#we are both self indulgent and projecting very heavily in this fic

[padfootastic]

reread + remus ask + oscar stan anon here! I had not even realised that ask got so long.. whoops! And this one is going to be equally long haha

I've honestly never really thought about all the implications that come with "hiding Remus is a werewolf at all cost" because you're right that the way it is handled in canon implies he wasn't even allowed to be there to begin with. I always thought there just weren't any rules against werewolves at Hogwarts (maybe people always thought of werewolves as adults and not as kids? i dunno) and that if he'd been found out there would have been rules made which would result in him getting kicked out before the year was even over. So more an implied rule than anything official with repercussions for Dumbledore (and Remus other than getting kicked out) if anyone found out.

It does pose some questions about Dumbledore and what he intended when he allowed Remus to go to Hogwarts though? Was this a trial case and did he decide it was too much of a hassle? Was it a one off thing from the beginning? Did Remus think it was a trial case and he somehow ruined it for any future werewolf children? Did Dumbledore tell Remus (at eleven!) that he should be very grateful for the opportunity and also very afraid of anything going wrong or did Remus/his parents figure this out alone? Why was Remus chosen and not a different werewolf child (I'm assuming werewolf children aren't extremely common but it's known that Greybeck(?) attacked kids right?)? Very intriguing!

Oscar and Sirius interacting is going to be The Best! Can't wait!! And another chapter with a lot of Sirius??? Christmas coming early fr. Also next chapter !!! More Sirius!!! I'm so excited!!! Sirius leaving cause he was to overwhelmed is such a mood ngl. Especially when it's because of unexpected help and change like me too dude me too. Also I forgot to mention him last ask but Kingsley >>>>>> Unbothered! Staying in his lane! Has a brain, knows how to use it and actually DOES use it! What an icon!

yoooo i love long asks so pls pls send me more haha

and ooh that actually makes a lot of sense. remus existing within the firm grey area of legislation and a headmaster taking advantage of loopholes, but the question is why? to what end? the answer would, of course, depend on what view one holds of dumbledore and his motivations, from bumbling, harmless grandpa on one end and absolute evil manipulative bastard on the other. equally likely that he wanted an innocent to receive education, but also that he was doing it as a social experiment, and even that he wanted to get a bright, young mind in his debt.

another tack, i recently read a fic where due to circumstances (like riots and pogroms), stringent werewolf legislation is introduced while the marauders are in school which requires every werewolf to declare, register, and essentially tag themselves. this means remus HAS to leave school but in addition, there are various other werewolf students who are also in hiding who’re forced to leave. that would honestly make the most sense if you don’t think dumbledore was manipulative as fuck; that the offer was given to multiple kids, but that they all kept it secret so it never came out. schrödinger’s werewolf, if u will. of course, it doesn’t make fit as neatly within canon bc if the shrieking shack was set up for remus and he was the only one using it, then it stands to reason he’s the only werewolf. so. we’re right back to where we started with the speculation haha

my personal assumption is that it was probably something like ‘a favor for a good friend’ type of a thing. dumbledore and lyall knew each other, maybe socially, maybe politically, and lyall could’ve requested him to help, and dumbledore did this. slightly nepotistic, but more believable than anything else bc that’s often what happens irl as well. this is also motivated by my impression of dumbledore as a soft core traditionalist or, at the very least, someone so comfortably entrenched in the status quo that he has no wishes to change it bc when have we ever seen it in canon? (again, not relevant to plot but even in his micro actions, this is what comes across to me) so it doesn’t seem likely that he lets remus in bc he’s championing werewolf rights or sumn ykno?

the whole pattern is simply reinforced by remus’ attitude and deference towards dumbledore as he ages. he’s indebted, to an almost unreasonable degree, and that makes me think that remus felt like dumbledore took a personal risk, at the cost of his reputation/positions etc etc, to let remus in, which is why he carries such a large burden of responsibility on his shoulders. not something he’d feel if it was an impersonal offer, ykno? so i’d very easily believe that he (and possibly lyall/hope) made remus believe, at eleven, that he should be very grateful for this opportunity and the kid just internalised it for life.

anyway, sorry for my rant in return haha clearly we’re both heavily invested in this 🙈🙈 i’d love to know what u think!

regarding FoD, yes!! i’m trying to get the tone right for oscar and sirius but this is a bit of dialogue i wrote just today and it seems to be on the right path 🙈

“I don’t deserve that, Mr. Armitage, not his love nor the work he’s put in,” Sirius replied tiredly.

I think that’s a bit unfair, Mr. Black,” was the chiding reply and it took him a while to cut through the melancholy and realise that Oscar was being entirely serious in his censure of him. He looked at him, nonplussed.

“And if I may, if there’s anything I’ve learnt in all these decades, it’s that love isn’t deserved. It merely is, and all we can do, every single day, is honor it. Try and be someone worthy of it. Can you honestly tell me you think you’ve deserved the love you’ve received in the past?”

Warm hazel eyes, filled with love and protectiveness and strength, flashed in his mind. ‘You’ll always have me, Si’. (Lies, lies, lies, he left, didn’t he, damned lies)

The warmth of a Potter Christmas, Effie and Flea’s love displayed in abundance, not a second where he felt alone.

Another set of emerald green, equally protective, equally loving, twice as understanding.

The answer was crystal clear in Sirius’ mind. No, never. He didn’t even have to voice it for Oscar to continue.

“But did that ever stop you from accepting it as the gift it was? From loving them in return?”

And just like that, Sirius understood what the man was trying to tell him. It was eerily similar to what James had tried for years, if done much more sneakily.

and sirius leaving just <3 very plot-necessary but also because mans just. cannot. he needs answers that he knows sirius won’t be able to (or even want to) give with the rest of the order present and also, everyone’s already on edge and sirius chiming in won’t help. at all. it would derail the entire thing. he can have his breakdown in peace and wait patiently for harry to come and explain. simple. easy peasy (spoiler: it wasn’t lol)

and haha yesss kingsley is shaping up to be an unexpected favorite truly. he’s the calm and peace we all need in life. harry certainly appreciates it.

[babaukulele]

Panic

Hawks almost faces his greatest fear, thank goodness your there to help him come back down to earth.

CW: anxiety, light disassociation, comfy happy ending. Hawks thinks he didn't save you in time. 

A/N this is an extremely self indulgent fic. Dissociation has been a long time  struggle for me and I sometimes project onto my comfort characters to see it from the outside and think about what would help. If you have similar struggles this is one of many methods that's helped me in the past. I can make a more detailed list of techniques later if could help anyone. 

Angst to fluff my darlings, not very proof read i’m sorry

1050 words.

He could feel his heartbeat racing. His body couldn't move although his mind continued to race. People were sprinting around and yelling. One of the sidekicks shook him by the sleeve, she could see the barely concealed panic in his golden eyes, his pupils thin slits. 

A building had fallen behind him. Your building. He had been a few blocks over, the sound of the apartments crashing simply mixed into the chaos of the attack. He had captured 10, saved hundreds that day from the destruction. Not that any of it mattered. His knees buckled, panic rose in his throat, his chest constricted. He forgot how to breathe. He staggered towards the rubble as the rescue efforts continued. He couldn't take it. He couldn't stand the thought that you might be–

“Hawks?” 

You stood behind him. Thank god you found him. You had heard the commotion, been called into action, and had run out to the streets helping people to evacuate. He turned to you sharply and froze. You immediately recognized what had just happened. 

“Help me check a vantage point. I want to see something.” you point to a skyscraper maybe half a mile to the north. You kept your eyes on him, he didn't dare look away. His sidekick looked between you. Whatever you needed was important. 

“We have it covered here, Hawks. We will see you back at the agency to finish up the report.” She gave you both a quick thumbs up and ran back into the commotion.

You nodded your thanks. He still felt frozen. You walk over and give his arm a quick pat. You needed to leave the public eye. Immediately. 

“Come on feathers” you mutter.

He finally shakes awake, grabbing you and spreading his wings for lift off. His adrenaline still coursing through his veins, you make it to the building within the minute. He has an uncharacteristically awkward landing and you try your best to hide your stagger. Finally he lets out a shaky breath. He has helped you countless times through your fears. The shock hits him like a wall and he starts to breathe heavily. You pull him to the ground to sit with you. He stares at your hands as his eyes start to well up. Losing you was his greatest fear.

“Hey, Kei.” you keep your voice low and gently hold his hands in your lap. 

“I- I thought that…”

“I know, I'm sorry I should have updated you. They called me to help evacuate a little after you arrived.” It was meant to be your day off. Thank goodness you were on call that week. 

He shook his head, still rattled and unsure. You watched him carefully. 

His breath hitches. You had a feeling you knew what was coming next. After so many years of suppressing his every emotion, his brain had saved him time and time again in the only way it knew how. 

His breathing grew shallow, his eyes started to unfocus. His brain overwhelmed, he starts to check out. You were both familiar with dissociation and how scary it could be. You also had grown close enough to recognize when it started and what could help each other. 

You gently grasp his cheek and tap your fingers a couple of times, bringing a new sensation. You needed to act quickly yet gently. 

“Hello my love. I’m sorry, I know that was terrifying”. 

Your other hand grabbed his wrist and placed his palm on your own pulse point. 

“We made it out though. I am very much still alive, a few bruises here and there but no blood loss, no head injuries, no broken bones I swear.” 

His eyes barely lifted to where you laid your hand over his. Good. any response was a good response. You smiled softly.

“Now we get to sit here together, right? The sun feels nice this time of day…”

Locking in his senses again was essential.

“...the wind messed up your hair a bit, I like it like this.” 

You run your fingers over his scalp, he leans into your touch. Your heart aches for him. 

“The ground is still here to support us…”

You pat the cement below you holding you ironically about 50 stories high. His breathing starts to pick up again. 

“I’m so glad you brought us here birdie, thank you.” 

His eyes widen at you. You smile and move closer into his lap, pulling him in for a hug. You feel him breathe in your scent, his favorite he always said. Sappy bastard. 

He lets out a sob. You try to hide your smile and rub his back.

“There you are”

He gently shakes against you, finally gaining his feeling back to his body.

“I thought I lost you.” 

“I know. But you found me didn't you?” 

He pulls you closer and squeezes. 

“I couldn't even look for you. I couldn't even move.”

You huff a laugh.

“Well I guess I was the one who found you this time. It's okay. We will find each other.”

A tear hits your shoulder, you continue to sit with him.

“I’m sorry” he whispers

“For what?”

“For freaking out, for crying, for not coming sooner.. I don't know just all of it.” 

You pulled your head back and caught his face to look at you.

“Now that's not fair is it? Should I apologize for needing your help when I'm scared? Are my emotions an inconvenience for you?” 

He shook his head, almost panicked.

“No, no of course not!’

You wrap yourself against him once again.

“So why would you? I like helping you, it makes me feel good. Don’t be selfish and take that away from me.”

He huffed a laugh. Calling your kindness selfish… 

“Lets stay here as long as we need. We can figure out an excuse later. Just, be with me for a bit?” 

He wraps his heavy wings around you and nestles his head into your neck after a gentle nod. He felt small. But he had you to protect him, a new feeling he could never truly regret. 

The sun continued to warm your skin, the wind ruffled your hair and his wings, the building held you high away from the chaos. You both let yourself feel, together. Until you were ready to join the world below once again. 

[ruiniel]

TYSM again for your encouraging words on the WIP, and for allowing further discussions! :D So, just to let you know right off the bat that it's a heavily centred Al x fem!FC (fan character) fic playing on the typical 'girl ends up at castle' setting (I truthfully didn't have the faintest clue that this was basically a trope going into the fandom! :O My heart kinda sank, ngl, thinking I had something vaguely original, buuut... I was crazy deep into the idea already and it gave me such a dopamine boost that the problem practically became a "Ahh, screw it, gonna write it anyway!" situation. ^^; Anyhoo, everything is canon compliant until S4 (it's a bit of a reimagining - starts in Al's scene in the first ep). The first chapter is a bit weak 'cause it's mainly just the entire scene in word format with a few altered bits. Purposely done though, in order to 'merge' the story into canon, so to speak... <.<; After that, however, everything will be new text until the end-ish. This does effect the length of the timeline, by... a couple months(?) so I'm hoping it's not too farfetched (I must actually rewatch some parts to see just how badly it alters it <.<; ), but even if so... Eh? (Shrugs)

*Coughs* Needless to say, it's a very self-indulgent fic. I just really adore the idea of Al in this kinda setting; getting to know someone new completely after the trauma he endured without too much interference from the rest of the world, thus allowing them both to grow close, share their stories, and just to... heal, cut loose, be 'themselves' ;) and just... to play! (Because there's gonna be decent chunk of that happening). I know CV's not exactly the most fluff-filled series, but it has its moments, and I wanna add to it 'cause I'm soft like that and I just want good things for our boi...

That being said, there will indeed be plenty'a angst, hurt/comfort, drama, S4!Horse is a prominent character, and a boatload of fluff... I'm also delving deep into the effects of trauma, fear and loss and how they influence a person's actions and thoughts (just hope I can pull them off realistically enough ^^; ).

