer. I am really still only a child I can only do so much but I sit here, doing more than people twice my age.

Can you fucking hear me?

I am a writer. I cry over the words I write because they convey the truth of the world. My fingertips see my emotion into each little symbol I type. If this screen were paper you would see my tears.

You will hear me.

No. You will hear THEM.

The people of Gaza. The Palestinians who have died, the ones screaming for your help. The ones missing limbs, losing their eyesight, becoming orphaned, widowed, childless, homeless, lifeless.

The people of Congo. Those who are being enslaved so you can have the device you are using to read this right now, including children.

The people of the world who are dying at the brutal, unrelenting hands of those in charge of us.

2023 was not the start of any of this. And it will not be the end.

Hello Humanity. Their names are multiplying. Their ages are too young to justify. They are queer, religious, disabled, mentally ill, kind, creative, just. They are scared. I suppose they are a lot of things.

But are you Humane enough to speak up?

I will be using the tags I would use on a normal whump story to reach my writing community and those who would normally find my blog. My target audience is not those who would be looking under the Palestine tags. That is the reason for the unrelated tags. Thank you for reading. Free Palestine. Free Congo. Free Sudan. Free humanity.

[2000scnt]

You can love me…but you will hate me too.

•Miles Fairchild mini series.

Never actually posted on here before but this will be my first time and with that I will be posting a short story based on Miles Fairchild, the love of my life<3 loosely going along with the plot of ‘the turning’ Kind of forgot the movie BUT LETS GOOO. Also, I RARELY find good stories of this beloved Finn character, but I digress. Moving along!

//warning/ nsfw// violence, profanity, sexual situations// please be respectful.

•Chapter 1•

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

It was a cold foggy Friday morning. The air was crisp and unforgiving as Madeline breathed out warm puffs, it made her look like a dragon as she smiled to herself in amazement. She wasn’t used to the cold, she was from the sunny state of California. She did have a childlike peculiarity only when she was alone or comfortable enough with another person. The smallest thing as seeing her exhales make small clouds was most intriguing.

Madeline inhaled deeply letting the cold sting her lungs. She coughed out quickly. “Jesus.” She swallowed hard and turned to walk towards her first class. The grounds of her private school here in Rochester, New Hampshire was grand and impressive, but still your typical rich kid palace. The brick, the beautiful archways, and dazzling open grounds that was more lively during the spring. Bountiful flowers and greenery. But during the fall and winter, it was just grey and wet from the rain. Yes, the grass was more green and vibrant in color from the rain, but as you know, Madeline missed home and the spring was what most brought her closer to it.

To explain a little more, the teen was sent away by her parents for not being able to fit in regular public school. Madeline’s parents were beyond loaded. Her father was a huge deal in New York and Los Angeles as a big time attorney. Her mother was a screen writer for movies and such, mostly films about women empowerment and positions of dominance and privilege of men in the world. The year was 1994 and times were changing just as her mom was. Which seemed ironic seeing as her husband was held at the upmost position just for being an executive asshole. But that’s not what this is about.

Madeline was getting badly bullied in her old school in California for being a rich kid and which brought on a bad attitude. She hated being called rich kid but she also understood why others hated her for it. Everything was handed to her in a silver platter but it’s not like she asked to be born into it. She caused fights unintentionally as she would say. Her parents felt she was disconnecting from the world and becoming an unsociable outcast and ruining their reputation by constantly rebelling, they couldn’t have that. So, with their big dollars they sent her across the country to feel even more disconnected. There was the comfort of her father being close enough in New York for visits and such but her dad had no idea how to talk to his own daughter, so how much comfort could he bring.

Madeline’s slick black shoes clicked against the stone floors as she continued towards a large double door entrance leading into the grand foyer of the building. There was only around 500 students in their school, the outside looked like a castle but the inside was definitely more cozy but still classy. She struggled to pull the heavy oak door open but eventually was able to slither in. The door thumbed closed behind her as she quickly scurried across the parquet flooring. Her shoes now making a squeaking sound with her fast pace.

Her first class was Physics and she was running late, had she been paying attention to her watch she would’ve realized her break was over 7 minutes before. This is how she was, always late and always careless, sometimes thoughtless. Her parents always scolded her for having her head in the clouds but sometimes she had a lot on her mind, so when it finally went silent she would just go on autopilot.

The day was finally friday, she had no assignments due but to study and then she would have the weekend off. Her father was planning to pick her up and take her up to New York to ‘hang out’ as he’d say, but that was just her in his penthouse on the 56th floor waiting for him to get home and only being allowed to take the car to SAKS FIFTH, get takeout or take a walk in the park with security supervision. Didn’t seem all that fun but being able to leave this dreadful place was good enough for her.

Unfortunately for Madeline, school here in the east coast was no different. She still barely had any friends and was still getting bullied for being ‘weird’. She tried to be friendly and nice but with these bratty kids it didn’t last long. What was she doing wrong? It’s not like she was amazingly beautiful where they could be jealous? Or that she was more loaded than they were? Or that she was being rude or mean? Cause that was definitely not the truth unless they had it coming. No, she was just quiet and tried to keep to herself. Although it was no different here, she was still excelling in the curriculum and just wanted to stay out of trouble this time. Not let her anger get the best of her, again… and maybe just make her parents proud. Even if this felt like a prison.

Madeline’s watch beeped again as she was now 13 minutes late for class. She groaned and smacked her head against her palm and began to sprint down the hallway. The paintings on the walls of men and woman looking at her in disappointment to her tardiness. Her slightly short plaid skirt of maroon and navy flapped against her tan legs. Thankfully, Madeline was able to keep her tan even though she’s been here for a full year. It contrasted well with her light caramel hair. Her dark features coming from her mothers side, natives of Arizona who migrated from the reserves. Sometimes her mother would take her to visit her cousins and aunts who still lived on the reservations, but as she got older the less her mother felt the need to try and stay close to her roots. Although, it was like the more successful she got she didn’t want to associate with them anymore, it angered Madeline but her mother forbid her from visiting with the excuse that she was too young to go alone. Besides her uncanny resemblance to her mother, one thing she got from her father was her dark blue eyes. They were cold and deep and seemed odd against her Sunkist skin tone.

Madeline huffed and puffed as she ran down the hallway. Passing multiple open doors. Catching students attention. She quickly looked back down at her watch to see two minutes had passed. “Why do these hallways have to be so damn long!” She heaved as she looked back up again only to come to a screeching holt. Although, it didn’t help her much because she still collided with a standing figure who had stopped to pick up a pencil from the floor.

Madeline felt as though she had fallen onto a wooden plank as they both fell onto the cold hard floor. The person groaned in pain as he had taken most of the fall with his back. She barely had time to recover when a booming voice yelled out. “What the fuck! Watch where you’re going you cow!” Madeline gasped in surprise when she realized it was miles, Miles Fairchild. The miles Fairchild. The kids parents who’d recently died in a crash. The kid who’s been causing trouble and being the tortured loner. Wait- forget that, did he just call me a cow?

Madeline quickly climbed off him and sat down on the floor to shake off the dizziness. Miles stood up slowly and dusted his uniform off. His vest was spotless and his navy jacket was not even creased. He always kept himself at his best. His dark alluring curls were perfectly untouched and his pale skin was flawless like a vampire. His dark stoic eyes stared down at Madeline like she was a piece of trash. His bright red lips pursed in disgust. His freckled nose wiggled slightly as though he smelled something rancid in the air.

Madeline anticipated his response in slight fear. Miles was definitely a golden boy, handsome, popular, and cleverly smart. But he was definitely an ass. He intimidated everyone and was a bully when he was bored. He frightened everyone, especially lately, after his parents. He was mean for sport now.

Madeline expected him to stomp on her or spit and curse her name. What he did next was definitely unexpected. He leaned down slowly holding eye contact with her. His dark eyes held something in them that Madeline couldn’t read. Suddenly he reached his hand out to her. He wanted to help her up. Madeline smiled slightly. Miles stilled as he stared back at her eyes. They were like the deep blue sea, mysterious and it seemed to almost swallow him up. She was entrancing with her long dark lashes, but he was quick to snap out of it. Who was this nobody? He thought. Madeline softly grabbed his awaiting hand and he slowly pulled her up. He brought her close to his chest which made her cautiously bring a hand up to his chest to bring some kind of space between them. She gulped, she’d never been this close to a boy. Besides that, what the hell was he doing?

Miles stood like that for a minute with his eyes closed before slightly moving his head into the crook of her neck. He rubbed his nose up slowly and breathed her in. Madeline was frozen. This is beyond my comprehension? How do I even handle this? She questioned. He then moved up and that’s when Madeline felt his oddly cold lips rub against the rim of her ear. He sucked in a breath and sighed. “You smell like a cheap whore.” He whispered with a chuckle.

Madeline fell back onto the ground as he had pushed her back down. She hissed in pain from the brute force he had used. This is what you get for falling for it. All boys are the same. He walked past her swiftly with a couple more chuckles under his breath. She whipped her head around to say something but he was already too far down the hallway looking at her with cold disgust and then quickly turning the corner. “Fucking asshole!” Madeline seethed as she slammed her palm against the floor. Her wrist folded weirdly and she quickly pulled it against her chest in pain. She rolled her eyes, nice move idiot..

*Hope you enjoyed! Keep going!*

[this-world-of-beautiful-monsters]

Fanfiction ask meme, let's goooooo. 1, 9 (for "let me wrap my teeth around the world), 12, 13, 17, 21, 26 (for "the house is the same size as the world; or rather it is the world"), 36, 41, 44, 49. Thank you!!

How old were you when you first starting writing fanfiction?

(copy pasted from my answers on this post)

I almost feel like a late bloomer, but eighteen, tbh. I only really entered "fandom" spaces in college and it spiraled from there.

9. In your xxx fic, what’s your favourite scene that you wrote?

My favorite part of let me wrap my teeth was definitely the Neuroscanner scene--it's like a character study from hell, poured through the darkest and most warped lens, and I loved the intertwined threads of violation, destruction, and sheer overstimulation as the scene progresses. I loved played with the glitch effect and the sense of shit steadily falling apart as time goes on, pushing everyone to the breaking point.

12. Who is your favourite character to write for? Why?

(copypasted from other post)

Depends on the fandom...for TMNT it's Leonardo, because I love his tortured leader aesthetic and the sheer amount of trauma he puts up with is really fun. For DC it's Damian, because I have a soft spot for angsty baby murderers trying to be better.

For Avatar I'd think recom Jake, because he's such a perfect Frankenstein's monster of hunger and cruelty and pain and power. With Spider being a close second, because I love this boy and I love fucking him up.

13. Who is your least favourite character to write for? Why?

Hmmm...well, if I don't like writing for a character I usually don't write for them. I guess in the TMNT fandom it might be Mikey, who I find kind of annoying. In Avatar I guess I'm not interested in writing for some members of recom squad, who kind of blur together to me, although some of course I'm very interested in writing for.

17. Post a line from a WIP that you’re working on.

She thinks of her bloodmother’s notes, Norm’s diagrams, chemical structures and samples and the dizzying, shifting shapes of one molecule folding into another. She remembers everything Grandmother and Mom ever taught about the woods, about bodies, about transformation, rebirth, the power every body carries to create, destroy, and make anew.

21. Tell me about another writer(s) who you admire? What is it about them that you admire?

I admire so many, on and off ao3...and one of them also happens to write about nightmare 50s domesticity in space and the psychological horrors that can be linked to teddy bears, so what do you know.

26. Which part of your xxx fic was the hardest to write?

For the house is the same size as the world, hmm...I'd think the part were Ronal refers to rJake and Quaritch as Spider's mates. I wanted to avoid demonizing her or putting her on a pedestal there, just highlight the complicated, thorny angstiness of the situation, plus the added factors of Kiri's protectiveness and Spider's heavily internalized victim blaming. I hope I pulled it all off.

36. Can you give us a spoiler for one of your WIP’s?

Leto and the island of Delos REAL (not clickbait)

41. What’s your favourite minor character you’ve written?

(copypasted from other post)

Honestly changes depending on who I'm writing, heh, but right now it's definitely Sylwanin te Tskaha Mo'at'ite. She deserves so much more love and attention and I miss her even though she was technically never on screen.

(Not part of the other post, but definitely Sylwanin's neck and neck with Paz Socorro rn. She's another underutilized character, and I'm automatically with anybody who's crazy enough to have Miles Quaritch's baby).

44. What is the last line you wrote?

"Are you?" Her finger taps lightly against the gun barrel, a ticking clock. "Are you really, truly sorry?"

49) Can you remember the first fic you read? What was it about?

(copypasted from other post)

A TMNT OT4 turtlecest future fic with immortality, bondage, and the apocalypse. It's called Casting Stones at the River by GoblinCatKC and I still love it so fucking much.

[rumbelleshowdown]

Sonnenblume here! A bit late I know but I just voted and have some compliments for my fellow writers.

TheMostDisturbed - I loved “The Sacred Stone of Beatha!” It created so much intrigue! Omg it would make such a good full-length fic!!! You managed to tell so much story with what was really just one scene! Imagining Rumple fighting off those creatures reminded me of Howl fighting off those monsters in Howl’s Moving Castle. (Amazing film of you haven’t seen it)

Beast of Gold - To Love Most Late was such a good alternative take on what happened after Belle left. Take that, Regina!

Rose Daughter - Hooow did you craft suck a compelling world/story in so few words? While not sacrificing rich description and detail? That’s something I’ve always struggled with and I definitely think it was a weak point in my own submission. I loved finfolk Rumple and I’m honestly scared of being eliminated in the first round, being up against a story as good as yours.

Smokey Willow - I LOVED the descriptions of the lightning and it honestly upsets me that there isn’t more to read of “Evening of Judgement”! I want to know what the arrangement is and what’s going to happen in the morning!!! Omgggg! 😱

Home Alone - The idea behind “The Heart and the Dagger” is sooo good and I would love to read more of it! The situation Rumple and Belle are in seems so impossible. I want to know how they get together again!!! Because obviously they have to. (I need a happy ending!!!) I also think it’s super creative how you had them “sharing a bed” even when miles apart.

Onelastedit - “Love is a Battlefield” was soooo cuuute! I love the domesticity. Made me feel all warm and snuggly inside. 🥰

Fabletales - Ooohhh that cliffhanger at the end of “Before the Storm” was meeean! But the twist was so good!!! Rumple and Nymph Belle fought, then talked it out and are now a couple. That’s like- totally what happened next!

Spindle - I loved “Premonition!” Rumple would totally go overboard if it was for the sake of saving a kid. And I loved your take on the Enchanted Castle. I don’t see sentience in the castle in a lot of fics. Yours was really good! I also loved the domesticity of Rumple and Belle being together in the castle at the beginning, indulging in their respective hobbies and being content in each other’s presence. But then seeing Belle all worried about Rumple was sweet too. 🥰

Gideon’s Quest - It was really bold of you to tell a Rumbelle story entirely from Gideon’s point of view. And of course Belle would tell her son all sorts of stories, and Rumple would want his son to figure things out on his own. Leave it to him to teach his boy how to be clever. Best parents! And the twist as to why they were on the trip was great!

