#there you go brain i actually wrote the thing xD

[tiredassmage]

betting on a sunrise

I insist that there was a missed opportunity for Nik to drain that Cassandra Sunrise right in front of Hunter and be almost bored about it, so my brain insisted that we may as well write something to fix it. So, here we are: we'll let Nik steal the spotlight of being Nine for just a moment so that I can have this as a little amusement.

Also posted to ao3(x). And, ofc, Imperial Agent spoilers for the chapter 2 prelude, The Master Strategem.

rating: teen (some swearing); characters: hunter, the imperial agent, shoutout to our best support vector hyllus

Neon lights so vibrant and eclectic they’d be burned into the back of your eyelids for another three days, even in your sleep. At least Nar Shadaa never changed - a reliable bastion of backstabbing, gambling, backstabbing, cartels and street gangs.

And backstabbing, of course.

Still enough to make Nikihlus’s lip curl back slightly over his teeth. And still, he’d rather his chances here than the cloying egos of Dromund Kaas. Or that killer humidity, for another.

“Many auras here oscillate… wildly, agent.” Vector Hyllus cocks their head with the faintest trace of a frown at the corner of their lips. A blue twi’lek woman in a fit of laughter stumbles into their shoulder on her way out with her companion without so much as a glance back. “It is… interesting to sort through.”

“Been to many a cantina, Vector?”

“The nest is not without its celebrations, if that is what you are inquiring, agent.”

The zabrak nearly rolled his eyes, though settled for inclining his head towards the bar. “You’ll have to forgive me if I pass on participating, given the opportunity.”

“Each to their own taste,” they replied lightly. Their eyes drifted across the room as the pair picked their way around a few tables, while the agent was clearly concerned with making for the bar. “We believe it best we do not imbibe at this time. We shall watch your back.”

Nikihlus cast a glance at them over his shoulder. “Suit yourself.” He gestured towards the wall at the end of the bar. “Try to keep yourself out of trouble.”

“Noted.” Certainly they both knew that was why Kaliyo had not accompanied them to this particular rendezvous.

It was curious enough Imperial Intelligence would have one alien Cipher, he could’ve argued. Not that they’d make half so odd a pair here on the Hutt moon, and Hyllus was not exactly much less of a curiosity. Nik could’ve likely enjoyed the higher threat of something starting a brawl with the Rattataki at his side, but rules were rules with their Imperial masters.

For now, at least. And he wasn’t half as much as interested in trying to explain Djannis’s plan to Keeper’s stiff lips. He was, perhaps, on enough of the woman’s bad side as it was.

Nikihlus sighed as he finally rested his arms against the bar. Something strong ought to take the edge off of the work. At the very least, it was far preferable to wasting time wondering if Keeper thought this was some amusing jest for what had transpired on the Dominator. And far more preferable than trying to puzzle out that particular master’s ideas of fate. It was more than enough to make a man miss working for the Hutts.

“Well, hello there.”

Nik closed his eyes and buried a groan somewhere beneath his stomach before he let his eyes slide to his right and settle on the blonde perched against the bar two seats down already wearing a smile.

At least make it good.

The man opened an arm to gesture to a glass beside him. “I suppose she didn’t want to finish her drink. Perhaps I can interest you in what’s left of a Cassandra Sunrise?”

Nik weighed flashing a scowl against the proffered nearly-full glass. And Hyllus’s absence from his side to comment on accepting drinks on the job - from strangers in cantinas, no less.

“Perhaps,” Nik allowed a drawl over the word and shifted to lean against one arm on the bartop - a better mirror of his would-be company. “What’ll it cost me?”

The blonde’s smile grew, and rather pleased, too, with a chuckle to match. “Ah, are all Imperial Ciphers so mistrusting?”

Nik stiffened, breath stilling in place as golden eyes narrowed slightly.

Enough to make the blonde laugh again. He pushed off the bar to close the distance between them and slid the glass closer. “Oh, I’m sorry. Pretty presumptuous of me. Though… I suppose I could just have to keep looking for that Cipher somewhere else… Imperials wouldn’t have such a good sense of direction down here with little old us, would they?”

Nik blew a sharp exhale out of his nostrils. Cocky. He pressed a smile to his lips as his company turned like he was about to leave and took up the glass. “It’d certainly be interesting, wouldn’t it?”

“Very,” the blonde agreed. He perched back against the bar. “Couldn’t imagine it’d have anything to do with that Cipher wanting to change sides.”

Nik hummed as he raised the glass to his lips. Not for the faint of heart. “Careful,” he mused, “I might start believing you got this for me instead of your lady friend.”

That grin glittered like a Hutt statue. “Maybe I did. Maybe I didn’t. You certainly gave me enough time. Made the check at the spaceport.”

The kind of burn that might fry the horns off a krayt dragon, that Sunrise. Nik swallowed and held out the glass to inspect the remaining contents. “Reckon your Imperial ‘friend’ would like that, would you..?” He glanced at the blonde over the rim of the glass.

“Codename Hunter, Strategic Information Service.”

Nik flashed a wry smile. “Trying to kill me already, hm?”

Hunter shrugged. “That’s what we’re going to find out, if you still plan on playing along.” For a mercy, that obnoxious little dangle on his lips seemed to be quieted as he eyed Nik, glass to lips again. “Nothing’s free-”

“Except the drink?”

Hunter’s smile dropped, leaving behind only dark eyes that Nik met silently over the glass. “Job first, then we’ll see if you’re worth anything. No sob stories, no complaints, no questions. Then I’ll consider introducing you.”

With all pleasantries discarded, Nik merely inclined his head slightly. “Better keep talking, then.” The Sunrise would only last so long, after all. Without breaking eye contact, he tipped the glass just enough to offer a steady burn.

“There’s a new factory in town, Cipher - a courtesy of a little deal between Nem’ro the Hutt and your dear Empire. It’s supposed to manufacture hunters, crawlers, Jedi-killers… All the best - and nasty - stuff. You’re going to do something about it.”

Nik’s brow raised briefly as he swallowed. Of course I will. Almost empty. “I’ve been known to deal with a few Hutts,” he said. “Here I was thinking it’d almost been too long.”

“Tempting as that may be, save your thoughts of reunions.” Nik rolled his eyes and took up the glass again. “You’ll need your Cipher clearance. Security’s tight, but automated. Get inside. Get me reconnaissance. We talk again when I know what you’re dealing with, and we make this little problem disappear. Deal?”

Nik set down the glass heavily on the bartop and rolled his neck. “Thought you already knew that much, no? Hunters, killers…?”

Nothing shifted in those dark eyes. “Like you said. Try to make it worth my credits.”

“What? Your bosses not like cantina tabs on your write-offs?”

“You deal, or you don’t.” Hunter turned to leave. “We’ll know either way, Cipher. But the next round’s on you. I know how to reach you, so you’ll know where to go. Within an hour, or I might have to come looking for my credits, and your work could get very complicated.”

Nik’s narrowed eyes followed his back as he left. Vector rejoined him as the blonde turned a corner out of the cantina and beyond view. “Agent?” He could hear the mild frown on the Joiner’s face without looking for it.

“So goes our man,” Nik gestured towards the doorway lightly.

“And? We… hope you minded yourself."

Nik hummed thoughtfully. “We’ll see, I suppose. Won’t we?” He blinked and glanced back towards the bar before he dug in his pocket and tossed a few credits out by the empty glass. To cover the tab or, perhaps, to make a bet. “We shall see, my friend. Come then. I’ve a feeling Kaliyo will be jealous for not bringing her along, so we may as well make it a damn good story.”

[arandomao3user]

I know you just wrote more TimBern stuff, but I'm giving you this ask whenever you want to bestow more on us :3

I'm desperate for more TimBern content, especially how Tim's friends react to them xD

Man, wrong time to ask, I'm listening to "Henry, Come On" by Lana Del Rey (say what you want about her, but her music is a brain and heart scratcher) and all I am thinking of is angst rn.

Also, believe it or not, I am in this fandom to anger like, 80% of the inhabitants because I have only reason Tim Drake: Robin, and I need to reread it another two times before anything even sticks in my little brain. So, if you're talkin' 'bout Sebastian Ives or, like, Pru? No can do, can't write 'em, never knew them, didn't know Ives was a ginger till yesterday... Anyways, I can sorta do Cassie, Kon, and Bart. 👈👈 Anyone else? Ha. Ha...

I really need to figure out how to trick myself into reading comics in a way that gives me dopamine >:/

Tim: Cassie, I need help ASAP!

Cassie: ??? With wh— why are you covered in bruises?

Tim: Kinky sex, that's all the explanation you're gonna get. I need help covering it up before our meeting.

Cassie: Tim, since when did you have kinky sex?

Tim: Since I started dating an ex cultist, now hurry up!

Cassie: Since what?

—

Tim, laying on Bernard: Mmmmmm, you're warm...

Bernard, playing with his hair: Thanks, you're pretty.

Tim: How pretty?

Bernard: The prettiest.

Tim: Pretty enough to kiss?

Bernard: Pretty enough to do a lot worse than just kiss you.

Tim: Oh? Like what? Gonna hold my hand?

Bernard: I would love to hold your hands.

Tim: Well, it would keep them warm.

Bernard, lowering his hands to rest on Tim's hips: If that's all you care about, I know ways to make you really warm.

Tim: Only if you tell me how pretty I am while you do it.

Bernard: You don't even need to ask, I would do that anyways, love dove.

Tim: Then do it, honey bear...

—

Bart: . . . Wait, Robin is gay!?

Tim: Bisexual, actually.

Kon: How'd you figure that out?

Tim: I fought a cult beside a guy who had a crush on me.

Kon:

Cassie:

Bart: YOU FOUGHT A CULT WITHOUT US!? >:O

—

Bernard, pressing kisses all over Tim's face:

Tim: Bear! C'mon, we gotta go, we're gonna be late.

Bernard: Mm, dunno, kinda wanna keep kissing you.

Tim: We promised to go to this gala.

Bernard: You promised, then begged me to go with you.

Tim: You do get to see me in a suit.

Bernard: I get to see you in a suit all the time, Timboo.

Tim: But you get to see me act like a stupid rich guy for my public persona.

Bernard: I saw that plenty in high school.

Tim: How dare you! I'll have you know I didn't act around you.

Bernard, smirking: Oh, so you were just a loser?

Tim: If I was a loser, you were a bigger loser.

Bernard: You hung around this loser.

Tim: Well, you're dating this loser.

Bernard: So glad that I am, I like losers, very attractive.

Tim: . . . We really gotta go.

Bernard: Lead the way.

Tim: . . . Five more minutes.

Bernard, pulling him closer to kiss him again: Sure, just five more minutes.

—

Bernard: Okay, I think I can lift you now.

Tim: Are you sure you wanna try?

Bernard: Trust me, Timboo, I definitely can.

Tim: Mhmm... Okay, pick me up.

Bernard, grabbing Tim's thighs and laughing when he hops up: Okay! Okay!

Tim, laughing as he wraps his arms and legs around him: Don't drop me!

Bernard: You're like a koala!

Tim: Do not drop me!

Bernard: I'm not! I got you!

Tim: You're wobbling!

Bernard: Because you're moving!

Tim: Don't drop me!

Bernard: I'm not!

Tim: Okay, okay... Now carry me some where.

Bernard: What? Not scared about being dropped?

Tim: I'll bring you down with me if you drop me.

Bernard, carrying him to their bed: Really? Betrayal.

Tim, kissing him: More like a suicide pact. Romeo and Juliet style.

Bernard: I don't think they had a suicide pact?

Tim: Eh, good, I don't like the forbidden lovers trope anyways.

Bernard: Oh yeah, just the whole secret identity thing?

Tim: That's sexy.

Bernard: Can't argue there, love dove...

—

Bernard, tackling Tim playfully into their bed: Well well well, looks like I've caught a love bird.

Tim, snorting: Caught? Maybe I let you.

Bernard: Mm, sounds like poor self preservation skills. Do you know what I could do to you?

Tim: Dunno, depends, what are you gonna do?

Bernard: Hmm... Probably just look at you for a bit.

Tim: What? Sounds boring.

Bernard: Not my fault, you're just so handsome. Like a pretty picture.

Tim, grinning: Yeah? Did you stalk my social media?

Bernard: I used to, actually.

Tim: No way.