But yeah, that's pretty much the gist of it without going into TOO much detail. It has become my baby so I do wanna continue it, if even just for myself. ^^; Thank you again, though for allowing this! :D Really appreciate it! <3

glad to share and what you have planned here sounds fab! ah on 'ending up at the castle' - don't feel discouraged lmao i wrote it too, and wasn't the only one! i still like it and what happens from there is always different even if the context is the same, each fanwriter has their own additions/interpretations of the characters. i'm doing this fun little project with a friend (lotr fandom) we're writing the same story but with different endings. we use the same OFC, same pairing, canon MC with the same affliction. we read each other's chapters so far and trust me they're very different. it's a fun exercise both for us and people who follow both stories. I think you give two people identical starting points and you'll usually get two different stories anyway and we readers love more of a favorite type of cake (at least I know I do)

It'll be your unique spin, glad you're continuing it! the S4 horse dlfkdlof poor boi did so much for that happy ending, deserves the attention! happy writing, let me know how it goes!

[captainrexforever]

His Queen

Rating: T

Word Count: ~3k

Summary: You’re a little hesitant about wearing makeup due to a past experience. Din has no problem changing your mind.

Warnings: childhood trauma??, little bit of angst, fluff, steamy makeout

Note: After the amazing response I received on my last fic I decided to write another one. After all, these ideas are still going to be swirling around my head even if I don’t put them in writing. I hope you enjoy!

Sidenote: Imagine him looking at you like this *swoon*

“Are you sure we don’t have any additional rations in the crates?”

“No, the kid snuck into the stash last night. I didn’t notice until after he polished off the last of the rations.”

Din just sighs.

“I can make the trip to the market while you finish the repairs.”

“No, I’ll go, I don’t want you to deal with all the bantha shit that goes on at these markets.”

For some reason-don’t ask why-it’s incredibly attractive to hear him curse. 

It’s touching to hear the protective note in his voice, but you feel that you are well enough equipped to handle yourself. As a teenager, you had been taught the essentials of self defense by a family friend.  

“It’s alright. I’ll have my comm with me and it won’t take long if I just place an order for delivery of the rations.”

“Alright, if you insist. Be careful.”

“I will.”

He stands from his kneeling position on the floor, where he had been checking the netting beneath the bench for any additional ration packets. You prepare to leave, patting down your pockets to make sure you have your credits, your blaster, and your comm before you set off. When you look up again, he’s standing in front of you, a tilt of his helmet betraying his inner thought process. A smile tugs at your lips.

“Looking for a goodbye kiss?”

He sighs again, and you’re certain he’s rolling his eyes beneath the helmet.

“Ner verd’ika, you are a tease.”

You giggle before raising your hands to the sides of his helmet, eyes fluttering closed as you tilt it upwards. With an accuracy born from hours of practice you lean forward, raising on your toes to press a quick kiss to his lips before allowing the beskar to fall back into place. He lets out a disgruntled huff, his hands falling to your hips and tugging you against his torso so that he can rest his forehead against yours.

“Be careful.” He repeats.

“Always.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It’s surprising how many people can squeeze into the small marketplace, vendors and townsfolk chattering away as they bargain for an agreeable price. Animals bellow in the distance, adding to the noisy buzz that fills the crowded streets. 

You find yourself enjoying the bustling atmosphere, welcoming the stark juxtaposition to the quiet serenity of the Razor Crest. Before you can become too distracted, you steer your feet towards the largest area of the forum where several shops display food and beverages. 

After placing an order of rations and directing the shop owner to deliver the crates to the spaceport, you find there are a few spare moments to wander around the market before returning to the ship and tending to the delivery.

After traveling with Din for some time now, it has come to your attention that each planet you visit boasts a unique variety of wares. The citizens of this particular planet seem to possess a fascination with water-colored mugs and delicate embroidery. Not that you are complaining, everything that greets your eyes is absolutely gorgeous.

Upon rounding the next corner though, you stop dead in your tracks. Before you stands what is obviously a cosmetics shop. Holoimages are projected against the walls of the stand, each image featuring breathtaking models who-to your immense surprise-don't have you feeling even a dash of envy. What has you so enamored is the crowd of young women that peruse the shop. They are obviously a group of friends, but what shocks you the most is the presence of their mothers. Each parent is eagerly pointing out cosmetic items and encouraging the younger women to apply the samples that are provided. Bitter tears bite at the surface of your eyes, and you blink furiously in an effort to keep them contained.

As a young woman you had constantly been dissuaded from wearing makeup, told that it wasn’t appropriate at your age. You feel pathetic, chastising yourself and turning around with the intention of returning to the ship. But you don’t get very far, a feminine voice floating past your ears.

“Miss, Miss? Would you like to join us?”

Not wanting to expose your current state of turmoil, you scrub frantically at your tear-stained face, hoping to avoid further humiliation. When you feel presentable, you turn slowly, coming face-to-face with a girl that stands even shorter than you. Practically an impossible occurrence at your height, Mando would have teased you if he was here.

“I couldn’t help but notice that you were by yourself, and well, on our planet it’s tradition for women to join together and add to their makeup collection on this particular day. It’s like the New Years of cosmetics.” Her eyes are shining, and she seems so genuine that you feel silly for your earlier judgement. “Although I am almost certain you are just visiting, my friends and I would be honored if you would join us.” Almost as if on cue, her friends rush up behind her, pleading with you to stay for just a little bit.

“Well, I…” Din will be expecting you back soon, and you don’t want to worry him.

“Pleeeaaaase!” They all beg, drawing out the word as they stare at you.

“Alright, just for a few minutes.” He won’t mind, you think to yourself. He and the kid can catch up while you are gone anyways, they haven’t been able to spend much time together lately.

The girls’ smiles are blinding and the first one grabs your hand, pulling you along as they all return to the stand to continue shopping. “I’m Tasha, by the way.” She beams. You smile back, sharing your name as well.

“What will you purchase?” Another girl questions.

“Oh, actually I don’t wear makeup.”

“You don’t?” They looked like you just told them Life day was made up.

“No, I....I never learned how to apply it.” That was close enough to the truth.

“Don’t worry, we’ll show you how!” Then Tasha is beckoning her mother over and soon they are exchanging ideas so quickly that you lose track, only picking up on fragments such as “transition”, and “complementary shade”.

“Could you please sit for a moment?” Tasha’s mother inquires, gesturing to a chair that rests next to the booth.

You’re a little hesitant, the assortment of items that they are both clutching in their hands has you yearning to turn your back and run.

Take a deep breath, it’s just a little bit of makeup, it’s not going to kill you.

After your flight instinct recedes a little, you move to sit in front of the older woman, trying not to flinch as she gently dabs several types of cream-like products on your face. She tuts here and there, discarding some of the products that she is holding as she works through all of the samples. Eventually, she finishes, holding out a wipe as she gestures for you to wipe your face. Once that is accomplished, she’s attacking the various assortment of products that Tasha is still holding. You idly wonder if it’s sanitary to be layering so many products over the sensitive skin of your face, but assume that it is probably alright if this is a common practice for most women.

What feels like hours later, after your face has been contorted into every position imaginable, your eyes weighed down by what seems to be a boat anchor attached to your eyelashes, Tasha and her mother proudly declare that you are ‘finished’-whatever that means. Then Tasha is holding out a bag of products for you to take. You eagerly accept the bag, feeling quite mature all of a sudden, and swagger over to the counter to pay the clerk. To your immense shock, Tasha’s own mother is sitting behind the register, and when you approach she insists that the items are ‘on the house’, refusing to accept any form of payment.

With a blush, you suddenly realize you have no idea how to apply any of the products yourself, but before you can even open your mouth, the older woman is sliding a piece of flimsy towards you. A detailed assembly of holoimages decorates the flimsy, demonstrations and instructions outlining the correct application technique for each product. There are tears welling in your eyes again, but you blink them back and circle the table to engulf the woman in a heartfelt embrace. She accepts the action with an affection you can only describe as motherly, patting your back gently until you pull away, then fixing you with a radiant smile.

Suddenly your heart drops into your throat, and your own smile fails. You can’t return to the ship looking like this! Din will be appalled that you delayed your departure from the spaceport to indulge in a personal shopping trip. Tasha’s mother frowns, watching as you suddenly turn frantic, scanning the nearby vicinity like a child who has been caught stealing a dessert cube. You reach for the packet of makeup wipes that sits upon the table, hastily rushing to explain the thoughts running through your head.

“This makeup is lovely, but I can’t return to my…” kriff, what should you call him...“friend looking like this.”

“And why not?” You are taken aback a little at the tone of your voice. She’s not angry, though there are hints of disapproval and surprise laced into her words.

You stammer for a response. “He...I…” Your brain sputters as you try to conjure the right words.

“Oh, I see. He’s that��kind of friend. Well, if he doesn’t like the way you look, then you seem like the type of person who will have no trouble putting him back into his place.”

She continues speaking even as your jaw falls open.

“However, I heavily suspect that won’t be necessary.” The knowing grin that spreads across her face is like that of a loth-cat that just caught a canary.

“....” You can’t manage to utter a single word, trying to force down the blush that is rising to your cheeks.

“Here, take a look into this mirror.”

Woah, is that your face? Whatever had been applied to your eyes had caused the color to pop, drawing attention to your now piercing gaze. Every feature appeared to be enhanced, and you couldn’t help but note that your jawline seemed capable of cutting through duraplast, like a vibroblade through bantha butter on a hot Tatooine day.

“I look...wow.”

The older woman chuckles gently. “You look amazing dear. Embracing your natural beauty is important, but you shouldn’t be afraid of enhancing it either. No matter what, your inner beauty always speaks louder than any outer appearance ever will. Now go catch that man of yours. I’m sure he will agree with me too.” She ends with a pointed wink.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Shadows stream past you as you jog back to the Razor Crest, hoping you are not too late to meet the merchant who is delivering the order of rations. Of course your luck is worse than you expected, and not only is there no merchant in sight, but it seems that Din has already finished the repairs. Kriff. Well, you’ll just have to return to the shop and apologize to the owner before pleading for another delivery opportunity. Then, after you settle that, you will need to prepare an explanation for Din. 

Kriffing hell.

 How do you always manage to get yourself into these situations?

“And here you had me thinking that you might have finally ditched me.” Din startles you, but there is a teasing lilt to his voice.

How is he still in a good mood? Wait, where is he?

“Up here.” He’s chuckling now too, probably at your apparent confusion, the bastard.

You look up and place your hands on your hips in disbelief of what you’re seeing. A shake of your head does nothing to help you understand what exactly is going on. At the moment, Din is flying figure eights in the air using his jetpack, the kid tucked securely in his arms while he squeals in delight. You shake your head again, looking down at the ground as a rush of affection floods your chest. The damned Mandalorian can be such a romantic without even realizing it. 

As of late, it has been difficult for either of you to discreetly purchase jetpack fuel at a decent price. Yet, here he is taking the kid for a ride, probably because he looked into those big brown eyes and couldn’t resist indulging the kid in a quick flight.

Their maneuvers continue for a few more minutes, and you wonder if you should head back to the market while Din and the kid are still occupied. Abruptly, you decide to take a seat inside the Crest for just a moment before jogging back to the store. It’s not until you scale the ramp that you notice the newly delivered crates resting inside the storage netting.

“The delivery arrived before you did, so I made sure that it was unloaded onto the right ship.” If you weren’t so relieved you might scold him for scaring you like that. Then again, he probably enjoys sneaking up on you. You scowl goodnaturedly, he’s lucky you lov--. Oh no, no, no.

No, no, no, no, no.

No, no, no.

No, no.

No.

He’s lucky you love the kid. That’s right, that’s what you meant to say.

Whew.

You move to rub your forehead, then realize that you’re still wearing what feels like fifteen layers of bantha paste and an entire canister of glitter on your face. Uh-oh. Has Din seen your face yet? You don’t think so. Your back is still facing him, but at any second he’s bound to step in front of you and notice that you’re all decked-out in makeup. 

Despite the kind words from the woman back at the market, you feel yourself begin to panic. What if he thinks you look silly, or worse what if it changes his perception of you? 

His footsteps advance forwards and you hold your breath, only for him to continue towards the kid’s hammock. It’s then that you realize the kid has fallen asleep in his buir’s arms, obviously worn out after his latest adventure. Din is exceedingly gentle as he sets him into his hammock, rocking the child for a few seconds to ensure he remains fully asleep.

As you bask in the sight of a soft, caring Din you don’t realize he’s turning around until it’s too late. He lets out a punched out sound once he is face-to-helmet with you, and although you are never sure where his visor is pointing, you know without a doubt that it is currently directed at your face. 

Neither of you move, gaze fixed firmly on the other for several minutes as a lingering tension brushes at your spine. Before you can explain yourself the lights flicker and plunge the hull into darkness, gloved hands and a beskar covered chest suddenly slamming into you, pinning you against the nearest wall so quickly that your back aches a little from the force of the impact.

“Kriffing hell.” He manages.

Oh, you definitely shouldn’t find that as attractive as you do.

“Is this what you were doing all afternoon?” His words are followed by a resonating clang, and you find yourself begging whatever deity is above that he is about to kiss you senseless. Sadly, he seems too interested in pressing a kiss to your neck while he whispers shamelessly into your ear. It’s a close second though, and you're definitely not complaining, especially when the position allows you to drop a hand down to squeeze his perfectly sculpted ass.

He lets out a growl at your feistiness, sucking at your neck in a manner that is sure to leave a visible hickey. “Maybe I should send you to the marketplace more often if this is how you’ll return.”