Lucretia Victrix - Yours was a take I did NOT see coming. But I totally loved the whole ‘Bonnie and Clyde’ partners in crime thing! Sort of reminds me of what Neal and Emma were getting up to when they were young, but something tells me Rumple makes things a little violent than the scams and petty theft they were doing. Yowzas. Also I adored your descriptions of the desert in the first paragraph. Those words were so ✨pretty!✨

Ace of Hearts - Robert and Belle were so cuuute! Mr. Gold as the chivalrous knight in shining cashmere. Such a gentleman. And he was so sweet when he asked for permission to kiss her. Then things sure were headed in a steamy direction at the end tho… 👀

Squizzel - Mr. Gold toootally doesn’t get hard-ons in seedy bars… 👀 Seriously I loved the sultry tension between Lacey and Mr. Gold in this. You definitely captured the essence of GoldenLace perfectly in this one! And Lacey was so BOLD with that kiss tho! She totally loved taking the most feared man in town off-guard. And the most feared man in town wasn’t exactly complaining either. 😏 And then Gold as the knight in shining armor is always great. I could almost hear his cane hitting Gaston’s hand. It made me cringe but I still cheered.

All of you did such great jobs and it was sooo hard deciding which ones to vote for!!! 😫 Good luck everybody!

❤️

[hankmoody19782]

November 5th, 2022.

Things are, okay? I guess I can say that. Works going well, new guy got hired today, and he seems like he could be a good friend. Reminds me of myself. Met a new girl, Carmel. Not the best looking, has a kid. But she feels good and it passes the time. Definitely won't replace any of the ghouls that haunt me, but in makes the pain a little more bearable. Someone told me they heard that Summer was getting married here soon, so good for her I guess. I don't know how I'm supposed to feel about her anymore. The only thing left now is resentment and it's just too tiresome to keep that shit up. I haven't seen her in years, what's the point? Also heard that Rob is beating Leigh. It surprised me that even after all this time, that news set my teeth on edge and my blood to a boil. How could she put up with this? Last I saw her, she wanted to get married. The live the traditional life. But she's with a man who's made it clear he doesn't want to get married, and he beats her? I just don't get it. One thing I've never done is laid my hands on a woman with the intent to cause bodily harm. Something instilled in my soul from a young age, I don't think I ever could. But i can't fix it. She's too far from me, and I've no way to contact her. I've often dreamt of driving to where she is, stopping him in his tracks from hurting her again. But I dont know exactly why I would do it. Is it because I still love her? Or is it because she was my first legitimate girlfriend, one that I never slept with. Maybe this is all just self infatuation with the faded Dream of being a family man. But I know that Dream has passed me. I can't create the bonds needed to truly love a new person anymore, I can't be patient with the carnal desires of the flesh. Making it impossible to see any new woman as anything more than a tool for my benefit until I grow tired of the routine and boring body. If I could go back, I never would've pushed the stone of pushing Leigh away all those years ago. But we cannot change the past. We can only affect what the future holds. Tomorrow I have an interview with another job. I think I'm gonna try to work days, and nights. Shorten my sleep and make as much money as I can. Pay off my debt, and once court has been done, move. I don't think I want to tell anyone. Only my family will know. Then, if anyone reaches out, maybe it'll feel like they actually care. But let's face it, we both know that won't happen. If my phones dry now, it'll be dry when I'm miles away from here. Starting over is my best chance for a better life. With what I know now, I believe I've got a chance. I just have to decide where. Florida does sound nice, but it can't be too close to Leigh. Tennessee is beautiful, and my family tree started there, but it doesn't provide complete solice like I'm wanting. Colorado is too cold, and full of stoners. Montana would be the dream, but I'm not cut out for ranch work. I could go to California, pursue a writing career. But it worries too much I'll lose myself and become someone similar to hank moody, someone who's drinks and snorts and fucks anything he can, and fail as a writer. So much indecision. If only one of these past loves could return and give me some foundation. Maybe then, I would know what I want again.

[24hs]

Pulling

pairings: nicomaki (hinted: rinpana, kotoeli, nozoumi)

raiting: T (a lil bit of cursing)

words: 8100+

summary: Maki never thought that she would meet her soulmate in a subway. She also never thought that - after they met each other - her soulmate had absolutely no idea that she was Maki’s soulmate. 

» For what is known, the first Bonded – commonly called ’soulmates’ - appeared in the year 1XXX. As mysterious letters grew on their hands, palms or wrists at a very young age, they gained a lot of attention after scientists noticed a pattern in the syllables. Finding out that these built so-called Words with one or more person was a huge breakthrough for scientists all over the world and thus, the concept of the Bonded had been officially discovered.

The Words often tell one about the kind of relationship the Bonded have ; to use a popular example, earthquake could possibly mean that the Bonded may have to endure a lot of problems in their relationship.

In the age of social media, it has gotten a lot easier to meet your Bonding Partner. A great number of Internet users work with facebook, twitter, instagram or similar platforms to spread their Word and to search for their Bonding Partner. This is why the average age of finding one’s Bonding Partner dropped compared to a few decades ago. Now most people between 14 and 18 years find... «

Maki stopped reading. This wasn’t helpful in any way, every children was taught this in elementary school. If she wanted to look up theories about why or how the Words appeared for her biology class, she would have to dig further. She massaged her temples and closed her eyes for a second to relax, just to open them again, peeking at her right wrist. ’mag’, it said in pretty, cursive writing. Maki rubbed her wrist to make the pink color disappear, but like the one hundred times before, it didn’t work.

When she was a child, she always looked in excitement at her Word, wondering where her soulmate could be, imagining the words she could put together with her syllable.

When she became 13 years old, the excitement started to fade slowly, and at the age of 16, nothing was left. At this point, sensing that people her age were constantly staring at her arms, their gaze burning on her skin, it felt burdensome. It irritated her that everyone was trying to find their Bonding Partner just for the sake of it. Maki didn’t consider herself a romantic person, but damn, shouldn’t the journey be the reward? Or something like that.

She glanced at her computer clock. 06:38 PM. If she didn’t want to miss the train for her meeting with Nozomi, she had to go now. She stood up, sighing, and grabbed her bag. Before leaving the house, she made sure that her Word was covered by her jacket.

While putting her earphones in, Maki went through her favorite playlist. Tchaikovsky’s Lake in the Moonlight started playing, and she put her phone away. Looking for a pole to clasp so she wouldn’t fall, Maki tried to make her way through the crowded subway. Finally, she found a spot near to the now closing doors. As she stood still, trying to hold balance, a girl wearing pig tails and a pink cardigan bumped into her after squeezing her petite body through the already closing subway doors.

“Excuse me”, the girl, who didn’t sound sorry at all, muttered. Maki frowned. She watched her clinging to a near pole - she needed to stand on her toes to reach it. Maki’s mild irritation faded. Cute. Her eyes met hers for a second. Pink Cardigan’s eyes glowed in a strong shade of red and suddenly Maki felt pulled in her direction. Puzzled, she lowered her gaze.

What the hell was that?

Glazing at her shoes – the girl wore two different socks -, Maki waited for her station before she dared to lift her head again. Pink Cardigan picked up her phone, her sleeve slipping down to reveal ’netic’ in such a bright shade of red it hurt to look at it.

Maki’s fingers unconsciously found their way to her own wrist, shoving the fabric away. In this very moment, she didn’t care that she was standing in the subway, people all around her – widen eyed, Maki stared at her. Her mind went absolutely blank. The music’s volume, drumming in her ears, reached its peak.

Magnetic.

Maki vaguely noticed that the subway had stopped and people start pushing her away to make their way outside. She didn’t care about what she thought about before, she wanted to meet her now. She needed to. Her movements were hypnotized, her heart was mesmerized.

She desperately tried to reach out for her possible Bonding Partner. Hastily, she pushed the people in front of her away, her heart beating to her fingertips-

Lake in the Moonlight ended on a melancholic note, leaving silence to Maki’s ears.

She was too late. Her soulmate was gone.

She stood at the subway’s entrance hall, and even though there were hundreds of people surrounding her, she never felt more alone than right now.

“Nozomi!” Maki let out a curse under her breath after she bumped into the commode in Nozomi’s hall way. Carelessly, she threw her second keys in a corner and hastily hung up her jacket, ignoring Nozomi’s worried “Maki?”.

“You won’t believe what happened to me earlier in the subway!” She limped to the living room without noticing the person sitting next to Nozomi, who looked at her in confusion. “I was-” Maki swallowed the rest of the sentence when she finally saw her.

This couldn’t be. Her mind must be playing games with her, right? There was no way that this was-

“Hi”, Pink Cardigan smirked. “I’m Nico. Nice to meet you.”

Maki just stood there, unable to say anything along the lines of “There’s a high chance that you’re my Bonding Partner and maybe we should go on a date or just, you know, marry immediately” to a simple “Hey, what’s up?”. Instead, she pulled her jacket over her right wrist. The spark of hope she felt while seeing Nico’s Word was gone, now she only sensed the old, well-known vulnerability.

After a few moments passed - way too much moments for the whole thing to not become awkward -, Nico looked at Nozomi with a half looped smile. “Is she, like, deaf or something? Geez, you could have told me sooner-”

“No, no, she’s not”, Nozomi hurried up to say after realizing that Maki wouldn’t talk for herself.

“Yeah”, Maki spoke up, voice husky, “I’m-”

Nico - her possible soulmate, for fuck’s sake -, interrupted her. “Hey, I remember you!” She eyed Maki, whose ears grew red at the intense glaring. “I saw you in the subway! Caught her staring at me like she never saw a pretty girl before”, she said to Nozomi, who chuckled, her hand covering her mouth.

“I wasn’t- staring-”, Maki spluttered.

“Hah, you totally were-”

Nozomi had stopped giggling and gave Nico a warning look that made her shut. Maki took her loose hand gesture as a sign to sit down next to her. When they both stayed quiet – Nico relaxed, Maki tensed -, Nozomi cleared her throat.

“I’m glad that you’re here now, I want to ask you - and Nico - a favor. A rather big one.” She paused for a moment.

“But wait, you wanted to tell me something, right? Before I interrupted you.” Maki’s face went even redder at Nozomi’s polite description of her interrupting, which was just her silently gazing at Nico like a dead fish.

“I, uh… ”, she croaked, trying to think of something that wouldn’t reveal her silly tries to reach out for Nico, “I saw two guys having a fist fight in the subway, so… that’s what I wanted to tell you”, she finished flatly

 Lying to her twisted Maki’s guts, but she really didn’t want to talk about this issue in front of- well, the issue. Then again, she wasn’t even sure if she wanted to talk about this anytime else.

“So, uh, what’s the favor?” Maki was never happier about changing the subject. Nozomi’s face lighted up. “You and Nico are one of my closest friends, and I cherish the bond between us deeply-”

“Get to the point, Tojo, I still have things to do”, Nico yawned, but grinned right after to express that she was only joking. Nozomi smirked. “Right. So what I want you to do is to help me with a project. Maki’s very good at composing”, she told Nico, who had put her chin in her hands and listened closely. Maki lost herself in eying Nico’s profile, followed the line of her jawline up to her lips and nose.

“And Nico here is a very skilled singer”, Nozomi continued, not noticing that Maki was spiritually absent. “Geez, stop, I’m already blushing”, Nico said although Maki couldn’t identify any sign of flattery in her face. Nozomi softly squeezed Nico’s knee to silent her again. Maki couldn’t help to notice that Nico’s legs were long and slender. She turned her head to Nozomi. Her moves felt mechanical.

“Anyway, what I’ve meant to say is”, Nozomi went on, “I want you to write a song together.”

The first thing that came to Maki’s mind was no. There was no chance she was going to do this.

“Not to doubt your opinion or anything, Nozomi, but how do I know she’s, you know, qualified?” Nico tilted her head in Maki’s direction. Maki could feel the same irritation that bubbled up in her chest on their very first meet rising up in her again.

“I’m very qualified, thank you very much”, she snapped at Nico, forgetting that she originally was ignoring her. Nico didn’t look very impressed.

“You’ll have to trust me”, Nozomi softly said

 “What do you plan to do with a composed song, anyway?”

For now, Maki decided to keep overlooking Nico and hoping that she wouldn’t see her nervously fiddling with the hem of her skirt.

“Basically, it’s for Otonokizaka. Do you remember the whole school gathering for a meeting last week? In which Principal Minami said a few words about a festival?” - “Vaguely”, Nico hummed

 Maki’s heart skipped a beat. Nico attended Otonokizaka? Her school? Nozomi misinterpreted Maki’s horrified expression for a confused one and explained:

“Nico and I are in the same year, but it’s no surprise you didn’t recognize her, she doesn’t participate in clubs and rarely studies, so she doesn’t get any awards she could be known for.”

“I deserve an award for dealing with you”, Nico growled, “why do you like to put me into a bad light in front of every new person I meet?” Nozomi smiled so innocently bright at her Nico flinched. “Alright, alright, let’s just move on. You were saying?”

It took all of Maki’s concentration to listen. Her mind spun and her head hurt from the chaos in it.

“So, Principal Minami planned to do a festival soon, mainly for middles choolers that are looking for a high school, but also to gain a bit money for the school’s budgets and stuff like that.”

“She said all of this?”, Nico frowned, visibly trying to recall. “No, but I’m in the student council, remember?”, Nozomi snickered. Nico scowled.

“So I would perform on a concert? With her song?” Nozomi hummed in agreement. “You don’t have to decide whether you want to do it right now as there’s still a lot of time”, she explained, looking at Maki, “just make sure to inform Eli when you have-”

“There’s no decision to make, were going to do it!”, Nico beamed and reached out to press Maki’s arm. Maki flinched at the sudden touch. She prayed for her head’s color to stay normal and not to turn into deep red. Nico jumped out of her chair.

"I gotta go now, I still need to go shopping for dinner”, she hugged Nozomi and then turned around to Maki. “I’ll text you later so we can set up a date for a first meeting, alright? Nozomi can give you my number.”

She winked at Maki - oh dear god - and then closed the door behind her. Maki felt like a tornado stormed through her life, wrecked everything and left after 15 minutes. Nozomi smiled at her and squeezed Maki’s hand.

“She’s something, huh?” Maki didn’t reply. “I know she seems a bit”, Nozomi searched for a fitting adjective, “fierce, but trust me, she’s a good person.” Maki nodded, not sure if her thoughts about Nico were appropriate for her friend to hear.

“Also, you don’t have to do all of this if you don’t want to. It probably feels like you don’t have any right to decide since Nico is quite the leader, but you do. Think about it carefully and then talk to her about it. Don’t feel pressured to swim with the flow only because she’s a bit dominant.” Dominant was the wrong word, Maki thought, pulling would be better.

“I should go now, too”, Maki muttered with a dry throat. When she stood up, Nozomi grabbed her hand again. “Maki”, she said earnestly, “is everything okay?” Maki wanted to cry at her honest worries, but instead she just nodded and smiled.

“See you soon, Nozomi.” As she stepped through the door, Nozomi called after her. “I’ll text you later, get home safe!” Maki shut the door and exhaled loudly.

