#will post on ao3 later if I write more

[teaandjumpers]

Obikin Clueless AU (WIP Wednesday)

“Blast,” said Obi-Wan as he stared down at the three ties laid out on his bed. 

Apart from some minor differences in color and texture, they all looked interchangeable to him. It was not something he should be fixating on, not with the signing a mere two hours away. 

A sharp knock pulled him from his thoughts, and he turned towards the sound to find Anakin leaning against the door frame. He was dressed for the occasion in flared high-waisted trousers, a semi-sheer ivory lace button down, and black loafers with no socks.

He looked more like a model from a high-end fashion magazine than the teenager who used to fly drones outside their home, repeatedly crashing them into Obi-Wan’s car, much to the younger man’s amusement.  

“What are you doing here?” asked Obi-Wan, surprised to see his step-brother back home from school, especially on this day. 

It wasn’t that Anakin didn’t support Obi-Wan’s appointment as managing partner of Qui-Gonn’s firm. In fact, he pushed for it more than anyone, grateful that the mantle wouldn’t pass to him, not having the patience for law and the often slow and tactful art of persuasion. 

The young man had found his passion in engineering, and with an Ivy League degree and a trust fund that had made Obi-Wan choke on a swig of Scotch upon hearing the size of it, Anakin could fund any project he wanted. Or he could do absolutely nothing for the rest of his life and fund other people’s projects, living in the type of splendor that was usually only seen in swanky Hollywood movies. 

But Anakin didn’t like to be idle. It was one of the things Obi-Wan admired about the boy—no, man. At twenty-five, Anakin was very much a man now, and he looked it, too, the way his chest had filled out, the way those long thighs broadened, the way his eyes smoldered, always looking like he was about to take the runway, strike a pose and glare. 

Obi-Wan used to tease him about it, saying things like, “I heard they’re hiring live models for the Versace window display, darling. You should look into it.” 

It would, of course, make Anakin glower even more, prompting the younger man to chase Obi-Wan around the many rooms of their mansion, ready to smother him with a pillow. 

Those were simpler times—before the moment. Before that night in the living room when Obi-Wan was sorting through depositions and Anakin, being the brat that he was, had plopped onto the couch, turned on wrestling, and started chewing on Pringles—loudly. 

“Do you mind,” Obi-Wan had asked, grabbing the remote out from under Anakin and turning off the television. 

“Actually, I do,” said Anakin, attempting to snatch the remote back but failing. “You can work anywhere, Obi-Wan,” he whined. 

“I’m certain you have two televisions in your room, Anakin,” Obi-Wan said, holding the remote out of reach behind him. “And one in your bathroom.”

“Yeah, but this is the only room with a TV and a fireplace,” said Anakin, rising to his knees on the couch, attempting to use his height to snatch the remote. 

With one hand pressed firmly against the younger man’s chest, Obi-Wan managed to keep Anakin at bay. 

“You’re such a spoiled brat,” he said, looking up at Anakin with disbelief.  

“Well, you took the only other room with a fireplace, and you don’t believe in having televisions in the bedroom,” Anakin said, mimicking Obi-Wan’s accent.

Distracted by Anakin’s ridiculous attempt at mocking him, Obi-Wan was caught off guard when Anakin lunged at him and pulled the remote from his hand. 

“Ha,” the younger man said triumphantly, turning the television back on. 

On any other day, Obi-Wan would have left it. Would have left the room, let Anakin win, because Anakin almost never gave up on something once he set his sights on it, whether it was a person or getting his way on movie night. 

But that night, Obi-Wan was frustrated—they were falling behind on work, and Anakin, newly graduated from high school, had too much energy. He’d been bouncing through the house all day, and when Obi-Wan finally settled down in a space that Anakin had already torn through, he thought he was safe. 

Not so. And so Anakin, who had already turned his wrestling show back back on, who was reaching for the cylinder of Pringles that had rolled under the couch, didn’t expect Obi-Wan to grab him from behind, didn’t expect his step-brother to hook his arms beneath his armpits, locking the younger man’s arms up in a tight hold. 

Anakin grunted and tried to shake his way out of Obi-Wan’s hold, but it was no use. 

“You forget, I was captain of the wrestling team in college,” said Obi-Wan, huffing the words against the tousled mess that was Anakin’s hair. 