You let out a pleased mewl at that, proud that you are able to elicit such a passionate response from your usually stoic companion. “Sounds...sounds good to me.” Your reply is breathy, and there is no way that your lungs are supplying sufficient oxygen to your brain right now. It doesn’t help that Din has decided to wrap one of your thighs around his waist, your body erupting into flames at the suggestive positioning.

“Look so good.” It’s muttered between butterfly kisses, his lips charting the skin of your neck like it’s a flight path. “So pretty.” Another scorching kiss on your neck. “My sweet girl.” It’s half spoken-half growled against your throat.

A moan is ripped from your throat at that last sentence, and your free hand is scrabbling for purchase in his hair, using your touch to coax his lips to meet your own neglected ones. This man is going to be the death of you, you’re sure of it. He’s mewling into your mouth, half-chuckling because he knows how much you appreciate that specific action, then he’s pressing his tongue in as well, sliding it across yours as he dares you into a battle of dominance. You can’t help but indulge him, fingers tightening in his curls as you allow yourself to be a little more aggressive, pushing into his mouth as you lead him on a merry chase. Even in the most intimate of acts, Din is ever the hunter and he takes control in a record amount of time, knotting his hand in your hair so that he can position your head in whatever manner he desires. The whole act is absolutely delicious and your toe curls as you wedge yourself even closer to his armor-clad chest.

“I sure hope you have more of that stuff.” He mumbles against your lips when you both separate for a breath.

“Huh?” You finally manage after gasping down a breath.

“It makes you look like a queen.” He elaborates.

There’s no point in arguing with him, especially when his mouth returns to yours to shut down any rebuttal you might have.

It’s safe to say that any of your hesitations towards wearing makeup were cleared up after that particular incident, and you learned a couple valuable lessons that day. The most important being to buy extra makeup wipes for the Mandalorian himself. Let’s just say Din was an...enthusiastic kisser.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Ner verd’ika: my little warrior

Buir: (mother or father), in this case it pertains to ‘father’

Life day: the equivalent of Christmas in the star wars universe

[veliseraptor]

meet me where we are

[READ ON AO3]

so @deadeyellentigh​ mentioned wanting a sequel to my silence as a weapon (well. said that a fic was being held hostage and also wrote me another one) and I wanted a distraction from my long projects that are hurting me, so I went and wrote this instead! 2.3k of self indulgent fix-it (maybe! I believe in these boys. I mean I don’t but I want to.)

[brushes those fierce corpses under the rug] we’ll deal with that later. or never. what’s a few dead body secrets between boyfriends

---

“The man here with you,” Zichen said, and his voice trembled slightly, and Xiao Xingchen felt a sudden cold fear drop into his stomach thinking did he see you, did you fight, is he-

Unfair, he knew. Zichen had a right to his vengeance, or he should, only - only.

“Xingchen,” Zichen said, strained and careful, believing, Xiao Xingchen thought, that he was going to reveal a dreadful secret. “It’s Xue Yang.”

Xiao Xingchen folded his hands together so they didn’t shake. Cast his face down as though he were capable of avoiding Zichen’s eyes.

“Yes,” he said quietly. “I know.”

**

It was a betrayal. He had known that, since the beginning, and though he had never expected to have to face it he had made a kind of peace with that knowledge.

Still, Xiao Xingchen was grateful in this moment that he didn’t have to see the expression on Zichen’s face.

“You-” Zichen sounded like he was choking on the words. “You know?”

“Yes,” Xiao Xingchen said. “I’ve...known for some time, now. He isn’t aware of that - as far as he’s concerned his secret remains safe.” There were reasons he had said nothing. Reasons that he had allowed Xue Yang’s charade to continue. Suddenly none of them seemed compelling enough justification.

“Xingchen…” He didn’t need to see the betrayed expression. He could hear it, and tried very hard not to flinch from it. “You’ve - and you’ve done nothing? Why? What were you thinking?”

He’d convinced himself that his choice had been the right one. That certainty was withering now. But he kept thinking, too, if Xue Yang returned now, he and Zichen would fight. If he and Zichen fought, one of them would most likely die.

He couldn’t bear that. Perhaps, if he were a better and less selfish person, he would be able to.

But he knew himself too well.

“Three years,” Xiao Xingchen said. His hands twisted with each other and he made them still. “He has lived here with me and a-Qing for three years, and through most of that time I have listened, I have stayed close, I have been attentive to his every move. And through all that time, despite opportunity...I cannot say he is kind, or virtuous.”

“My temple,” Zichen said, his voice trembling. “My shifu - what he did to them - Xingchen, you are blind because of him!”

I am blind because of you, Xiao Xingchen thought, but he was not so cruel as to say it and never would, and anyway he did not begrudge the gift. He had given it out of grief and guilt, but he would not regret it.

“I know.”

“And you have let him live - lived with him, knowing what he is-”

The brief pulse of anger Xiao Xingchen felt took him by surprise. He let it pass, only saying, “who he is, Zichen. However monstrous his deeds, Xue Yang is a person as much as you and I.”

“So you acknowledge his deeds as monstrous,” Zichen said, not quite snapped though his anger was clear. Xiao Xingchen did not let himself flinch from that, either.

“I do. Of course.”

“But that doesn’t matter?”

Again there was that thought at the back of his mind that said you are justifying a selfish choice because you are afraid to be alone. He tried to push it aside. He had thought about this, he had thought about it a great deal, and he needed to - hold true to his convictions.

“Yes,” he said. “It matters. But-” He swallowed hard. “People can change.”

“Not all of them,” Zichen said, his voice still hard and angry, so angry, and Xiao Xingchen’s heart beat in his stomach thinking he could walk away, he could leave you again, what are you doing. “The wolf changes hair, it doesn’t change habits. And how can you possibly know? How can you be certain he has not just been waiting, biding his time? Taking advantage of you, using you-”

Xiao Xingchen sat up straight, stung. “Do you think I’m so foolish I wouldn’t be aware of that possibility? That I wouldn’t notice?”

Zichen was quiet, briefly.

“I cannot say he is kind or virtuous,” he said, quieter. “But I can say that he has not done me or a-Qing harm. Nor the people in this city.”

“As far as you know.”

Xiao Xingchen paused, but he did have to allow, reluctantly, “as far as I know.”

“Xingchen,” Zichen said, and his voice was agonized in a way that cut Xiao Xingchen to the core. “Even if you are right - even if that - creature has somehow turned from active violence - don’t his previous victims still deserve justice? The Chang Clan, my temple, heavens know how many others…”

“Would his death be vengeance or justice?” Xiao Xingchen asked. His hands wrung together so hard it was almost painful.

Zichen was silent for a long time. Xiao Xingchen wavered, on the verge of saying Zichen, I’m sorry-

He made himself say, forcing the words out through his closing throat, “whatever you do, Zichen, I...will not stand in your way.”

“You mean,” Zichen said, his voice cold in a way that Xiao Xingchen had heard before but seldom directed at him, “if I decide to kill Xue Yang, you won’t stop me.”

“No,” Xiao Xingchen made himself say, though he felt sick. Imagined Xue Yang returning, basket in hand, humming the way he did when he was in a good mood. He wouldn’t see it coming. Was that better or worse?

He imagined, deliriously, Xue Yang realizing that Zichen was here and leaving. Escaping somewhere else. Xiao Xingchen knew even as he thought it that Xue Yang never would. Not without a fight that he would almost certainly lose. And if he didn’t lose - if Zichen was in danger-

What would he do then?

“But you don’t want me to,” Zichen said, and Xiao Xingchen almost curled into himself at the pain in his voice. “It would hurt you, Xingchen. Wouldn’t it. His death - would hurt you.”

He sounded so achingly, crushingly disappointed. But Xiao Xingchen couldn’t lie.

“Yes,” he said, voice hoarse, no more than a whisper as though that would ameliorate his shame.

He will leave now, said a harsh, cruel voice in his mind. He will walk away from you. Or he will kill Xue Yang and walk away from you. He would still have a-Qing, would not be wholly alone, but…

“Then what,” Zichen said heavily, “would you have me do?”

A lump swelled in Xiao Xingchen’s throat. I don’t deserve you, he thought.

“Give me a chance,” he said. “To talk to him. Can we begin there?”

“I won’t leave you alone with him,” Zichen said immediately.

“Then - you can go inside,” Xiao Xingchen said. “Somewhere out of sight. If he sees you I doubt I’d get a chance to say a word.” And if it came to blows-

He couldn’t let it get that far.

“Xingchen,” Zichen said. “The risk-”

“Please,” Xiao Xingchen said. “Just - give me a chance.”

I don’t want to leave, Xue Yang had said, in the throes of delirium that had seemingly made him honest. I don’t want you to leave.

Oh, Daozhang. I think I like you.

He wanted, so badly, to be right.

**

Xue Yang was humming when he came back. Zichen was inside, no doubt with his hand at least on Fuxue’s hilt if not with it already drawn. He tried not to think about that; tried to project calm where he sat, waiting.

“Daozhang,” he sang out, voice getting closer. “Give you three guesses what I found. You won’t believe-”

He cut off, sharp and sudden, footsteps and voice both stopping. For a moment Xiao Xingchen thought maybe he’d seen Zichen. Or knew, somehow. He wished that he could see, wished he knew what the expression on Xue Yang’s face looked like.

“Come sit with me,” he said, trying to keep his voice calm, even.

He did not hear him coming closer.

“Where’s a-Qing,” Xue Yang said, and the ease was gone from his tone. He sounded tense, alert, wary. No, he thought. No, please. Stay calm. I need…

“Not here at the moment,” Xiao Xingchen said. “What did you find?”

“Oranges,” Xue Yang said after a moment. He still hadn’t moved.

“That sounds nice,” Xiao Xingchen said. He felt a little as though he was coaxing an animal into a trap. His stomach twisted. “I hope you got enough for all of us.”

“Uh huh,” Xue Yang said. The wariness in his voice was clearer now. “Obviously. I don’t want to listen to Qingqing whine about not getting hers.”

Xiao Xingchen tried to smile. “Is there a reason you’re not coming to join me?”

“You tell me.”

Xiao Xingchen took a breath in and said, “please, Chengmei.”

Silence. Finally, he heard slow, light steps approaching. He held carefully still, again thinking of luring some kind of wild animal in close enough to capture it, but that wasn’t what he was doing, it wasn’t.

“Daozhang,” Xue Yang said, voice a little lower. Xiao Xingchen could imagine him looking around the courtyard, searching, watchful. He kept his breathing steady and even. “Something happened while I was gone. You going to tell me what?”

Xiao Xingchen reached out, seeking Xue Yang’s arm to pull him down, but he seemed to be just out of reach. His stomach went cold and his mouth was dry.

He let his hand fall and said, as calmly as he could, “Xue Yang.”

Xiao Xingchen was listening closely enough to hear his breathing stop. And then start again, but faster.

“Please,” he said again. Calm, calm, calm. “Sit. I want to talk with you.”

“Talk,” Xue Yang said, the beginnings of a snarl in his voice but Xiao Xingchen thought he could hear the fear underneath. “Is that what you want to do?”

“Yes,” Xiao Xingchen said. “It is.”

He could hear Xue Yang’s breathing getting quicker. Almost feel his growing agitation. “Took you long enough to put it together,” he said with a nasty kind of laugh. Xiao Xingchen wondered if Xue Yang thought he wouldn’t hear the brittleness in his voice.

“I’ve known for a while,” Xiao Xingchen said. “The flower elemental poisoned you and while you were delirious you...said some things. I put it together from there.”

A brief silence and then a humorless sort of ha. He hadn’t moved, not closer or further away, not to draw a sword. “That long,” Xue Yang said, voice flat. “Did you think it was funny-”

“Did you?” Xiao Xingchen interrupted, quietly, and Xue Yang’s voice cut off like it’d been severed.

Xiao Xingchen folded his hands together so that they wouldn’t shake and said, “I don’t think you want to hurt me. I think - you did. But not anymore.”

Silence. Unlike with Zichen Xiao Xingchen wished he could see Xue Yang’s face. Wished he could get some kind of hint what he was thinking other than the too quick and slightly harsh sound of his breathing, and the fact that he still hadn’t moved, that he knew Xiao Xingchen knew and hadn’t taken any immediate action.

He paused, and took another risk. “I hope that’s so,” he said. “Because I don’t want you hurt either.”

Xue Yang’s exhale shuddered out of him.

“The fuck game are you playing, Daozhang,” he said after a moment, rough and ever so slightly unsteady. “What do you want?”

“I want you to sit with me and listen,” Xiao Xingchen said. “And do nothing rash.”

Still no movement. “If you’ve known that long,” Xue Yang said, “why are you just saying something now, huh? What changed?”

Xiao Xingchen swallowed hard. He’d hoped to be holding onto Xue Yang for this. To have a grip on him to make it harder for him to react immediately, or violently.

“If I tell you,” he said, and his voice sounded horribly thin, weak, “will you promise me not to take any impulsive action?”

This time he did hear movement, but it was a step back, not toward. Light and quiet and Xiao Xingchen could almost picture how he looked, poised, a fox either about to spring or turn and run. He could imagine Zichen, poised the same behind him, only he wouldn’t run.

He stood and moved where he would be - he hoped - between them.

“Please,” he said, almost begged. “Xue Yang. Trust me. Just for a few moments.”