No one was ever going to believe her this.

The time between Maki saving Nico as her contact in her phone and their first official work-meeting was, to put it lightly, absolutely horrible. Every time her phone buzzed Maki had to force herself to not jump up immediately to pick up her phone and look who texted her.

When she did, though - after a respectable waiting time of approximately seven minutes - she felt weirdly disappointed when it wasn’t Nico who sent her a message. She still spent a lot of time reading their conversation - because when she’s on her phone anyway and drowns in boredom, nothing speaks against scrolling through their chat, right? At this point, Maki could recite what Nico’s been texting so far in her sleep.

Maki Nishikino added Nico Yazawa on Line.

Maki: Hello, this is Maki. Please tell me when you have time to meet up.

Nico: are you always this formal? anyway, i only have time after school and singing and dancing class, so im free around 7 in the week, on weekends around 3~

Maki: You take extra classes?

Nico: well, yeah, since im becoming an idol. figures, right?

Maki: I guess.

Nico: so when do you wanna meet?

Maki: You can come to my place the day after tomorrow at 7 if it fits for you.

Nico: yup, sounds great Nico: can you send me the address?

After Maki did, Nico didn’t reply. She didn’t want to bother Nico once more to ask her if she got her message, so she just hoped that Nico would arrive without problems.

At 4:15 PM Maki came home from school. She was more or less relaxed since she still had one hour and 45 minutes until seven o'clock. Definitely enough time to prepare everything.

At 5:00 PM Maki became a bit nervous - but still enough time to think about how they should proceed (and how she could avoid being physically close to her).

At 6:00 PM Maki had done nothing productive. She spent her time sitting in front of a blank paper and thinking about whether Nico was singing or dancing right now.

At 6:50 PM Maki told herself to just “fuck it” and improvise. She couldn’t have felt more hysterical.

When the door bell rang, Maki’s heart dropped. She took her time to breathe in and out slowly before opening the door.

“Are you a princess or something?”,Nico snorted and stomped past Maki into the house. Maki swallowed a sarcastic comment (“Welcome, come in, oh no, it’s totally okay to wear your shoes inside”) and closed the door behind her. “So, do you want to drink something?” She made an awkward hand gesture to make Nico sit down. “Yeah, thanks.”

The uncomfortable silence between them kept making Maki’s heart beat through her whole body. “Where are you parents, by the way?”, Nico spoke up after putting down her now empty glass.

“Shouldn’t they, I don’t know, be all excited about their child bringing someone home?”

“I didn’t- bring- are you always like this?” Maki was completely thrown off the track. Nico raised an eyebrow. “Like what, exactly?”

“Like, you know-” Maki waved her hand around, hoping that Nico would understand what she meant without her speaking it out loud. She didn’t. “Gorgeous? Stunning? Absolutely-”

“Cocky”, Maki ended. Nico grunted. 

“That was most definitely not what you were thinking about, but alright, I’ll let it slide this time.”

Maki was already exhausted. Not only that she was insecure about what she should feel towards this girl, her personality seemed to clash with hers all the time. “Do you wanna start with composing now?”

Again, the look in Nico’s eyes made Maki feel like she had no choice at all. “Yeah, let’s get started.” Maki hurried to lead Nico to their music’s room (mainly so she wouldn’t stare at Nico like an idiot).

“I can’t believe you have a room dedicated to instruments”, Nico said, her voice echoing in the hall-like room. Maki watches her brushing over a Cello so lightly it looked almost reverent. “That’s one from Stradivari and its about 300 years old”, Maki commented flatly in an attempt to be funny, but Nico pulled her hand back like it suddenly stung her. “Are you for real?” Maki noticed Nico’s expression changed into something she couldn’t quite identify, and abruptly she was weirdly aware of her parents wealth.

“Um, anyway”, she muttered, “yeah, let’s start.”

She sat down on the stool in front of her grand piano when she realized Nico was still standing. “Oh, sorry, I’ll get you another chair-” Nico pressed Maki, who stood up already, down to her stool again and squeezed her body beside hers. “Don’t worry about it”, she casually said.

“Alright”, Maki said, trying to sound as casual (failing terribly). “What do you want the song to be about?” Nico hummed. “I haven’t really thought about it yet, but I guess something lively and bubbly would be nice, don’t you think?” - “So no deep lyrics”, Maki stated. Nico looked strangely offended.

“You say that like it’s a bad thing.”

“It kind of is, though, isn’t it?”, Maki stared at the piano keys in front of her. “Music is supposed be meaningful and to make you feel something.”

“Happiness is a feeling, too.”

“Is that why?”, Maki blurted out. Nico lifted her head to look her in the eyes. “Hah? Why what?” - “Its that why you want to be an idol? To make others happy?” Nico smirked.

“Ten out of ten, Nishikino. Living from people’s smiles sounds just amazing to me.” Maki glared at her. Nico looked so satisfied with her plan, her future idea, it made Maki feel fuzzy inside. Nico smiled brightly at her - Maki flushed at the sight of a smile this honest.

“What about you? What do you want to do in the future?”

The fuzzy feeling inside her chest vanished. “I’m becoming a doctor, I guess”, Maki said. Nico frowned and turned her upper body to her, forgetting the piano in front of them.

“You don’t seem very content about that.” Maki cringed.

“Well… my parents own the hospital and I’m their only child, so…” She bit on her lip, but stopped when she saw Nico’s piercing look. “It’s okay, I’ve been studying a lot and I don’t want to be that wasted, also..”

Maki stopped because even she heard how pathetic this sounded. “You shouldn’t do anything you don’t want to”, Nico spoke up. “In general, but especially on something you will be involved with your whole life.”

“Does that count for soulmates, too?”

Maki froze on what slipped through her lips. Nico did, too, but smirked awkwardly after. “I guess. Haven’t meet her yet.”

“Still, that’s a good philosophy-”

“I don’t want to, you know”, Nico suddenly interrupted her. Maki stared at her. “What?”

“I mean, don’t get me wrong”, Nico was the one biting her lip now, and by the way she fiddled with her fingers Maki suddenly realized she had never told this anyone. “Some day I want to, but not right now”, Nico muttered. “I just don’t want the universe to choose my life partner, you understand?”, she said quietly. “I want to meet them in a random place, hell, I don’t know, maybe a bar.” Or a subway, Maki thought.

“Look, I know I probably sound edgy and like a rebellious teenager right now, but- do you understand?"

A week ago - hell, two days ago - Maki would have. Now, as her soulmate was next to her, her thigh touching hers, she didn’t understand anymore. “I do”, she lied. “I don’t believe you.” Nico raised an eyebrow. “That’s your problem”, Maki said through gritted teeth.

She had never met someone this annoyingly blunt. “If you don’t get it, just say so”, Nico said, ignoring Maki’s comment. “Fine”, she inhaled sharply, “I don’t get it. If you know the universe’s got someone you will love eternally, why wouldn’t you to want to meet them as fast as possible?”

Nico stared at her.

“Do you?” Maki blinked. “Do what?”

“Do you do everything possible to meet the one?”

Maki didn’t answer at first. This conversation led to a direction she didn’t like at all. “No”, she eventually responded. “That’s pretty hypocritical, you know”, Nico smirked. “Giving me advice and not following it.”

Maki turned away from her and laid her hands on the piano. “Let’s just start, we already wasted enough time.”

“No, we’re not done here”, Nico frowned and brushed Maki’s hand. She stiffened.

“Everyone acts like meeting their soulmate is already the ending while it’s only the beginning”, Maki muttered after a small pause, not looking at her. “There’s a reason it’s called a Bonding Partner, you need to fucking bond first.”

Nico looked at her earnestly - and then burst into laughter. “I can’t believe you cursed, that’s so cute”, she giggled. Maki, offended at first, grinned soon after and chuckled too, relieved they curved the risky topic.

Nico laid her head onto Maki’s shoulder. Maki stretched her back. “You know what, Nishikino?”, Nico said, sounding sleepy. “You’re alright. We should do something soon. Like, as friends.” Maki’s heart jumped.

“Sounds great, Yazawa.”

Maki turned around until she heard Nico saying, “Nishikino! Here!” Maki blinked when Nico ran up to her. “Hi”, she grinned, a little bit out of breath, and Maki smiled back. “Are you ready?”

“Yeah, let’s go!” Nico grabbed her hand and pulled her to the first booth - Ballon pop. While Maki aimed terribly – Nico kept distracting her through grimaces and light tackles -, Nico even won a small stuffed animal (a cute panther).

“You can have it”, Nico said patronizingly after showing off for ten minutes. “Thanks.” Maki hid her face behind it so Nico wouldn’t see her red face, but of course she did anyway. She giggled.

“Hey, when we’re getting to the arcade, I’ll win something even bigger for you!” Nico held her word. Watching her dancing to expert mode - jumping, quick hip thrusts and wiggling - made Maki almost sweat, too. When she bounced off stage, already receiving her price, she hugged Maki tightly.

“What was that for?”, Maki mumbled, carefully laying her chin on Nico’s head, while Nico folded her hands behind Maki’s back and pulled her closer. “Just felt like it.” They stood like this for a moment – was it her or Nicos heart that beat that fast? - until Maki whispered, “Nico?”

Nico looked up to her, cheeks red from dancing. “Yeah?”

“You smell.” Nico pushed her away and gasped. “I don’t!” Maki laughed and covered her mouth with her hand. “Why are you surprised? You’re sweating.”

“I gave my best for you on the dance floor and that’s how you thank me?”, she pouted. “That’s really mean, Maki!”

“What do you want, then? As a ’thank you’?”, Maki pressed her lips together as if that would take her slipped out words back. “What would you be willing to give?” Nico’s voice was husky. Maki bit on her lips. They cleanly passed the line between casual friends-talk and not so casual flirting and she didn’t know how to deal with it. At all.

“Here”, she pulled a five yen coin out of her pocket and showed it to Nico. “Let’s get some cotton candy, shall we?” She didn’t wait for a response, instead she stomped in the direction she assumed a cotton candy booth would stand. She didn’t see Nico’s torn expression.

Eating pink cotton candy, they walked through the amusement park in silence. Maki was thrown back to their first meeting at her home - the tensed silence had turned to a comfortable one in the five weeks they’ve been knowing each other.

“Are you wearing jewelry, Nishikino?”, Nico gasped in faked shock and grabbed her hand. She turned Maki’s hand in hers and looked at the golden ring. “It’s pretty.”

“Thanks.” Maki knew Nico didn’t care about her ring, she just wanted an excuse to hold her hand. She already know because Nico kept doing this since their first cinema visit, and then in the zoo, and also in the endless cafés they’ve been to. She wasn’t complaining, though. Nico’s hand was always warm and dry and she always drew circles with her thumb on Maki’s skin. It was incredibly nice. Maki loved it.

“Where do you wanna go next?” - “Do you have a fear of heights?”

Maki clang to the Ferris wheel’s pole until her knuckles turned white. “Everything alright?” Nico sounded way too smug. “Yeah”, Maki said through gritted teeth. When Nico turned her hand to the other side to admire the sight, Maki closed her eyes and prayed that it would be over soon.

“It’s your turn to decide”, Nico said when Maki carefully stepped out of the cart. Stretching herself so her shaking hands and trembling legs wouldn’t be noticed as much, she acted like she was thinking about it - while she exactly knew what they would do next. She grinned at Nico.

“Do you have a fear of haunted houses?”

“That joke was really lame, you know?”, Nico groaned, her voice echoing. “I’m probably going to break my legs in here, it’s so dark!”

“Then just don’t slip”, Maki said flatly. This was one of her not so well thought-through ideas as she was probably as much afraid as Nico was right now. 

“Wow, what kind of advice, what would I do without you, N-” Nico screamed when something touched her face. Maki flinched. “Oh, fuck it”, Nico muttered and hold on to Maki’s arm.

“You made me do this, so you can suffer as well.” Maki scoffed even though Nico couldn’t see her.

“Do you think we could go the way we came from and just leave?”, Maki asked and breathed in sharply when a clown-mask popped up in front of her. “We could always try.” Nico’s voice didn’t sound as confident as usual. “Yes, let’s do that-”

They turned around and looked into what looked like an pitch black abyss. “Or let’s just head to the exit quickly?” They sneaked through the haunted house, constantly afraid of what could be lurk behind veils. When they entered a new room, the light went back on. Suddenly both of them were extremely aware of how close they were - and let go of each other.

“This is gross”, Maki shivered and tried to focus on the floor, the only thing that wasn’t drowned in fake blood. “Yeah, it kinda-” Nico squeaked when suddenly a girl with nasty cuts on her throat and arms shambled towards them.

“If i was you I would try to leave”, she growled, “otherwise you’ll get killed soon.” Nico and Maki exchanged a quick look.

“Run?”

“Run.”

They grabbed each other’s hand and started sprinting past the actor. When other artists came, they squealed and ran faster until they arrived at the exit. Nico panted and Maki leant on her knees to catch some breath. “I’m glad we’re out of this”, Nico breathed out and Maki snorted. “Yeah, me too.”

Nico picked up her phone to check if she had new messages. Maki caught herself staring at her wrist, which was well covered by Nico’s cardigan, just as all the times they met before. In a weird way, it was funny. They both hid their Words and agreed to keep it this way without talking about it. Nico didn’t know Maki’s Word, but Maki knew hers.

“Eli said they’re on their way”, Nico said, not looking up from her phone. “But it’ll take some time until they arrive, wanna do one last attraction?”

Maki wrung out the hem of her shirt and shook her head. Little water drops rained onto the ground. “Have I already told you that I hate water rides?”

“Just about a hundred times.” For some reason Nico - who stayed completely dry during the whole ride - avoided eye contact with Maki. Rather she seemed to stare at-

Maki blushed and turned around to untie her jacket from her hips. “Bad day for a white shirt, huh?”, Nico smirked, but the comment lacked her usual confidence. “Oh, fuck off”, Maki muttered, slipping into her jacket and closing the zip.

“Where are Eli and the others?” Nico seemed like she wanted to overcome this quickly, too. “I think they’re right-” A girl with orange hair stormed to them and hugged Nico, who almost fell. “Around the corner”, Nico closed. “Geez, you gained some weight, didn’t you, Honoka?” Honoka pouted. “We came all the way for you and that’s how you great me? That’s rude!”

Nozomi walked up towards them, Kotori and Umi next to her. Rin, Hanayo and Eli followed. Nozomi smiled at Maki.

“So, what are we going to do?”, Umi asked. Rin squeezed Hanayo’s hand. “Do you have a suggestion?” Hanayp looked flustered. “Let’s go eating something first?”, she asked, her statement sounding like a question. “That’s a great idea!” Rin ruffled Hanayo’s hair. “Eli and I ate in a really good Indian restaurant a week ago”, Kotori spoke up. “Indian sounds nice”, Nico said and so it was decided.

Maki looked out of the window. The streets were dipped in dimmed light as the sun was just going down. “It’s pretty, right?” Maki turned to Nico, who gazed in the same direction. “Yes”, she said quiet, not wanting to draw the others attention to them.