Bernard: Alas, when I was but a boy, I'd stalk Tim Drake's social media and save all his pictures to my phone, thinking for hours as I looked at them, "Wow, he us the prettiest guy ever. I wish he was a girl so I could kiss him breathless."

Tim: Aw—

Bernard: And jerked off to them.

Tim: REALLY!? Kill the mood!? Just like that!?

Bernard, laughing as Tim playfully shoves him: What!? I was a boy with needs, Timothy!

Tim: You did not!

Bernard: I didn't, but I thought about it in several occasions.

Tim: Oh my gods! You're horrible.

Bernard: You love me for it.

Tim: I love you in spite of it.

Bernard: In spite? You've been around Jason to much. Did you even use that word right?

Tim: I honestly don't know. I'm going off vibes.

Bernard: Is that how you failed your English assignments?

Tim: Probably...

—

[basketonthedoorstepofthefbi]

Spencer Reid x Read fic. Reid and Reader are friends, like best friends. Reader is always offering Reid donuts and listening to his fun facts and info dumps. It's one of those, they both like each other, but also are convinced the other doesn't like them.

Spencer is taking care of a slightly drunk reader whose grandmother called and asked why they're not engaged when they're younger sibling is married and expecting a child. At some point Spencer makes his ever classic comment about how it's safer to kiss and drunk reader, before being able to think, kisses Spencer. I hope that made sense.

OOPS I DID EXACTLY THAT

Safer to Kiss (Spencer Reid x Fem!BAU!Reader)

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem!BAU!Reader

Word Count: 2899

Warnings: Mentions of food, drinking alcohol, mild cursing, outdated expectations of women, and lots of pining

A/N: Hi I wrote this in 2 hours and was extremely entertained, please enjoy and if you send me a fic request I'll probably do it bc this is my hyperfixation hobby right now and very much keeping the demons at bay xD @bxm-1012 thank you for dropping by my inbox! I am VERY tempted to make a part 2 of this, I hope you enjoy! c:

-----

The whole expiration date thing that women faced was, in your humble opinion, complete and utter bullshit. Here you were, slowly approaching thirty (definitely still told people you were twenty-five, when, in fact, you were actually twenty-eight), and the biological clock was ticking. No, you didn’t want kids. Not right now, anyway. Not when you were only two years into your career as a profiler for the FBI’s prestigious Behavioral Analysis Unit. Not when you still had tons of things to check off your bucket list - go to Europe, visit an independent bookstore in every state, pilot a helicopter. 

And you didn’t buy into that whole ‘once a woman hits thirty, her stock plummets’ crap. Not usually, anyway. 

But Nan’s phone calls always left you questioning your existence. 

Back home in Ohio, your little sister, Kendra, had just announced her pregnancy. Three years younger than you (ironically, the age you told everyone you were), and married to a power plant manager, Kendra was living the dream of a woman from the 1950s. You tried your best not to look down on it, to wish for more for her - but Kendra was happy. She’d always wanted to be a mother, and you couldn’t imagine anyone better suited for the role. There was nothing wrong with wanting to be a wife and a mother, to devoting one’s life to it. You reminded yourself of that every time you spoke to Kendra. You especially reminded yourself of it every time you spoke to Nan. 

That sympathetic tone your grandmother used when she said, “Oh, Button, you’ll find someone eventually, and you’ll be just as happy as Kenny” was like nails on a chalkboard. You resisted the urge to gag into your speakerphone and simultaneously rip your grandmother a new one. You wanted so badly to explain to her that you were perfectly fulfilled with your life. 

You helped lock up bad guys on a weekly basis, you wanted to remind Nan. Your brain was one of few that had been chosen for a task force that caught criminals based on their behavior. It was amazing, working for the BAU, bouncing ideas off of your colleagues, finding a family within this small group of people that spent more than forty hours a week together. 

Nan didn’t see it that way. She wanted you to be just like Kendra. She wanted you to have that white picket fence in the suburbs, with a broad-shouldered husband and two little tykes running at your feet. Domestic bliss just wasn’t in the cards for you, you’d decided. And that was okay.

You were still reeling from your conversation with Nan the night before when you walked in to work on Monday morning. It was Derek who caught the raging RBF first. “Woah, pretty girl. Pump. Your. Brakes.” He said, halting you just as you entered the BAU’s bullpen, holding a hand up to stop you. 

“Good morning to you, too, Derek,” You flashed him a phony grin, and he rolled his eyes. 

“And you’re grumpy this morning… why, exactly?” Derek asked, turning to walk beside you, essentially escorting you to your desk. 

“Because I’m allowed to be?” You proffered, shrugging your shoulders, not really wanting to talk about it with him. You loved Derek - hell, you loved all your coworkers - but he was not the person you wanted to go to with these thoughts. You didn’t really want to talk to anyone about it, actually. You just wanted to ride the cranky train until it came to a complete stop. 

Emily was returning from the kitchenette with a fresh mug of coffee and decided that the conversation concerned her as well. “What’s going on?” she asked. 

“Y/L/N’s wearing her cranky pants this morning,” Derek filled her in. 

“Oh, those so don’t match your blouse, Y/N,” Emily teased, winking at you with a smirk before looking at Derek. “Cut her some slack. No one likes Mondays.” Derek held up his palms defensively. “Alright, alright. Forgive me for being a concerned citizen.” 

“It’s appreciated,” You told Derek genuinely before setting your bag down at your desk. “But unnecessary.” 

It wasn’t until later in the morning, around ten, that anyone bothered you about your obvious bad mood again. This time it was Spencer, the one person you couldn’t possibly be annoyed with. He rolled on his desk chair around the partition that separated your workspaces, holding his hand out expectantly, like he usually did this time of day. 

Without speaking, you opened the bottom drawer of your desk and pulled out the white bag of mini powdered donuts that you always kept in stock. They were your guilty pleasure snack, and one of the first things you and Spencer bonded over when you started at the BAU two years ago. That, and the fact that you were the closest agents in age, was how you got along so well so quickly. Over several cases, varying in degrees of intensity, you and Spencer became really great friends. Best friends, actually. 

There wasn’t anyone else in your life that you trusted more than Spencer Reid. 

You opened the bag of powdered donuts and shook one haphazardly into Spencer’s palm, then grabbed one for yourself. Silently, you cheers-ed your donuts together, and ate them simultaneously, making weird-but-comfortable eye contact as you did. 

“Derek says you’re in a bad mood today,” Spencer pointed out with a teasing smirk on his face. A smirk, and white sugar blanketing his upper lip.

“Derek’s full of shit,” you grinned after swallowing your snack, the smile on your face totally facetious. “I’m extremely happy.” 

“I can tell,” Spencer snickered as you set the powdered donuts back in your snack drawer, closing it with a clank. You watched as he brought both of his legs up into his desk chair, crossing them like a kindergartner. 

The action made your stomach flutter. You’d felt strongly about Spencer for a really long time, probably a year and half, if you had to try and pinpoint it. But there was no use in going down that road with him. For one thing, he was your best friend, and you didn’t want to risk flushing the best relationship in your life down the toilet. For another thing, you knew it was one hundred percent impossible that he could feel the same way. 

“What’d you do this weekend?” Spencer asked, and you could tell by the question that he was trying to discover the source of your poor attitude. 

“Stayed home, caught up on chores,” You said, crossing your knees and leaning back in your seat, your expression telling him that you knew exactly what he was doing. As much fun as playing mind games with Spencer was, you decided to throw him a bone. “Spoke to my grandmother on the phone last night.” 

Spencer nodded understandingly. “Say no more,” he said with a chuckle. “She gave you the whole ‘when are you going to get married’ spiel again?” 

You nodded. “Unfortunately. I usually don’t let it bother me, but for some reason it’s just, like, lurking in the back of my mind today.” You shrugged your shoulders and exhaled through your nose. “What about you?” You asked. 

“What about me?” Spencer arched a brow, and you rolled your eyes playfully. 

“What’d you do this weekend?” 

“Oh,” Spencer began, pursing his lips for a moment, like he was hesitant to tell you. “I actually went on a date.” 

Your stomach flipped. “Oh yeah?” You choked out, forcing a smile. “Who with?” 

“That girl, Lisa, from the coffee shop, the one you told me wouldn’t stop ‘ogling my boy band hair’,” Spencer held up air quotes when he repeated your words from memory.

You recalled the cute barista from the coffee shop just down the highway from Quantico, a popular morning stop for agents on their way to work. You tried to stop the jealousy from turning your blood into fire. “How was it?” You asked, trying to resist the urge to sit on the edge of your seat, trying not to hang on his every word. 

Spencer shrugged his shoulders. “It was okay. She was very nice, but there just wasn’t…” he trailed off, gesticulating as the words failed to come to that supercomputer brain of his. 

“It was like a donut without powdered sugar on it?” You suggested with a small chuckle.

“Yeah,” Spencer agreed, nodding, meeting your eyes and smiling, mildly amused. “Exactly.” 

Spencer went back to his desk a few minutes later, and the rest of the day went on. It was quiet, especially for a day at the BAU. There were, weirdly enough, no open cases right now, so you spent the day catching up on paperwork, which there was always plenty of. 

You caught the elevator about ten minutes after five with Spencer in tow, and you held the door open for him. It was just the two of you as you made the descent from the sixth floor, and Spencer leaned against the back wall. “Plans tonight?” He asked. 

“Not really, no,” You said, shaking your head. “Why, you want to do something?” You asked. 

Spencer nodded. “There’s this landscape and nature photography exhibit at one of the galleries downtown,” he said. “Might be fun. There’s this artist, Milton Harvell, who takes photos of renowned locations around the world but zooms in on an obscure detail and gives the framed photograph to the person who correctly guesses the location.” 

You smiled slowly at that. You loved it when Spencer went off on one of his tangents. You found it completely adorable. “It’s actually quite fascinating,” Spencer went on, an amused tone lining his voice, making it sound lighter. “Kind of like a Where’s Waldo, but in reverse. There was this one photograph he took of the Louvre in Paris, but he zoomed in really tightly on a young boy enjoying an ice cream cone. He even went so far as to edit the photograph to make it look like it was a different time of day. The four thousand and eighth person to view the photograph was the person who guessed the correct location.” Spencer’s head bobbed and he was smiling like an idiot. 

God, you were down bad. 

“Was the four thousand and eighth person… you?” You asked, narrowing your eyes at him scrupulously and allowing a teasing grin to cross your face. 

“The photo’s hanging in my living room,” he confirmed. 

You laughed softly. “Will there be alcohol at this function?” You asked him, and he nodded. 

That was all you needed to hear. 

— — —

You and Spencer went straight to the art gallery from work, sharing a cab rather than bothering with your cars. You immediately bought a glass of red wine, and began to follow him around the gallery. You weren’t an art aficionado, not by any means, but you enjoyed looking at beautiful things, and you especially enjoyed spending time with Spencer that wasn’t hunched over a dead body or trying to map out a killer’s comfort zone. It was a rare occurrence, so you tried to soak it all up as much as possible. 

Plus, your Nan’s words were still lingering in the back of your head. It’ll happen for you someday, Button. Men just don’t find you strong, career types attractive. Maybe you should soften up your look a little. 

You downed your first glass of wine within ten minutes, and caught one of the catering staff passing out champagne almost instantaneously after. The champagne fizzled down your throat as you strolled with Spencer through the art gallery, listening intently as he went on about each piece, rattling off whatever contextual knowledge he had. But you were a little bit biased; you could listen to him list different types of soil and find it interesting. 

After the glass of champagne came another glass of champagne, and by the time you made it to the main exhibit Spencer wanted to see, your cheeks were flushed. It wasn’t that you couldn’t hold your alcohol; rather, it just made you a little bit silly. Your inhibitions were lowered, just like it would affect anyone. But with your arm looped through Spencer’s and your Nan’s nagging message still in the back of your mind, you were perhaps a little more loose than usual. 

As Spencer examined the exhibit, you tapped your foot, unable to keep still, and scanned the open space. Your eyes landed on another patron of the gallery, a conventionally handsome man about your age, and you found yourself unlooping your arm from Spencer’s, subconsciously not wanting to appear taken. 

“Are you gonna go talk to that guy?” Spencer asked, and you snapped your eyes back to his. “Because you can, if you want to. Don’t let me stop you.” 

It was almost like he was daring you to. Spencer’s jaw seemed tense as you examined his expression, the way his gorgeous brown eyes darted from the man and back to you. “You don’t mind?” You asked, arching a brow, almost like a challenge.