“Trust you?”

“I’ve given you a chance.” One you didn’t deserve, he didn’t say.

Another long, long, silence. “It’s him, isn’t it,” Xue Yang said. His voice was flat and strangely dull. “Your Zichen. Come back for you, after he kicked you out of his life.”

Xiao Xingchen didn’t let himself flinch. He didn’t speak, either.

“How nice,” Xue Yang said, with growing venom. “So, what. Is this you giving me a chance to leave before you let him kill me, Daozhang? Because if I get a choice I’d rather you did the honors.”

He wouldn’t know, Xiao Xingchen realized, if Xue Yang went for his sword. Not until it was too late.

“No,” he made himself say. “This is - as I said. I just want to talk.”

Nothing.

“Three years, Xue Yang,” Xiao Xingchen said. His voice was soft, and a little hoarse, and not quite a plea. “Don’t throw it away.”

He took a step forward toward where he’d heard Xue Yang’s voice, where he could hear his too-quick, slightly unsteady breathing, and this time when he reached out he found his hand, folded his fingers around his wrist in a gentle tether.

Not a closing trap, he thought. An open hand.

“Trust me,” he said again. “Xue Yang,” his name, used like an invocation.

The moment quivered on a cliff’s edge, teetering, but Xiao Xingchen was suddenly, inescapably certain it wouldn’t fall.

[talesfromthepayload]

The Fall Part Two

A/N: Did I get totally distracted and let this take over my life? Yes, I did. Do I regret it? Only a little bit. Also, the reader’s intended age for the purpose of this fic is 23 at the start. (So yeah, there’s a bit of an age difference, but this is also me being entirely self indulgent.) This chapter is kind of heavily focused on Gabriel, but don’t worry the other two will be very involved coming up. 

Gabriel Reyes did not make decisions lightly.

Despite the fact that they seemed often impulsive or lacking certain forethought, he knew what he was doing, and he was confident doing it. Hiring you was not a mistake.

Jack had called him and Gérard in a few days prior to discuss your onboarding. He, too, had been intrigued by what you had to offer, but he’d been hesitant. They’d found an issue while reviewing your history, and it’d become clear that your file had been tampered with. If Gabriel had to wager a guess, he’d say you did it.

So, Jack hesitated. He wanted to dig around more, try and see why it needed to be tampered with to begin with. But Gabriel wasn’t going to let your potential go. He needed Blackwatch agents, had for a while, but those with the potential were few and far between.

He knew Jack was going to be pissed when he realized what he’d done, but he couldn’t quite find it in himself to be sorry. His intuition hasn’t failed him yet.

He leaned back with his feet on his desk, watching the security feed. He didn’t give you any information, a final test to see if you were as good as he thought you were.

Genji and McCree had tried to convince him to spar this morning, but he wasn’t passing up the opportunity of watching you walk through those doors.

It was seven o’clock on the dot when he saw your familiar figure. You were dressed in all black, a jumpsuit tailored specifically to that suit of armor you had built it seemed. It clung to you like a second skin, and had a deep v-neck in the front. There was a briefcase in one hand that helped you blend in with some of the higher ups.

Reyes knew the minute he saw you he was going to have one hell of a time keeping McCree away. The boy flirted with anything with a pulse. You were young, far too young for any of them to be looking at you, and pretty.

Maybe he was being selfish by bringing you to Blackwatch. They were all jaded and scarred, and you looked like you’d fit perfectly in Angela’s Valkyrie suit.

Still, a certain amount of pride swelled in his chest as he watched you navigate through the wide expanse of the Swiss base. There was no hiccup in your step, nothing suggesting you were anywhere you shouldn’t be.

You were even swiping into rooms that should’ve been entirely out of access for you, yet that didn’t stop you. It was mesmerizing, to be quite honest, the way you walked through crowds like you had every right to be there.

You didn’t stop until you were in the hallway outside of his office, and he sat up straighter to greet you. However, you paused, taking a moment to look up at the camera. Your eyes met his through the screen, and there was a pleased smile on your lips.

He echoed the gesture, letting out a few breathy laughs, before a knock sounded at his door. You didn’t wait for him to answer, instead walking through the threshold with the same confidence you had throughout the base.

“You need better security,” you commented.

Gabriel walked around his desk so that there was nothing but a few feet of air between the both of you.

“There are very few people who could do what you just did,” he said, shrugging one shoulder.

Your lips were pulled in amusement but you didn’t offer anything more on the subject. You laid your briefcase to rest nearby, and he couldn’t help but wonder what was in there or if it was just for show.

“Blackwatch, huh?” Your eyes darted around the room before they settled on him.

He found himself unconsciously standing straighter and puffing his chest out.

“Overwatch didn’t strike me as the type to have secret divisions,” you admitted, taking a few steps closer to him. “And boy do you get into some trouble.”

There was something distinctly playful in your gaze, and Gabriel thought it was more charming than anything. He’d never been a stickler for the rules like Jack, thus his relationship with the agents under him was a little more lax. You were blatantly flirting though, and he found it absolutely amusing.

He realized right then and there that putting you and McCree in the same room was a recipe for disaster.

“I’d say you do too, but I can’t be sure with that fake file you sent us.”

It was a callout- a challenge, really, and boy did you rise to it.

“We all have secrets, Gabriel,” you shrugged nonchalantly, gesturing to the door. “Like hiring me without consulting the Strike Commander.”

As if on queue, Jack shoved the door out of his way. Ana was close on his heels, like she was trying to temper the storm. Genji had followed them in, obviously drawn to the commotion. Gabriel knew that McCree had wandered off, not bothering to stick around if he didn’t need to. You had a quirked brow, and despite the anger of his oldest friend, he couldn’t be drawn away from the small smirk on your lips.

“Gabriel I told you to-”

He stopped short, his loud voice deafening instantly as he noticed your presence.

He was taken aback, just for a moment, though Gabriel recognized the look in Jack’s eyes. Yeah, he may have also wanted you on Blackwatch because he knew that Jack had a type, and you were most definitely his type. Intelligent, good looking, quick witted, and frustratingly optimistic- he knew that, even if it was done unconsciously, Jack would want you under his command because of it. That and the fact that he’d seen Jack spend hours reading about the work you’d done like it was the damn gospel.

“Don’t stop on my account,” you giggled, holding your hands up in surrender.

The Strike Commander blinked, clearly caught off guard.

Ana cleared her throat, shooing away Genji and shutting the door behind him, leaving the four of you alone in his office. The anger on Jack’s face was lessening, and his exterior was becoming more fitting of his title.

“Apologies, I didn’t realize you were here already.” His voice was tight, and he looked distinctly uncomfortable.

Gabriel was leaning back, looking for all the world like he could care less about what was transpiring. In reality, he was very interested in how the esteemed Strike Commander would act.

“I figured,” you nodded your head in Gabriel’s direction, “Someone’s not very forthcoming with information.”

His expression didn’t show an ounce of regret. If anything, his lack of telling you important information further proved how much his team could use you.

Jack bit his tongue, and Ana piped up to fill the silence.

“You know, Jack, I think Gabriel might be right on this one.”

You sent a warm look towards Ana, and it brought a smile to his face. Ana had always had a motherly attitude about her, it made people gravitate towards her.

“I know,” Jack sighed, running a hand through his blonde- slightly greying- hair, before holding it out to you.

You took it without hesitation, shaking firmly.

“I’m Jack Morrison,” he introduced himself, gesturing to the woman behind him. “This is Captain Ana Amari, though I’ve heard you’ve already met. And that is-”

“We’ve had introductions already,” Gabriel assured him, unable to help but add on: “I hope Genji didn’t make too much of a mess.”

You shrugged, walking past him with the same confidence you had making your way there in the first place.

“I figured now that we’re all friendly we can talk about my stolen research.”

You didn’t waste any time. Gabriel moved to watch from over your shoulder when you started typing on his computer. He was a bit miffed you hadn’t even asked him, but thoroughly impressed when three beeps sounded, alerting to the others in the room that you had successfully logged on.

“What was the research on?” Jack asked. “I’ve been reviewing your other projects, but I’m assuming you kept the one Talon stole private.”

“You assume correctly,” you smiled, looking up to shoot him a wink before going back to whatever it was you were doing.

Gabriel didn’t miss the small blush that colored Jack’s cheeks.

“IPI,” you said, pressing a couple of buttons on your watch. “Access file 07129.”

“Accessing,” a robotic voice replied.

You pinched your fingers together above your watch, before expanding them. As you did so, a holographic projection jumped to life around you. Gabriel couldn’t be too sure of what he was looking at, but it resembled the watch you wore around your wrist.

“What is it?” He finally questioned.

You puffed out a breath.

“Well, it was the first trial of my experiment.” You explained, spinning the hologram so that they could see all of the angles. “When I was a kid I wanted to save my mom. There wasn’t anything I could do realistically, so I started looking at the impossible.”

You came around Gabriel’s desk to lean gently against the front.

“Two years ago I had my first major breakthrough with temporal manipulation. I used chronal acceleration to propel an object forward in time, though just by a few seconds.”

You fiddled with your watch.

“Further experimentation and research brought me to a final conclusion. Three weeks ago I solved the mystery of time travel.”

Whatever Gabriel had been expecting, it had not been that. It didn’t sound real. There was no way somebody could just travel through time, was there?

“It took a lot of time. I had to input different equations and study the theory itself, but if they decode my work they’re going to have a fully fledged time machine on their hands and the whole of history to mess with.”

The friends shot each other looks as the room petered off into quiet once more. There was an uneasy air about, and Gabriel shifted his stance.

“Let’s get to work finding it then,” Jack finally stated, a hand moving towards the communicator by his ear.

You didn’t give him a chance to continue.

“Already done,” you exclaimed. “Atleast, potential hits.”

You fiddled with the holographic interface in front of you, lines of code swirling around your person.

“I’ve cross referenced the file number I originally gave the design through every major international database, as well as a few minor ones that have had previous ties to Talon. Most of the searches came up empty, but I did find a repeat of the word ‘chronos’ in the few encryptions I could find.”

“So they named it,” Reyes realized.

The grin you gave him was dazzling and wide.

“Project chronos got a lot more hits, though the information was scattered. You see, Talon doesn’t use its own mainframe for most of their work. They encrypt data into other locations and spread them out at seemingly random, so it’s difficult to follow.”

“But you followed it?” Jack inquired, a small smile tugging on his lips. It was obvious he was more than impressed.

“Sort of,” you conceded, “Like I said, it’s exceedingly difficult to track, but I managed to narrow down the locations.”

Jack and Ana shared a look, before he leveled you with that proud commander smile he’d nearly perfected.

“Good work, soldier. Send the coordinates and we’ll get recon teams there as soon as possible.”

With a swipe of your hand, the holographic images disappeared.

“Better yet, I’ll bring you there.”

Gabriel frowned at the sudden fall in Jack’s expression. He knew that Jack wouldn’t be letting you out into the field anytime soon. It wasn’t protocol, and Jack had enough people breathing down his neck.

“You still have to finish your basic training,” Ana said softly, taking a step forward.

You furrowed your brows.

“I can finish it later.” You assured them. “This is a hell of a lot more pressing.”

Jack shook his head, trying for a more gentle approach.

“We can’t let agents into the field who haven’t finished their initial training.”

“But this is my research…”

Your eyes were pleading with the two of them. Ana looked stern, but Jack couldn’t maintain eye contact. It was clear he wanted you on the mission too, if only because you knew what you were doing. 

“We’ll send a recon team, and if you finish your basic training quickly enough, you can be a part of the strike team.”

Gabriel made the decision for them, and though you didn’t seem entirely satisfied, the answer still had you nodding. Jack gave him a look, one that told him they’d be having a long discussion later on, and turned his attention back to you.

“You’ll be reporting to me for your training.”

Gabriel wondered why he was keen on training you himself. He didn’t personally train recruits anymore- hadn’t for a while.

“As for Blackwatch,” Jack leveled Gabriel with a hard stare. “Gabriel will handle any additional training.”

He inclined his head in acknowledgement, letting the man know he understood. Jack was leaving your combat skills mostly to Gabriel. 

Jack turned his back to where you stood, effectively ending the conversation. He only made it as  far as the door before he stopped himself short.

“I did want to ask,” he began, “Why the fake documents?”

One hip was propped forward, and you looked as comfortable as could be. Your smile was a fair bit mischievous as you stretched languidly.

“I can’t show my hand before you’ve shown yours.”

Ana hid her smirk.

“Right,” Morrison affirmed, stomping away with the same confidence and authority he always wielded.

Ana was quick to follow, though her steps were quieter.

A tenseness settled in the air with them gone, and Gabriel didn’t dare to be the first to interrupt it. You were idly tapping your fingers on his desk, seemingly lost in thought. Finally, after a few moments, you pulled yourself from your own thoughts.

“So,” you drawled, siddling on up to him with your brightest, most friendly smile. “When’s the tour?”

Gabriel fought the twitch of his lips, instead giving you a deadpan look.

“Training starts now.”

It was a statement you barely had time to register before his fist was flying out. You dodged it narrowly, taking a few steps back to find a proper fighting stance.

“You sure are violent,” you muttered.

He didn’t offer a verbal response, instead going for a second strike. When you moved to avoid the attack, he changed tactics last minute, forcing you to the ground. The floor was cold and hard, leaving your back arched at the sudden sensation.