Honoka was discussing something about the food with Rin and Hanayo, Nozomi showed Umi something on her phone and Eli and Kotori were looking for a dessert they could share later. Nico smiled at her. Her eyes were glowing in the warm light.

“Hey, it’s your turn now”, Nico remembered. “It was my idea to go to the amusement park.”

“Your turn with what?”, Honoka, who sat to Nico’s right, interfered. Maki glanced at Nico, unsure how to explain their rather unique agreement to choose different locations for meetings alternately. Nico understood. “That’s none of your business!”, she scolded Honoka. Maki covered her mouth so Honoka wouldn’t see her laughing.

Nico grinned at Maki when Honoka didn’t look her way. Maki smiled back. A moment later, when Honokas attention was already on something else, Maki mouthed to Nico:“ Let’s go stargazing next time.”

Nico beamed.

“Maki, are you ready? The limousine is waiting.” - “Yes, Mama, just a minute”, Maki cursed under her breath and hastily brushed her hair. It only looked worse. “Oh, damn it-” Maki grabbed an old shirt as a provisional rag for the just pushed over nail polish. The deep red looked like blood on her desk.

“Maki, we really need to leave now!”

“Yes!” Helpless, Maki watched the liquor drip to the floor. She would just take care of this later. She hurried down the stairs to her parents. Her father was frowning, probably irritated about her being late. Maki quickly adjusted her dress. “Can we go now?”

“Yes”, Maki muttered and entered the car.

Maki blinked and lowered her head right after they entered the hospital and most pictures had been taken. She checked for the tenth time if her gloves still covered her Word (they did).

She had escorted her parents to events like this since she could walk on her on, but this was something different, something more grand than usual. It was the Nishikino hospital’s 100th anniversary, so Maki assumed the press’s attention was going to focus on her, the “heir”.

Even though Maki knew what she was supposed to say - “I will take over the Nishikino company gladly when the time comes”, “I will become a great doctor”, “I will make my parents proud” -, she was nervous. Her thoughts switched to Nico all the time. Maki would be calmer if she was next to her, making her usual stupid comments.

Her mother grabbed Maki’s shoulder. “The reporters want to talk to you in ten minutes, prepare yourself”, she said. Instead of looking at her, she smiled at the cameras. “Yes.” Maki straightened her back. She fiddled with the clasp of her clutch when it suddenly start vibrating.

Maki turned her back to the cameras - her mother would scold her for this, for sure - and fiddled her phone out of the bag. “Nico? The timing is a bit bad right now, I’m-”

“I need you”, Nico interrupted her, sounding stressed. Maki frowned - another scolding. “What? What’s wrong?” Nico cursed. “I need to pick up my brother from kindergarten, but- hey, don’t do that- my sister’s sick, she has a fever and won’t stop crying- can you come over and look after her while I get my brother?” Nico sounded really desperate. Maki’s throat was dry. “Nico..”

“Maki, please.”

Maki hesitated. “I’m there in ten minutes”, she hung up without waiting for a response.

“Mama? Papa? I’m sorry, but I am leaving. A… friend needs me. Right now.” She ignored her mother’s aghast and her father’s angry expression and hurried towards the exit. She also ignored the reporters taking pictures of her.

“Miss Nishikino! Where are you heading?” “Are you meeting a lover? Or a soulmate?” Maki froze for a moment but kept walking. The only thing that mattered right now was Nico.

When she started knocking on Nico’s door, it already swept open.

“She can take her meds again in half an hour, they’re on the kitchen table. Change the wet rag on her forehead when it gets dry again, and if you need to eat something, there’s still left overs in the fridge.” Nico paused, trying to remember if she forgot something.

“If you need anything, call me. I need to go now.” She took Maki’s face in her hands and gave her a hasty kiss on the cheek. “I owe you one, Maki", Nico said and smiled at her. Then she was gone.

Maki touched her cheek all the time until Nico came back.

“You don’t have to pay, you know”, Maki said while Nico was already whipping out her wallet. “Don’t be ridiculous, you helped me out yesterday, I’m just trying to do you a favor.”

Maki didn’t response to that. “I hope you weren’t doing something important? Didn’t really let you talk”, Nico muttered. Maki thought of the headlines, such as “Nishikino heir ditches anniversary gala” and “Has she had enough? Maki Nishikino storms away from parents’ most important event” and hoped that Nico didn’t read the newspaper. 

“No, I was just studying.”

Nico breathed out, relieved. “Good.” She received the tickets for the planetarium and showed them to Maki. “Wanna go?”

“This is… really magical”, Nico whispered.

“Isn’t it?” Maki turned her head to Nico. The stars reflected on Nico’s eyes. “I think”, Maki paused, “this is my favorite thing to do.”

Nico gazed at Maki. “Maybe you could study astronomy.”

Maki adjusted her arm chair to avoid looking at her. “I’m studying medicine.”

 “Maki.. ” Nico’s voice was husky. “We talked about this when we were at your place, remember? And we didn’t know each other well enough to talk seriously but now we do and-” Nico took a big breath.

“I don’t think you should become a doctor.” Maki stared at her. “What?”

Nico looked more stern than usual. Maki realized she wanted to talk about this for a while.

“You’re not happy”, Nico whispered, “at all. And you haven’t even started and- I don’t- I just don’t want to see you breaking, do you understand?”

“Can’t we talked about this another time?” Stargazing always had been a way to escape, and now her problems clinged to her skin like a nasty smell. She felt like she couldn’t breathe.

“Please, Maki.” Maki looked in Nico’s glowing, pulling eyes. “Please be happy.”

Visiting Akihabara in the afternoon on a Saturday wasn’t Maki’s best idea. She made a grimace and pushed her way through the crowd. After all it took some time to get there, she could just get this done and get Nico this idol DVD box she had eyed for a while but never bought.

She smiled at the thought of gifting Nico something. Technically, they had never done this before - sure, Nico sometimes payed for her cake when they ate in a café or in a restaurant and yes, Maki sometimes payed for their cinema tickets - but they never gave each other meaningful, with love stuffed presents. Which was why Maki was keen to be the first to do it.

“Thank you, but this isn’t what I was looking for”, she bowed towards the shop assistent and smiled apologetically. “I hope you find something for your Bonding Partner, come back soon!” Maki flushed. She never told the assistent that she wanted to purchase a present for a soulmate - she didn’t even talk about a gift. Did the soft care in her eyes (that seemed topop up only when she was thinking about Nico) revealed her intentions?

“Goodbye”, she muttered and stepped out of the shop. While she was already eyeing another shop with A-RISE, a popular idol group, on its windows, her phone vibrated. When she wanted to accept the call - Nico? Wasn’t she in class right now? -, she already hung up.

Maki turned her back to the street and dialed Nico’s number, putting a finger in her ear since her surroundings were quite loud. She pressed the phone closer to her head.

“Nico? Can you hear me? Sorry, it’s so noisy here-”

“Yeah”, Nico’s voice was hollow. Maki hoped it’s tinny sound sprang from the phone’s connection and not from Nico. “What’s the matter? You got me all worried-”, Maki’s forced laughter died immediately when Nico cut her off.

“I think I found my soulmate, Maki.”

Maki froze. “What?” Her voice broke.

“I.. there’s a girl and her Word fits with mine.” Nico still sounded pressed.

Maki didn’t know how to react. This felt like a really, really bad dream.

“But.. that doesn’t mean she’s your soulmate”, Maki heard herself saying. She wondered if Nico could hear her voice drowning in desperation. “I mean, it could be coincidence, right?”

“Could be”, Nico paused and took a long breath, “but also couldn’t be. That’s why I’m meeting her later and-”

“I’m your soulmate.“

Time stopped. As much as it felt like detoxification, it also felt like swallowing new poison. Maki’s finger knuckles turned white from tensing. “Nico? Have you heard what I said?”

“I.. have to go”, Nico finally said. 

Maki sobbed at her emotionless response, and whimpered: “Please, Nico, say- something-”

Nico hang up.The sudden silence on the phone turned to white noise filling her head. Maki shut her eyes and tried to breathe in and out slowly so she wouldn’t hyperventilate. It didn’t work.

She dialed Nico’s number – she needed three attempts to hit the right numbers because of her blurry vision and shaky hands -, and held it to her ear. It went immediately to her mailbox.

“Hey, Maki!” Maki quickly wiped over her eyes and turned around. “Nozomi, what are you doing here?” When Maki wanted to return Nozomi’s smile, it vanished. “Why have you been crying?” Maki just loosely waved her hand around as a response because even if she wanted to answer, she couldn’t. Nozomi took a step towards her and pulled her into a hug. Maki pressed her head into Nozomi’s neck

 “It’s going to be okay”, Nozomi whispered, stroking Maki’s back. “It’s alright.” But Maki knew it wasn’t. She lost the person she loved the most and, what was worse, it was all her fault.

Tired, Maki opened the door. The lights were turned off, so her parents probably still were in the hospital. She slipped out of her shoes, hung her jacket on a chair and sat down, listening to the clock’s ticking. What now? She buried her face in her hands.

Ironically, this felt similar to when she first met Nico. She couldn’t focus on anything, her thoughts were blowing up in her mind. Her body felt like it was run over by a truck.

Maki peeked through her hands and stared at the white wall. A tear ran down her cheek and dropped on her arm.

Even though they didn’t share a typical Bonded relationship, Nico still was the best thing that ever happened to Maki.

She never had this much fun with any other person before, and even when she was afraid - was it of haunted houses or of the future-, Nico never had let go of her hand to make sure she was safe. Maki had never felt this unsafe before, now that she knew Nico was-

Someone knocked multiple times and Maki flinched. She stood up and shuffled to the door. "Hello?”, she muttered, not looking at the visitor, until they growled:“ What the hell do you think you’re doing, Nishikino?”

Maki’s head rose abruptly until she met Nico’s eyes.

“Nico”, Maki whispered.

“No, no Nico, we have to talk right now-” Nico’s fist flew up and grabbed Maki’s collar, crumbling the texture. Maki didn’t dare to breathe in front of Nico’s furious, very close face.

“You never said one word to me”, she hissed, “in all those weeks I was in love with you and you never told me anything-” She started crying now, just like Maki did. Maki sobbed so hard she barely could understand what Nico was saying. Love?

“I told myself that this would never work out and that it’s not meant to be and-” Nico’s sentence ended in a sob, and she looked Maki in the eye. Her glow was stronger than ever. “Maki”, she let go of her collar and sobbed, “I-”

Maki pulled Nico in a hug. Her nose was running, her eyes red and her lip trembling.

An hour ago, when she hugged Nozomi, she was at her worst. Now, hugging Nico, she was at her best.

They let go of each other. Nico rubbed her shaking thumb over Maki’s cheek. Maki reddened, and Nico giggled.

“Nico?” - “Yes?” - “Can I kiss you?” Nico blinked - and flushed, too. “You may.” When Maki finally, finally kissed her, Nico stood on her toes. Maki pulled her closer, her hands on Nico’s back.

“I love you”, she muttered against Nico’s lips.

“I love you too, Maki.”

They stayed up all night, bodies close and hearts closer.

When Maki told Nico about everything that went through her mind these past weeks, she shed a lot of tears, but it was alright, because Nico kissed her softly to make up every single one.

Maki blinked and stretched carefully so Nico wouldn’t wake up. The sun was just rising. Nico’s eyes were closed, but Maki was sure that they were glowing right now, even if she couldn’t see them.

Nico was by her side.

In the end, everything was alright.

“I still can’t believe you named our song after our Word.” Nico scoffed in Maki’s direction. “It’s meaningful! What’s wrong about That’s Unfair Magnetic Today?” Maki gruntled. “It’s like you want the whole world to know about our Word.”

“My, my, we’re thinking big, aren’t we? Right now, the only people that will hear this song are future Otonokizaka students. Besides”, she ran her hand through Maki’s hair and grinned. “I want everyone to know that you’re already taken.”

“Shouldn’t that be me? I’m not the one finding people with fitting Word combinations all the time!” Nico pouted.

“You know, you should probably be glad about Frenetic. If she wasn’t, maybe you still wouldn’t have confessed.”

“What are you saying, you were the one to confess first!” - “I wasn’t, you totally were-”

Nozomi opened the door to the makeup studio. “Are you guys finished? The audience is waiting!”

Maki turned around to Nico. “I also can’t believe you made me go on stage with you.”

“Come on, Nishikino, it’ll be fun! I’m with you, remember?” Maki smiled.

“Yeah.” Nico took Maki’s face in her hands and gave her one last kiss.

“Ready?”

“Ready.”

“Then let’s go!”

Maki Nishikino (23), astronomer at NAOJ, National Astronomical Observatory of Japan, recently made a great stir when she got married to the nation’s idol Nico Yazawa (25). After they entered into the bond of marriage, a grand party was held, which a total of over 400 guests attended. Due to business reasons both women keep their surname, but in private they’re called Mrs and Mrs Yazawa.

We asked Maki Nishikino if being refered as Nico Yazawa’s wife rather than as a successful astronomer irritates her.

“Not at all!”, she said, laughing, “I’m very proud of what my wife has accomplished so far, and I’m madly in love with her. There’s no place for such things as envy or insecurity.”

And how did she deal with cutting ties with her parents?

“We did in fact not cut ties, even though the wedding was the first time we’ve met in years. But we’re on good terms now.”

Now?

She hesitates. “My parents and I had some issues to solve when I was younger, but thanks to Nico they’re all gone. She helped me overcome them. All in all, I’m a better person because of her.”

Mrs Nishikino laughs again.

We congratulate Nico Yazawa and Maki Nishikino to their wedding and their beautiful Word “Magnetic”!

P.S.: Mrs Nishikino hinted that they have something great planned. So, who knows? Maybe we will hear about the two lovebirds soon. Stay tuned!

[allwaswell16]

These are all the One Direction fics I read and enjoyed in August 2022. You can listen to my podcast to hear me talk about each of these fics as well as an overview of what was posted on ao3 in August including the fics on this month’s fic roundup which you can find here! Please let the writers know if you liked the fics by leaving kudos and comments! Happy reading!

Fanfictional Podcast #41 | ko-fi | fic recs

-Larry -

🍃 Mind of Stone by amomentoflove / @daggerandrose

(M, 41k, mythology au, so much to love about this one!) He needs to find a way back home, and then figure out what the fuck happened at the bar tonight.

🍃 All My Roads Lead to You by @dandelionfairies

(M, 41k, undercover au, great plot!) Harry’s stuck in a life he didn’t choose after leaving home at eighteen. Bartending and running drugs were never on his list.

🍃 As You Wish by @kingsofeverything

(E, 25k, genie au, this was such an adventure!) Harry wished Louis free, and life hasn’t been the same since.

🍃 Close Enough to Touch by YesIsAWorld / @louandhazaf

(M, 11k, tour au, loved the evolution of their relationship) Louis definitely did not need a masseuse on tour. Not even if that masseuse turned out to be gorgeous, kind, and lovely.

🍃 I Want All Your Saturday Nights by @homosociallyyours

(T, 10k, girl direction, omg so cute with great wish fulfillment) When Louis Tomlinson is announced as the host and musical guest for an upcoming episode of SNL, cast member and writer Harry Styles is prepared to have to hide her longtime crush from her favorite artist. 