“Community college,” snorted Anakin, and that earned him a sharp tug of the arms, one that brought his body closer to Obi-Wan’s, making it so that Anakin was sitting on Obi-Wan’s lap, squirming in the older man’s lap, and then panting as his movements stilled, as he slid farther into Obi-Wan’s space until his back was pressed up against the other man. 

Neither of them spoke. Neither of them moved, save for the slow heaving of their chests and the soft shuddering breaths coming from Anakin. The fire crackled in the background and cheers sounded from the television, but Anakin stayed perched atop Obi-Wan, and Obi-Wan held him there, the young man’s arms still suspended above his head. 

“They call this the Master Lock,” said Obi-Wan softly, relishing the clenching of Anakin’s jaw and the haughty but quiet “I know” that fell from his lips.

At least a full minute passed before Obi-Wan released his hold. Once free, he assumed Anakin would wrench his body away from him, ready to take up the fight again, but Anakin didn’t move. Or at least he didn’t move away. He turned his head, presenting his profile to Obi-Wan. His eyes were downcast, and it made the heavy line of his lashes even more pronounced. Anakin swallowed, and Obi-Wan tracked the slow path of the movement down Anakin’s throat. 

And then Anakin shifted. It was minute, nearly imperceptible, but Obi-Wan most certainly felt it, sitting so still beneath his legal but still very young step-brother. It was a slow rock of Anakin’s hips, not even a rock, but a slight pivot, the weight of Anakin’s hips pressing down then sliding back.

At first, Obi-Wan thought that maybe Anakin was trying to get up, get some momentum before sliding off of him, but then it happened again, the press of Anakin’s cheeks against his thighs and then he was shifting back, sliding closer and closer to his groin. When it happened one more time, the slow grind paired now with a low moan that slipped from Anakin’s pink, parted lips, Obi-Wan shot up from his seat and upended Anakin, too afraid to look back as he fled to his room. 

Obi-Wan had been careful to give Anakin a wide berth since then, not wanting to examine the very un-familial emotions that had coursed through him when he had Anakin on his lap. 

It wasn’t like they were actually brothers. Not by blood at least. But it was still frowned upon, and the other partners at the firm would undoubtedly reconsider appointing Obi-Wan their new managing partner if they knew there was anything untoward going on between him and his step-brother, the current managing partner’s son. 

“I thought you were still in Seville—living it up with Padme,” said Obi-Wan, softening his tone. He felt he might have been a bit too harsh to the younger man when he asked him what he was doing here. 

“I was,” said Anakin, approaching Obi-Wan’s bed and examining the ties alongside the other man. “But I couldn’t miss your big day,” he said, poking Obi-Wan with an elbow.

Obi-Wan glanced at Anakin’s profile. He was tanned, even more so than usual, and, dear god, he looked beautiful. His lashes were dark and his lips extra pouty, as if he had applied some kind of plumper to it. He really should have been a model, he thought, shaking the words away as quickly as they came.

“Perhaps you can help me pick out a tie for the event?” he asked. “Satine sent them, but they look identical to me.”

“Still letting your ex dress you, Obi-Wan?” Anakin teased as he leaned forward to examine the ties more closely. He turned his nose up at each option, then looked up at Obi-Wan, assessing his wardrobe. 

He eyed the dark blue pleated trousers and the fitted white dress shirt, the one Obi-Wan worried he was now sweating through. Anakin stepped closer, a mere foot separating them now. He brought a hand to Obi-Wan’s throat and undid one of the buttons of his collar. He pulled back to consider his work and unbuttoned one more. 

“No tie,” said Anakin with finality. 

“Did I miss that year where you minored in public relations?”

“Satine knows the press, but I know clothes,” said Anakin, unnecessarily readjusting Obi-Wan’s collar. “The partners chose you because they want someone practical to take over—someone pragmatic who’s not fussy. A tie is fussy.”

“And here I thought they chose me because I’ve only had three losses in my fifteen years of practice.”

“We’re all very impressed,” said Anakin, sarcastic. He smoothed out the nonexistent lines at the front of Obi-Wan’s shirt. Also unnecessary, thought Obi-Wan. 

When Anakin seemed satisfied with his efforts, he pulled away, turning towards the door. But he paused for a moment and turned back, biting his bottom lip before approaching Obi-Wan.

“I’m really proud of you, Obi-Wan,” he said, uncharacteristically sincere. 

It made Obi-Wan blink back at him in surprise, but what surprised him even more was when Anakin leaned in close and, after hesitating for a moment, gripped the thickest part of Obi-Wan’s arm and pressed a soft kiss on Obi-Wan’s cheek. 