“Okay, not cool.”

“Sloppy,” Gabriel tsked from above, looking like he put no effort into taking you down.

The anger that morphed onto your face reminded him of a cat getting ready to retract its claws. Cute was a word that came to mind, though he didn’t dare say it out loud for fear of pissing you off more.

You rolled out of his reach before jumping back to your feet. Your movements were quick, but unpracticed. You definitely would be able to hold your own against your regular run of the mill civilians, but he was sure you’d need far more practice before you could start taking on fully trained soldiers.

Your eyes were calculating, and he found it a bit unnerving how you seemed to be reading him. From what he’d seen already, and what he’d found in your file, you were a genius. God only knows what you’d found on him already.

He didn’t move a muscle as you approached slowly, cautiously. His stance was firm, and he was ready to go back on the offensive should you decide for an impromptu attack. Still, he watched your body grow closer with a raised brow. Your movements were poised, an elegance not suited for a soldier.

His heart thumping wildly in his chest was the only noise as you leaned up to your tiptoes, keeping less than an inch away from his body. His fingers twitched, and he was idly aware of just how pretty you were. Dangerous was the word his mind supplied. Too pretty and young to keep his mind on more pure thoughts, and it had been so very long since he’d given into more carnal desires.

“You lose,” you whispered, the words kissing his ear, forcing a shiver down his spine.

Your proximity stuttered his system, and it took far longer than normal for him to realize what you’d said.

A questioning hum vibrated in his chest.

You pulled back the smallest bit, a wicked smile on your glossy lips that spoke of a danger he didn’t dare name. Being the devilish little thing you were, you winked, and nodded your head to something just behind him.

He tore his eyes from you, only to be met with the glowing stare of your suit of armor. It had the arm raised, the repulsor beam charged and ready to fire at a moment’s notice. How it’d managed to sneak up on him, he couldn’t be sure, but a frown pulled at his lips.

“That’s cheating.”

His voice was low enough to be a growl. He hoped you could hear the disappointment in it. (Though, if he were being completely honest, he was more disappointed in himself.)

You laughed, a light, melodic sound compared to the normal gruff voices that lingered through the halls of Blackwatch.

“Well, this is not what I expected,” a voice drawled lazily from the doorway.

Gabriel wanted to curse at McCree, but he held his tongue and glared at him instead.

“I think Clint Eastwood got lost,” you mock whispered to the commander.

His frown deepened in an effort to avoid smiling. You either didn’t notice or didn’t care, moving away to properly greet the new arrival.

“Jesse McCree,” Jesse tipped his hat, all charming smiles and vexatious eyes. Even the introduction of his name was a flirt.

“(Y/N),” you replied in kind, and Gabriel didn’t care for the way your name rolled from your tongue. It had far too many implications for one word.

“Pleasure, darlin’.” His voice was smoother than honey.

Gabriel cleared his throat, hoping to draw some attention away from the flirty cowboy and back to the mission at hand.

“I don’t doubt it,” you chuckled gently, eying him up and down before you turned back towards the commander.

“Don’t you have a sparring session to finish, McCree?” The commander bit out, crossing his arms over his chest.

His expression was nothing but intimidation, and the cowboy didn’t look the slightest bit perturbed.

“I was looking for something more interesting to do,” he explained with a shrug. “Looks like I found her.”

You puffed out a breath.

“That one usually work for you?”

“McCree,” Gabriel’s voice was venomous, and despite the cool facade on the younger agent’s face, he knew when pushing his commander was taken too far.

“Right,” Jesse inclined his head, “I’ll be off, but feel free to visit me anytime, sweetheart.”

Gabriel didn’t care to hide the annoyance on his features at the smile you had on yours. Despite McCree’s swift exit, you hadn’t made an effort to turn from where he was standing.

“You sure do have some characters,” you finally said, breaking the silence.

Gabriel blamed his anger on the interruption and useless chatter. Though, maybe it was because of the way your attention shifted so easily to whoever demanded it.

“The suit,” he gruffed, throwing an accusatory thumb to where it stood ready for an attack behind him.

The gun metal grey exterior was sleek, and the body looked almost identical to an outline of your own. Blue lights lined the feet and arms, and despite the flashy look, he knew they held purpose. Clearly, this could house you if you so chose it to. 

“The original,” you said, pressing something on the screen of your watch.

The suit operated almost like an omnic would, though he knew there was no consciousness about it. The lights flickered off, and he watched with interest as the suit disassembled itself, until nothing was left but an unsuspecting briefcase. If he hadn’t witnessed it with his own eyes, he probably wouldn’t have believed it.

“It’s not as high tech as the newer models, but it certainly does in a pinch.”

“And you made that?” He asked for confirmation, in genuine awe of your capabilities.

“Nearly eighteen months ago now,” you smiled, though unlike the teasing or mischievous ones, this one was genuine. “If you think that’s cool wait until you see the rest of them.”

He nodded his head in the direction of the door.

“I think it’s time I take you on that tour,” he declared, picking the briefcase off the ground and handing it back to you. “There’s a few people you might be interested in meeting, and a few places I think you’ll enjoy.”

Your fingers brushed his as you took a hold of your briefcase. The contact was fleeting, but warm.

“Lead the way.”

[anghraine]

I was looking at my AO3 page, and ... I have a pretty jumbled mix of feelings about what I’ve written, honestly.

I don’t expect many people to care, but going with the top 11:

1. Season of Courtship (Austen): I wrote it at 19 alongside The Rich Are Always Respectable, alternating on a schedule, in fits of depression and mania. A few years later (in a better frame of mind), I revised it—some sections quite substantially. I’m glad people like it but feel kind of weird about it being The One.

2. per ardua ad astra (Star Wars): I wrote this in a haze of Rogue One feelings between early 2017 and mid-2018. I was dealing with some mental health issues, but not 2005 hell, and it helped with them. I feel vaguely bad about the perpetually unfinished half of a chapter on my Drive, but I am fond of the fic generally.

3. But Thou Didst Not Leave His Soul In Hell (Star Wars): I was listening to The Messiah and had the idea of a bunch of short SW fics set to various lyrics; this is one of them. It was a strange but fun project and super soothing after Austen fandom, so it’s nice to see such a short thing up here.

4. we get dark, only to shine (The Borgias): I wrote this during my MA, and the academic and fic research crossed over heavily, which made both easier. I’d finally gotten diagnosed as bipolar and put on mood stabilizers, I was getting A’s in everything, and its fandom was the absolute nicest I’ve ever been in. Best fandom experience bar none.

5. tolerably well acquainted (Austen): I had some P&P feelings and started self-indulgent drawer fic that just kind of grew. Slowly. Very slowly. But eventually it reached the point where I decided to post what I had, and ... it’s still ongoing.

6. Contradictions and Varieties (Austen): this comes from my better Austen fandom days. There was a prompt at Firthness and the first half of the fic was my fill for it, and then I tacked on an ending later. I feel like the division is very obvious and it’s pretty uneven, so I’m kind of meh about it.

7. Anomaly (Austen): the ace!Darcy fic, inspired by the ace manifestos community on Dreamwidth. I thought of actually writing a manifesto for him, and then just wrote fic instead. It’s not my best fic, but it is my precious child and every nice comment warms my heart to this day.

8. Ten Facts About Harry Potter (Harry Potter): my take on Slytherin!Harry, something I’ve always deeply loved in concept and very rarely in execution. It’s ... eh.

9. First Impressions (Austen): also not my best fic, but I planned it for a year and then wrote it for a big bang, and it largely turned out the way I wanted it to turn out. That doesn’t often happen! And I had friends who were super encouraging the whole time, and was in a good place mentally, and ... it was a joy, really. 

10. The Talk (Austen): It sure exists. (More seriously, it’s not really “me” and feels very remote.)

11. Redemption (Star Wars): this was my first SW fic ever and I shoved a lot of my ambivalence about ROTJ and the PT into it while trying to stay away from fix-fic implications. It was really fun to write for a new fandom, so I just did whatever popped into my head, and ... it doesn’t bother me, since I had such a good time writing it, but in retrospect it’s a strange little thing.

¯\_(ツ)_/¯

[risthebrave]

okay so i was going to send in an ask for the director’s cut thing, but there were too many fics i wanted to ask about 😭 i’ll send them in but PLEASE keep in mind you don’t have to do them all i feel bad dmfjsjf

move so pretty (you’re all i see), sleeping on our problems, works like a charm, just a flicker in the dark, and sweet like honey

ahhh omg thank you for sending these in! i’m so sorry for how long it took to get out - i may have forgotten about it shjkskss also i don’t mind talking about all of them but i’m definitely going to keep each one short. you can find them under the cut:

move so pretty (you’re all i see) ~

this fic was started initially when i was doing word prompts using curiouscat! people would send me words and i’d write a quick little drabble/snippet... they’re typically around 300-ish words but i got the word “owns,” and maybe got a bit carried away? i think that prompt ended up being 1k words - too long to post using cc so i had to take screenshots and post as separate tweet. 

the idea that came to me was something i love to read in fics: one of them walking in on the other masturbating. i didn’t intend for it to become anything more than that snippet but i what can i say? i got intrigued. my brain helpfully provided a backstory: best friends, harry maybe having feelings for louis but not wanting to ruin their friendship... 

fast-forward three days and i posted an 11k fic shjssks

this was my first attempt at writing a pwp so that was an interesting experience!!! i’m too obsessed with giving backstories and arcs to ever write just pure smut but this is the closest i’ve gotten??? 5.5k/11k being smut, that is. and for once coming up with the title wasn’t too hard because there’s one song i always think of when it comes to best friends to lovers and that’s lucky!! 

i don’t really know what else to say for this one! i remember sarah and i both wrote and posted pwps in a short span of each other so that was fun... she’s actually the one who motivated me to finish and post this fic instead of just letting the idea go. and her dog ended up in the story: chica <3 my absolute favorite <3333

sleeping on our problems ~

welp. this fic was a struggle for a long time. idk if i’ve talked about it on this blog but this fic was initially an exes to lovers fic!!! where they spent harry’s rut together right before breaking up and then louis finds out he’s pregnant and angst ensues. 

changing it to a one-night stand (even though it wasn’t only one night shjksks) ended up being a really good decision in the way that this new version of the story required a lot less angst and reflection of their past relationship, choices, actions!! that first fic was going to be a lot heavier i think shjsks but i really love how it turned out!!

barring the main tropes, the progression of the story and the outline itself changed so. much. in the process of writing... i found an earlier saved version of my outline and the story is almost completely unrecognizable haha. and actually the most recent saved version of the outline is also not 100% accurate to the final story because for the last 10k of the story, i was flying completely free shjsksk. 

also, even after i finished the fic, i went back and added two scenes the next day so it’s safe to say i changed so much of this story -- it was never supposed to be that long either hsjsksk the goal was 48-50k and i thought i was being optimistic!

somewhat in the same vein but also really different: this fic was one of the first fics i ever wrote out of order! before this, i had switched around maybe a couple times when writing a fic but mostly stuck to chronological order. but in this one i kept getting stuck with certain scenes and decided that i’d never reach my goal of finishing unless i switched to parts of the story i had the inspiration to write in the moment instead of getting stuck on one single part i had no motivation for. it really helped the process and i’ve been switching around ever since. 

another thing that really helped me actually finish this fic was the motivation and encouragement of people on twitter and i’m still so appreciative of it now :’) there’s no way i could have finished this fic without the kind words and well wishes of my mutuals!!