🍃 Wild As You by bluegreenish / @greenbluish

(M, 9k, country au, this was so beautifully written wow) a story about how Harry figures out whether the ideal of a house with a white picket fence in the suburbs of a medium-sized city is what he wants, or whether Louis' sheep ranch is the home his heart really desires.

🍃Will Death Be Our Last Kiss, My Love? by @fallinglikethis

(M, 6k, Potter Direction, love this story line!) As a half-veela, Louis has always had a past full of romantic turmoil. But his past comes back to bite him fully on the ass when a case falls into the lap of fellow aurors, Niall and Liam.

🍃 Where I'm Meant To Be by Halos_Boat / @halohamilton

(E, 6k, alpha/alpha, oof the angst hurt just right) When Louis helps Harry out with his rut so he can get it done in time for his exam, they're forced to face feelings they were habouring for a while.

🍃 Close Our Eyes (Pretend We're Miles Away) by @haztobegood

(E, 5k, girl direction, check tags but damn this was good) Louis and Harry have been on the run for a day and a half now. It’s a hard situation to be in, and they’ve been trying to cope the best they can since their relaxing girls’ weekend at a rented cabin turned into a living nightmare.

🍃 accept it, my love (you're mine) by skipper / @skipperxao3

(T, 4k, historical au, loved this soulmate concept!) the 1920's fic in which Louis Tomlinson, a successful architect, gives up drawing buildings to fall in love with the homeless boy who’s captured his heart.

🍃 Cannibalism Love Story by LadyLondonderry / @londonfoginacup

(G, 2k, kid fic, amazing...just amazing. I have no other words I am in shock) It’s a hot summer day and Louis wants nothing more than to lay on the floor and do nothing. Instead he’s with the twins at the science museum.

🍃 SEX 20mg by @jaerie

(E, 2k, sex pollen au, omg this was so hot) Louis swipes some edibles from Niall and smuggles them with him on a trip to Vegas. After a wild night with his ex-roommate, he realizes they weren't the kind of edibles he was expecting.

🍃 Zoey by @wabadabadaba

(G, 2k, cat fic, oh my god this is a dream fic I'm in love with it) Harry has a huge crush on his cat's veterinarian and finally decides to do something about it.

🍃 Fractured Moonlight by amomentoflove / @daggerandrose

(M, 1k, dark au, oh my goddd what a great stand alone fic but also love that you can read the sequel) Louis huffs because he doesn’t want to deal with this. “Listen, I appreciate your concern.” He doesn’t. “But it’s not your duty to look after the sad man at the bar. Okay?”

🍃 heart meet break by safetyfilm / @larrieblr

(NR, 1k, character study, heartbreaking but hopeful) a skinny twenty-something on the middle of the rug, a hot phone pressed to a cheek so tear-stained it might cause an electrical shock.

🍃 Tears on Paper by Lhhome / @lh-home

(G, 228 words, poem, so many feelings help)

Harry

Who wasn’t

supposed to see

-Rare Pairs-

🍃 Make It Up As We Go Along by @lululawrence

(NR, 52k, OT5, omegaverse, loved every moment of chaos!) When a baby is left on their doorstep, their lives become the definition of chaos...but maybe that is exactly what they need to see what has been right in front of them all along.

🍃 Doin' Somethin' Right by @laynefaire

(E, 5k, Zayn/Liam, future canon, so lovely) While Liam craved the bright lights and excitement of being on the road, Zayn has eschewed his prior fame, instead choosing a life of relative obscurity as the owner of a vineyard and bed and breakfast in Dauphin County, Pennsylvania.

[throwawayfiction]

You Promised to Protect Me...

Hey everyone, it’s me again. Definitely not your favorite fanfiction writer right now because I have been gone for so long. I had the worst week last week, everything that could have went wrong went wrong. Including my main computer taking a dump while I had to do finals. I was in tears to say the least. I wanted to try and pull an update that week but for obvious reasons, I could not and could not even think straight enough to write. So here I am warming myself up with this lame fic-let I thought up and throwing at you.  It’s modern day, Bella’s time period if that helps. You are in Volterra on a tour (I know, how typical) You’re about to be eaten. BUT...you’ll have to read. Sorry. Warnings included, some dangerous themes here, please be warned. Some possessiveness, mentions of abuse and strong themes. Please be aware when reading that these things are not okay or if these things bother you please don’t interact. I hope you enjoy reading as always. The kings x you. Maybe more to come, who knows.  ---------------------------    It was chaos. You were trapped in what looked like a throne room with many other people there for a tour. People around you were screaming. You were invited to the old castle in Volterra, there were about fifty other people with you, most of which spoke languages that you didn’t understand.     It was summer break with college, you were traveling to Volterra because you always wanted to see Italy, you were told that Volterra was the place to be. Apparently. One thing lead to another, and then you were personally invited to the castle two days ago for a rare opportunity to see the inside as a tourist. What was his name again? Dimitri? And a blonde girl, who you were drinking with the night they invited you; it was strange as they were drinking wine at a bar. But you didn’t think anything of it at the time. You just assumed things were different here.    Boy were you wrong, broken from your flashback, you see that same blonde girl, small in stature, attacking another human- was she human? Blood covered her face and mouth- was she drinking..?    Cold hands wrapped around your neck and another hand covered your mouth from screaming. They were cold and hard. Muffled screams fought against cold, hard marbled skin. He felt like stone. Blood droplets landed on your bare skin, you were becoming dizzy from the smell and now others’ blood touching your skin.     You clenched your eyes closed as you felt the man close in on your neck- “FELIX STOP,” A voice roared. Another man, was he going to eat me for his own meal? Was I being saved for another time?    Your eyes popped open, the air around you felt thin and barely there. You couldn’t breathe. You searched the crowd, well blood bath for the source, you saw a man walking...floating towards you it seemed like. Two other men followed behind him. The man leading, was beautiful. He had long dark hair, his skin was pale of course, his eyes soft but intense in this moment. You were pretty sure the man named Felix was holding you up at this point. You couldn’t feel your legs. Felix unhanded you in the awful position he had you in, you didn’t remember when or how, he was holding you still up by your arm. You forgot to notice. Your stare was blank as the man got close to you, his expression was soft. You couldn’t stop looking at all the bodies piling up on the floor.    His cold fingers lifted your chin so you’d look in to his eyes, with no choice. Your heart was beating a mile a minute, ‘am I breathing?’ You thought to yourself. His eyes were beautiful, but they were red, those of a killer.     His eyes were locked on to yours, “Stellina”, he whispered. “So beautiful.” Your jaw was probably hitting the floor, you were his meal and he was playing with you. In a fluid motion, he picks you up, cradles your head against his shoulder.  You were in shock, you couldn’t feel your limbs. You felt oddly comforted against the strange man, but still fearing for your life. Is this what if feels like to the fly when he is trapped in the web; does he feel comforted as the web cradles his helpless body? Before he his devoured by the spider? “No one is going to hurt you, ever,” He whispers to you as he whisks you away out of the chaos. You begin to cry and shake, how would you ever get home? You were alive, but you felt like you’ve died. You had this premonition, that your life would no longer be your life. Today was the day you died.  You no longer knew how many days it has been, you were trapped in a room probably the size of your apartment at home. It was nice. It wasn’t home. Aro, Marcus, Caius; the kings that approached you in the murder, took great care of you, it wasn’t enough. You wanted more than what they could offer. You wanted to go home. You were afraid to protest their advances though. You sat numbly as they touched you and pushed hair behind your ears. You sat numb as they brought your presents and fine clothing and jewelry. Everything you wanted in your life prior, you no longer wanted. You wanted home. They had explained to you that you were bound to them. Marcus, the kind one, explained that he could see bonds and you were bound to all three of them. Three husbands, three kings. Well, future husbands. Marcus was quiet, he didn’t try to buy your love as much as the other two kings. It was easier to accept his love language. It felt like he understood you. You felt comfortable crying in his presence. It’s like he knew what you were feeling and he didn’t press you to explain to him why you were crying. He stroked your hair and continued to read his book. When you weren’t distracted by your own grief you could feel his. There was something sad about him. “Marcus, I can feel your pain, please tell me about you.” You asked him one day, he told you about his late wife and how he lost her. He thought he’d never find another bond again. Until he found you, you were special to him and you felt it in that moment he was telling you all of this. You were playing with his hair as he told you, your thoughts were trailing off unintentionally. You looked up at him and the unspeakable happened. You went in for a kiss, he froze as he accepted your lips on his cold ones. He was cautious to not become overzealous and scare you away, but the want was there. He wanted more of you. The kiss was simple but it lingered for several minutes. You eventually pulled away, still dazed in the moment. “I’m sorry I-” You began to speak. “Don’t be sorry, I’ve been wanting to do that for so long.” He said, stroking your cheek. “And so much more.” Marcus was the first one to get a kiss out of you. The other two were filled with rage at Marcus, not towards you. They wanted their special moment but Marcus was able to steal all of those from you so far. But the worst news came out shortly after that kiss, his brother nearly flipped, they were ready to burn down your home town.  “She has another lover?!” Aro roared.  “How did you not see this brother!? In your visions?!” “I didn’t want to invade in her privacy with out her permission! I couldn’t do that to her, she’s our equal now, Caius. “ “But she’s our mate and we have to protect her-” “She is in no real danger, brother. This is just a minor bump in the road.” Aro didn’t know who he was trying to convince at this point. ************* Weeks have passed, the kings knew about your boyfriend, who you wanted to see, you wanted to kiss him. You withheld kisses from Marcus when he told you that him and his brothers forbid you to see him. Crying fits were now the norm again, you didn’t want to see any of them. Your green eyes, ‘so rare’ Aro called them, were lined with red rings and bloodshot. You felt like death. Today Aro was being forceful with you, he sent Marcus away. He wanted time with you, so he forced his way in to your room and you were sitting on the sofa with him. He was writing something in a journal, before you knew it, you asked him to see your boyfriend and he snapped, but you snapped back at him. Your emotions were a rollercoaster, you were ruthless and ready to fight. “I forbid you to talk about it ever again!” Aro hissed at you, you lost it. Your cool, or what was left of it, blew off the top. “I wish I was fucking dead! You make me miserable!” Aro flinched, he knew he overstepped, let jealousy get the best of him and now he has damaged your relationship, possibly forever. “I want to fucking die, You should have let Felix kill me!” You roared at him, grief over took you and you collapsed on the floor with heavy sobs. Your fists clenched in to the lush rug on the castle floor. Aro has never been in so much pain before, your words would have stopped a human heart. His mate wanted to end her life because of him, it felt like a wooden stake through his chest. He was causing his mate pain and agony. He was the cause of her pain. Marcus busted through the doors with a slam, “Brother, you must leave her now.” He said firmly, he was now kneeling before you trying to figure out how to help his mate who was in pain. He covered you with his cloak and pulled you in tight, you were now panicking and the weight of the long cloak helped ease the anxiety. You gave in and fell in to his chest. Marcus was so comforting. It was weeks since you spoke to Aro. Marcus forbade Aro and even Caius from talking to you. Caius didn’t even do anything wrong yet but Marcus told you Caius tends to follow Aro’s rash judgment and he’s very much like Aro; he acts before he thinks. It was a cool evening, you were wandering the halls, practicing remembering the castle. You had nothing else better to do. You memorized the most important parts of the castle. Like the throne room. You stopped dead in front of the doors to the throne room. Aro and Caius were in there and so was Marcus. They were about to have court. You thought about interrupting, a smile drew across your face. You wanted to let more anger out on to Aro, the look of pain on his face was so satisfying to you. You shoved open the throne doors and you were greeted by Aro, “Amore, are you supposed to be here right now?” He asked nervously. You stepped forward. “No. I had a change of plans.” “Did you want to join us?” “Absolutely not.” “Can we get you something then dear-” “You promised me something in here.” “What is it that I promised you? Have I forgot?” “You promised to not hurt me.”

[asteroshearts]

[Actor!AU] Relationship HCs

[Levi + Eren] 

Levi Ackerman: 

Even though he still has his RBF off-screen he’s a hell of a lot nicer than people think he is. 

Probably asked Eren if he was okay several times before and after the trial scene. 

They used one of your tweets that read, “I want Levi to break my back like a glowstick” during those “____ reads thirst tweets” videos and his face immediately became full-on red when he saw your @. 

I mean, he was blushing before, but when he saw that it was you he jokingly says, “I had no idea they posted this... Why are you like this. If you wanted me to break your back you could’ve just asked me to my face.” 

Great with puppies, kittens, children, and other infantile creatures. If he’s carrying a bouquet during an event or something and a kid comes up to him, he’ll give them a flower. 

“Levi Plays With Puppies While Answering Fan Questions” probably got over a million views in less than half an hour. 

NO ONE DOES BUSINESS CASUAL BETTER THAN HE DOES!! 

People probably take more pictures of you two at the front row seats of fashion shows more than the models themselves. 

Probably has the Rihanna Effect™ where he’ll wear something that looks bad on the OG model on the runway, but once he wears it, it’s suddenly fashionable. 

Speaking of Rihanna he’s probably in a random music video of hers like Mads Mikkelsen in “Bitch Better Have My Money.” 

HE’S STILL AN ACTS OF SERVICE MAN THROUGH AND THROUGH. 

On one hand he does expected “gentleman” things like opening doors for you, closing your car door after you, holding your bags, etc. 

On the other hand he goes to the extreme. 

If he’s not filming something or busy, he’s by your side doing all of the jobs your assistant is supposed to do. 

The directors and cameramen are looking around being like, “Where’s our Important Character Levi” when they need to shoot scenes, but if they find you they’ll just see him following you around, holding an umbrella over your head in one hand and holding your coffee in the other. 

When they first saw it everyone was like...couldn’t you find someone else...that’s not an extremely important cast member to do that... but it’s just Levi, he insists on doing it himself. Your assistant has the easiest job in the world because he elevates all of their jobs for them. 

CAREFULLY HOLDS THE TRAIN OF YOUR DRESS ON RED CARPETS 

When your hair gets tousled or locks fall over your face during filming or photoshoots, the cameramen will point it out, but before any of the hair or makeup people manage to get to you, Levi will just ;; walk over and fix it himself. The two of you probably have the softest smiles at that moment when he’s carefully brushing your hair out of your face. 

Isn’t in a lot of roles. He definitely gets offered a whole bunch of roles!! but especially when you two started dating, he told himself that he didn’t want you guys to crash and burn like many other celebrity couples since they normally spend a lot of time apart and are usually thousands of miles away from each other. When he’s not filming AOT, he tends to take a break from acting and go with you to your jobs. 

However, if he does find himself in a role that he wants to do, he’ll definitely appreciate it if you reciprocate, but doesn’t expect nor force you to. 

Instead he’ll leave your assistant with a long-ass list of how you like your coffee, what you like to eat after a long day of filming, how to approach you when you’re stressed, etc because this man has been doing your assistant’s job the entire time asdfghj 

The only time he’s gently smiling in paparazzi photos is when he’s with you, other than that he looks angry or bored. Like he’ll be at a beautiful beach party with Erwin and Hange but he’s just sitting in the shade with a drink in one hand looking inconvenienced. 