Spencer shook his head, his lips pursed. “Not at all. I’ll wait here for you?” 

You nodded, and turned towards the man. There wasn’t any harm in getting a guy’s number, right? Your feelings for Spencer were a lost cause, anyway. Plus, as Nan liked to point out, you weren’t getting any younger. 

The man’s eyes locked on yours and he seemed to understand that you were about to speak with him. He met you halfway, and you shook his hand. “Malcolm Greene,” he introduced himself, and you spouted off your own name in return. “You’re not here with that guy?” He asked, jerking his chin over to Spencer. Your eyes followed Malcolm’s, and you saw Spencer with his body turned towards the photography exhibit, but his head turned to the side, as if he were keeping an eye on you with his peripheral vision. 

“Yeah, I am,” you said, and Malcolm’s head inclined to the side. “I am. I’m here with that guy,” you panicked, suddenly realizing in that moment that you weren’t interested in speaking with Malcolm. No, you had absolutely no interest in spending your time with any other man but Spencer Reid. “I just, uh…” Your cheeks flushed, and you stifled an awkward laugh, anxiously trying to come up with some excuse. “I came over here to tell you that your shoe was united.” 

Your eyes followed Malcolm’s down to his shoes, which were loafers. Laceless loafers. Malcolm’s mouth opened as if to point this out to you, but you managed to stammer words out first. “Ok, well, have a great night, goodbye!” You turned on your heel and marched back over to Spencer, your cheeks red as you reached out for his arm. 

Spencer furrowed his brows down at you as your arm gripped his. “I need another glass of wine,” you confessed. 

Twenty minutes later, after two more glasses of wine and a very watchful eye out for Malcolm, you and Spencer left the art gallery. You were awfully giggly on the cab ride back to your place, cracking puns and humming along to the radio intermittently. Spencer seemed to be amused, but more so concerned with getting you home in one piece. 

As he walked you up the stairs to the door of your apartment building, he was teasing you about your conversation with Malcolm, which you still hadn’t told him completely about. “I still can’t believe you didn’t get his number. You were talking with him for exactly two minutes and twelve seconds. What, in that short of an amount of time, could have turned you off to him so quickly?” He pondered aloud, a playfully mocking tone lining his voice. 

“Listen, I shook his hand! I had my fun!” You exclaimed, bursting into laughter as you leaned against the handrail of the stairs that led up to the door. “Good, clean fun!” 

“You know, the number of pathogens that are passed during a handshake is staggering. It’s actually safer to kiss someone,” Spencer rattled off, and your eyes snapped to meet his. 

You don’t know what took you over. Maybe it was the wine. Maybe it was the way the street lamps reflected in the irises of his eyes, or how you stood just a few inches away from him. Maybe it was his stupid tweed blazer, how he looked like a tenured art history professor despite barely being thirty years old. Maybe it was the way he smelled like pine and printer ink, a combination you wouldn’t have ever thought was attractive. 

But when Spencer said that, you stood up on your toes and kissed him. It was slow and innocent at first, until it passed the border into lingering, and Spencer’s hands found your hips, pulling your body closer to his. There was a cool night breeze that filtered through the space between your bodies, and by the time you pulled your lips away from Spencer’s, and slowly opened your eyes, you were completely red in the face and breathless. 

No, that certainly wasn’t the safest choice you could have made.

——

read part 2 here

[mamuzzy]

So uh because I have my own thoughts on Jango training the Alphas and your post on them made my brain go brrrt.

Do you think Jango named the Alphas or didn't bother? Do you think they knew about Boba? Any more whump headcanons on what Jango put them through?

Ohhh it was a while since I wrote that particular post. xD I read more sources I found uploaded here on tumblr so I see Jango with a bit more nuance.

Thank you for your ask @templarhalo <3 I'm in the mood for clones having emotional distress. xD

✦ I still don't think that Jango hated the clones. More like, he was indifferent toward their personal wellbeing. The clones are products after all and they have to work as intended. Jango's sudden acts of kindness toward the clones always came as a whim, out of nowhere.

✦ The only way Alphas knew they did it good that they still woke up in the morning as themselves. Boba got warm smiles and hugs just for existing.

✦ I think the Alphas saw Jango and Boba together. And this is how they learned some other expressions of emotions. Like watching a totally unreachable thing from behind a glass wall, knowing that you will not experience it. Not from this man anyway. Little Cadet Alphas learned in the subtle way to show kindness to each other, replicating these little gestures: headpat, hugging, kissing, holding hands after some training got very intense.

✦ The contradiction of thoughts from Jango when he saw these subtle expressions of love: He found these boys brilliant during training and imbeciles when outside of it. "they are just mimicking it. They don't know what it means."

✦ Answering your other question, I don't think he bothered with the names either. He probably called them by their designation, or just the numbers. He made it short like A-17, A-26 etc.

✦ My other headcanon about the names that some of them started to use names out of defiance after Alpha-Ø2's recondition and after knowing he got his own name - Spar - from other trainers. Jango didn't care that his Alphas started to use names but if they actually tried to demand him to call them like that, he beated the shit out of them. "I will call you by names when you earned it." It was actually a good motivator to keep them in place with such promise, but needless to say, they didn't earn a name from Jango, nor the grace that Jango would call them by their chosen one.

✦ While some of them already had name during training, most of them got their names after the Battle of Kamino or after famous battles. either naming each other or they got it from the Jedi they worked along with.

✦ Naming the regular troopers came from Alpha-17. Anakin named him Alpha after all (canon), and while he pretended he didn't care, he started to give names to other clones inspired by the jedi. I like to imagine he also named his Alpha brothers whether they liked it or not.

Alpha: This stupid Jedi insisted that I should have a name so now I make it your problem.

✦ I think the Alphas are messed up, emotionally. So much repression in them which makes it hard for them to open up for people. They take pride in their disciplined behaviour (compared to the Nulls at least), but the bitterness always will linger: no matter how they tried their best, in the end they were still failures.

I hope you liked my thoughts, and don't hesitate to tell me yours here or tag me for your potential Alpha post *__*

[on-a-lucky-tide]

Greetings, Father! I just wanted to come by to say I've been reading some of your fics again and 🤌 as always, I am blown away by how good it is. Genuinely, reading them always refresh my mind in some ways (?) cuz it's interesting and the dynamic and flow you do is just so vast and yet so very you.

I do have a question and you're free to answer this ask privately or dm or not, I don't mind xD I am curious on your thought process whenever you write smutty fics, what are the things you fuss over? or what are some things you do to keep the vibes going. For me personally, I don't write a lot of spicy stuff but when I do it's hard for me to really capture the raw need and intimacy a lot of the time (not to mention I have this issue where I like writing the buildup and tension than the actual intercourse part LMAO)

Have a good day/night ahead! o7 I've got a few things I wanna draw from your posts so stay tune too hehe :3

Your tags are always amazing; I wake up and read them over my morning coffee and eggs. So good when other fans of the same skrunkly arseholes love your work about said skrunkly arseholes.

Also, your writing is bloody brilliant. Like, the thing you wrote for Nekro? Blew my brain out. It was gorgeous.

As for the smut...

I use personal experience and what I focus on. I find human bodies very fuckin' sexy, even the bits that other people might think are gross (or they might be embarrassed by). The bits they get coy/shy about me touching, the most intimate parts of them. Yeah those are what I want and they're going in my mouth. Admiring all their unique bits, their freckles, the pattern of their hair, the scars and the stretch marks, their curves and bumps. Arousal, for me, should be represented as similar to hunger; instinctual. Because that's how it processes for me.

If you like the build up, then focusing on the sweet relief of it, the dirty talk - "finally got what you need, baby? does that feel good?" - and how that intimacy of being inside someone (or having them inside you), feeling their heartbeat, listening to their little moans, feeling them tense up involuntarily and wiggle cause it feels so good, watching their bodies give or flex into your hands.

I say "you" here. I can't write x reader, but... ya get the idea.

Write one character like they're starving and tucking into a buffet, I guess?

I have varying levels of "hunger" on the dial. I don't tend to get as visceral in longer works because of the "flow" of the narrative. Like, 15k of narrative and then a sudden 7k of one character gobbing on another's dick would be funny and jarring, but, eh.

[flightfoot]

Marinette Completed Angst Fic Reclist

I know some people really like this genre, so I figured I'd make a list for it! These will obviously all be completed, and none of them will be bashing fics, and PLEASE don't rec any fics on this post that are bashing fics, I don't want to see them.

Some of these will have my own commentary about the fic attached to it, for if I've put them on a previous reclist where I had that commentary written out. But a lot of the older fics won't.

For a fic to count for this, the angst Marinette goes through can't just be her being upset about what someone else is going through, though the angst of the fic doesn't only need to be hers, so long as she has her own angst which is a decently prominent part of the fic.

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one does not love breathing by @wackus-bonkus-maximus

All of Paris watched as Hawkmoth murdered Chat Noir, taking the Black Cat Miraculous for himself. Ladybug swears revenge, but her enemy—and every miraculous in his possession—disappear without a trace.

Six years later, a new team of villains launches an attack for the last remaining Miraculous: Volpina, armed with new powers; Queen Bee, with questionable loyalty; Argos, the new holder of the Peacock Miraculous; and Cat Walker, who Ladybug hates the most.

Takes place after S4 - Strike Back.

This is a simply phenomenal fic. You get to explore a lot of different perspectives, like Felix, Kagami, Marinette, and Adrien’s, just to name a few, and see their different thought processes and plans and priorities, and how it can cause their plans to collide with each other, even when they all ultimately are aiming for a good outcome for everyone. The characters are pretty complex and can mess up at times, even when they’re doing things (or not doing things, looking at you Luka) with the best of intentions. It was a joy to read and a real nail-biter the whole time, I actually wrote a fic for it halfway through just to resolve some of the tension for myself, One Does Not Love Shadows.

It also features the version of Luka I’ve connected best with to date, as he feels like Luka, but also is a lot more fleshed out, and can make some major errors while simply trying to avoid missteps. It’s helped me get a better handle on a character who I’ve generally had a lot of problems with really understanding.

It is an M-rated fic, though I think Wackus is being overly cautious on that front. There’s no sexual content and I wouldn’t put the violence or gore above a T-rating, so I wouldn’t let the rating scare you off.

---

you don’t even know me at all (but I was made for loving you) by @ladyofthenoodle

They didn’t remember each other. The hospital told them there’d been an accident—brain damage—but Alya had told them the truth, later. Who’d they’d been to each other. What they’d given up, and why. But even with their memories of each other gone, Adrien and Marinette are still inextricably tied together—by law, by their social circles, and by their hearts. And in the apartment they share, there’s only one bed.

Yep, it’s the “there was only one bed” trope XD! I especially love how it was used here, how Adrien and Marinette are strangers now but they had a whole life together, and they pine for each other even without remembering, and how Marinette just can’t believe how in love with her Adrien is even though he doesn’t remember her. I loved the emotional turmoil the two of them went through together in the fic, and the resolution, it’s great!

---

fine line by @bbutterflies

“Catwalker?” Loveybug asks. “Hmm?” “Do you remember… what happened before us?” “What do you mean?” “Before we were heroes. Was there someone else?” Catwalker goes quiet for a moment. “I don’t know,” he finally says.

This is a surprisingly angsty take on the Loveybug AU. Here, since the Loveybug and Cat Walker transformations are so unnatural, they’re having negative side effects on Marinette and Adrien, causing them to be constantly exhausted and even to get amnesia the longer they continue using them.

---

do you think I have forgotten about you? by @roseinaugust

Based on the song ‘About You’ by The 1975. Memory Loss. Told in alternating time lines, one leading up to and one dealing with the aftermath of Marinette relinquishing the Miracle Box and the guardianship. Marinette struggles with her life after losing her memory, though there is a persistent voice that calls to her that always seems just out of reach in her memory.

Beautiful memory loss fic here, with seeing Ladybug’s and Chat Noir’s relationship before she gave up the Miracle box, juxtaposed with the present day, when Adrien is only a stranger to her. I could really feel how Marinette was struggling with navigating these new circumstances, with her friends seeming to expect her to remember, to be who she was to them, to Adrien especially, before, and her just… not knowing whether she can do that. It’s got a happy ending though, for those who are concerned about that.