(also - i included an easter egg in this fic from another one of my fics... i suppose that’s sort of the type of insight that fits for these things? the ballet louis and harry saw in new york was swan lake <3)

works like a charm ~

ooo i wrote this fic for my friend’s birthday!! she loves hp aus and slytherin hl so it was just a given that i write that for her. i was on a deadline - pretty sure i made the doc on september 4th, aka nine days before i posted - and i hadn’t had my full outline done when i started which is is... let’s just say very uncommon. 

this is another example of me going off outline and changing the story as i went because initially the estimation was about 12k and the basic plot was that after they’d fuck for the first time, they’d immediately talk about the past and resolve those misunderstandings. but when i got to that point, i realized it felt too rushed for how the story was progressing so i extended it a bit and added some more *tension* and *miscommunication* until they finally got their shit together!

also i feel like some would find louis’ blatant lies when interrogated about his feelings for harry to be unrealistic but as someone who has definitely done the exact same thing (lmao - without the happy ending), i find it a definite possibility. and i mean, we all say stuff we don’t mean under pressure - whether it’s to louis’ (and my) extent or not. 

another thing i remember about this fic was having to work out with sarah - who was also posting a fic for this friend’s birthday - posting times and dates. we eventually agreed that she’d post first and i’d post the day after (neither were the actual day of the birthday because we were both running late!) this is a conversation we proceeded to have many other times since we both have made habits of birthday fics and we pretty much have the same friends. 

all of this was also happening in sync with us writing a fic together for our other friend’s birthday which was on the 8th... yes it was exactly as chaotic and stressful as you’re thinking but also fun! and i love all three fics involved!! haha. 

just a flicker in the dark ~

okay this fic is definitely my favorite thing i’ve ever written and i’ve said that before many, many times but it’s true! but it too changed so much from the initial idea to the final end product. 

in fact, the original idea was a 20k somewhat-crack fic where harry was a ghost and louis was the paranormal investigator trying to get him to stop haunting this house. it was just supposed to be a quick and fun halloween fic to work on while finishing up my first blff and finally making head way on my abandoned second blff... obviously, that changed drastically. 

it initially started with me getting the idea of louis and harry being partners and enemies. and then i was thinking... why not throw exes on top of it while we’re there??? that was completely self-indulgent since exes to lovers is my favorite trope of all time. but the idea was still that they were paranormal investigators trying to work a case on a haunted house and though the estimated wc had raised to 35k, i was still hoping that it’d be quick and easy because i had two other projects that needed a lot of my attention. 

then came the first day of october. i woke up after having the craziest dream about louis and harry and the ghost that was not really a ghost. i ended up writing about 7k that thursday and the story really just took shape from there. the first sequence i wrote was actually the scene where louis goes into the backyard and ends up in the pocket dimension where the spirit imprints on him - i think it was a 3.5k scene and it just flew out of me sjksjsk. after that i took a small break to start my outline but it was more of a messy list of ideas and details and things i wanted to include than my usual organized format. the next scene i wrote that day was the scene where louis is in the bedroom and the demon is there but harry is not but then he is (i’m so good at describing things, right?) that’s actually one of my favorite scenes i’ve ever written and the funny thing is that i barely even knew all the details of the demon plot by this point but my hands just kept typing and my brain had the tendrils of the story forming and that amazing feeling that this is something good. 

i could ramble on forever about the process of writing this fic but i’ll just say that it’s the most fun i’ve ever had writing anything ever. word-building and supernatural elements are my favorite and getting to delve into those things here was so much fun! the entire process took twenty-five days (spanning from october 1st to october 28th - with a small three day break to focus on finishing miss wedding au!!) and though i did have some small struggles and moments of writer’s block, for the most part the story just came to me. and it’s so amazing to me because i didn’t even have all the details and facets of the plot until louis did too but it ended up working out??? if anything, it showed his process of figuring things out really well because it was the process of me figuring things out!

also this was the first time i heavily featured a fic pet in a fic and i fell as much in love with venus as everyone else did :’) she has my heart, truly <3 i love this world and these characters so so much and i hope to return to it sometime in the future!

sweet like honey ~

whooo, okay, this fic... yikes. this fic was a capital s Struggle. 

so basically this fic was written for the blff and though it came out first, it was the second prompt i signed up for, prompt 63: Friends to lovers AU where Harry and Louis are best friends and flatmates in Uni and they both need money, Harry for his gym membership and Louis for cute stuff like sanrio plushies, so they decide to film homemade porn videos together. Louis is shy and sweet and maybe inexperienced and Harry kinda doms him.

i remember the exact moment i saw the blff post on tumblr about it being allowed to sign up for another prompt from that point on - i was sitting at the counter at my friend’s ranch’s kitchen eating crepes and browsing on my phone. i saw the post and immediately signed up for this prompt because it had been my second choice and though i love love loved my first prompt so much, i was disappointed at not being able to write this one... but i did!

the idea and basic outline was actually completed way back in july/august but for some reason i just couldn’t make any actual progress on it for so long??? i’m pretty sure the document was stuck at 5k for over three months shsjksks to be fair, i did keep pushing it to the side in favor of other newer fics but i was just experiencing the biggest barrier when it came to this story and characters. 

in fact, i actually reached out to the mods in late october about a potential extension - they informed me that all writers could use a two week extension if needed and i figured that would be fine. however, i didn’t end up using it! within the first few days of november, i managed to pull the wc up to 8k by the skin of my teeth (was still majorly struggling) - i was still sure i’d need an extension but then something really awful but in this case, helpful, happened... 

election week. 

basically, i’m a big stress-writer. writing is what i do when i’m upset or anxious or stressed because it truly is my happy place. i wouldn’t say writing during that week made me feel much better about everything going on but it provided a distraction. so much though that i went from 8k to 24k in the span of a few days... and i have absolutely no recollection of writing any of it. 

not only did i not need any extension, i also somehow ended up finishing early by a few days. and i really liked what i had!! or what i remembered of it anyway shjskks.

one thing i remember really focusing on in terms of these characters and dynamic was having it actually just be them starting as friends and developing feelings later. i feel like a common trope in friends to lovers fics is having one or both of them with pre-existing feelings that they feel is unrequited. obviously there’s nothing wrong with that (i’ve written it myself lol) and it’s a common trope for a reason - because it’s good - but i wanted to try something a little different. them actually filming these videos is what acted as the catalyst to them beginning to view their relationship with new eyes and open the door to the eventual feelings that developed. 

i also had so much fun writing harry’s pov in this one haha. i feel like this version of him was really bold and shameless and super easy for me to develop. 

this is also the closest i’ve ever gotten to meeting my estimation word count... ever. my estimate was 32k and it ended up at 33k!!! and yes i’m more proud of that than i should be lol

-

anyways, i pretty much just rambled but if anyone sees this and gets some good insight out of it, then yay! feel free to send more director’s cut inquiries!! i love doing them (even if it takes me weeks - sorry again!)

[shadowsong26fic]

Coming Attractions!

First Monday of the month, which means a Coming Attractions post!

Precipice:

…I know I keep saying this, but I legit do intend for the last two chapters in Arc 7 to go up in the Very Near Future, lol…I know more or less what needs to happen in all four-five scenes I have left, I know vaguely what order I want them to go in, it’s just a matter of sitting down and writing them (and cleaning up the one I have mostly done). So, yeah. It will happen, and then we can move on to Preludes and Promises and get to some OT-era stuff and characters, which should be fun!

Other SW Fic Projects:

I finished up an exchange fic! I thought it turned out pretty well, if a little bit rushed. Anyway, my giftee liked it which is the most important thing. Basically, going over Anakin and Padme’s courtship in an AU where she’s already married to someone else when they reconnect.

Other than that, I’ve been noodling some on the dragonshifters AU (which, unless I come up with something better between now and then, assuming I can tease out an actual Plot, either this or OFLAM will probably be my SWBB project for next year). Still trying to finalize exactly who knows Anakin is one--with Padme, it’s just her immediate family and her handmaidens who know (she’s Discreet mostly because of the weight dragonkin carry in Naboo mythology, she wants to be sure that that’s not the reason she’s elected or appointed to any of her political positions, which is Antithetical to her views on democracy); with Bo-Katan, it’s an open secret, in that it’s Known that the younger of the two Kryze girls is dragonkin, but most of the time it’s better for her not to be Obviously the younger of the two Kryze girls so she doesn’t advertise or shift very often. But for Anakin, given his background, his default impulse is to hide it from everyone. I was discussing it with some people, and I’m pretty sure Obi-Wan has to know. Padme, of course, will find out when they get married, and I’m pretty sure Ahsoka learns early on into their partnership. Not sure about anyone else in the Order or Rex, but I’m leaning towards no, at least until the Plot, whatever it may be, really kicks into gear. But I’m still waffling.

Anyway. Still searching for a Plot on that one, still noodling at some other things, but yeah. Not a lot of actual Progress made in terms of SW fic (other than exchange piece) this month.

Other Fanfic Stuff:

<.< >.> I’ve been rereading a bunch of old ATLA RP logs, lol. Soooo like last month, IDK if I’m actually going to write anything (a lot of what’s been bouncing around in my head is heavily self-indulgent AU stuff or very OC-centric or both. ...mostly both) but it’s possible? It is kind of hilarious to come across OCs I would have to retire (for example, I had a mixed NWT/EK character who was an earthbender who at minimum I would have to rename because, uh, canon!Yakone is actually Kind Of Important lol) or significantly rework (good lord I had some Bonkers character concepts running around) if I were to use them, but a lot of them I still find fairly interesting/compelling? I mean, Kirana actually ended up migrating to one of my original worlds (although Farglass!Kira is a lot calmer/more at peace with herself and her ability to see the future than ATLA!Kira is, and didn’t bring her ATLA siblings with her) but there’s still some cool people I could keep working with, if I wanted. I have a vague notion of where I might start, in terms of what I’d want to do if I did get back into writing for this fandom, but I’m still waffling (and I’d probably want to rename the kid if I did do anything with this particular plotline but IDK). (…basically, at least initially canon-compliant story where Lu Ten had a girlfriend during the Siege, only things get A Lot More Complicated from there, starting with the Someone To Remember Him By trope. Probably throwing in a couple of my other OCs for good measure because Why Not.) Like I said, IDK if I’ll actually get back into actively writing for this fandom, or if I’ll use that particular OC/plot thread if I do, but that’s percolating in my brain a bit lately.

Every so often, some of my BSG OCs or plot threads pop up in my head but no real movement on them lately, but it’s always possible!

Original Fiction:

Thanks to a daily prompt challenge on rainbowfic, I actually got a bunch of stuff done this month! I think I only wrote…like…one piece that introduced any new characters/concepts/important plot devices but still! Writing happened!

For next month--well, like I said, priority is gonna be those two Precipice chapters. Probably noodling at some other stuff, both SW and other fandoms/ATLA. Hopefully writing some more original stuff as well, but we shall see.

...aaaaand I think that about covers it for this month! What about you guys? What have you been up to lately?

[burn-your-face-upon-the-chrome]

My Writing Schedule For Nov - Dec

Heads up, this gets kinda lengthy because I over explain everything. What I'm vomiting onto this blog will pertain heavily to my dumpster fire of a fan fiction series which centers around Slit the Trash Lizard and his Scavenger Country friends. Yes, he's paired with and OC in it. Am I ashamed? No. Are we delving into why I'm not ashamed? Also no, we don't have time for that, because that's what I'm here to talk about today. Time.

I have incredibly poor time management skills when it comes to anything I'm not being paid to do. Essentially, what I want to do today is lay out a two-month plan for the About a Lizard series and squeeze into the following twelve months time for other fiction endeavors which include two original stories, a fanwork in the Aliens versus Predator universe, and a crossover with I'mRobin on AO3.

Normally, I post vague updates on the progress of the next chapter in the top notes of my submissions on AO3, I haven't been doing that because lately, my head is in ten different places at once.

The plan for AAL is to take all of the notes and information about loosely planned chapters for the current installment of the story (We can call it book two) and break down those chapters further by summarizing individual scenes within them. I already do this but I only do it one chapter at a time as I work, and then I tend to abandon a fully summarized chapter for weeks on end while I putter around procrastinating.

When I write these summaries, they generally contain a list of concepts that need to be addressed at a precise point in time along with character actions and an idea of the content of dialog between the characters. For an example of what this actually looks like in a summary: “Dune needs to lament about the potatoes she was trying to grow and how more than a month without steady watering has probably killed the spuds. Maybe have her dig around in the pots (old tires) to check for survivors.”  

It's basic stuff and the above line of quoted text is the substance of an entire small scene. Many of these summaries are much longer but even these tiny ones are incredibly helpful. They help to keep me on track with where I want a chapter to go, what I want it to cover, and it helps me to enforce self-control in keeping from wandering off in my head and indulging in unnecessary info-dumpery. Once this small scene is finished, I know exactly where I need to shift my attention because I already have that information at my disposal in the next summarized scene.

Knowing where you're going helps more than you think. I know the trajectory of the story as a whole, but getting from point A to point B within individual chapters is easier said than done. As an example: If you're writing a story about a girl named Jane who finds a magical singing rock in the woods, but you need her to travel across a country to find a wizard to explain the significance of the singing rock, then you need to have something happen during that journey. If this journey is to be concise enough to fit into a single chapter, you'll need minor conflict and resolution within that chapter, and it can be as extreme or subtle as you want, but it still has to exist and that requires thought and planning. Alternatively, you can take that cross-country trip that Jane goes on and turn it into the flesh of an entire story, where the journey itself is the story, not so much whatever is going on with the singing rock. I'm trying to avoid letting the minor plot interfere with the primary plot. Using Jane and the Rock as a euphemism for minor plot sequences: I want these “trips to find the wizard” to be consistently contained within one chapter without becoming arcs of their own which would interfere with the primary plot.

Phew! Now that you know what I mean by summarized chapters and scenes, and have probably realized that I am completely out of my mind, I can get to the point of this. I'd like to summarize scenes for all thirty-three planned chapters of “The Road to Nowhere” as soon as possible. Why would I want to do all of this work when I could simply be flat out writing? Because if I do this and get the bulk of the planning out of the way, I will ultimately be producing chapters at a far faster clip. If every chapter consists of between seven and ten scenes and I can flesh out one scene per day, that means I could publish one chapter approximately every ten days versus one chapter every month or several months. This better executed organization process would see the fic finished in a little under a year. I don't want to do the math and find out what that time-frame looks like if I continue on at my current pace. It probably looks something like six years, UGH!

Organization matters and at the moment, I don't have it. I can probably summarize the whole dang fic scene-by-scene within a couple weeks if I really apply myself to it. I may get only small way into this process before I say “Screw this!” and continue work chapter by chapter as a good little fic pigeon, but even if I only plan out three or four chapters at a time, I'm still coming out way ahead of the game. That's important to me. So, that is what is going on with the About a Lizard thingy. The following is a bullet point of dates and plans for November - December regarding About a Lizard and other projects

The next piece of writing I'm likely to crank out is an update chapter for the crossover titled Unlikely which I am working on with ImRobin over on AO3. I would like to publish this by the 15th of November at the very latest but I’ll probably be able to manage it far earlier. It is incredibly well structured because two people are working closely to hack out dialog and actions for each character to prevent out of character sequences and to give both parties as much creative control as possible in each chapter. It should not take long if I can sit for a few hours without interruption to work on it.