When Anakin pulled away, his own cheeks were pink, and he glanced at Obi-Wan shyly. 

“You’re gonna be great,” Anakin said, and then he left Obi-Wan on his own, hours away from achieving one of his life-long goals.

Only now, all he would be able to think about was Anakin—Anakin and his impossibly long legs, Anakin and that obscene sheer shirt and the golden warm expanse of skin beneath it, Anakin and those eyes, those eyes that still grew dark when they skirted over Obi-Wan’s shoulders. Anakin and his soft, petal pink lips that were just moments ago pressed against the line where his beard met his cheek. 

Fuck. He was definitely sweating through his shirt now.

- - - -

(Anakin’s outfit)

[i-dare-say]

Shixiong!Shen Yuan AU

Shen Yuan has been living in the PIDW world since birth but doesn't remember anything about his previous life. He manages to enter Cang Qiong Mountain Sect and become a disciple of Qing Jing Peak, until he's fourteen and a sparring head injury causes his memories to return all in one go. Now that his memories are back the System is also activated.

He finds out he's been reincarnated into a no-name cannon fodder character (the name is the same because what originality do you expect from PIDW?) and the System informs him that he now has to enhance the story's quality while also ensuring the protagonist's satisfaction.

Shen Yuan is already pretty done with all of this. Whatever he does is sure to lead to his death. It's either the system kills him because his points reach 0 or the protagonist kills him later because he stood by while he was bullied/didn't help him enough to not get bullied.

And now Shen Yuan's brain has been flooded with all this information about the world and, worse, about people he's known for some time now.

His sweet Ning-shimei is fated to become a character trope he despises, a simple damsel in distress only there so the protagonist can show his strength by saving her over and over again.

Ming-shidi has always been most respectful towards him, and now he discovers that he's at the front of the pack of disciples that bully Luo Binghe.

And his shizun...

Shen Yuan has never really known much about his shizun. His tea ceremony had seemed as normal as it could be (Shen Qingqiu had asked him a lot of questions about his past, but that's expected since they do have the same surname. Still, nothing came out of that), and for the four years since he's been a disciple his shizun had seemed like an admirable immortal master, cold and strict, but competent and intelligent. Shen Yuan did admire him. At least, until his memories come back.

Now he has knowledge of what Shen Qingqiu will do (maybe has already done, since Shen Yuan is not sure whether Luo Binghe is already on the peak) to the protagonist, and of all the crimes against the other characters. He's a poser, hiding a scummy personality behind his aloof persona.

Shen Yuan is not happy to know all of this. But he's almost glad to remember his old life because it doesn't feel weird when he wholeheartedly thinks: Fuck.

First of all, he has to find out if Luo Binghe's already a disciple.

The shijie he was sparring with is now taking him to Qian Cao to be checked so he asks her about Luo Binghe. She doesn't know, so as soon as he's clear to get back to Qing Jing he goes straight to Ming Fan.

Ming Fan is practicing guqin playing with some friends (Shen Yuan suspects these are the other bullies) and is having trouble with a particular movement, so Shen Yuan helps him by guiding his fingers. Once he's satisfied his shidi has learnt what to do and sees the others not paying them attention, he lowers his voice and asks Ming Fan about Luo Binghe.

It's clear the boy knows what he's talking about. Ming Fan is curious about the reason for his question and warns him that Luo Binghe is nothing but trouble, that their shizun's already had to punish him for his misbehaviors. Shen Yuan thanks him for the advice and takes off towards the woodshed.

Luo Binghe is not there, but he will come back sooner or later. So he decides to wait and prepare for the future.

The first step of his plan now is to get stronger. Enough for Shen Yuan to be able to protect Luo Binghe from the other disciples. He'll take on the mantel of older brother figure, someone who helps the protagonist in the beginning of the story while he's too weak to do it properly. Then, once Luo Binghe finds his way and becomes the all powerful demon lord he's destined to be, Shen Yuan will try his best to convince him not to raze Cang Qiong to the ground.

He doesn't have much hope of that though. After all, he's just a no-name cannon fodder. But at least he can help Luo Binghe right now, while he has the power to do so. To make these bitter years a little more bearable. And that future is so far away, he has time to think about what to do and plan accordingly.

While thinking this, he falls asleep against the wall of the woodshed.

He's awakened by someone touching his shoulder. He snaps his eyes open, shaken, but he soon adjusts to the darkness enough to see the person in front of him.