---

Our Tales Are Endless (That’s Why I Tell Them) by @joonapeach

Marinette lives a simple life - one surrounded by pretty dresses, fresh macaroons, and the calming view of Paris. It’s a life she thinks she has always fit in. And yet sometimes, when a certain boy comes by her shop with a flower and a new adventurous story, she can’t help but wonder if there’s something else she’s missing.

This was a truly gorgeous story. It’s the classic “Marinette gives up the Miracle Box and loses her memories” storyline, exploring her life two years later. Even though she’s had time to heal and recover, she still feels like she’s missing something, something big. At least Adrien’s stopping by regularly to tell her stories about Ladybug and Chat Noir, even if she doesn’t understand why they resonate with her so well.

---

I (Wish I) Knew You by @buggachat

University has been hard on Marinette. Making new friends and maintaining her grades is a lot easier said than done when she has to disappear at odd times to fight akumas. She's struggling, and with Alya away with family and Adrien painfully out of reach, she's never felt lonelier.

If only she could talk to someone who really understood her struggles... but it's not like Chat Noir would know anything about loneliness. Right?

Nice aged-up Ladynoir fic here! Marinette’s struggling with losing friends and lovers because of her flakiness due to her superhero activities, until at last she breaks down. Thankfully, Chat Noir’s there at least - and it soon turns out he’s got problems of his own that he’s been hiding.

There’s some fluff and angst, it’s mostly just the two of them navigating life, dealing with their feelings and talking things out.

---

If I Let Myself Love You by @uptoolateart

It’s hard to be a normal girl with a normal life when your mother has terminal cancer. And when fashion model Adrien Agreste moves back to Paris and wants to be Marinette’s friend – or maybe even more – her life is turned upside down again.

How can she risk opening her heart to love when her whole world is falling apart? Especially when Adrien is hiding a dark secret of his own….

- COMPLETE FIC – updates on Sundays

*** No kwamis AU - 100% Adrinette. About half of it is fluffy and half heavy. Please read tags for trigger warnings. ***

This fic can be rough, definitely pay attention to the tags. There’s no villains in this story, it mostly centers around themes of dealing with illness - both being sick and having a loved one who’s terminally ill - and death, grieving someone who’s lost, and how difficult that can be. It can get pretty gut-wrenching at times, especially as you slowly discover more layers of what’s really going on, what both Adrien and Marinette are hiding, both from others and from themselves in order to help cope with their circumstances. But they still move forwards together, regardless.

---

Between the Heavens and the Embers by @readersmoon

Everyone in Paris remembers the fateful night of January 16, when the city was attacked by the most powerful and destructive akuma ever created. The assault, which lasted for hours, resulted in the death of 439 people.

Marinette Dupain-Cheng was among the casualties.

Years later, Adrien hasn't been able to move on, haunted by the memories of her broken body. So, when the opportunity to leave Paris for a while presents itself, he doesn't hesitate. But this trip might end up giving him more than he ever dreamt of.

This is a fantastic fic, though a serious and a dark one - make sure to mind the tags, and it’s M-rated for a reason. Vee - or rather, Marinette - is going through a horror story here. Imagine finding out that your life is a lie, that everyone you thought you could trust was manipulating you, that you were just being continually gaslit for years. 

As for Adrien, Alya, and Nino... well, none of them took Marinette’s “death” all that well, especially Adrien. Finding out that she’s been alive all this time, in these horrible circumstances, and they had no clue... it’s hard on them as well.

I love how this fic goes into how much trauma everyone has even after the immediate danger’s dealt with, you don’t just walk off this kind of experience, especially with how many years this lasted.

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in case you don’t know me tomorrow by @thelibraryloser:

“We live in a crazy world where pieces of our lives can be erased like they never even happened. I just wanted to memorize this moment so… so I could keep it, if that makes sense.”

Adrien’s heart gave a little flutter. She wanted to keep this moment, meeting him. She wanted to keep… him.

“I understand exactly what you mean.“

In a world that has created a way to selectively delete memories, no moment is truly safe. So how do you hold on to something when the memory of it is gone? And how do you keep fighting for someone when you’re the only one who remembers?

This is a SEVERELY underrated fic. It’s got some shades of “Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind” in the world, though the plot is very different - the memory erasure ain’t willing. 

Basically, the first few chapters are establishing Adrien’s and Marinette’s romance, and then the rest of the fic is dealing with Gabriel being an absolute DICK and using any means at his disposal to break them apart. It’s fantastic and I highly recommend reading it!

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hella enchanted by @xiueryn:

Years ago, Marinette’s father died and she was left with her awful stepmother. With magic forcing her to obey every command, she lived as a servant and gave up hope. When a man appears, searching for the very fairy that blessed her, Marinette decides to give life one more try. AU.

(a different ella enchanted au.)

Even though it’s a one-shot this one is pretty long, clocking in at over 30k words. Absolutely worth a shot, though. The first third is basically Marinette dealing with being pushed around because of her “blessing”, and the other two-thirds is just some adorable fluff of her and Adrien touring the country together. 

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Echoes of You by kittinoir

In the day time, she's Marinette - a normal girl, with a normal life. A normal girl, with a normal life. A normal girl, with... Not Season 4 Compliant; please, no spoilers

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balancing act by fictionalinfinity

“Besides, being Ladybug always came first. It came before school, friends, and sometimes even family. Now it had to come before her health. Marinette had a duty to Paris. She wouldn’t let them down.” Or, being both Ladybug and the Guardian starts to take its toll on Marinette. - the epilepsy au literally no one asked for

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Some Days by @merrygreenie

Some days are worse, and others are a little better, little by little and day by day. Marinette Dupain-Chen is learning how to live her new normal after living in confinement and being tortured by Hawkmoth. She is thankful to have her friends and family to support her. And a very special Chat who loves her very much. *This story contains scenes of violence and torture this is a whump fic*

This fic has some great angst, but be warned, it's not kidding about the violence and torture. Honestly, it should probably be rated M instead of Teen, given that while the fic mostly takes place after Marinette escapes and while she's recovering, we do get a detailed flashback to her torture.

[criminal-sen]

Hello!! Going back to that post about being ok with people asking you about your fic... can I? 🙏 I'm gonna 🫣

So when I first found Imperfect, I hadn't watched Bleach in... dunno... 10-15 years?? Gawd don't wanna think about it. So, I'd forgotten a lot of stuff, and I hadn't finished the last 3-4 seasons. So I thought a lot of stuff you wrote about was canon, and when I rewatched it all for the upcoming 3rd part of tybw, I was like... so when are you guys gonna mention this??

But anyway, focusing on the actual question, how did you come up with all the little details about Mayuri? Like the way he talks to AJ in their own internal world, the microdosing of Super Human drug in daily life and they way it feels, the ability to smell pheromones... it makes the story, which is already awesome, much more realistic to me. It's almost like he wrote it himself, it's so, so enjoyable. Love it sm, you already know 😊

Anyway, no pressure to answer, just been thinking about it for a while and thought I'd chance it!

Aw that's so cool u mistook my stuff for canon, I feel like it's Highest Honor for ff to be believable enough to trick someone>:3c Tho I'm sure it was kinda frustrating too, sorry for that haha (and I've also been fooled so I very much understand the feeling)

Future Sen here: when I say I'm long-winded, this is what I'm talking about. This is like.. the textbook definition of Verbose. So under a cut it goes, have fun with soooooo many words:D

Hmm so the microdosing Superhuman Drug just popped into my head right before I wrote it in (chapter... 5? I think? Where he's sitting in the hotel after a flashback), I think I was having a bit of a conundrum on how he could sit there and have such a long and detailed flashback in such a short time? And before I could do the obvious fix of having more time pass, as literally nothing was at stake time-wise, I remembered the Superhuman Drug exists. And the more I thought about it, the more sense it made for him to use it, to the point where I choose believe it's canon unless proven otherwise XD Like you can't tell me someone whose whole thing is Thinking wouldn't jump at the opportunity to do more of it in less time. As for the way it feels, hmmm idk, I just thought real hard and made it up. All we know from canon is what he explained to Szayel, and what Szayel experienced, which is just. Brain thinks faster, making time feel as though it's passing slower. And od'ing on it is Real Bad💀

Hheeeehooo What Next>:3 (btw im having a blast rn, ty for giving me a free pass to be sooooo long winded about this very niche thing XD) Right, Jizo communication here we go>:33333 So him talking to Jizo was based on what I read in a wiki about the Zanpakuto... rebellion arc? I think it's called (could definitely be wrong)? Where everyone's zanpakuto spirit is running amok? I just remember reading he didn't speak. And though I have mixed feels about the design (hence he is Moth in my fic XD), him not speaking really made sense to me. He just seems like such a fucked up little guy🤔 Like.. okay so I've mentioned this briefly in a chapter preface but want to elaborate... so I strongly believe he consents to being modified, cuz even Mayuri would probably have a hard time wielding a zanpakuto that fucking hates him. Which means he's loyal (arguably to a fault) and trusts Mayuri to do very fucked up and painful things to him. Which, to be fair, Mayuri does equally painful and fucked up things to his own body.. and that makes me wonder if Jizo isnt merely consenting but is of the same mind about this fuckery? Like idk if I can even say this in a way that makes sense🤦‍♂️ but I like to think they share this no-holds-barred, nothing-is-sacred delight for experimenting on themselves. Like Jizo is also a mad scientist in all but name>:3 (I decided on this version bc it Fucks Severly imho, but also bc it's FAR less depressing than the overly-trusting, Stockholm syndrome one, like i cannot deal with writing something that sad tbfh) Anyway, regardless of which version, he is an intensely weird Creachure. And I just can't fathom him saying fucking.. anything... that would even remotely make sense to anyone but Mayuri??? And the telepathy thing just fits Mayuri's whole.. fast thinking, Big Brain vibe. If a zanpakuto were to impart information to him through words, I can see him tapping his foot like GET TO THE POINT>:(

Lastly, the pheromone thing.. haha well this one's pretty short (future Sen here, i am a liar! It is not short😬) - I borrowed it from another ff. It's that one I mentioned at the end of.. who knows which chapter... Quantum Mechanics by Illegitimi (no link, sorry, might put one after i post)... which was Mayuri/Isane, and which I loved So Much back in the day, despite hetero romance being kind of a fuckin.. icky vibe for me in regards to Mayuri. No problem with it fyi, just usually wouldn't choose to read about it. Ugh I'm talking too much about it already but I have changed a LOT since.. 2016? Give or take? And I don't think I could stand it nowadays for a whole bunch of reasons. But. BUT. It was very well written and had some very cool hcs for him that I've clung onto. The pheromone one just fits him - if he could sharpen his ability to sense something, ofc he'd do it - plus it's very fun for romance and smut reasons, which is undoubtedly why the author thought of it. They also had that scar across his nose, though iirc it was kinda squiggly and not the upside down V that I made up. In my defense though, there's a lot I didn't borrow from that fic, too. Some highlights: Mayuri practiced feng-shui (like he'd spend his precious Sciencing time to do smth like that smh) he had these absolutely luxurious captains quarters, complete with a whole fancy bathhouse, like there was a waterfall and shit nsvdhshdv (I'll admit this was quite fun in the ff but i obviously interpret his quarters a lot differently)... and, last one I mention I promise😬 his paint rubbed off easily, big reason why I changed it tbfh cuz it immediately didn't make sense to me, like his hands especially? Is that different paint than the rubbing off paint? Or does he leave paint on every surface he touches, and discreetly wipe it up and reapply before anyone notices???? Expmain yourself, ff writer😤 jk jk it was really good for what it was, and I still very much appreciate it for helping me form my version<3

Omfg I really... shit what time is it😭 (over an hour, I've been sitting here for over an HOUR jesus fucking.. goddamn) Okay well I don't get to blab v often about this stuff, and it turns out I have a LOT of words in me today! So it was a perfect storm😩 Well I hope this was enlightening, thanks sm for the ask, it was a very fun hour lol. And sorry for the uhhh. the amount of words:p

[colourfulshadows]

Thinking about The Drop™ again. Long and weird post, sorry, with a thought experiment more than a real theory I guess. Wrote this at 3 am when I couldn't sleep xD

I'm not going to argue that Lestat's abuse toward Louis (and Claudia, but focusing on Louis in this) is OOC in general. In fact, I think it fits his character, his impulsiveness and works with the themes of "being a monster" and his abandonment issues triggering that behaviour (I'm not excusing his behaviour, just trying to explain it).

But

The Drop?