Eren Jaeger: 

OKAY 

There’s this one video of Dylan Sprouse putting his hand on his heart like it’s the national anthem or something when Barbra Palvin walks by on the runway AND THAT’S EXACTLY EREN 

When he sees you walk by either on a modeling gig or on the red carpet this man just stops ,,, and immediately stares and puts his hand on his heart like he’s seen Jesus. 

ALSO does anyone know that one video of the dude tripping over his words when he tries to talk to Jhene Aiko during an interview. 

When you and Eren first met he had to bring Armin as a translator because he was never able to get a straight sentence out in your presence. 

He was legitimately stunned stupid when he saw all of your red carpet looks or interview looks when you two were still new friends during S1 or something. 

follows Ere[Name] ship accounts on twitter and your stan accounts. 

Why do you even have a publicist. He’s your personal hypeman. Sometimes people get confused when they go to his official instagram bc it’s just pictures of you, him promoting your stuff, or really grainy, desaturated pictures of you two doing dumb things together like doing the JOJO Torture Dance together on an empty street at 3AM. These are interspersed with pictures of him when he has to promote something that’s like in his contract. 

When he posts pictures or stories that doesn’t have you in it, the comments are all, “Where’s [Name].” 

When little kids come up to him during panels or out on the street he’ll get jokingly concerned that they’re watching AOT. Like, “Y-You watch the series?? Do your parents know? Is it too scary for you?” 

Tries to make you laugh by pulling funny faces where the camera can’t see him. 

If you mess up on your line, he’ll immediately build on that and goof off with you, resulting in the two of you getting yelled at. 

Quality time is one of his love languages, so like Levi, your managers will work together to make sure your schedules work with each other. 

Sometimes when you have other roles outside of AOT, you might catch him as some regular extra in the background. 

It can’t be helped if sessions go on for too long sometimes, but if it becomes a reoccurring thing due to unorganized sets, he’ll fight with the director and crew to get a break since it’s important for everyone to get some rest. 

If your character is shipped with some character That’s Not Him, the directors know not to show his face during kiss scenes or romantic scenes because he’ll legitimately break character and pout or become so stone faced that he can’t emote at all. 

This Academy Award winning actor will just go 🧍 on the sidelines while you’re trying to kiss Jean for a scene but his stare is burning on the side of your head. 

Eren to Jimmy Fallon or something, “I guess Jean and [Name] are cute but it would be better if it was Ere[Name]. No, no I’m not complaining or anything...” 

GAVE HIS EVERYTHING TO ATTACK ON TITAN JUNIOR HIGH. 

Begged the writers to have more Ere[Name] content in Junior High.

If they let him direct an episode of AOT he will film it like Parks and Rec or The Office.  

[Eren: commits war crimes 

Camera: swerves and zooms in on your face grimacing and Levi’s dead expression while he stares right at the camera.] 

People probably know that they can’t interview him/force him to do lives after shooting because his voice is gone after all that shouting as Eren Jaeger. 

Has a Dan-Emma-Rupert relationship with Mikasa and Armin. He legitimately sees them as siblings even off-set. 

[littlemisssquiggles]

Thank you Miles. Love a Squiggly Rosegardening Pinehead

I’m not sure when exactly this happened but my dear friend @jealouscartoonist​ just shared this video clip with me of CRWBY Writer and former RWBY showrunner: Miles Luna on Cameo that I genuinely think every Rosegardener and Rosegardening Pinehead needs to see.

To give context on the clip, in the video, Miles answered a question from someone in respect to the Rosegardening relationship.

The question asked:

“Was it intentional to have Ruby and Oscar’s relationship have kind of a similar sibling dynamic to Yang and Ruby?”

I’m not even gonna go into my thoughts on that ridiculous question. All I’m simply going to say is, what show has this inquirer been watching for the past four seasons of RWBY to assume that Oscar and Ruby act anything like siblings? Sure they care a lot about one another and support each other dearly but how can this questioner assume a “brother and sister” vibe from these interactions is beyond me?

...Sure...they are totally brother and sister...

That is ALL I will say to that. Either way, I really liked the response that Miles gave in this video. While he didn’t exactly give any hints at the potential of a romance between the Rosegarden pair, my main takeaway from this Q&A is that he basically denounced any theories or ideas that Ruby and Oscar are like family to each other.

Ruby and Oscar DO NOT see each other as SIBLINGS. That is NOT the intention the CRWBY showrunners were going for with their interactions.

Again, I’m not saying this confirms anything about the potential of Rosegarden being endgame nor do I want anyone else taking this information and running with it like that either [not like that will really stop certain people, to be honest] .

I’m more saying that this more or less confirms what us Rosegardeners and Rosegardening Pineheads have been saying to define this pair for seasons now that certain-certain folk can’t seem to wrap their heads around.

Rosegarden is an adorably awkward bond between Ruby and Oscar and it is one of MUTUAL RESPECT and interest. Ruby and Oscar both like, care and admire each other since both two smaller, more honest souls know what it’s like to be in each other’s shoes and thus support each other greatly because of this mutual understanding. And today, Miles Luna said the same thing.

THANK YOU MILES FOR FINALLY SAYING IT IN YOUR OWN WORDS. THANK YOU FOR FINALLY SAYING WHAT WE ROSEGARDENERS HAVE BEEN SAYING SINCE VOLUME FREAKING 5!

“…I know we definitely wanna get the two of them doing more stuff in the future…”

“…I think they’re both just cute and awkward and really like and admire one another and yeah they don’t really have a super defined relationship. We more just wanted them to just like…I guess the intent is just to kind of make them feel like… awkward…”

“Awkward and supportive…”

Adorably awkward, supportive, one of mutual respect---that is Rosegarden. YOU HEAR THAT PEOPLE! THAT IS THE SHIP.

But what’s also interesting to note from Miile’s response is that the Rosegarden relationship isn’t fully defined as yet. It still has room to grow and blossom. It may not be set in stone as yet but it sure as hell AIN’T NO DAMN SIBLING RELATIONSHIP LIKE YANG AND RUBY!

As my fellow Trinis will say, GON FROM HERE with that thought. That ain’t Rosegarden. Thank you Miles for putting one of these dead horses to rest. I hope certain-certain folk leave it in the ground.

~ LittleMissSquiggles (2021)

[rileymarie]

Fahrenheit 451 Quotes

“Let you alone! That's all very well, but how can I leave myself alone? We need not to be let alone. We need to be really bothered once in a while. How long is it since you were really bothered? About something important, about something real?” And then he shut up, for he remembered last week and the two white stones staring up at the ceiling and the pump-snake with the probing eye and the two soap-faced men with the cigarettes moving in their mouths when they talked. But that was another Mildred, that was a Mildred so deep inside this one, and so bothered, really bothered, that the two women had never met. He turned away.

Once, books appealed to a few people, here, there, everywhere. They could afford to be different. The world was roomy. But then the world got full of eyes and elbows and mouths. Double, triple, quadruple population. Films and radios, magazines, books levelled down to a sort of paste pudding norm, do you follow me?”

Do you see? Out of the nursery into the college and back to the nursery; there's your intellectual pattern for the past five centuries or more.

Politics? One column, two sentences, a headline! Then, in mid-air, all vanishes! Whirl man's mind around about so fast under the pumping hands of publishers, exploiters, broadcasters, that the centrifuge flings off all unnecessary, time-wasting thought!”

School is shortened, discipline relaxed, philosophies, histories, languages dropped, English and spelling gradually neglected, finally almost completely ignored. Life is immediate, the job counts, pleasure lies all about after work. Why learn anything save pressing buttons, pulling switches, fitting nuts and bolts?”

More cartoons in books. More pictures. The mind drinks less and less. Impatience.

Surely you remember the boy in your own school class who was exceptionally 'bright,' did most of the reciting and answering while the others sat like so many leaden idols, hating him. And wasn't it this bright boy you selected for beatings and tortures after hours? Of course it was. We must all be alike. Not everyone born free and equal, as the Constitution says, but everyone made equal.

Coloured people don't like Little Black Sambo. Burn it. White people don't feel good about Uncle Tom's Cabin. Burn it. Someone's written a book on tobacco and cancer of the lungs? The cigarette people are weeping? Burn the book. Serenity, Montag. Peace, Montag. Take your fight outside. Better yet, into the incinerator.

You can't rid yourselves of all the odd ducks in just a few years. The home environment can undo a lot you try to do at school. That's why we've lowered the kindergarten age year after year until now we're almost snatching them from the cradle.

If you don't want a man unhappy politically, don't give him two sides to a question to worry him; give him one. Better yet, give him none. Let him forget there is such a thing as war. If the Government is inefficient, top-heavy, and tax-mad, better it be all those than that people worry over it.

Cram them full of non-combustible data, chock them so damned full of 'facts' they feel stuffed, but absolutely 'brilliant' with information. Then they'll feel they're thinking, they'll get a sense of motion without moving. And they'll be happy, because facts of that sort don't change. Don't give them any slippery stuff like philosophy or sociology to tie things up with. That way lies melancholy. Any man who can take a TV wall apart and put it back together again, and most men can nowadays, is happier than any man who tries to slide-rule, measure, and equate the universe, which just won't be measured or equated without making man feel bestial and lonely.

And the second?” “Leisure.” “Oh, but we've plenty of off-hours.” “Off-hours, yes. But time to think? If you're not driving a hundred miles an hour, at a clip where you can't think of anything else but the danger, then you're playing some game or sitting in some room where you can't argue with the fourwall televisor. Why? The televisor is 'real.' It is immediate, it has dimension. It tells you what to think and blasts it in. It must be, right. It seems so right. It rushes you on so quickly to its own conclusions your mind hasn't time to protest, 'What nonsense!'”

“Jesus God,” said Montag. “Every hour so many damn things in the sky! How in hell did those bombers get up there every single second of our lives! Why doesn't someone want to talk about it? We've started and won two atomic wars since 1960. Is it because we're having so much fun at home we've forgotten the world? Is it because we're so rich and the rest of the world's so poor and we just don't care if they are? I've heard rumours; the world is starving, but we're well-fed. Is it true, the world works hard and we play? Is that why we're hated so much?

Lord, how they've changed it — in our 'parlours' these days. Christ is one of the 'family' now. I often wonder it God recognizes His own son the way we've dressed him up, or is it dressed him down? He's a regular peppermint stick now, all sugar-crystal and saccharine when he isn't making veiled references to certain commercial products that every worshipper absolutely needs.”

The same infinite detail and awareness could be projected through the radios and televisors, but are not. No, no, it's not books at all you're looking for! Take it where you can find it, in old phonograph records, old motion pictures, and in old friends; look for it in nature and look for it in yourself. Books were only one type of receptacle where we stored a lot of things we were afraid we might forget. There is nothing magical in them at all. The magic is only in what books say, how they stitched the patches of the universe together into one garment for us.

"Number one: Do you know why books such as this are so important? Because they have quality. And what does the word quality mean? To me it means texture. This book has pores. It has features. This book can go under the microscope. You'd find life under the glass, streaming past in infinite profusion. The more pores, the more truthfully recorded details of life per square inch you can get on a sheet of paper, the more 'literary' you are. That's my definition, anyway. Telling detail. Fresh detail. The good writers touch life often. The mediocre ones run a quick hand over her. The bad ones rape her and leave her for the flies.

“So now do you see why books are hated and feared? They show the pores in the face of life. The comfortable people want only wax moon faces, poreless, hairless, expressionless.

Only if the third necessary thing could be given us. Number one, as I said, quality of information. Number two: leisure to digest it. And number three: the right to carry out actions based on what we learn from the inter-action of the first two.

They're Caesar's praetorian guard, whispering as the parade roars down the avenue, 'Remember, Caesar, thou art mortal.' Most of us can't rush around, talking to everyone, know all the cities of the world, we haven't time, money or that many friends. The things you're looking for, Montag, are in the world, but the only way the average chap will ever see ninety-nine per cent of them is in a book.

Don't ask for guarantees. And don't look to be saved in any one thing, person, machine, or library. Do your own bit of saving, and if you drown, at least die knowing you were headed for shore.”

The old man nodded. “Those who don't build must burn. It's as old as history and juvenile delinquents.”

[shakspeare]

faith is the ache

→ dean/cas fic → circa season four. it’s the emo soldier of god for me.  → this is 90% kink y’all, most definitely rated r.  → ao3 link here if you’d rather read there → first time destiel writer the renaissance rly hit hard

Cas and Dean’s first kiss is a battlefield kiss.

It’s raw and desperate and bloody, torn from Cas’s lips like salvation, a prayer. Dean’s never been a praying man, but if this is faith, he’s a goddamn saint. He can taste blood on Cas’s tongue, feel Cas’s breath through his ribs, rushed and angry and brutal.

This is faith.

Faith is the way his fingers feel like they’re about to break. Faith is the way he’s holding Cas to him the same way he’d hold onto his gun. Faith is Cas’s eyelashes, dark and wet, ghosting against his cheek. Faith is every stolen breath and broken bone, every stabbing pain, every gasp, every tear, every loss.

Faith is the ache.

The world burns red through his eyelids; he opens his eyes. Releases his angel.

“Sam!” he roars, spinning on his heel, staring into the fray. The woodland’s half on fire, some demon coughing up its guts at his feet. He slams his heel down on its throat, scanning the tree line.

“Sam!”

“Let’s move!” Sam’s spat out of the forest like a rocket, tearing over the waste ground between them. Dean doesn’t need telling twice. He hauls Cas to his feet and they run.

The forest blurs past them in shadow and ash. The night’s dark; freakishly so. No stars. A volley of sparks explodes in the air above their heads; they flinch, keep running. Things had gone wrong, gone very badly wrong. Dean stumbles on the broken earth, curses under his breath. It was a trap, that should’ve been obvious. He was off his game.

“Dean?” The angel’s voice is curious, not yet practised in concern. Dean jerks his head; keep moving.

“I’m fine,” he barks, and Cas turns, keeps going.

“Here!” Sam’s voice comes low through the trees, and Dean gives a sigh of relief. He thought they’d overshot by a mile, but the Impala is just visible in the darkness. Least something’s gone to plan. His heart’s hammering against his ribs and something feels really wrong there. Broken, he’s guessing. He drops into the driver’s seat, fumbles for the keys. Half a second to breathe, and then he’s gunning baby’s engine to freaking Timbuktu. He reaches out to yank the door shut, but Cas is there, suddenly, holding it still. He stares down at Dean, eyes wide, hair going every which way.

“I’ll lead them off,” he says, and his voice is rough and low. “I doubt we will go undisturbed.”

Dean blinks, Cas takes a step back—

“Wait, Cas!”

He tilts his head, frowns at Dean. Dean gives himself a shake; man, he’s losing it.

“Get in the car.” The angel looks at him almost pityingly.

“No, thank you. I’m much faster out of it.”

“I’m not offering you a lift, you goddamn hippie,” There’s something moving in the trees. He slides the key into the ignition, keeps his voice low.

“You going off alone, that’s exactly what they’ll be expecting.” Castiel hesitates, still staring at him.

“Get in the damn car!”