Chapter 4 of The Road To Nowhere is already started and I'm slowly scratching out the first draft scene by scene when I feel like writing. That will probably pop up on AO3 shortly after my half of the update on Unlikely, so expect it by the 17th at the very latest.

Once chapter 4 of The Road to Nowhere pops up on AO3, I will be summarizing and planning the rest of the chapters as much as I can with the goal to plan all scenes for all thirty-three (or more) chapters by mid-December. Once this is done, I'll be able to focus effort in a more meaningful way and lay the foundation for a routine where I flesh out one scene per day and hopefully begin submitting a chapter every ten to fifteen days instead of every month or two.

Chapter 5 of The Road to Nowhere should appear by the end of December.

If I can get this rhythm to work, I may take periodic breaks every five chapters to do work on a few original short stories I've had in my head for years but not enough organizational skill or confidence to execute. These may turn up on AO3 as well.

In short, to my best knowledge, updates will appear in the following order. Keep in mind personal schedules prevent me from knowing exact dates when future Unlikely chapters will get written.

11/13/18 – 11/15/18: Unlikely will update

11/16/18 – 11/17/18: The Road to Nowhere will update

11/17/18 – 12/15/18: I will be working solely on summarizing scenes for TRTN & Unlikely

12/25/18 – 12/30/18: The Road to Nowhere will resume with the submission of chapter 5

All chapters of The Road to Nowhere thereafter will be scheduled for submission within ten to fifteen days of each other.

[castorre]

The Quieting of the Castrum

A super self-indulgent fic I’ve been trying to finish. It involves the Garlean AU where Eclair and Mory are scientists working on the Resonance project, but Eclair decides to go with Aulus to Castrum Abania. This is based off of a certain ask meme. 

Sirens wailed, signalling the breach of Castrum Abania’s innermost levels. Scientists of all kinds sought either the single remaining transport or attempted to flee into the underground bunkers.

Of all the things to happen, when Aulus had been called to Ala Mhigo to speak with the crown prince. How was she to help her fellow scientists? What was she to do except wait for her own demise? Eclair sat, curled into a corner, holding her knees to her chest. She would be found eventually. They would surely seek the servers for the Castrum, hoping to find the information abound about both the Empire and the experiments which had taken place there.

A small bleep of sound recalled Eclair to the one terminal in the small room. She tapped on the keyboard, entering the requisite information.

[Accepted]

[Cloud Upload Complete]

She breathed heavily, the heat of the servers stifling the room. The cooling had been one of the things necessary to disengage once the Alliance began pushing further into the Castrum. They had to reserve those small stores of energy.

[Delete Server Cache?]

[Accepted]

[Working....]

A loud bang startled the duskwight from the terminal. Yelling, more banging.

“Fuck me…” She glared back at the terminal, just as it reached completion. “Good, just a little more. Work with me.”

[Format Server Mainframe? (This will delete all data from the server storage memory)]

[Accepted]

[Working…]

The heavy metal door creaked. Another loud bang, sending flames sputtering through the small spaces between the wall and the door. Explosives? She would soon be found out, but all there was left was to pray, to whomever would hear her, that her task would finish before they found her.

She retreated to the darkest corner of the room, hidden behind a mass of wires and steel and magitek. She ran her hands through her coat carefully. Twas unfortunate that she had not been in the labs when the initial sirens sounded. She would have at least been able to arm herself with the multitude of acids or oxygen-aided explosives they had developed.

The door shook, finally giving way to whatever explosives they had used to splinter the metal. She shrank against the wall, hoping they would only give a cursory glance over the room before leaving.

“Well, what do we ‘ave here?” The distinct Ala Mhigan accent gave Eclair worry. She knew that meant trouble for her if they found her. After all, they would be blood thirsty after their victory over the Castrum.

“Suppose i’s some sort o’ terminal. Nothin’ real interestin’ except to the commanders.” A second man, one who stepped a bit too close to the long file of drives Eclair was hiding behind. She held her breath.

[Complete]

“Eh? Looks like someone was in here not long ago. Not that I know much about these Garlean junkers. But they don’ just do shite on their own do they?”

“It’s a magitek terminal, o’ course they do you utter dodo. Come on, there ain’t nothin’ in here to kill.”

“All these science types have been borin’ anyways. No challenge.” The two men’s voices faded away beyond the doorway. Eclair finally took several deep breaths, her trembling fingers fumbling to help her stand. She obviously couldn’t just stay in the room…

She peaked beyond the doorway, her eyes widening in horror at the mass of bodies lining the halls. The Alliance was pulling the corpses of the science staff out for disposal, most likely. Distant explosions, screams, yells, so many things that mired her senses. The stench of the smoke that hung around was not just that of explosives, but of burning flesh as well. At least the flame traps had worked as intended, she supposed.  

The hall outside, besides the bodies, seemed relatively clear. Every now and again she would hear the distant footfalls of what surely must be Alliance or Resistance. She took a deep breath and stuck to the darker corridors, hoping to make it to any of the communication hubs deeper in the castrum. She knew the place intimately, and could surely outmaneuver any outsiders, who were likely to run into magitek sentries or other traps. She continued, ever alert, bound for the nearest safe room.

Meanwhile, none too far away, in the Ala Mhigan palace:

“Lord Zenos…” Aulus mal Asina appeared from behind the throne, removing his hand from the linkpearl at his ear.

“What is it, Aulus?” Zenos seemed preoccupied, his fingers dragging through the fabric at his waist.

“The mainframe has been breached..”

“What is the status?”

“She managed to delete it, my lord.”

“Good. Tis a shame that we will lose one of the few competent people we have, is it not?” Zenos’ voice remained ever the same. It was as if he was referring to a stranger and not someone who had helped the entirety of the aether and resonance projects.

“Most… unfortunate.” Aulus sounded more dejected than Zenos would have thought. Then again, he had always wished for the woman to follow him wherever he went. Perhaps he had found a kindred spirit, someone much like Zenos’ own Warrior of Light.

"Don't fret, Aulus. Should you perish, I'm sure you too will be promoted."

“My Lord.” Aulus’ voice wavered, “She asked if you intended to send rescue teams or units to assist the survivors here.”

“Hmm? Survivors... After the substantial losses in the fringes and the peaks, sparing the guard here would be most foolish, do you not agree, mal Asina? The Alliance will surely direct their forces upon Porta Praetoria next and set up their final charge against us. Castrum Abania is a lost cause.”

“... Very well, I shall relay that then, Lord Zenos.”

“Asina. Do also relay something else for me.” He peered up through darkened eyes, half-lidded, “I shall inform her little sister.”

“Yes, my lord.” Aulus found it hard to walk away without demanding his staff be given more respect than to leave them to die. Surely Zenos had known this was coming. Why else would the viceroy have recalled him so suddenly, and so conveniently?

He held his hand up to his ear, a sigh passing through his lips before he spoke.

“Eclair, Zenos has no intention of sending a search and rescue team. Nor does he intend to send even an escort for those escaping into the lochs. If you manage to find yourself through Porta Praetoria before the Alliance… you are faced with a invariably dangerous journey to the palace.”

“Aulus, I appreciate the concern… I will do my best to save those who are left in our team. I’ve seen things, terrible things, Aulus. I don’t know how many of us there are left, but I’ll open the gate to Porta Praetoria. If there is anyone left, I swear I will help them. I refuse to sit by and die.”

“I wish you luck, my… friend.” Aulus had never really had friends. If anyone were close enough to be called one, surely it would be his assistant of nearly a decade.

“Thank you, Aulus. If… if this is the last we ever speak, please take care of yourself. Don’t huff anymore of those spray chemicals, alright? They’re not good for you, you know.” She laughed before they exchanged their farewells over the linkpearl. If Zenos wouldn’t help, there was perhaps one more option she could try.

She keyed in a number that she had never had to call before, one she had been given only for an emergency.

“Your Radiance?”

“No, he is in a meeting at the moment. May I take a message for him?” The voice was one she recognized, but barely. Likely a scribe of some sort.

“No, is there any way you could call for him, for even a moment?”

“Absolutely not. The fact that you would even ask about such a thing- I will take a name and a mes-”

“No, I don’t believe it will matter by the time he’s out.” She ended the call before the other person could respond. Of course, in her last moments, she was being deflected by diplomacy.

Very well, if that was how it was going to be… She pulled her coat off, ridding herself of the useless weight. It held too little protection to be worth how much it weighed. She walked to the door, pressing her ear to the outside. Nothing. The shaft she had traveled down had been barren then. Though it was likely the alliance would come by the wing at any moment.

One last time on the terminal. She keyed out several numbers, connected to linkpearls. “Attention, this is lux E’vila. Is there anyone still out there?”

Silence…

“Once again, this is lux E’vila. Is there anyone still alive?”

The silence was deafening. There was no way she was the only one, was there? All of the people she had come to know, like a second family away from the capital. They were all…? That realization hit her like a mountain of bricks. Thank the twelve that Mory had stayed back home. She should have as well. She should have listened to Varis’ concerns, to Claudia’s. But she was too stubborn. She wanted so much to see the project to completion. And what had it done? Created a monster of a viceroy, killed far more than it aided, and for all of it… she was left to die by someone she considered family. How could he? She knew he wasn’t who he had been, but, to leave her there to die as if she were nothing.

A loud bang, and several more, shook the entire building. What exactly… no, a ram? To blast through the door leading to the final path to the Lochs, most likely. Had they already reached so far? She placed her hand against the pad of the door, and peered around the edge when it opened.

Alliance everywhere. How had she not heard them? Her eyes widened at the realization… the communications rooms were all sound padded. In her certainty that she could reach the outside, she had locked herself in a void, unable to hear just how dangerous the situation outside was becoming.

Loud voices came from right down the hall, and as she went to shut the door, all of the backup generators running the castrum finally died. Suddenly, she was lost in the pitch black. And just as quickly, she was unsure of how to progress from here. All of her peers were dead. The Alliance was breaking into the Lochs at that very instant. She shrank against the inside wall, her fingers trembling as she faced what was almost certainly the end. There were no survivors to the Alliance, not this time, at least. It was plain they were unforgiving, unwilling to even gaol the unarmed, opting to slay at will. Savages is what the Garleans called them. And, perhaps, Eclair agreed. For she had never seen a worse sight than that which she had quietly stepped through, holding in her cries of rage at the dead around her.

Despite all they had done in the resonance project, despite the experimentation - she had never meant to harm anyone. She hadn’t intended to. And she always worked to make sure the subjects were as comfortable as possible.

The voices came close, on just the other side of the wall. Eclair held her breath, choking back tears again. She reached into her pocket, pulling out a switchblade and releasing it to a prone position.

It was from there that everything seemed to slip from reality into a strange haze of action and consequence. She waited for the voices to go past the door, before trying to dart to the next hallway she could remember. The doors were locked. All of the doors would be inaccessible now, of course…

She let out a curse, perhaps a little too loudly. And found herself at the unfortunate end of a group of Alliance soldiers with the only exit past them.

“Well, what have we? A Garlean?” A light was shone on her face, causing her to squint.

“Hardly. I am blue and have pointed ears. Though I suppose I could pretend if you really wanted me to.”

“A traitor then? Even worse if you ask me.” A second soldier growled, already reaching for his weapon.

“You lot come barging in here, killing everyone. Not asking a single damn question. Killing unarmed people, killing people who were taken from their homes by war, killing people born to parents of annexed nations. Killing your own kin and blood just like the savages they say you are. Like they say WE are. And you’ve done naught but prove them right because you bastards slaughtered a castrum filled with mainly non-Garlean personnel. You killed the staff that was left when the Viceroy recalled the important purebloods back to Ala Mhigo.”

The soldiers glanced at each other through the dim light before drawing closer to her. The first glared at her, “So you are an Imperial then? You didn’t have to go spilling your guts like that.”

“Someone has to. Because, for some reason, your Alliance leaders have about as much wit between them as a spriggan. When they decide to raid the next castrum, maybe they can remember that there are people that never wanted to be there in the first place.”

“Traitor!” The soldier, a fellow elezen, lunged at her with his blade. She barely even tried to dodge it, taking the blade right through the viscera. Perhaps it was because she knew, even back in the mainframe, that this would be where she died. None of the staff had deserved their deaths. None.

“You’re right. I am a traitor, gladly. Because the best Eorzea had to offer me was beatings. And now you offer me what?” Blood soaked her clothing, spreading into her pants. A fast motion, unnerving in its silence, found Eclair’s switchblade in the throat of the soldier. He fell back onto the ground with a wet gargle. “Death?”

She stepped over the body, still with the blade through her abdomen. It seemed as if it phased her little at all. For some reason, the soldiers were backing away from her. Did she seem frightening for some reason?

The two others drew their blades, shakily. The woman’s eyes, was she one of those experiments like they saw in the bottom floors? Like the dead bodies that lay in mutilated heaps.

“What in the seven hells - kill her!” Even saying that, neither of the two were keen on lunging at the woman with a sword through her tip to hilt and eyes pink as a carnation. It was only when she finally stood within touching distance that they drove their blades into her multiple times. And yet, she took the hits without a sound, as if she were a phantom, unfeeling. A pool of blood formed under her, growing wider by the second.