(CW for SA)

I know I know that Lestat even acknowledged it himself during the trial (well, the lestat from louis's retelling) and I'm not saying that Louis is lying that Lestat did abuse him to that extent. But the drop feels OOC for me. Sometimes I wonder if it's all a metaphor for another similar horrid thing Lestat might have done instead. Because there's this thing with him not possessing the cloud gift at that point in the books.

I have that thought that maybe... What if Lestat SA'd Louis? And Louis didn't feel safe to tell Daniel that after hearing how Daniel spoke about Claudia in that context? Who knows the books, knows that Lestat canonically SA'd someone. It would recontextualise a lot. The flying in S1E1 during lovemaking? A metaphor for part of the sex, maybe even subspace. Louis letting his rage/revenge at Lestat out through violent hate sex with *stabbing* of all things? Louis looks almost dissociated during sex in the "distracting Lestat so Claudia can plot" phase but not during kisses etc. Then there's the way Louis doms Armand later.

What if actual flying = something very intimate in the show (yes well I don't think it's far fetched to think Santiago would be an exhibitionist then). Armand having to fly up to fetch books for Louis. Armand's aerobic evening in the back of the theatre. Armand flying up the stairs before revealing his past to Louis. Armand descending from the bookcases in "no pain" after rashid left, but showing Daniel is all right (could be wrong with the order of events in that scene though).

Armand makes Daniel fly and crash on the ground in 1973 and afterwards Daniel has this extra haunted expression.

I'm probably overthinking everything. I don't think that's actually canon. I just like to analyse and theorise. It's crazy and far fetched and has plot holes but that tiny corner of my brain is saying "but what if it's not?"

If we were still on the internet of 2010 I'd say "thank you for reading all this, here's a cookie *gives cookie*"

[ofsunnydays-and-moonlitnights]

Notions of a Madman... an aftermath.

I hope you don't mind @croissantlover24 I wrote a very little story of my version of an after story for your amazing fic Notions of a Madman. I needed jus a little more closure but I didn't change the outcome (unfortunately TwT) alt title notions of a sad man XD

Go read their story first SPOILERS AHEAD you have been warned! no actually this will probably ruin everything.

You didn’t forgive him…

How could you forgive him? He can’t even forgive himself. You just... just like that... no.. you can’t be gone… you can’t. Can you? Humans are just so fragile… he’d almost forgotten you were one of them, was that it? His mistake?

You… there was so much he wanted to show you, so many projects to work on with you, so many more times to make you jump… he loved teasing you like that... maybe he could have made you laugh one day? a real heartfelt laugh, or smile, if his machine worked you could have been happy as his assistant, forever.

He stares into the distances blankly as the ring of the monitor fills his robotic ears. 

Doctors and nurses rush in to do the last checks making sure there really was nothing they could do to reverse his fatal mistake and then they finally and officially pronounce your death.

Their looks of disgust usually unfazed him but... He didn't mean to… it really was an accident… no one will ever belive him, nor do they care... he didn't want to hurt you, he wasn't proud of this; And for once he wasn't fasinated by death or the blood and brains that had littered his Laboratory.

How on earth could he expect you to forgive him? 

Why couldn’t these useless doctors do their damn job right?! If he had more time, you could learn to forgive him, he could do more tests and fix his machine… everything could be ok? better then ok, it could be perfect.

If only he had done more tests to begin with. If only he had done more calculations. more work, something anything. If only you weren’t scared. If only you didn’t want to leave. If only... she hadn’t…

He scowls at the woman… her arms crossed like she both has no worries at all and the whole world weighing her shoulders down all at once. 

“This is your fault!” he screamed. “If YOU hadn’t scared them this would have never happened. They would still be here! They would still be mine."

“Keep telling yourself that.” she just turned and started walking. “It’s never an accident with you.” she mumbled as she left.

“IT WAS! FOR ONCE...for once it... It actually... it really was…” he sobbed.

If it wasn’t for the handcuffs holding him back he would have followed her and ripped her head off himself, it would be about time; he thought to himself. He should have tested that darn machine on her.

If only things went differently. 

The room was now empty, they had wheeled you out as he sat there cuffed to a chair that was bolted to the ground. As soon as your monitor went blank Vanessa and her officers had secured him down. He probably could just escape if he had the energy... the want.

You were his only friend. He would give everything to go back to the day you met, on that… was it a fall day? the sanguineous colored leaves falling from the trees… his stupid sign that actually worked… if he could do things just a little difrently... Wait! Next he could make a time machine and go back and fix it all!

No… Who is he kidding, where would he get the parts for that without his gullible little lamb? 

It took a moment but he’d actually given up. There was nothing else to do. No way to fix this.

Vanessa had all the evidence she needed... and had him transported to a high security prison where he could rot until the end of time. He would never forgive himself as long as you would never forgive him, and you were dead so how could he ever change your mind now? Unless? No you really were gone. He forgets that sometimes, a wish maybe or simply delusion, he sometimes belives he's still in his lab asking you to pass him this or fetch him that, maybe he really is a madman? or maybe he always was...

[choccy-zefirka]

20 Questions for Writers!

Thank you @sky-scribbles for tagging me, made me feel warm and fuzzy on a long and tough day :D I will tag @leadflowers and @ziskandra

How many works do you have on ao3?

Currently 76! I used to have about 200 on my old account but I nuked it to give myself a fresh start and a break from hate comments.

What’s your total ao3 word count?

248,265

What are your top five fics by kudos?

The Ending of Words: Elder Scrolls Online, Sotha Sil x Reader, 119 Kudos

Brain Damage: She-Ra and the Princesses of Power, Entrapta x Hordak, 83 Kudos

A Luxury: Mass Effect, custom F!Shepard x Javik, 78 Kudos

Rare and Radiant: Dragon Age the Veilguard, custom F!Rook x Emmrich Volkarin, also 78 Kudos

Mister Monster: Skyrim, Gen, 76 Kudos

What fandoms do you write for?

Right now, Warhammer 40K Rogue Trader (where yet another old man has bewitched me body and soul), plus Dragon Age! All of my other fandoms, like Baldur's Gate 3, Elder Scrolls, Mass Effect or Cyberpunk 2077, are also very dear to my heart, so you never know when I might return to them!

Do you respond to comments? Why or why not?

I do! :D I get very few comments, possibly because I tend to restrict commenting to registered users only (to avoid being flamed as we old hags say), but it gives me the time and space to respond to everyone!

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

As He Lay Dying — which is actually one of the very first fics I ever wrote in English over 10 years ago, and then edited and reuploaded to celebrate Skyrim's anniversary! It depicts the last moments of Archmage Savos Aren, as he hallucinates his dead friends being alive again. Early 20s me was so edgy XD

Among the more "modern fics", there's also Red Lullaby, which is set in Dragon Age Inquisition's "dark future" alternative timeline and ends in one of the POV characters succumbing to red lyrium (she'll be fine tho, her sad dad will show up and undo another sad dad's mess).

I do have a penchant for writing fics where Character A thinks Character B is dead, but that's, likewise, just temporary angst!

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

Most of my fics tend to have happy or at least hopeful endings these days, because there's only so much heartbreak I can have in the real world. However, I would like to single out Geth Bearing Gifts, which is my fix-it for the Mass Effect ending! Shepard may be Going Through It (including memory loss), but she's alive, *and* so are EDI and the Geth and all her friends!

Do you get hate on fics?

Not recently, no; I get silly anons sometimes, but in the grand scheme of things they are more of my little jesters than the destroyers of self-esteem they used to be.

Do you write smut?

Yes! I do however have to frame it in a million words of preamble and character study :')

Do you write crossovers?

I used to have a sprawling Dragon Age/Skyrim crossover fic, but it now rests in Oblivion with my old account. As does my little "Liam Kosta gets his family car back via a weird flying blue box" Andromeda ficlet, it was kinda cute.

Have you ever had a fic stolen?

I don't think so! I do feel like the fandom applies the word "stolen" way too broadly sometimes, taking it to mean "having the same character concepts" or "taking inspiration from one another". I love inspiring people; if you start shipping the same rarepairs as me, my day, nay my entire life, will be made!

Have you ever had a fic translated?

Not that I recall! I did translate another person's fic from russian into English though!

Have you ever cowritten a fic before?

No, but I have had fic trades and roleplay sessions!

What’s your all time favourite ship?

As of right now, Emmrook from Dragon Age the Veilguard! It has all the story beats I previously had to merely headcanon for non-existent character relationships!

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

I switched to writing one-shots precisely to avoid this problem!

What are your writing strengths?

After over twenty years of study, I have made the English language my bitch. I juggle present and past tense forms like it's nobody's business. I drive my point home with poetic repetitions. I weave huge complex sentences and then pepper them with choppy, short ones in between. And I thrive on it!

What are your writing weaknesses?

I'd say that I have a very limited number of tropes and ship dynamics that I explore over and over again... But you know what? My only payment for this is serotonin. And these two or three specific staples — particularly old people finding second love, and bi4bi m/f couples where the dude is a total wifeguy — give me serotonin!

Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language in a fic?

Uhhh, is this meant to be controversial? I don't have any thoughts, I am sure there are occasions that call for this!

First fandom you wrote for?

Regrettably, I think it was Harry Potter. I was maybe 16 at the time and all about Remus Lupin with a dash of Severus Snape; maturing and getting disillusioned in JKR aside, not much has changed about my tastes honestly.

Favourite fic you’ve ever written?

Probably Je Vous Promets, a ficlet establishing future bonding between my beloved Yvie Lavellan (aka Kader on her mama's side) and a still bitter and imprisoned magister Alexius. My pixel daughter is very precious, and the old man won't know what hit him!

[floating-in-the-blue]

20 Questions for Fanfiction Writers

@hot-elf thank youuuuu for tagging me, hunny! <3

1). How many works do you have on AO3?

96. I hope I can get that up to 100 by the end of this year

2). What’s your total AO3 word count?

397,297

3). What are your top five fics by kudos?

Will You (Julie and the Phantoms, 425 kudos)

Stormy Nights and Comforts Bright (Red, White & Royal Blue, 305 kudos)

In Your Starlight (JatP, 258 kudos)

Home is Where My Ghost is (JatP, 257 kudos)

Silent Souls (Fantastic Beasts, 251 kudos)

4). What fandoms do you write for?

Julie and the Phantoms is my main fandom, although I dabble in Red, White & Royal Blue occasionally (ie. more than I expected).

Past ones: Metal Gear Solid, Stargate Atlantis, Miss Fisher's Murder Mysteries, Iron Man (+ the occasional visit in a handful of others)

5). Do you respond to comments? Why or why not?

Yes. I think it's just good manners to say "thank you" when someone said "I liked your fic". I'm not a YouTube/Insta influencer girl. I'm not here for followers, I'm here for community. And I've found some of my best (fandom) friends via comment section conversations.

That being said, I've definitely had times where it was difficult because of brain fog or guilt at not having finished a story or because the comment was actually so overwhelmingly wonderful I would get too emotional every time I tried to answer. It's a form of socialising and takes socialising energy, which is not always at hand. But I'm working on reducing the pile of shame and I got it down to 12 now that I still need to respond to. (Though some of those are placeholders (aka replies to comments I wrote) as reminders to go back and finish reading/commenting a fic)

6). What’s the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

Breathe [Extended] (Metal Gear Solid) is very angsty throughout although the ending is kind of hopeful in a teeth-gritting determined kind of way so I don't know if it really counts. But until I post my magnum opus/white whale of a fic, Nature 2.0 (also MGS), I think it's still the best choice because everything else has happy endings.

PS: oh, I thought of a small mini JatP one shot, that's pretty angsty in a way though too short actually to have any proper beginning and ending ...

7). What’s the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?

All the rest XD But let's go with In Your Starlight because the ending has that bouncy kind of optimism and hope for the future that always makes me smile.

8). Do you get hate on fics?

Not much, thankfully only one truly upset me.

There was one instance of anon hate I got via tumblr message on a genderbent MGS story, which was written for a prompt my giftee gave me, so not even really my idea. It accused me of transphobia for some reason but it was so laughable, I ignored it.

And then there was, of course, a dark moment in the JatP fandom where every writer who dared to write smut was put on a blacklist and accused of pedophile tendencies, which was definitely NOT fun, despite the outpour of love and support that elicited.

9). Do you write smut?