Cas slides into the backseat just as he guns the engine and the angels break the clearing; the Impala snarls and jerks forward over the rough earth, spraying up dirt and stone in her wake, and if he said that didn’t satisfy him to hell, he’d be lying. He yanks the steering wheel hard left, spinning them out onto the freeway, and in 30 seconds he’s put miles between them and their heavenly little tete a tete. Cars flicker past either side of them, and Dean’s eyes flick up to the rearview. Cas’s baby blues are fixed firmly on the road ahead, that little frown quirking his brow.

“So it was a trap,” Sam grimaces, running a finger down the gash in his arm.

“Woah, dude!” Dean exclaims. “Upholstery, blood; blood, upholstery!” Sam ignores him, reaching out a bloody finger and daubing some hokey symbol on the passenger side window.

“Angel proofing, dumb-ass. They won’t be able to find us.”

Angel proofing. Right. Dean grumbles under his breath. It’s not the worst idea in the world. The pain in his ribs flares and he winces.

Yeah, they need some off-radar time.

“Check the map,” he nods at the roadmap on the floor at Sam’s feet. “Find us somewhere to crash. My four hours is calling my name.” His eyes flick back up to the rearview. No reason why.

***

The nearest motel’s about an hour’s drive. Sam falls asleep in his seat; Dean flicks on the radio. Adrenaline’s coursing through him like a freight train; it always does, after a hunt. He flexes his fingers against the wheel, shifts in his seat. Feels good. Feels strong.

His lips are burning.

“You ok?” The words come out a little gruffer than he’d intended. He clears his throat, keeps his eyes fixed on the road. It’s just the polite thing to do. Ask. For a minute he thinks Cas might’ve angel-ed out, but then—

“I am uninjured.” Right. “Great.” He drums his fingers on the steering wheel, itching to do… something. He needs a drink. A sleazy bar. Pounding music.

“But I… feel strange.”

He can’t help it; he glances up at Cas’s reflection. Cas is gazing out at the night, frowning.

“Strange how?”

“I should have known it was a trap,” Cas murmurs. “There were warning signs. I failed to notice them. I failed to keep you safe.”

“Guilt. That’s called guilt, Cas.”

Cas sighs.

“It’s not a big deal, no one got hurt.” He ignores the stabbing pain in his side; he’s had worse. “Everyone make mistakes. It’s uh, human.”

Cas’s searching gaze meets his and he swallows, looks quickly back to the road. Jesus. A scattergun of images flicker past in his mind’s eye; Cas, bright-eyed, burning, in the split second before he kissed him; Cas, in the barn, sparks exploding in the air around him, hair lit up like some dollar store invocation of Jesus Christ; and another, something he’s not sure he’s ready to think about yet; Cas, with bruised lips, shirt collar open and staring at him like he’s seeing for the first time.

Yeah, he’s itching to do something, alright.

“Dean.”

He jerks out of his reverie, slides the steering wheel left a little, keeps them straight. Eyes on the road. Get it together. Right. He shifts a little in his seat, pretends like Cas’s gaze isn’t burning a hole in the back of his neck. His cock twitches in his jeans.

“Alright!” He clears his throat, reaches over to the radio. “If you’re gonna slum it on earth with the rest of us, you gotta live the whole experience. Guilt, shame, the whole nine yards. Now this,” he raises his voice over House of the Rising Sun, “this is a whole experience of it’s own.”

Cas frowns a little. Dean sighs, leans back in his seat. Resists the urge to shift his hips, let the denim friction graze his dick. Jesus Christ, there’s something in the air. He risks a glance at Cas again; he’s gazing out his window now, thank god, watching headlights flicker past.

Alright. It’s not like he hasn’t been with men before. It’s no big deal, right? Except — and this is the kicker — sucking some trucker off for twenty dollars is pretty fucking different. Isn’t it? His heart skips a little in his chest, imagines Cas looking down at him, Cas running deft fingers through his hair. Yeah, it’s different. Different like, there’s a part of him that wants to pull the car over and get on his knees right now. He remembers the heat of Cas pressing against his chest, rough and aching; remembers the sting of his angel blade, caught between them and digging into his side.

Is Cas thinking about it? Do angels get turned on?

He’s not even sure why he did it, why he stepped over the angel Cas had just gutted and wrapped his fist in Cas’s shirt. He remembers the last time he had sex; in that strip joint with some hooker — he’d barely started railing her when all hell broke loose and he and Cas had to book it out the back. Does this feel like that? His dick twitches at the memory; the chick buck naked and spreading her legs, widening her come-fuck-me eyes. He frowns, shifts, remembers the puzzled expression on Cas’s face before he kissed him.

Nah, this is different. He doesn’t know why — the chick was hot, Cas is hot, his dick’s sure as hell into both. But it is. It is different.

Cas is still silent in the backseat. What’s he thinking about? I feel strange. Probably still grappling with his newfound guilt, whatever that feels like for an angel. I failed to keep you safe. Dean snorts. Right. Safe. When has anyone ever worried about his safety before? He barely worries about it himself. His mind fritzes for a hot second; faceless men in truck stop bathrooms; this week’s monster, teeth bared and barrelling out of the darkness; dad, waking him up at three in the morning and thrusting a sawn-off into his hands.

Safe doesn’t figure. It just doesn’t. And if he slammed on the brakes and insisted the angel in the backseat fuck him in the next lay-by, there’d be nothing safe about that either. He shifts, presses his dick against the rough fabric of his jeans. A single streetlamp bursts overhead as they fly beneath it, and in the shower of sparks, he sees Cas, bright blue eyes, one hand gripping the back of Dean’s neck like he owns him.

They make it to the motel somewhere round two in the morning. Seeing Cas properly for the first time since he kissed him is a freaking test. It starts to rain as they haul their bags out the trunk, and Cas has done nothing to fix his shirt, where Dean had wrapped his fingers in his collar and claimed him just hours before. He looks a goddamn mess. Dean swallows, slams the car door, wonders if there’s a bar anywhere nearby. Cas maintains his angelic silence as they cross the lot, stumble into the motel reception. Sam stays awake just long enough to check in, scrawl a bunch of sigils on the window, and then collapse on his twin bed, shoes on, dead to the world.

Dean slings his duffel onto the vacant bed. He’d gotten a twin room on autopilot, hadn’t even thought about it. Now it feels weird. He clears his throat, gives himself a shake. Tries to ignore the ache in his throat. God, he needs a drink. Or something.

Cas is stood at the window, gazing out at the blinking neon sign. White Rose Motel.

“Uh, Cas— ” Cas turns, looks at him expectantly. “What are you, uh—”

He was going to ask what Cas was gonna do all night, going to ask if he wanted his own room, hell, maybe angels like their privacy, he doesn’t know. But Cas is gazing at him, throat exposed, and Christ, he doesn’t remember the last time he wanted to fuck someone this badly. Dean glances at Sammy, passed out on the bed, and clears his throat.

“Outside?”

Cas narrows his eyes a fraction, and then nods, the tiniest movement. He closes the space between them, and when he presses his hand to Dean’s shoulder, Dean’s knees almost give way.

***

The air vanishes, twists; rain glitters on the sidewalk; the night fills Dean’s lungs, and he can’t wait, can’t wait another goddamn second. His fists find Cas’s shirt and he seizes him, pulls him close; his head collides with the wall behind him; the pain in his ribs flares like an open wound, and he doesn’t give a damn, doesn’t give a damn about anything. He’s done thinking. Sex is sex, and he’s a freaking cowboy. He needs this.

He can taste Cas’s blood on his tongue, feel Cas's lips against his, rough and punishing and claiming. Mine, mine, mine, and oh god, he wants to die here. Suddenly, Cas’s hand locks onto his wrist like a vice, and he steps back; Dean’s eyes snap up to meet his; strange, blue—

There are unspoken questions in Cas’s eyes, in the persistent frown that quirks his brow. His grip tightens on Dean’s wrist, and he presses Dean back against the wall; he can feel the damp coming through his shirt, feel the rain, soft, on his forehead. Dean can’t remember the last time he was this turned on; he doesn’t want to stop, to think, he just wants Cas—

“Cas, please—” It falls unbidden from his lips, and in the silent seconds that follow it feels like heresy. He’s hard as hell, and the angel at his throat is looking at him like he wants to tear him apart, and god, if that doesn’t turn him on more. Dean finds his voice, chokes out a word.

“Please.”

Cas’s fingers wrap around Dean’s throat, and he can’t tell if he’s about to kiss him, or kill him, or both—

Then Cas kisses him and he moans; a prayer that’s snuffed out by the press of Cas’s mouth against his own and suddenly he’s desperate, starving; his hands find the back of Castiel’s neck and he holds him to him, panting, pressing into Cas’s kiss like he wants to die on the altar of his lips. He gasps into Cas’s mouth, inhaling liquor and salt and copper. Cas shifts against him, open palm against his chest and—

The pain in his ribs flares suddenly, sharp and hot.

“You lied,” Cas whispers. “You’re hurt.”

Dean nods, doesn’t know how he manages it, but he does.

“Ah— yeah. It’s nothing. It’s nothing, Cas.”

He doesn’t want this to be over, he can’t have this be over, not yet. Cas passes a hand over his ribs, gazing at Dean like he’s lost in thought. Dean winces as his hand slides across the break; he can’t help it. Cas’s eyes flicker silver.

“You should let me heal it.”

“Right. Yes. Okay, Cas. Heal it, please— and then—”

“Pray to me,” Cas murmurs.

“Wh— what?” 

His eyes are gleaming, hair lit up by the street-lamps, glittering with the fallen rain. He looks fucking otherworldly, divine. He loosens his grip on Dean’s throat, and suddenly he’s full of something Dean doesn’t recognise. All he knows is that he craves it, needs it, dark and bright and strong and holy.

When he falls to his knees, it doesn’t feel anything other than right. He doesn’t question it, doesn’t think. When Cas runs his fingers through his hair, tilts his chin up to the sky, the ache in his chest subsides. The rain continues to fall, and the cold is creeping into his bones, but he doesn’t care. This is different.

He prays. He wants to. He wants Cas to be his, and he wants to be Cas’s, forever. Cas whispers to him softly, voice almost lost in this hiss of the falling rain. He lets him drag his tongue over his cock, lets him taste it, kiss it, and then — once he’s asked and begged and prayed a hundred times — Cas answers his prayer, thrusts his cock between his lips. He tastes like ichor and iron and wine and his fingers wind a little tighter in Dean’s hair. Dean’s never wanted to please someone this badly in his goddamn life. He’s good at sucking cock, he knows he is, but for Cas, he wants to be better than good. He wants Cas to need him, to know him, to never leave him. He runs his tongue down the length of Cas’s cock, wraps his hand around the base. He drags his tongue over the head, slow and rough and teasing. He keeps his eyes on Cas’s. When his cock hits the back of his throat, Dean feels like he’s about to fucking ascend. When Cas pulls him to his feet it feels like rapture. His legs are shaking; he all but collapses against him, his angel, and then Cas’s lips find his and Cas holds him up, pressing softer kisses on him now, sweet and deft and silent.

“Good boy,” he murmurs, and Dean feels lightheaded.

“Yeah?” he manages to breathe, in between Cas’s soft, persistent kisses.

“Yes,” Cas murmurs simply. “That was good,” and Jesus Christ, why does hearing that drive him crazy? Cas’s hand finds the tear in Dean’s ribs, palm like an open flower, and there’s a moment, warmth, and the pain is gone. Dean moans into Cas’s kiss, keening, presses his hips against him. For a moment Cas pulls back; Dean’s left breathless, aching, Cas’s fingers tracing the line of his jaw. Then the air around them rents itself in two, and suddenly Cas’s lips are on him again, but the world is upside down; the wall is gone; the air is closer, drier—

He tries to right himself, get purchase, and realises he’s flat out, sheets beneath his head. Cas’s had is still at his jaw, gentle, kind, and he realises with a lurch that the angel is fucking straddling him. He gasps, pressing up into Cas’s kiss so hard he can feel the bruise it’s going to leave on his lips.

“Where—” he manages to breathe out, the last vestige of his dignity wondering where exactly they are, though right now he’s so turned on he’d gladly beg Cas to fuck him in front of a freaking bar full of people — his dick twitches in his pants at that thought and he thinks he notices Cas’s eyes darken — that’s a thought to explore at a later date —

“An unoccupied room. This motel is not popular,” Cas murmurs, his lips grazing the hollow of Dean’s throat. His hands find Dean’s, loosening his grip on him, and Dean whines in protest; he wants to pull him closer, find some goddamn friction, never let go.

“Quiet,” Cas murmurs. His hands slide along Dean’s wrists, guide them up over his head, press them into the mattress, and Dean’s breath comes out in a little stutter. Cas blinks at him with those fucking weird, cosmic eyes, and then he’s closer still, pressing little butterfly kisses to his neck. Dean tilts his head back to the stars and gasps. The ache in his chest feels like holy fire, and he forgets everything — god, girls, demons, devils. All he can be sure of are the hands on his wrists, the mouth at his throat, the blood on his tongue, the split in his lip.

“Dean,” Cas’s voice vibrates, soft, just by his ear. A shiver runs down his spine; his eyes flutter shut.

“Yeah?”

“Are you sure?” Cas’s weight shifts slightly; Dean opens his eyes.

Cas’s eyes are bright in the shadows; he’s tossed his coat aside. There’s still blood on his shirt, staining the white, patterning his throat. He can see it when Cas looks away, lifts his chin and gazes across the room He shifts beneath him, a little, til his cock is pressing into Cas’s thigh.

“What?”

“Are you sure?” Cas’s gaze meets his, and there’s no challenge, no threat. Dean’s stomach flips over when he recognises the glimmer in his eyes. There’s no challenge because it’s all possession. Quiet, unyielding, simple. As if it’s all there is.

He swallows. “Yes. I’m sure.”

There’s a split second where Cas doesn’t move, only blinks at him, and he grinds his hips up into Cas in frustration, voice coming out in a whine—

“Please.”

And then Cas’s kissing him like he’s about to die. The press of his body against Dean’s is like a blessing, something otherworldly and dangerous and close to god. Dean can’t think, can’t breathe, can only arch up into the angel at his throat and pray, a broken string of words and sounds and promises that tumble from his lips without thought. When Cas lets go his wrists, his hands tangle in Cas’s hair, trace the curve of his jaw, the hollow of his throat. Cas’s shirt is gone, and he jerks his own off over his head, rough and careless, and when Cas’s palm presses against the brand on his shoulder like it’s a prayer, a rite, some secret sacred invocation that only they know, only they will ever know, Dean loses his mind, desperate, aching—

Cas draws back for a split second. His hair is tousled, his skin like marble in the half light. Dean’s heart is hammering like it’s going to leap out of his chest; he gasps, breathes, collapses back onto the bed.

“Cas,” he whispers, hands restless, reaching. “Come back, come back, please.”

He feels Cas’s weight shift, move, and when he opens his eyes Cas is beside him, eyelashes ghosting against his cheek. His lips press softly against Dean’s jaw, just below his ear, and suddenly Dean’s eyes are wet, and he has no idea why. His hands find his belt; he slips free of his jeans, his pants. He knows what he wants, and he doesn’t want to stop, to think. The air is warm against his naked skin but he feels vulnerable, strange; he rolls towards Cas, shields himself against his body.