“Ishgard… Gridania… all of Eorzea. A heap of garbage waiting for the incinerator. Just like my friends that you murdered.” Everything was suddenly quiet, when she had nearly pried one man’s head from his neck with the switchblade. The other ran, leaving his fallen comrades and his sword behind.

She walked back into the hallway she had come from. The swords hit the floor with a sharp rattling after she pulled them from her gut. It was strange, this new sensation. How was she still going? That should have surely killed her. And yet, her body felt more at ease than it ever had. For once, nothing hurt, her mind didn’t race. She had noticed, in smaller scale, that her wounds would heal much faster. That pulled muscles didn’t stay that way for long. But this was a totally different kind of resonance. Not at all like what Zenos or Mory had.

All at once, that feeling of euphoric calm left, and the shooting pain brought her to kneel. Had she run out of aether? It mattered little now. She had counted herself dead already, so what else was there to care about? She would be free. But that brought little comfort considering the shock her body was going through. Her instincts told her to fight. But there was no fighting this. Nothing left to aid herself with in the pitch black, surrounded by a legion’s worth of murderers.

There was only one regret. And as her eyes closed for the last time, she swore she heard Regula calling out to her.

[kaleraniel]

Whenever we write, it’s something we do together. We may not always actually talk, but we both contribute more or less equally (whether or not Terra actually notices it and doesn’t chalk it up to eir own thoughts ahaha) Anyway, thought we should make a list. Or rather, two lists. Fics in progress, and fics we haven’t started but want to.

In progress, in order of current motivation to finish (kind of)– *“"sequel”“ to fake dating au. Just need to add some stuff (maybe up to 1k? We can’t shut up about these two and their healthy communication I mean talk about goals, right) and tweak the characterization to fit the established au. Motivated by time, mostly. Hope to get it up by Valentine’s Day. *gym au where it’s gay and such a pity Javert’s has prosopagnosia and always distracted by Valjean’s arms, and how Valjean’s never seen Javert out of uniform and doesn’t recognize him in workout clothes and is ever so distracted by his runners calves. Absolutely tragic. *dw doctor/TARDIS fic. I think I’m into that a lot because of that symbiotic relationship. I’m always about symbiotic relationships, probably given my own nature, haha *dæmon au, because that’s always important. Won’t be finished anytime soon. *magic au, because it’s almost done and why not? *leverage ot3 fic, since we don’t expect that to be too long, and also I mean it’s leverage so that’s always good. *phone call perceived unrequited perfectworldshipping fic, since we still think that’s really good and just the right amount of angst that is satisfying as hell. At least for us to read. That bittersweet kind of thing, where they’re just a hair’s breadth too late, they miss each other by just a second, if they had only reached out sooner but it was never the right time. Both of us love that shit so much. Kind of wary of posting two 5+1 fics so close together though. *Vampire!Javert, even though we’re undecided what direction to take that one right now. We have up to the bridge, but we can take it to the potentially nsfw direction or somewhere else that’s sfw. *self indulgent fic, since it’s self indulgent. Also at a standstill since we lost so much of it. Might not ever post because it’s fairly personal with the amount we project our own struggles with depression onto Javert. *sad fic, because that seems short. It’s hard to write. Haven’t been struck with that inspiration where the words come with that yet. Terra wants to write that more than I do, out of some kind of desperation to prove we can do something other than sickening fluff we can hardly bare to edit lol. There’s no rush. We have two modes: sickening fluff that apparently makes people scream and/or laugh out loud (which is? Unexpected? That funny stuff is fun to write but we never expected it to be as much fun to read), or angst fic that will break you. Absolutely no in between. *the other sad fic, which is also really personal, but it’s also half informative so somehow the part of us who loved to educate overtakes the anxious part of us hahaha. That fic requires an actual map so we can get things in order, and more research than we’re willing to put in at the moment. So, standstill. We know exactly where we want to go with it though. Probably the fic we actually use words to talk to each other about the most. Usually it’s just feelings, melding together in that writing zone to where we are really one with each other and not separated at all. That can be fun too, but I like talking. *the one where Javert is a ghost. We have the beginning, but Terra’s more interested in how Javert works and functions as a ghost rather than actual plot and I’m stuck on what to do so it’s at a standstill. *wolves fic, because that’s such a good quote we can’t not use it. Don’t know where we’re quite going with it exactly. Have a vague idea but nothing solid. *Vegas au, requires casefic which means a case and we aren’t quite sure how to handle that yet. Of course, because it revolves around casefic, we can’t do much with it yet but we have the first scene written out that probably will need redoing at a later date but whatever. It’s Vegas. *butter for lube. I hate Terra for this. So much. *touchfic, requires massive reworking. It’s 25k. Like half of that is going to have to be rewritten entirely or cut and that’s going to take so much time and effort. Totally know where we’re going, it’s just how to get there that’s the issue. *3rd person POV fic. Know what we’re doing, just not sure how to make it into a good fic. Also we keep getting distracted by OCs, so large sections of that are going to have to be cut or at least severely minimized. Those are just the things we have actual parts written, not just outlined.

To write, in no particular order– *REVERSE GROUNDHOG. We’ve been wanting to write this for literally years. And we have about 80% of it planned to a T in our brain. We just. Need to write it. And figure out that last 20%. *werewolf Valjean, for obvious reasons. There’s never enough supernatural (not the show, although the influence is most definitely there) AUs nor creature!aus *superhero AU, fight us okay *coffeeshop au #3, where jvj is a crime novel author and lowkey uses the cases Javert mutters about in his books that Javert’s a closet fan of. Idea half stolen from Paper Monsters, a cherik fic. *olive garden au aka coffee shop au #1, which Terra promised Stephanie like four years ago *Coffeeshop au #2, which is so similar to the Australian au that we might scrap it, or just write it for our own enjoyment and never post. *the one we call Mercy, with swensonvert and raminjean, which is decidedly nsfw and will go to the Shame Account. *buddy cop AU inspired by… oh what’s that movie. With the two lady leads. It’s kind of recent and super good. *leverage au with the Les Mis faves, of course. I wish we had more straight up Leverage ideas, because that’s such a good show. We yell at each other about it so much. *ink on skin soulmate au because we love soulmate AUs. *dw dæmon au where humans are the only species who have dæmons and the Doctor is absolutely fascinated by this. Thought of this yesterday, so it’s pretty new. *the one where the main pairing is Javert/Seine with lots of suicidal ideation. *Toulon nsfw fic. We don’t know how to introduce the nsfw aspect, honestly. And our Jean le cric isn’t canon characterized and it bothers me. Terra says run with it, "because fuck it it’s fanfiction,” but it bugs me. Technically, it’s partly written, but it bugs me so much I’m not counting that. *TiMER soulmate au. That one’s interesting because it plays off the idea of people evolving and growing, how the person that’s “perfectly comparable with you” may meet you earlier on (and at that point, you are good with them) but their timer doesn’t stop then. Javert’s timer resets and resets to the point where he thinks it’s faulty and Valjean’s remains constant, only skipping around near the barricades because Javert himself is fluctuating then too. Anyway that’s a lot of fun but requires a lot of looking things up in the brick and referencing the Les Mis timeline often. *music au, because we love those too, and although we collaborated with Star on the one we did for the Big Bang, we’re still not satisfied because it doesn’t /exactly/ match up with the one we constructed in our head. It’s good and we enjoy it immensely, but it doesn’t scratch the itch. If we end up rewriting it with the same plot points and stuff, we won’t post it. Might change it up, making Valjean a solo piano or luthier, but always secret composer Madeleine and always concert master Javert. *coffeeshop au #4, where they keep meeting on accident during rush and leave post its on each other’s coffee and only know each other by their coffee names. Occasionally they talk in line but it’s just a meet-cute honestly. We don’t expect this to be long, just a cute little idea. Javert always freaks out with the reveal and makes things longer and harder though, even when we expect that of him. *possibly doctor/surgeon!Javert and Valjean always coming to the ER because of shit he gets himself into by performing mostly selfish actions. Javert has beef with him for some reason. Maybe mugged him when he was a student of important things that held him back, or otherwise heavily inconvenienced him and he pressed charges, of course. *lowkey artist Valjean, who is really good but doesn’t think he is. Don’t know if this should be modern or canon era. Inspired by a friend who has Valjean hair we met at fiddle camp. He’s very good and does both realistic and caricatures that really capture people and that’s such a Valjean thing. *white collar inspired fic, half planned out. Valjean as an art thief and Javert as his pursuer. When Javert puts him away the first time, Valjean’s just gotten in with bad people. He changes when he gets out. His motives change to be more Leverage-like, and it becomes almost a game of cat and mouse. In his forgeries he starts writing stuff to leave Javert, little post it notes on the wall where a painting used to be, etc. Javert is confused but honestly missed chasing Valjean. Then after one incident where Valjean handcuffs Javert to something and leaves him there after banter/lowkey flirting, he leaves these files proving how corrupt the people he’s robbing are, as well as proof that the paintings get returned to a good place or the money from the sale goes to a good cause with only a little bit missing to pay for Valjean’s own humble life. Javert starts doubting. Valjean sees him on the bridge, paints him, then breaks into Javert’s house to hang it (and also buys him food because Jesus your fridge is barren, must feed you). It’s even signed with his real name and painted in his own style. Javert is kind of touched, even if he’s pissed off that Valjean could break into his apartment so easily (he changes his locks and only gets halfway through the milk before it goes bad. There’s a reason he doesn’t keep much food. It’s because he’s never home to eat it). Then, when Cosette is in danger, Valjean panics and doesn’t know who to go too except Javert. Javert comes home one day to Valjean pacing in his front room (and is annoyed he broke in /again/, why can’t he ring the doorbell like a normal– he doesn’t know why he could even thing of Valjean as normal and then thinks he should be more angry a know criminal is in his home and somehow looks like he belongs there). And then minor casefic- Javert helps him in exchange for his freedom. After, Javert manages to get Valjean as a consultant with an ankle bracelet thing a la white collar because damn it, he’s definitely gone for him. The first time Javert visits Valjean’s house he’s annoyed because Valjean has an original Monet hanging in Cosette’s room, which means the one they think is real is actually a forgery. That’s been developing in our brain for a long time too. We should just write it already. *TWEWY au, where Valjean ends up dying the same week as Javert. It’s a normal Game, of course. Unsure if we should have Reaper!Javert or not. Still working out the logistics of that. Who should be Conductor, Game Master, other reapers. Composer, even. *modern au where Javert’s a cop and keeps pulling over former criminal Valjean who’s now a successful and well know businessman. They end up making out against the side of Javert’s cruiser after many cop-based innuendos. Valjean’s license plate has 24601 in it, obviously. *original!weird friends AU. Featuring Grantaire/Javert friendship that neither will admit is friendship, born of over a year of arresting Grantaire for being drunk in public and various other minor crimes and watching him in the drunktank. They talk about being mentally ill, so bipolar lithro Grantaire and prosopagnosia lowkey depressed Javert. They talk about Grantaire’s unrequited crush that’s both ideal and hell for him, and teases Javert relentlessly about his not so lowkey crush on Valjean. Probably Grantaire POV. Grantaire crashes his car/motorcycle through Valjean’s shopfront window, and Grantaire just has him call Javert, totally unknowing that this is the guy Javert’s crushing hard on and has to deal with that awkward mess while very drunk and very manic. Possibly recognizes Valjean as Cosette’s dad, idk. Arranges for them to meet up very sneakily, because they’re not friends and this is just to make Javert shut up about this guy, yes totally, not to make him happy or anything. Shut up. They’re not friends. (Wow that was almost entirely Terra there. It’s late. We’re tired and not used to separation.) *AU!weird friends au where everything is the same as the above au except Grantaire has a vine account (Vine will be mourned). Obviously set when Vine was still alive and well. Consists mainly of Grantaire filming Javert while mentioning Valjean and watching as Javert attempts to be chill but is totally /not/. May involve him dropping massive amounts of paperwork, or spilling boiling hot coffee on himself. Definitely features him threatening Grantaire with arrest, not like that phases Grantaire anymore. Cosette sees his vines, mostly the one where Javert actually sees Valjean and walks straight into a street sign or trips over a parked car or something, and recognizes “oh my god that’s my dad”. They gleefully try to get them together and Grantaire’s vines consist of them actually meeting and Javert crushing harder than a 12 year old girl and Valjean’s being absolutely smitten with him. Probably told strictly through social media and video descriptions? It would be fun to try that since the texting was so fun in fake dating. Grantaire’s name is drunktank420 and you can’t stop me. *Canon era transman Javert. Can’t stop us. It’s ideal. …there’s more, because there’s always more. We are always thinking of fic. Anything cute or neat that happens in real life you can bet one of us latches onto it and an AU is born right there. It’s 5am we should sleep. Fic is too much fun for the both of us, which is why I completely endorse it. I would love to explore Valjean’s PTSD and anxiety more and having Javert learn how to calm him down or see the signs to remove him from his stressors. Also, obviously, Javert’s depression, suicidal ideation, and recovering from his suicide attempt. And his prosopagnosia, ADHD-ness, and his dyslexia in more detail. I put bits of it in almost everything but we want to examine it more.