As seen above, yes I do write smut. I don't do it too often these days and I don't want it to be the only thing I write (although that's totally legit and I know several writers who do it splendidly, @hot-elf included). But I'm pretty happy with every one of the sex scenes I've written so far.

10). Do you write crossovers?

The first fanfic I ever started to write (as a wee teen without a clue), was actually a massive crossover (2x Star Trek, Star Wars, Stargate, X-files and probably more I've forgotten about now) but I haven't done it much or seriously since.

I've read excellent crossovers but so far, I've never been tempted tp write one.

11). Have you ever had a fic stolen?

Not that I know of. I'm happy about that of course but I remember when someone on Wattpad stole several smutty JatP stories and mine weren't among those and I was almost insulted mine hadn't been chosen XD

But nah, on the whole: PLEASE DON'T STEAL MY FICS!

12). Have you ever had a fic translated?

Yes! Silent Souls (Fantabi) got translated: Silent Souls (Vietnamese translation). I can't say anything about the translation since I don't know any Vietnamese but I was very flattered (even though I don't think many people read it)

13). Have you ever cowritten a fic before?

Kinda. I haven't sat down and actually written a fic with someone (though I tried once until we both kind of lost interest) but I have turned two truly massive and epic RPGs I wrote with @textualpoacher (Iron Man & MGS) into fics with her (or we started to, at least). I haven't given up hope yet to finish them some day but it's not a priority in any way (and I first need to dig out the files from ancient computers).

It's why I count Iron Man as one of the major fandoms I wrote for even though that's not reflected on AO3. Because we posted the fic on ff.de and had written much more than posted, so it was very dominant in my life for quite a while.

14). What’s your all-time favorite ship?

Impossible to answer. There's too many and I love them all.

The major ships I've written for though are: Tony Stark/Pepper Potts (Iron Man), David 'Solid Snake'/Hal 'Otacon' Emmerich (MGS), Alex Mercer/Wille (JatP), Phryne Fisher/Jack Robinson (MFMM), Alex Claremont-Diaz/Henry Too-Many-Names (RWRB)

Ships I haven't written for but that are extremely dear to me: Richard Castle/Katherine Beckett, Willow Rosenberg/Tara Mclay (Buffy), Willow Rosenberg/Oz (Buffy), Buffy Summers/Spike (Buffy), Wesley Wyndham-Price/Winifred 'Fred' Burkle (Angel), Shallan Davar/Kaladin/Adolin Kholin (Stormlight), Samantha Carter/Jack O'Neill (Stargate), Leia Organa/Han Solo (Star Wars), Artemis Entrer/Jarlaxle (R. A. Salvatore's D'n'D books), ...

15). What’s the WIP you want to finish but doubt you ever will?

Nature 2.0 (MGS). ALTHOUGH I WILL NOT ABANDON ALL HOPE!!!

The story is too complex and ambitious and research- and plot-heavy for my current skill levels (and my current time/focus/etc) but it's also my dream project that I would very much LIKE to finish one day.

Even less likely (though also a dream project), I guess, is the Victorian Stargate Atlantis AU I started. Same problems apply. At least I never posted anything of that on AO3. Just in a private forum that no longer exists.

16). What are your writing strengths?

Hm ... characters, emotions, descriptions, metaphors, humour (and occasionally smut)

17). What are your writing weaknesses?

PLOT!!! Also action scenes (I think, I've mostly been too afraid to try them plus they usually require plot which I also suck at).

Not technically writing but part of the process and definitely a weakness: research! Hate it.

(you see why those dream projects are still dreams rather than actual projects)

Idiomatic character speech + giving characters distinctive narrative voices.

And as a non-native speaker I honestly don't care enough about the distinctions between British and American English.

18). Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language in a fic?

Tricky. If it makes sense for the character, yes but there should always be a translation either in the end notes or an explanation in the fic itself. And if it's more than a word or sentence, I wouldn't do it and instead do that bit as a 'telll' not 'show' thing and summarise the dialogue because otherwise it gets boring pretty quickly for someone who doesn't speak that language.

And there's two pitfalls of course: a monolingual person trying to write a bilingual person and/or a person writing a language they don't properly know and then having readers who do. Can get awkward.

19). First fandom you wrote for?

That massive crossover mentioned above so: like five at once? XD

The first thing I posted online was, of all things, a one shot for Dr. Horrible's Sing-Along blog, which, I think, nobody read. I didn't write anything for that fandom again ;D

20). Favorite fic you’ve ever written?

Why would you ask me to choose between my children??? *wails*

... I tried to narrow it down by fandom but even that doesn't work! How do people answer this??? I'm bisexual, I can't choose between things for the life of me!! (I'm also forever baffled by people with favourite movies, shows, books etc like HOW? THERE'S SO MANY OF THEM AND SO MANY OF THEM ARE GREAT!)

GHJKLKJHGF ..... okay.

Have Dear Dave. A MGS fic I'm still super proud of even though there's things I would add/alter if I wrote it today. But there's a physical copy of that fic on my shelf and I've been told it's got at least a little notorierty in the fandom as a destroyer of hearts. Tears have been shed over this fic, including the fake ones on the physical journal (though making the coffee stains was more fun).

___

inflicting this with no-pressure tagging on: @innytoes, @onlygenxhere, @jonairadreaming, @thatbitchmabel, @chanihobbit, @kbstories

[murfpersonalblog]

IWTV S2 Ep8 Musings - Loumand (Spoilers)

This was so effed up, wow; I'm FURIOUS with Armand, even though I've been expecting this from him since Season 1. Cuz the ish he said just never lined up right; the most unreliable narrator's been Armand the whole time! Louis' brain is scrambled, but at least he's SINCERE. But THIS mofo has been deliberately LYING since JUMP.

Longest divorce proceedings ever--took 77 years, dang. Armand said it was the night Madeleine was turned--Mr. They Gave Me A Choice. I Chose. But that's a effing lie, too!

Cuz in Ep6, BEFORE Louis even told Armand he was gonna turn Madz, Santiago was busy committing all those "strange crimes reported;" climbing the Eiffel Tower to wake up Lestat, and breaking into cinemas to steal their color film reels for the Trial's projector.

They threw Sam under the bus as if HE wrote effed up Trial script--but THIS was when they actually started writing it--with ARMAND's input & direction.

But I'm jumping ahead.

WTF is going on here?! O_O Is this a human the Theatre keeps around for the plays, zoned out so they stay alive until they're on stage? So Armand's punishment is the shame of having to feed the "cattle"? And HOW MANY nights was Lou in there? :(

Louis was locked up for over a MONTH!? 😨 While Armand just SAT THERE?!

Lou's not screaming from starvation, MORON--he starved himself for YEARS. His DAUGHTER is DEAD.

The frame of Paul is wild--Louis was ready to end it all. U_U He didn't want to be "rescued"--he wanted his baby girl back. "What was left to endure for?"

Man's a consummate actor--everything you're about to see is FAKE.

A "sacrifice" for the "god" Armand serves, eh? (AMC got my guy out here sucking on rocks, omg. XD I hope they taste like chips or popcorn or something.)

Louis CONSTANTLY shushing people on this show, I love it!

LIES. Lou's WAY too good for Armand; I'd've been like SURPRISE! 🔥 "My rage and madness were asleep--" chile. You loved Armand, and thought he'd cared enough to save you, which is why you were able to swallow that weak AF I Could Not Prevent It excuse from a 500 yr old vamp.

Daniel is on the hunt! I LOVE how they're introducing Raglan like he's just some kindly ole assistant/researcher/editor. Honey, you've got a big storm coming! "Reciprocation"--Daniel's a vampire now, so you KNOW Raglan's gonna start cashing in them I-O-Us from Dan! 💀

77 years later.... 😬

200 years is a mighty long time to maintain a relationship built on death threats, power imbalances, and lies.

Lestat was right--even 77 years was a effing miracle--extra time bought at the price of Louis' memories being oh-so-conveniently erased.

THEY rehearsed it--LIE. There Armand goes, deflecting culpability.

Louis sleeping in Claudia's coffin, stop, my feels. U_U

Omfg Armand; of COURSE you don't remember the last thing y'all said to e/o in Paris b4 y'all left Lestat to travel Egypt--but you can "remember" alllll this other bullcrap, eh?

So they've already done Trinity Gate?

BY ALL MEANS. EXPOSE THEM.

Not Sam being in Daftpunk, y'all need to stop IMMEDIATELY. (But now I know wtf was going on in the Season 3 announcement--I was so confused why they were mentioning Sam!)

ARMAND told the coven to let the audience read Claudia's diaries and VIOLATE her body (of work), omfg 😱

Mr Frankenstein disrespected her at EVERY turn!

I could forgive spitting over "Come to Me" and how Loustat met in NOLA, but I draw the line at spitting at adding the animation of Lestat killing that dear sweet racoon! XD

Armand had the NERVE to look away when they bum-rushed Claudia & Louis with the Mind Gift.

"It's their turn to hurt--" ARMAND said he didn't think Louis would love him for 200 years, so he SOLD THEM TF OUT--to DIE.

They were HOBBLING AROUND WITH GASHED ANKLES, LAUGHED at, and stuffed in RAT BOXES! And ARMAND was in on the whole thing!

This is WILD, AMC, y'all are sick for this, but I love it!

Is DANIEL using Armand's "slave name" and abusing him, y'all? HUH? It's all BULLCRAP--Armand's BEEN in control, with all the real power the WHOLE. EFFING. TIME.

EFF what you call him, or whatever kinky ROLES he PLAYS.

ARMAND decides who lives and dies, as THE coven master--eff who's called Maitre!

Armand was gonna let Lou DIE. "He just took credit for it when the opportunity presented itself." Wow.

He let Louis suffer in that crypt for over a MONTH before he FINALLY had a change of hear/conscience and pulled him out!

And even then he wasn't gonna go WITH Louis--he expected Louis to flee Paris! ALONE.

He stayed with Louis cuz Louis destroyed his whole effing coven! Who else did Armand HAVE but Louis after that? HE CHOSE THE COVEN.

Poor dear; he wasn't held enough between ritualistic fledgling executions. 🙄😒 "We are teachers of one another! Louis, everything that gives you happiness gives me...." WHAT? What does it give you, Armand? (I cannot WAIT for S3 to do more DM, cuz I've been HATING Armand connected in any way to Louis & Claudia. I don't like not liking Armand; he's my fave book character! But AMC's bound & determined to make me spit every time he starts talking.)

Excellent grounds to get the house, the dog, the Farm, Damek, AND Rashid in the divorce! XD

And this gremlin's got the audacity to STILL be lying, even when caught LITERALLY red-handed with his notes to Santiago in the effing margins--meanwhile CLAUDIA was CONDEMNED TO DEATH for premeditating Lestat's death in HER written diaries--which ARMAND had passed around like candy at his carnival of horrors!

"An insignificant detail delivered by an insignificant mortal"--Rolin must hate Armand, he's not giving this dude an INCH. XD And SAM delivered it, not Daniel. SAM snitched on the coven. (WHEN?! And WHY?)

I don't like the whole "you should fear the other one--" only for Raglan to be like SOS GET OUT OF THERE NOW. Didn't Raglan know Armand was lying his arse off? Or was it misdirection--fear Louis' retribution when he busts a cap in Armand's lying arse?

DanLou nation RISE! ^0^

This was beautiful; I'm so happy for them. They started off TERRIBLY, but look at that bond just blossom like a magnolia tree Armand tried to clip and prune and graft and manipulate--only for it to flourish wild and free!

[mer-acle]

i mean, if you wanted to have a convenient way for Greek mythology to still exist, you could just use the roman names of each god. The Romans liked to yoink gods from the religions of people they conquered cuz syncretism, and they were functionally the same people with slight changes to their myths and different names. (The planets were also named after the roman gods because being a nerd is basically a scientists job description, of course they're gonna give the planets nerdy names :]) So you just have the characters relating weirdly hard with their roman counterparts. Just "man, mars is just like me fr" coming from ares and whatever

Also, apollos favorite game should be dodgeball (totally not a reference to anything at all ;j)

Me reading the lore list and being like "that was my fault >:3c" on like an 8th of the lore.