Luo Binghe is certainly different from what he imagines the future emperor of all three realms to look like. But this is white lotus Luo Binghe, and in his very first years as a disciple at that. His cheeks are round, height much shorter than Shen Yuan's. And yet there's already the countenance of the stallion protagonist in him, a sort of aura that makes him shine in the dark, an intensity to his gaze as he worriedly looks at Shen Yuan.

Shen Yuan can't help but smile and say "Binghe".

Luo Binghe looks shocked. He hesitantly asks if shixiong is well, that it's very late and that the curfew has already started.

Shen Yuan finally realizes the late hour, but he doesn't mind the curfew. It wouldn't be the first time he has to sneak in in the dorms, and it certainly won't be the last. He stares at Luo Binghe, who nervously tries not to fidget under his gaze, and comes to a decision.

He won't have to sleep in there. Not anymore. Not as long as Shen Yuan has a say in it. "Come with me."

He takes Binghe's hand and heads for the disciple dorms. Luo Binghe follows silently, until he stops and says: "Shixiong should rest first. He can punish this one tomorrow."

Shen Yuan is horrified at the prospect of being thrown in the same group as Luo Binghe's bullies. He doesn't want to be at the other end of the protagonist's blade!

"I'm not here to punish you," he says, but Binghe is not convinced. Well, what did Shen Yuan expect? Apart from his own adoptive mother and Ning Yingying, everyone else had always treated Luo Binghe with indifference or contempt. Of course he expected a punishment.

Shen Yuan kneels in front of him and Binghe is once again shocked.

"I know we don't really know each other so this must seem strange to you. But I do want to. I mean, I do want to know you."

Shen Yuan is so embarrassed to be saying these things. But this is all to gain the protagonist's trust! So he'll have to swallow his shame and be a little truthful for once.

"I…your shixiong sometimes has…nightmares. And sleeping with someone else in the room helps. Can you indulge me a little bit for tonight?"

Luo Binghe has been staring at him with awe. He squeezes Shen Yuan's hand and replies: "This Binghe would be honored to help shixiong with his nightmares. But, shizun said I must sleep in the woodshed. I don't want shizun to get angry with you because of me."

"Shizun won't know about it." And even if he did, Shen Yuan is ready to take the blame on himself. Shen Qingqiu's punishments would be nothing to the protagonist's unique brand of torture. "This shixiong promises that from now on, Binghe won't have to sleep in there. Do you trust me?"

Luo Binghe nods. So Shen Yuan takes him to the dorms and they sneak in through the open window. His room is for one person only, so they have to share Shen Yuan's bed.

Binghe insists on sleeping on the floor, says he really doesn't mind, he has no problem falling asleep on the ground. But Shen Yuan yanks him on the bed and forces him to lay down. Since both of their bodies are on the smaller side they end up fitting in just fine.

Shen Yuan falls asleep almost immediately, exhausted despite the small nap he had before. And Luo Binghe stares at him, at this shixiong who he knew of but never really interacted with, who he's seen being kind and welcoming to other disciples around the sect, who suddenly reached out to Binghe and took him in his room without a moment's hesitation.

Luo Binghe doesn't trust that this kindness will be directed towards him for much longer, but he likes the way Shen-shixiong looks at him. So he'll treasure it as long as he can.

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

So this is the beginning of my Shixiong! Shen Yuan fic. I was curious as to what would happen if Shen Yuan ended up in the same position as Shang Qinghua, what kind of consequences being born in the PIDW world would have on him.

As this is my first ever fanfic I just wanted to write something short, just a simple AU where Shen Yuan is free to dote on Luo Binghe and he doesn't have to worry that he's going to be murdered because he has the role of "Shen Qingqiu".

And then I started to think more about the implications of the premise I made up. Shen Yuan is fourteen. Yes, now he has memories of his previous life, but his mind is still that of a fourteen-year-old. That would be interesting to explore, I thought.

And what if Shen Yuan is more gifted that he thinks, I asked myself. What if Shen Qingqiu recognised that at the tea ceremony and, just like Binghe, inquired about his past. But, unlike Binghe, Shen Yuan's past is much more in line with Shen Qingqiu's, which brings the man to leave him be.

And what if, once Shen Yuan remembers and starts becoming stronger and protecting Luo Binghe, Shen Qingqiu's attention doesn't fall on Luo Binghe but Shen Yuan?