Cas catches his chin with the pad of his thumb; soft, tender. He traces the sides of his body with the tips of his fingers, and his eyes are dark, brilliant, and Dean’s trembling because this is different, this is different from any guy, any girl, anyone he’s ever been with before. No one has ever looked at him like this before. The way Cas touches him, it’s like he’s the one who’s divine.

Cas presses him gently onto his back with a kiss, reverent, and his hand drifts down, over his stomach, his hips, finds his cock. He drags his fingers along the length of it, slow, playful, and Dean whines into the kiss, pleading. Suddenly his dick is slick, wet, and he moans, twisting in Cas’s hand.

“How—” he gasps, and Cas’s voice is just a breath in his ear.

“I’m an angel, Dean.”

When Cas pushes his legs open, and slips between them — when he trails kisses down Dean’s stomach, runs his tongue down the crease where his thigh meets his hip — when he kisses Dean so hard he draws blood, and then slips his fingers into Dean’s mouth — Dean’s gone. He can feel his own cock leaking against his stomach, so exposed and vulnerable and untouched. He needs this, needs Cas to touch him, hold him, want him. He swears out loud when Cas’s spit slick fingers slide between his asscheeks, tease at his hole. He pushes into his touch, craving more, needing to feel—

And then Cas’s tongue grazes his cock, his thigh, his asshole, and he’s trembling, bucking on the bed beneath him; his hands find Cas’s shoulders and he grabs him, pleading, as Cas’s tongue, hot and wet and obscene, teases at his fluttering hole. Cas’s gaze flicks up to meet his, eyes glittering, lips bruised, the column of his throat stark in the half light, and Dean is suddenly hit by the fact that this is an angel, this is not a man, this is an angel, a soldier of god, a force of nature, divine and unknowable and sacred. Cas slips up over him and presses a kiss against his open mouth, presses his palm against his aching dick, and slowly, agonisingly, pushes his cock inside him.

Dean’s lost. His throat is tipped back to the stars, stars obscured by a plywood and mortar and brick. He rocks onto Cas’s cock, and Cas whispers in his ear; soft, calm, quiet, tender. He moves slowly, gently, like Dean is fragile, sacred. Like he matters. He presses kisses to his lips, his throat, his shoulders as he pushes deeper in, as Dean gasps and presses up to meet him, wanting, always wanting. His hand grips Dean’s cock, thumb flicking lazily over the head, smearing pre-come and Dean could swear he’s enjoying this, toying with him, making him wait. He whimpers beneath him, tries to arch his hips in time with Cas’s lazy, teasing thrusts.

Cas lowers his mouth to Dean’s ear, whispers, his voice rough.

“Wait.”

Dean can’t wait, can’t think about anything but the ache between his thighs, the gentle fingers teasing him, the fact Cas pushed in even further as he whispered wait, bottomed out, flush against Dean’s prostate and just holding him there, not moving. He shakes his head, protests, tries to grind into Cas’s palm, but Cas tuts, sighs, brushes his thumb across his lips.

“I told you to wait.”

“Please, Cas— I can’t wait, I— please—”

Cas’s eyes are bright, searching.

“What do you want?”

“You know, Cas— you—”

“I want you to say it.”

“Please— Cas, please—”

Cas’s gaze flicks down, over his throat, the expanse of his chest, his leaking cock. He shifts, and Dean moans beneath him. His hand comes to meet Dean’s jaw, dragging the pad of his thumb down over his lower lip, gazing as if he’s curious, thoughtful.

“I want you to say it.”

His voice is low and rough and it sends a shiver down Dean’s spine. He’s a mess; he needs this, like he doesn’t remember needing before; and the fact Cas wants him to say it is somehow even better, even more—

“I want you to fuck me. Please. Please.”

Cas doesn’t move, still watching him, as if lost in thought. He twitches his hand a little around Dean’s cock, rubs his thumb over his aching head, and something in Dean snaps, and the words tumble from his lips before he can stop them—

“I need you to fuck me, Cas, I need it, I’m begging you, I need it, I need you, I need you here, please, god, please, Cas, please, please, just fuck me, touch me, make me yours, I can’t—”

And then his words are cut off by Cas’s kiss, hard, rough, dominant; one hand on Dean’s throat, the other like a vice around his leaking cock, and he’s fucking him so hard Dean cries out, sound lost on Cas’s lips. Dean wraps his legs around him, pulls him closer, closer, closer, and Cas’s hand finds his shoulder, palm like fire against Dean’s brand. Dean’s hips stutter and he gasps, his cum hot and wet against his ribs. Cas’s mouth is at his throat, his lips, and then he pulls Dean toward him, Dean’s forehead pressed against him as he comes, head tipped back and moaning, eyes lidded, lips parted, dishevelled and messy and divine and his.

***

He falls asleep in his arms.

There is a split in his lip; Cas brushes it softly with his finger. His healing touch is light, deft.

He moves very little; he doesn’t want to wake Dean.

Sleep. It looks peaceful. The warring emotions that usually colour Dean’s brow have all but faded. For a brief moment, Cas considers closing his eyes; perhaps there is bliss in the wilful dulling of the senses.

But that would mean taking his eyes off Dean.

Anger — unfamiliar, strange — courses through him; he had failed last night. Failed to protect the man who sleeps, now, mercifully whole, in his arms.

He would not make the same mistake again.

Dean turns in his sleep, turns toward him, nestles into Cas’s chest. His eyelashes flutter against him, his breath warm on Cas’s skin.

Cas feels — peaceful. Anger, guilt, joy; the messy milieu of human emotion is startling and strange. But this is different.

He knows this. The ache in his chest, the fire that burns. Faith. It is, perhaps, the only thing he has ever truly known. And for millennia, he had never questioned where to place it.

Dean murmurs in his sleep, and Cas traces his fingers over his chest, sweet and gentle and slow. By morning, there are a hundred Enochian love letters patterned, invisible, onto Dean’s ribs.

The stars fade, and the sun rises, and Cas watches over Dean.

This is faith.

[iam93percentstardust]

hey! i hope you’re having an amazing day. this is just me popping in your inbox to say that’s youre one of my favourite writers and you got me really interested in winteriron (honestly one of the cutest ships) are there any fics/authors ii could reccomend?

Hi there! Thank you so much! I love this ship so much, they’ve got such potential for both fluff and angst. They really are one of my favorite ships to write and I’m glad I was able to write so much for them this year. I certainly do have plenty of recs for you, starting with my favorite authors:

@riotwritesthings: started writing last year, I highly recommend just about everything Riot writes but especially Road Hazards, Melt into Me (Your Words are My Own), and When is a bed not a bed? (When you’re not in it)

@hddnone: so many stories and all so good! Has nearly 100 Winteriron works on ao3 and you will not regret reading any of them, though fair warning that some of them are Team Cap Critical. Especially recommend Honey Pot, You’ve Got Mail, and A Bit(e) of Danger

@monobuu: mostly an artist but sometimes writes stories as well. i recommend Ravioli, Invincible Summer, and Meet the Fam

@tisfan and @27dragons: can’t make a Winteriron rec list without including the both of them. They work together a lot but you should definitely take a look at their own stuff as well. I recommend Safe and (the) Sound, Kiss Me Thru the Phone, and Stark, Naked

@ad1thi: currently taking a bit of a hiatus and working on non-Marvel works but I love everything Adi writes, particularly her entire Bollywood but Make it Gay series, which isn’t always Winteriron but wonderful nonetheless. I recommend the Greek Gods AU, 1000 Lives (For You), and we’re connected

@the-winter-writer: lots of smut and all absolutely fantastic! I like Precious Treasure, Winter Wings, and Instinct

@rayshippouuchiha: definitely an iconic writer for this fandom. Really great if you’re looking for genderbends. Writes a lot of absolutely incredible fics and not just for Winteriron but my personal favorites are The (Not So) Great Pretender, Fearful Symmetry, and The Mistletoe Kiss Polka

Finely Honed (jaqen_hgar): once again very iconic. you’ve probably read at least one of their works even if didn’t know. I recommend Shameless, Today’s Forecast, and Practice Makes Perfect

@lovelyirony: mostly writes ficlets here on tumblr and a multishipper (I don’t know why I’m saying that like it’s a bad thing, I’m a multishipper), also a fan of Sharon Carter and that’s the thing that made me follow her so you know

@amethystinawrites: I only recently started working their works but I’m loving everything I’ve come across so far. I recommend Tech Support and I Won’t Hold My Breath

AvocadoLove: also writes a lot of Stony and Stuckony, which I love a lot, but for their Winteriron works, I recommend Amalgam and Dead Man’s Switch

Dracusfyre: another one I’m new to. I literally just started reading their works today so I don’t have any recs for them yet but one of my friends loves them so I’m going to go with you should definitely take a look at their works

Eirlyssa: has some anti-Team Cap works so keep an eye out for that if that’s not your thing but writes very good Winteriron. I recommend Guide Me Home (Guide My Heart) and Always (I’ll Be There)

@imposter-human: one of the first MCU blogs I ever followed! I recommend childhood memories, speak my language, and lost in translation

As for specific works I like:

Four Strings and Second Chances by Vashoth

It was reluctance to let one of his finest inventions ever out of his grasp that made him take a couple days over a week to send the arm to Pepper’s office. But all things considered, Tony figured that sending finest prosthetic that had ever come into existence--literally grasping an olive branch--was one of the classiest gifts he’d ever given. He’d included a note and everything. ‘Barnes,

Can help with installation. Or not. Up to you. --Stark'

Who is the Mechanic? by @akira-of-the-twilight

The Asset watched as his handlers brought in a stranger—a man with a metal object stuck to his chest that was hooked to a car battery.

The handlers shoved the man onto the stool where many who had operated on the Asset’s arm in the past had sat before.

“Asset,” one handler said, “meet the Mechanic. He will be responsible for the upkeep of your arm. Should anything malfunction, kill him.”

The Asset eyed the Mechanic. The Mechanic was glassy-eyed and unresponsive.

He’d probably be dead in a week.

The Fix by SleepsWithCoyotes

Right, because Tony...Tony fixes things. He remembers thinking that, not for the first time.

Paths are Made by Walking by @potrix-the-queerschlaeger

The road to recovery is long, winding and a different one for every person walking it. Bucky chooses to help himself the only way he knows how; by doing what he does best.

Or, alternatively; the one in which Tony is a mess and accidentally kick-starts Bucky’s protective mother hen instincts.

The Evidence by StrivingArtist

Didn’t notice. Right. Sure. Two brilliant minds, two super spies, and a god didn’t notice when the chattiest man they knew stopped making sound. They just seemed happier than before. Brighter and more cheerful than before. They just seemed like they were more comfortable with him around when he was stone silent.

Fuck it.

He knew they noticed.

And he knew they liked him better this way.

Shadowed Hearts and Winter Souls by NotEvenCloseToStraight

The mid-1800s and Antonio Carbonell Stark is caught in a scandal with his lover. Desperate for a chance to escape the trouble and his own broken heart, Tony accepts a proposal from a mysterious Russian heiress and flees the country.

Natalia Romanova is in trouble of her own and has enough secrets to make Tony's head spin but somehow they settle into a fake marriage and calm day-to-day together, and everything works... until her half brother comes home and their life is disrupted again.

James is somber and silent, brutal and nearly broken and scarred, a soldier of the resistance. His heart is cold and gaze like ice, but his hands are hot and lips are warm and Tony finds himself ignoring the blood on James's palms and the shadows in his soldier’s eyes, and falling in love.

When danger lands at their doorstep, Natalia and Tony have to pack up and leave, running away in the middle of the night and leaving their men behind.

The distance between Tony and James gets longer every day, and Natalia has been keeping a secret for that can’t be hidden much longer. With no place to call home and a thousand miles between them and the men they love, what are Tony and Natalia supposed to do?

Puppy Love by Reioka

Bucky is learning to become a person again. When some guy starts crying all over Natasha's dog, he decides he's doing better than he originally thought.

Describe Your Perfect Date by ali_aliska

After getting turned down by Bucky, Tony decides it’s time to move on from his massive crush. He tries online dating—Pepper’s idea, not his—but the only thing worse than getting rejected is getting rejected and finding out your soulmate-level match is Clint Barton, all in the same day.

Clint, of course, does not let opportunities like this go to waste, but he’s driving Tony nuts for a good cause, he swears.

Bucky’s just trying to do the right thing and fails spectacularly, but it all works out in the end.

Rocket Science by marsmaywonder and orbingarrow

Sleep-deprived and under-caffeinated, grad student Tony falls asleep in a conveniently empty classroom and wakes up in the middle of Bruce’s Physics 101 course. After seeing a groggy Tony fumble a simple question, actual-student Bucky offers to tutor him. In a moment of “oh no; he’s cute” panic, Tony takes him up on it. Now, in addition to his already complicated life, Tony has to figure out the answer to the incredibly messy question: “How do you look like you’re failing the class, when you literally wrote the book?”

What’s Good for the Goose by Taste_is_Sweet

For this nonny prompt at the Imagine Tony and Bucky comm on Tumblr:

"A soulmate AU where an immortal goose shows up one day to lead you to your soulmate, the challenge is surviving the goose." (Full prompt in notes.)

We all have soulmates, and every soulmate pair shares an animal guide. The Guide is there to lead you to your One True Love, and they represent the aspects of the psyche that you both share. They appear when you're about to meet your soulmate, and often materialize in moments of great personal crisis, offering hope and support. There are stories upon stories about how someone's Guide appeared to lead them to their One True, or how the barest glimpse of their Guide eased their hearts and gave them hope in the midst of despair. The newly-rescued almost always attribute their Guide with giving them the strength and courage to hang on.

Animal Guides are ephemeral, ethereal, and elusive. They are, most often, no more than a warm presence or flicker out of the corner of one's eye. They are incarnate symbols of perseverance, optimism and hope. Foretellers of happiness, and the grand destiny of love.

Except for geese. Geese are assholes.

and so, we unfold by TheKitteh

Senbazuru. Thousand Cranes.

An ancient Japanese legend that promises anyone who folds a thousand origami cranes will be granted a wish by the gods. Some stories believe you are granted happiness and eternal good luck, instead of just one wish, such as long life or recovery from illness or injury.

Bucky’s not big on believing in any legends, not after all that has happened. He just wants to create something for a change, not destroy.

He needs to prove himself that he can be trusted to handle something delicate. He doesn’t need a promise of a wish come true. He just,- needs to do this for himself.

He doesn’t need noticing how sad, tired Stark looks. Doesn’t need to want to do something for the man, when he can barely do anything for himself. --- Tony simply goes through days and motions. He deals with the Avengers, with R&;D, with the rewritten Accords. All of it, it’s nothing new really. He just wants to get things done.

What’s new is seeing Barnes hunched over the coffee table, one step away from ripping a glossy magazine apart in the middle of the night.

And why the hell Barnes keeps looking at him during the days after like he’s a puzzle to be solved?

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