Something you gotta know about me is that I go "hehe, let's give these characters a bad time because plot, huehue suffering >:∆c" and then immediately go "nooo they're so saddd :[[ I feel so bad for them :'7 if this guy isn't ok in the next 5 seconds I'm gonna be sad :c" which is why some of my asks inflict suffering and then others are full of joyous whimsy. Or chaos. I have ocs that I don't really talk about (I've wanted to make a blog for them and make refs for artfight, I just haven't gotten around to it cuz busy, rip -n-) and they suffer some stuff (one of them literally dies and then necromancy happens {they're also based upon a plushie that I have In a bookcase, it's a dinoglows stegosaurus and the reason for the necromancy is cuz they're reversible and one side has bones that glow in the dark, so yeah. Picture one of those but anthro and that's my girl petrichor]) but I give them a good time a lot of the time too, and I sometimes go "hmm, here's the 'everything is fine actually' au, where they don't have a bad time at all." Or just make aus for fun like a modern/human au :) I just microwave them in my brain constantly and imagine animatics to songs I like that I'll never make cuz I don't have time. (Honestly my characters are probably having a better time than I am for like 90% of the time, because I am having a bad time most of the time, and their world is escapism for me so I make things genuinely nice for them and go "gods I wish that was me". Honestly I spent more time worldbuilding and applying things to their character than actually thinking about any form of plot. I'm going, "so the land is laid out like this, and there's a city here with this kinda architecture. Here's a magic system. Here's how the afterlife works. Oo societal expectations and junk. Here's how the language would evolve because while the story is told in English canonically that doesn't exist. This character dresses in this style and their theme music would include the guitar because they play guitar. That character is very brave, and yet scared of bugs, but their partner likes bugs and rambles about them a lot, but they feel too awkward to say anything" kinda stuff. I started thinking about genetics {cuz I wanted to include dragons but my brain went, "they need to have a way to logically exist within the environment actually"} before I started thinking about a plot that made sense. If I ever wrote an actual story with my guys it would probably be a slice of life, just set in a fantasy world.)

Gods I rambled a lot and most of it isn't related to your blog in any way I'm sorry ':D. I'm going insane :∆ anyway have a nice day, go hydrate or something

-🌻

I thought about that too :D I like the idea of a scene where Athena is reading from a book about Roman Mythology and they just go "so he's like Dad", "Ath, that's literally just you"

hehehe

haha yeah you are very responsible for the lore XD

hahah you are nicer than me XD I have no remorse for my characters. (besides Pallas I felt genuinely bad for killing her off)

Genuinely, coming from a dinosaur plushie might just be the best OC origin story I have ever heard can we be friends? That is so fucking cool.

I just microwave them in my brain constantly and imagine animatics to songs I like that I'll never make cuz I don't have time. // ow stop too real. My brain's been playing a SilentWars Animatic to Citizen Soldier Let it burn for days now and i cannot make it actually.

Ooh you're very Tolkien coded /pos I do love worldbuilding too. You can put it in nice lil lore documents and tables and everything looks nice :D

No no that was super fun :D (also good day to answer this, it's like almost midnight and I drank like three cups of tea and one glass of water all day lol I am better at this usually i swear)

have a nice dayyy xx

[sketchehm]

STORYTIME 4 WON THE SECOND POLL🎉

Ok. Some preface, again, doesnt seem the darkest but I did have a lot of ideas of how this is Fucked and was never fully expressed in tbe notes. This is also mainly discduo centric (oops) but the notes rarely have him mentioned until end of it. The reason for that is the notes only really have a kind of prologue/backstory set up and thats all I wrote down...

So, the notes are not complete(obviously lmao) but let me know if you want me to continue with what I had in mind for the rest or maybe just ask me specific questions you might have? Idk! I'm good with anything :>

XD god experimenting on his half gods/godlings

Discduo centric(kinda)

Dream trapped in facility to learn more about what makes a god, it's all he knows

- XD is like his father

- (VERY) loosely based on elfen lied, at least the relationship bit between XD and Dream

Dream still needs "outside" interactions to fully develop his godhood

XD has asked for...assistance from other gods to "help" his godling

- Blood God sends his godling techno

- goddess of death asks her godling/husband philza if he can provide anyone (she doesn't fully trust xd to be kind to phil for whatever reason) and philza sends his adopted(? Not sure yet) son wilbur

The actual story starts AFTER wilbur has died

Prequel-ish:

Wilbur gave a kind of affection others didn't to Dream and he(dream) craves it in an unhealthy codependent way

Dream thinks it's *his* fault Wilbur killed himself, although he doesn't truly understand why, just that he's a bad god and isn't providing the necessary research to help XD

Dream knows *extremely* little about the outside world

He's chained(kinda) up in a room and cannot move, some high tech helmet is on him to measure his brain waves(doodle this later)

He has been in this contraption ever since he was created and grew up in it

Wilbur isnt a godling, but isnt fully mortal either, he's blessed by the goddess but he can still die

He's the closest thing to mortal that Dream has met

Techno is friends with dream and they are close and dream was able to develop and open up his personality cause of techno

There's a type of comfort techno gives dream

Also a double edged sword cause in dreams eyes, Techno is a Good Godling. Something he'll never achieve

Techno can walk around and read books and leave the room and talk with his patron whenever he wants(as far as dream knows)

Dream is Bad because he is trapped here and isn't ready to go outside the room. He is bad at being a god and that's why he can't leave yet. Once he's Good he can leave....surely...

Wilbur is not godly. But he can leave. He is special, cherished and loved and Momentary. Dream loves him in a way he doesn't understand. He wishes to be like Wilbur. If he weren't a god, he wouldn't have to be good or bad. Why does Wilbur cry at his knees praying? He can't move to make the tears go away, he doesn't get it....

They converse a lot, dream learns about Life:tm: and the meaning of it, as per described by Wilbur. But Life is mean to wilbur as Dream is learning. But he doesn't get why, it just is. If Dream becomes a Good God, he can help Wilbur and get rid of the Mean in Wilbur's life

Wilbur is just some Not Well Adjusted Adult

- living and surrounded by heavenly people takes a toll on the mental health oops

- feeling of insignificance and that he will be forgotten once his life is over

- smh he spreading his edgy ideology to pure unknowning dream stop that you're gonna make both of yourselves More depressed

- The equivalent of some grown guy venting to a 10 yr old smh(dream isn't 10 but has that innocence in a sense)

-Wilbur also becomes horribly codependent on Dream since this is the only Godly figure who actually listens to him

-he realizes Dream doesn't fully understand, but does see dreams genuine want to help wilbur in any way he can

"I'll be Good Wilbur! And then I can help, I'll make it better!"

Wilbur does come to a sudden realization how fucked up it is for Dream to be stuck here. Maybe more for selfish reasons, but he wishes for Dream to be out (maybe to just be Wilbur's)

- to an extent, everyone knows it's messed up, but you can't go against XD and it has now become Commonplace for this godling to be locked up. It's just one godling(as far as they know) going through this....it's fineeeee

Wilbur ends up killing himself(or does he dun dun dun)

Techno is sent to tell Dream the news by XD but he beats around the bush as he's trying...(love awkward techno <3)

XD then appears in the room upset by Techno's lack of [word I can't remember] and breaks the news to Dream.

Dream doesn't really understand the gravity of death in the moment, as much as Wilbur did bring it up

XD: Wilbur is dead my dear Godling.

Dream: oh....when will he return, Papa?

Techno: .......he won't. He's...he...-

XD: There is no returning from death my dear Godling. Wilbur will cease to visit and you will forget and continue on without him.

Xd leaves in a blink and dream doesn't quite digest it yet, he doesn't *get* it

Wilbur isn't coming back....why? Was it his fault...?

He looks at Techno hoping for something more

But techno looks distressed, eyes scrunched and eyes shiny....that doesn't make sense. Techno is not allowed to have that face. He knows wilbur and Techno were close too. They both would visit at once sometimes and speak with each other in ways dream doesn't quite understand. A familiarity that Dream has always craved.

But surely Techno can still see Wilbur right? Wilbur just won't visit anymore....Wilbur isn't visiting....but techno can tell him about Wilbur after Wilbur's dead is gone....?

Dream: Techno....?

Techno will flinch and look at dream in the eyes and Dream will see such a sadness that he doesn't *get*

Where is Wilbur...?

Techno can see Dream's confusion, he knows XD is cruel and will not explain the sadness of death to his son godling. XD has purposefully not bonded with Dream. XD is horrible.

Techno will take a breathe and then steady his voice. Dream is meant to stay pure for this experiment as per XD's orders. Whatever that means.... XD is not Techno's God but he is under his domain and he still has a friend here that he needs to look after. He will not leave his friend alone. He *cannot* fail another. He will find a solution....

Techno: Wilbur is gone dream. No one will ever see him again. Only the Goddess may comfort him now....

Dream: oh....is it because of me?

Dream won't get it. He will continue to hope for wilbur to return. If he becomes Better and Good. Wilbur will Return. He will become as good as his Papa and as good as the Goddess so he can comfort wilbur instead!

Techno: No... no dream it isn't because of you. Wilbur....was going through something. None of us could've helped...he's gone Dream. Wilbur *cannot* come back. I'm sorry.

Dream is tired of not getting it.

But he does. He does get it. Wilbur described being dead and death many times. But dream doesn't think that description fits Wilbur. So Wilbur can't be that. He *cant*

(But he is. Wilbur is Dead.)

The monitors will go off like crazy and Techno will be forced to leave.

Dream will scream. His Wilbur is *gone*.

Dream will enter a deep depression.

He will need to be forced fed and XD will scold him and Dream will cry as his Papa tells him he will never be worthy of leaving the room. Dream will forever be Bad. Thats why he couldn't save Wilbur. It Is His Fault.

Techno will visit more often and fight to stay longer. He's been meaning to break Dream out, but the trouble it'll cause his own God prevents him. But he might say fuck it anyways.....

But Dream needs someone now. And Techno thinks he knows someone else who is equally in despair. He knows XD has been badgering Phil to bring someone else. But Phil refuses, he is also Depressed but handling it way better. But when Techno asks, Phil trusts Techno more.

Techno just hopes this isn't a bad idea and that XD doesn't fucking blow up this person....

So Techno will tell Dream, hey Nerd. A new person will be visiting tomorrow. It was a pain to get him to agree, but...maybe you'll like him? He's really annoying at first, he still is really. But you guys might share stuff in common funny enough.

And dream will be despondent. Suspended by his chains and motionless, emotionless. He looks dead. Techno will feed him stew while talking with him. How he spoke to philza to get permission. How XD approved of the person(but XD doesn't know how loud this guy is techno will joke)

Dream will only eat from technos hand now. In the recess of his mind, it's wilbur. It's wilbur talking to him, even if the mannerisms and voice is wrong.

Someone new is coming. Why though. He has everyone he wants. He doesn't need anyone else. He'll be a Bad god forever. No one new will change that.

Then a mortal visits.

Main plot:

Tommy is depressed as shit. His (kinda adoptive?) brother wilbur was found at the shores of a river. He jumped from a bridge to kill himself. He was at school when they found him. He hasn't been to school since. He hasn't been anywhere. It's been about 3 months. He thinks he might have to repeat the year, that would fucking suck...Phil is trying to get him back out there. But fuck Phil. It's his fault. He killed wilbur....everyone did.

But then Techno visits him specifically. And Tommy thinks Techno is awesome and amazing and he doesn't visit home for *him*. He visits for Phil or wilbur. Tommy is just....there pestering Techno for attention. Tommy blames himself a lot for Wilbur's death.

Techno knows that. Has seen both sides of the coin. All the good and bad with wilbur. The cruelness he possessed.

Wilbur was not good to Tommy.

Tommy will learn way later why Techno would visit so much when Wilbur was alive.

But now Techno is visiting Tommy! And they go on a stroll in the nearby woods.

Techno will ask how Tommy is doing

Tommy will avoid the question

Tommy asks what techno is up to.

Techno will say he's still on his Assignment.

And Tommy stops. While Tommy blames the whole fucking world(including himself) for Wilbur's death. He blames the Assignment more. Ever since Wilbur had to leave everyday to go to the Assignment, he's come back different. He isn't as dumb as people make him out to be. But he just didn't want to acknowledge the change. Wilbur became meaner to him over time ever since he got that fucking Assignment. Wilbur started saying meaner shit to him, started hitting him, stop calling him all the fun nicknames. Wilbur....Wilbur was scary. And Tommy wasn't enough to help him. Tommy lost Wilbur to that fucking Assignment.

The most blame comes from that fucking thing. That's the *real* reason Wilbur is *gone*.

Tommy will feel his anger swell and before he has a chance to curse the fuck out of Techno,

"Do ya want to come with me tomorrow?"