And just what happened in Shen Yuan's past, exactly? Because he sure as hell doesn't think about it or his feelings involving any of it.

I just really wanted to explore all of these questions. So I guess this is gonna be longer than I expected. To be honest I'm just really happy to be writing again, scum villain really is such a great inspiration for storytelling.

[hectorthedoggo]

i made a litte haruka t3 vd based off of an earlier convo w @kani-miso and @chairhahaha that one time (if you guys remember that)

Broken Wings

*The interrogation starts, and Haruka is breathing heavily, shifting around in his seat. It can be interpreted as a panic attack, or some sort of crying.

*The door opens, and the warden doesn’t speak for a bit.

E: Prisoner Number 1. We cannot begin the interrogation when you’re in such a state.

*Haruka’s voice sounds broken, like he’s cried a lot over the past few minutes.

H: Warden… hey, why did you vote Mu guilty? Even though I promised that…

E: You cannot influence our verdict in such a way. We found it fit to deem her guilty, therefore your opinion is invalid.

H: Huh? I don’t… but, i have to, I have to follow through on my promise. I couldn’t do it earlier, because of the guilty restraints.

E: No.

H: Huh? What do you mean?

E: Milgram won’t permit it, I’m sure. Fights between prisoners are prohibited as long as the warden is awake, so you’ve lost your window of opportunity.

H: I don’t… understand.

E: You aren’t allowed to kill yourself, idiot.

H: Hehe… hihihi! Well, you can’t push me around! I have…

*a rustling sound is heard, and the warden gasps

E: Scissors? Where…

H: The supply closet! I can kill myself, you can’t stop me!

E: No! You’re not allowed!

H: I’ll do it now! You’re too weak to stop me.

*Sounds of a struggle, and E keeps making pained noises. Eventually, a clattering noise is heard, and the sound of the barrier rings out.

*They sound physically in pain, speech occasionally interrupted by small gasps of pain.

E: Ow… hah. Haruka. You can’t take the scissors. We have them now. You’re not getting them back. Hm… I wonder if I could ask Milgram to take the supply closet… it’s such a bother.

*H sounds pained.

H: Warden! You have to understand! I made a promise, I have to follow through! Besides…

E: …

H: Besides, the voices tell me that I don’t deserve to live. That I’m too crazy for society, because I killed all of those animals. I was right, earlier. There’s no way that my true self will ever be forgiven.

I'm so tired of this constant talking, they’re right. And… Mahiru didn't deserve to die.. it should've been me.. i should join her, to fulfill my promise.

E: ! Ma…hiru…

* their voice sounds a little surprised, almost like they’ve been struck.

H: It’s hard, without her. She was so nice. I want to join her, and me being here doesn’t help anything. Everyone would be happier if I died.

E: Don’t… don’t…

H: Are you okay? I… I understand!

*A small rustling is heard

*their breathing is heavy

E: Get off… get off of me. Don’t hug me like that, it won’t work. I’m not going to-

H: It’s not for that! Hugs mean to make everything feel better! It’s a goodbye hug. Mahiru always said-

E: Shut up!

*They hit Haruka, but that’s not enough for them. They tackle him, in what is most definitely not a hug, and starts to pathetically beat him up.

H: Ow! Why are you-

E: I hate people like you! First, it was Shidou, now you, stupidly sacrificial, having no regard for the other’s emotions! Don’t you dare insult Mah- no, we’re not… we’re not supposed to… we just hate you. We, the warden, need no justification for beating up rowdy prisoners.

*Haruka makes little noises of pain, matching E’s.

*Suddenly, the door opens.

Kz: Hey! Hey! What’s going on here. Es, get off.

*A little struggle is heard, but Kazui quickly gets them off of their victim.

E: Kazui… why… no, you’re too much of a coward to go into the room yourself. Who sent you?

Kz: I’m not saying. Es, why were you-

E: It was Kotoko, wasn’t it? Guilty verdict wasn’t enough to get her off her high horse? Heh, i wonder why they decided to vote you innocent, if you keep interfering like this.

K: !

E: You stupid prisoners. Always interfering. What we do is not your business.

Haruka: Es…

E: We aren’t Es. K: ! What?!

H: W… what? Then, who are you?

E: The warden. Of MILGRAM. We don’t need a name, Es is simply a label.

K: like… amane-chan… but worse

E: What was that? (rhetorical)

H : He said you’re like Amane, but worse.

E: Shut up, the both of you ! Milgram is much nobler than a group of cartoon characters with a bunch of philosophies attached to them! What Milgram is doing, is fully, absolutely, right. Of course it would be! Otherwise, well…

It would be…

*they lose their spark

I wouldn’t be…

*awkward silence

No, no. what milgram is doing has to be right. Otherwise, I would…

*their voice breaks at the end. they slap themself.

Stop that. No. Anyways, Kazui, please get out of the room. I apologize for my earlier outburst. I will not resort to such violence, again. Haruka. Do not touch me.

K: As long as you promise to not attack Haruka.

E: As long as Haruka doesn’t touch me again.

H: I… I won’t?

E: Alright. Kazui. Leave.

K: If I hear more struggle-

E: Leave.

K: Okay.

* He leaves.

E: Ah… what are we supposed to do with you… 

*The bell rings

ack!

H: Are you alright?

E: Shut up… shut up… you all aren’t supposed to… I thought you-

H: ?

E: Shut up!

* They start to breathe heavily.

H: Is it… the…

E: That’s none of your business! I… we don’t have the same problems as you prisoners- ack!

H: … um… Warden?

E: Shut up!

H: Okay…

E: I- I- get it! Okay!

H: Um, sorry. Who are you talking to?

E: That’s… none of your business. Let’s just get this overwith, I- we can’t be doing this right now.

Now, prisoner number one, sing your sins!

[neallo]

Near’s control room is dim. Darker than it was before. It takes Mello a moment to realize that it’s because the monitors are off— the only light is from the overhead fluorescents. It’s an ugly glow.

Near himself is crouched on the floor, like he was earlier, except he’s facing Mello this time. He knows better than to turn his back when they’re alone.

“Mello,” he says in that maddening tone, flat as fuck yet somehow taunting, the slightest lilt shining through. “Welcome back.”

“Near,” Mello returns. It sounds less hostile in the air than it feels on his tongue.

The space around them goes silent for a few beats, then. Neither of them move, blink. Mello loses his patience first. He always does.

“So?” He shifts his weight from one foot to the other. Brushes his wrist against the handle of his gun, just to remind himself that it’s there. “What the hell do you want?”

Near smirks. “Who said I wanted anything but your company?” He twirls a strand of hair around his finger. The gesture is so familiar that it makes Mello’s chest ache. “Perhaps I wished to spend time with an old friend. It’s been a long while, hasn’t it?”

Mello scoffs. “Oh, is that what we are?”

A tilt of Near’s head. His smile skews, bafflingly, a bit more genuine. Bizarre little bastard.

“Isn’t it?”

[catguangcorner]

omg 2222 fics in the sgdlr tag what a nice number :O

[fortune-maiden]

Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: 魔道祖师 - 墨香铜臭 | Módào Zǔshī - Mòxiāng Tóngxiù, 陈情��� | The Untamed (TV) Rating: General Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Lan Zhan | Lan Wangji/Wei Ying | Wei Wuxian Characters: Wei Ying | Wei Wuxian, Lan Zhan | Lan Wangji, Jiang Cheng | Jiang Wanyin, Jin Zixuan, Jiang Yanli, Nie Huaisang, Meng Yao | Jin Guangyao, Lan Huan | Lan Xichen, Nie Mingjue Additional Tags: Crack, Humor, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Set vaguely during the phoenix mountain hunt, just don't think about the timeline or canon at all, this is just me having some silly fun, Shapeshifters - Freeform, Dopplegangers, Phoenix Mountain Night Hunt Competition (Modao Zushi), Inspired by Dungeon Meshi's shapeshifter episode, Hijinks & Shenanigans, frankencanon

Summary:

“I’ve already figured it all out, but I’m not going to be a peacock about it,” the fourth Wei Wuxian said with a wide grin, which in the real one's opinion should have immediately outed him as a fake (he was not that provocative!), but the Jiang Chengs, the Jiang Yanlis, the Nie Huaisangs, the Lan Wangjis, and Jin Zixuan all shared a look.

Or, in which the Phoenix Mountain Hunt gets even more chaotic when someone sets a several-thousand-year-old fox demon loose.

It's going to be a long afternoon...

(Inspired by Dungeon Meshi)

-

SO ABOUT THOSE DUNGEON MESHI SHAPESHIFTERS :D

I needed this xD

One day I will probably do more thoughtful/serious takes on the shapeshifters, but for now I need my crackfic fix :D

[atrophiedemotion]

are you shining just for me?

ivan-centric ivantill prose. no warnings. wip-ish (im unsure if i'll continue but it stands on its own) 402 words. reblogs welcome.