And Tommy's anger pops like a balloon. He's so taken a back.

"What the fuck?"

And he'll agree. After a bit a of yelling and screaming.... He's gonna see first hand what destroyed wilbur and fucking kill it himself. Destroy it to shreds.

(Techno will keep quiet about Tommy's feelings on this whole subject from XD haha....XD's special project is in no danger whatsoever, this is a great plan!)

[darklydeliciousdesires]

Calmer Seas - A Niklas Kvarforth/Reader One Shot Story.

Just a little thing I wrote, since I missed writing for my favourite mess of a man <3 No smut, just you being there for Niklas as he attempts to improve his mental health a little.

Words - 1,510

Warnings - None, just Nik being Nik, but at least trying not to be as chaotic as he previously has been xD

You can always tell when he’s on edge. He has two modes which are seldom deviated from; the first being the loud, slightly scary, rude, obnoxious drunk, and then there’s the second. That is the one you’re witnessing now, watching the way his jaw muscles tense, his blue eyes rapidly clouding over, his fingers flexing in and out of a closed fist.  

He’s had enough. Of everything. Especially the person interviewing him and making what can only be described as a complete mess of it. Their own fault, you reason, since Niklas is very well famed for being either engaging and forthcoming when interviewed, should he be asked interesting questions, or an utter nightmare if he tires of the interviewer, or the questions he or she poses.  

Watching from the corner, your brain begins to tick with the equations. Has he eaten today, did he take his medication, will the hand that is flexing actually make it to grasp the bottle of Jack Daniel’s he’s been sharply eyeing? Working it out, you realise that no, he’s currently unmedicated, adding that to the fact he’s itching for a drink and so tired that mauve shadows haunt the skin beneath his eyes equals he’s likely about to be a problem. 

For the interviewer, not you.  

For you, he actually behaves. He’s trying to better himself, but the demons that dance through his head are never too far from the surface.  

“Okay, um, right,” the interviewer states, a little thrown off after a particularly crisp reply from Niklas. “Now, can you tell me about the tour so far?” 

His eyebrows furrow even further. “What exactly do you want to know?” 

“Everything. How’s it going and like, how do you feel you’re being received by the audiences?” 

He lights a cigarette, his hand tremoring with agitation. “Ask the fucking audiences, not me.” 

You can feel it, the air thickening, the interviewer shuffling his printed notes, Niklas’s eyes flitting between him and the slightly crumpled papers in his hands. “Okay, so um, like...” 

He begins winding his hand in impatience. “Spit it out!” 

“Are you, um... so do you...” 

“Say ‘um’ one more damned time to me.” 

Oh, god. Okay, you have to step in. Luckily, as his assistant, you both have a code shared to get him out of a situation he doesn’t want to be in, a key statement spoken. Holding your phone to your ear after knocking it onto silent, you feign a telephone call, nodding and humming before stepping in.  

“Niklas, it’s an emergency,” you state, looking to the interviewer as your boss rises up from his seat at speed, taking the phone from you and holding it to his ear as he marches from the room. “Sorry, that will be all for this evening.” 

The man looks more relieved than anything. Turning from him, you follow the path Niklas took, finding him down at the end of the hallway that leads out to the tour bus. 

He hands you your phone with a slight smile. “Thanks for the intervention.” 

“I wasn’t convinced you weren’t about to either down a litre of bourbon, start becoming more difficult for the guy trying to interview you, or punch him in the face,” you confess, Niklas drawing on his cigarette, a small snort of laughter sounding.  

“Probably all three,” he sniffs, “but this is why I employ you.” A little shrug follows. “At least I’m trying not to be a nightmare these days.”  

“Trying and managing, for the most part,” you tell him. He’s doing heaps better than he ever thinks that he is. 

He shrugs a little. “Only because you know all my mannerisms before I’m about to fucking explode. You shouldn’t be called an assistant. Bomb disposal expert is better.” 

Tipping your head back, you laugh softly. True, you guess. You manage to snip the necessary wires in order to prevent the inevitable detonation. “Come on, Kvarforth. Time for your next dose.”  

He looks back into the venue for a few seconds, and you know it’s killing him, not being back there revelling in the hedonistic excess that goes hand in hand with his profession. He complained to you many times before how muted it made him feel, no drugs other than the prescribed type, no alcohol. Sometimes there are women still, but he’s bored with it nowadays, so he says. ‘Every girl in nylons and smudged makeup is just as vapid and vacuous as the rest.’ 

Settling in the lounge, he takes his doses of four different pills and then moves your legs to lie between them. Resting his head on your stomach, he closes his eyes, a grumble sounding from somewhere deep in his chest. A little pissed off, but mostly content.  

“Thanks,” he speaks eventually, eyes closed, drumming his fingers against his chest. He’s still agitated, his fidgety hands revealing that. Of course, you know the signs.  

“What for?” you ask, moving your hands to his head, pressing your fingers to his temples and beginning to rotate. It’s all part of the diffusion process. 

“For putting up with me and my shit.” 

A smile plays across your lips. “You pay me well.” 

“You’re worth it.” he mumbles, his voice growing softer as the tension begins to ebb away. The rhythm of your fingers on his temples works its magic, and you can feel the weight of his shoulders gradually lighten. The bus hums with the muffled sounds coming from the venue, a faint reminder of the chaos he’s momentarily escaped.

As his breathing steadies, you glance around, taking in the remnants of a life lived under the spotlight, the discarded empty cigarette cartons, the crumpled sheets of lyrics, each a testament to the turbulent but brilliant mind resting against you.  

This is your world too, stitched together by moments of calm amidst the storms, a delicate balance between managing the man and nurturing the artist. “We make a good team, don’t we?” he murmurs, more at peace now, his agitation dulled by the familiarity of your touch.  

You smile, a soft chuckle escaping your lips. “Yeah, we do.” 

“It’ll only be a matter of time, though,” he sighs, reaching for your hands and knitting his fingers with yours, “before I fuck this up, too. Then the only little fucking piece of stability I have will leave. Just like all the rest.” 

Leaning to him, you kiss the tip of his nose, resting yours against it thereafter. “I’m stronger than the rest, hence why I’ve seen you through a breakdown and treatment for said breakdown, gotten you back on the road and helped you stay healthy. Or, as healthy as you ever can be. Being better means being better for me, too. If you do, I’m not going anywhere.” 

“Remains to be seen.” 

“Stop throwing me away while I’m still here, idiot.” you speak, shaking your head, resting your cheek against his.  

He turns his head, kissing you just above your jaw a couple of times. He stays quiet, though. There has been a trust gradually built over countless moments like this, where you've been the anchor in his turbulent sea, weaving together fragments of stability in his chaotic existence. He knows, deep down, that your presence is the glue holding his fractured world together, a delicate yet unbreakable bond forged through shared struggles and small victories.  

As his breathing slows, a quiet acknowledgement passes between you, unspoken but deeply felt. The night outside grows darker, and within this cocoon of fleeting calm, he stills.  

Ticking bombs always need to be dismantled with the care of an expert. In the case of his, you’ve never failed. One day, though, he might explode, and it’s always there in the back of your mind. For now, though, as he turns onto his side, pulling your leg over his hip as he burrows his face against your chest, his fuse has successfully been extinguished.  

For now. 

The knowledge that you are the keeper of his peace is both a burden and a privilege, a testament to the depth of your bond and the unwavering commitment you share. And as the moment passes, you close your eyes, listening to the rhythm of his breathing. 

“Can I go back and slap that journalist?” he suddenly asks, something in his brain lighting up that fuse once more. “Fucking cunt, wasting my time like that.” 

Looking down at him, you shake your head. He frowns. “You ruin all of my fun.” 

“Hmm,” you hum, kissing his head. “But I keep your peace. Tell me what’s more important to you right now?” 

He huffs, chest swelling from the deep breath he takes. “The peace. I suppose.”  

While he might sound aggrieved by that, truly, you have no idea just how much he values you for it. That’s perhaps the only part you cannot see, that within him, he’d be so much more of a mess without you there to keep him together.  

He’d be even more loathed to admit how much he actually loves you for it, too.  

[cursedvibes]

2024 Fic Review

Tagged by @voxofthevoid thank youu 😊 I'm not gonna get anywhere close to your word count holy shit xD

Statistics

My Top 5 Fics by Hits: (only counting 2024)

Surprisingly enough TakaKen fans even managed to overtake my Yuuji fic here. Then again, TakaKen has more chapters, so that might help.

Build A House From Cinders TakaKen, Kenjaku Survives AU

Eat Your Young Yuuji & Choso, Being Raised By Kenjaku AU

An Old Nightmare Jin-centric, him dealing with memories of being Sukuna's twin (not actually as it turns out, thanks Gege)

Can't Let Go TenKen, Modern/No Powers AU

Out of Touch, Out of my Head TenKen, Tengen notices that she is starting to lose control over her body and soul and asks Kenjaku for help. The resulting discussion leads to the first crack in their relationship.

Very thankful to the handful of TenKen fans who keep reading my very self-indulgent word vomit about Old Person Yuri

My Most Bookmarked Fic:

Eat Your Young

It has Yuuji and Choso in it, probably the most popular characters I ever wrote about, so it's not that surprising.

How Many Words I Wrote in 2024:

Officially 73,525, but the unpublished stuff is much higher. Not sure how high, since I don't keep track of what I wrote when and adding it all together would be a hassle. Save to say that I didn't write as much as I wanted to, particularly in the second half of the year, but I'd say it's still a decent number.

Question Stuff

1. What was the most surprising thing about writing in 2024?

How much work got in the way of me actually writing anything and then publishing it 🥲 Also that while I lost quite a bit of passion and interest in JJK overall, that doesn't apply to TakaKen and TenKen. They thoroughly keep me engaged. :D

2. What was the most enjoyable to write?

Toss up between Build A House From Cinders and Can't Let Go I'd say. Easy to tell by this also being the fics with the highest word count lol. I think it's especially the domestic (but still somewhat unsettling) aspects in both of them that I love a lot.

3. Which fic is the most underrated?

Any of the TenKen stuff, but the ship is just underrated in general. That's why I appreciate the few people who keep checking out fics. 😊

4. Which fic(s) had something "cut" or an idea that never happened?

in search of connection was originally supposed to be the beginning of a much longer fic spanning basically Kenjaku's whole life. I'll still publish the second half of it as a separate fic though.

5. Which fic(s) did you want to write but didn't get around to?

Countless...one part of it is my TakaKen No Powers AU I'm still mulling over. It's coming along, but both ideas I have are not quite finished yet.

6. Any WIPs that never got published?

more like what WIPs did I get published Basically the answer from above. I also wanted to write more about Jin and how him being Sukuna's twin affected his relationship with Kenjaku, but I'm a bit stuck there...

7. Share a snippet from a WIP fic?

Part of the second half of in search of connection that I ended up cutting and is becoming it's own unrelated thing

"Dream On"

Letting go of her and sending her to another relic of the past to keep her safe is not as unimaginable as it used to be, it doesn’t twist their insides as much. All they can think about is that man, lying there on the forest ground, blissfully unaware of the chaos breaking out around him. He is still caught in a dream, relishing in the after effects of their comedy show together. Kenjaku can’t fault him. Not even the blade piercing through their brain can chase away the image of his smile burned in the back of their mind. The thrill making their brain tremble in memory of their souls’ resonance. Takaba Fumihiko has given them joy at the end of their long life they wouldn’t have been able to imagine before. That is enough for them. Enough to be able to embrace death with only a slight twinge of regret and the hollowness of Tengen’s absence not quite as cold anymore. Void surrounds their mind and swallows them up, taking the memories of their final encounter and the loss of their first friend with them.

8. Which fic was the one you were most excited to write?

Can't Let Go I always had a lot of ideas for how Tengen and Kenjaku might interact in a non-jujutsu world. How they might meet, how not knowing each other quite as long might affect them and how there might actually be a chance for them to live relatively conflict-free together. Imagining Tengen as an old shut-in ex-professor was also fun. There was just so much to play around with and a chance to finally have them interact in a non-antagonistic way. Just lots of fun to write.

9. Fic hopes for the New Year?

Write more 🙃 So far my focus is mainly on getting that fic I posted a snippet of above published and at least one of my WIPs for No Powers AU TakaKen as well. We'll see about the rest.

Tagging: @hxhhasmysoul @kaitakushi and anyone else who wants to do it