Everything Ivan has ever loved has been untouchable.

He knew from the moment he saw how brightly Till shined that he was just as far out of his grasp as the stars he so closely resembled. Perhaps even farther.

The stars, at least, could not push him away. Could not turn their back on him. Could not leave him behind- or let themselves be left behind. They were a rare sight for Ivan, sure, but Ivan always knew they were there, even when he couldn't see them. Even when the faux glimmering spectacles were all Ivan could see enclosed inside the walls of Anakt Garden. He knew they were out there.

They were just a little far out of reach for him.

Things weren't so simple with Till.

Till was almost always in sight. Ivan made sure of it. It was something almost ingrained in Ivan, to keep his eyes on Till. To constantly remind himself of Till's presence, real and alive and burning, right there. Right there and still an impossible distance away.

Even when Ivan could feel for himself how alive and present Till was, it didn't even really feel like he was touching him. Touching Till was less like making contact with a person and more like holding stardust in his hands. Fleeting. Sand slipping through the cracks in his fingers.

The flecks of blood clinging to Ivan's knuckles, the faint drops of spit earned from Till's outrage, the stinging on his cheek that transformed pale skin into an angry red.

The weight of his own chin held up by Till's shoulder, the warmth from Till's back on Ivan's chest, the rubber of the ball Ivan made between his fingers as he collected the bits of eraser shavings that fell to the grass.

All equally real and unreal. Simultaneously feeling like proof and a dream.

Any and all physical reminders of Till, when he could acknowledge them as solid, legitimate signs of life, almost served more as taunts to Ivan than anything else.

He's so close, basically in the palm of your hand, and yet you are still unable to close your fist and keep him there.

No matter how close they were, the distance between them was unendingly cavernous. Uncrossable. Ivan assumed it would be easier to somehow tear a hole in the Garden's constructed ceiling to clutch the stars than broach the gap between himself and Till.

[itzzaira]

Withering Butterflies || future Michelangelo story

TW: Spirits, main character is dying and is aware of this. Mention of passed loved ones (who are also confirmed to be just fine and here)

When a mystic warrior is close to death, no matter the cause or reason of their passing- there are signs.

Signs their mystic magic sends out because it can sense that death is near, that it won't be long before it's time to leave the mortal realm, that their clock is almost done ticking. Such signs could be exhaustion, illness, a following sense of doom, weakened mystic magic, losing control of said magic, mystic aging, increase in visions-

Seeing spirits.

Not like his ancestors whom he tried to talk with on purpose. No, in his everyday life.

This is what they would call Mystic Sickness.

It didn't matter what you died off- it could be because of mystic magic, an attack, it didn't matter. Your mystic energies would sense it. It will let you know. It will make sure you know.

Michelangelo had ignored the signs for as much as he could- the mystic aging was because of the overuse of his ninpo, the exhaustion and loss of appetite was because of said aging, the sense of doom that followed him everywhere was normal they lived in the apocolypse-

He really had ignored it, for as long as he could.

Until the first butterfly had landed on his snout.

The white, glowing butterfly.

Butterflies had gone instinct years ago.

As soon as Michelangelo had seen that first butterfly... he knew he couldn't ignore it anymore.

He was dying.

Hamato Michelangelo was not afraid of death.

He knew he would die much younger than everyone else- he had always known. He was the only mystic warrior the resistance had, the only one who could cure those corrupted by Krang, the only one who could heal, the strongest out of them- which resulted in the overuse of his ninpo. He had assumed it would be his mystic powers that killed him.

He was right.

But no one needed to know that.

Instead of going to Leonardo, like he probably should, Mikey had ignored it. He had ignored how sick he felt, he ignored his hair that fell off in chunks, he ignored the sense of doom that seemed to get worse, he ignored the butterflies that only he could see that followed him everywhere.

...Butterflies that seemed to get more each and each day. The amount of spirits that seemed to be more, much more, following him around-

Until he had sensed the first spirit in Donnie's lab.

"...It is sad to see you sensing me so soon, Michelangelo."

Mikey had just smiled, gently closed the door behind him, and opened his eyes. "Good to see you again, Bary."

"Is it?" The sheep yokai crossed his arms, that same annoyed yet worried scowl on his face that Mikey had missed so much. His body was glowing cyan and his pupils were gone, just like every other spirit he had met until now- did that mean he was Hamato? He wasn't sure, the man didn't have the Hamato symbol- "-because I had hoped to see you hit your forties before you joined us."

Mikey smiled. "Heh... h-hah... hic..."

His smile fell.

He covered his mouth and allowed himself this moment of weakness- letting the orange-glowing tears drip down his cheeks as he slid onto the floor- his legs were too weak to hold him up. Part of the reason he had started floating everywhere. His legs were too weak to stand on.

The butterflies that had been surrounding him went down with him, landing all over his shoulders and head, trying to drink his tears. Michelangelo didn't know what was worse- the fact he was crying like a child... or the fact that the spirits seemed to think they were on the same plane of existence.

"...Oh, child." Draxum bent down next to him- he didn't have any of the old scars he had gotten, Mikey noted. The spirit winced at the orange tears, knowing full well they shouldn't be that color, but didn't comment on it. "You look so tired, Michelangelo."

"I am." The turtle wept, wincing when his tears burned his fingers. He shivered at the sensation of ghostly fingers touching his cheek- it felt cold. So cold.

As cold as he had been feeling, for the past couple of weeks.

Hamato Michelangelo was not afraid of death.

He knew his passing would be painful- probably by his magic ripping him into a thousand tiny pieces, or maybe he would get stabbed or something by Krang- he didn't know. He didn't care.

He foresaw all possible futures, all the possible outcomes, all the possible ways he would wither away. Made sure to be prepared, made sure to fight alone so no one would see him perish. Yet, he was worried.

Worried because until now, he hadn't been able to communicate with any of his family. "Where are my-"

"With your brother." Draxum pulled away, sat down properly, and folded his hands in his lap. "They didn't want to leave, but Leonardo seemed to be having a hard time."

...

"...They're... here?" Mikey could have cried with that knowledge if he hadn't been crying already, but didn't know if that was because of relief or hurt. They had been here? Here? All this time? When he had been searching for his brother's spirits... they had been he here? He... they never left?

They never left them alone.

They hadn't been resting like he'd hoped.

"...Cassandra is here as well," Draxum muttered, recognizing that his adoptive son was getting stuck in his own head again. "She wanted to make sure that Leonardo didn't raise her son to be a, and I quote, 'whimp'."

Mikey snorted. He couldn't help the giggles, covering his mouth with both hands. That sounded like Cassandra alright. She had seen him grow up after all? It... wasn't the best way, but- it was something.

"...Would you like to speak with your father?"

His head snapped up. Mikey looked at the spirit with disbelief, bloodshot eyes blown wide. "...Dad is here too?"

"He never left."

"..." The turtle curled up and winced once his legs ached at the movement. With a flick of his hand, his mystic magic lifted his legs and curled them to his chest. Mikey thought, for a moment... and then shook his head.

"...I doubt I could see him anyway." He mumbled. A butterfly got close to his cheek when a single tear slipped down.

"...I know." Draxum sighed. "I assume I'm the first spirit you're seeing?"

He nodded.

Selfishly, Michelangelo had hoped to find Donatello today, once he sensed the spirit in the lab. But thats okay. He would see him soon enough.

"I'm dying."

Not a question. A statement.

"But you already knew that, didn't you?"

Instead of answering, Michelangelo held out his hand. Another butterfly landed on his finger. Draxum sighed, muttered under his breath, and shook his head. "If you had stopped using mystic magic when I told you to you wouldn't be."

"I was needed." He watched the tiny creature's wings- so fragile, so small- so beautiful. No wonder it hadn't survived this world. "I didn't have a choice, Barry."

"Your magic is destroying you as we speak." Another grumble. "Your future visions are getting out of hand."

The turtle couldn't help it- he cracked a smile. "...You know about those?"

"You wake up floating in the air surrounded by mystic particles and many spirits all around you." The man crossed his arms. "I'm surprised Leonardo hasn't noticed yet."

"I don't want him to know." Mikey cringed when he felt some hair slip down his cloak when he shifted his position to sit more comfortably, then winced when his legs ached. He sighed, defeated. And with the flick of his hand, mystic magic lifted up his legs and crossed them.

Another butterfly settled on his knee.

"...Do you know how you're going to..."

"No." He didn't know if that was good or bad. Michelangelo knew it was important to stay prepared... but he didn’t exactly want to predict his own death. That was just how his visions worked. They were set in stone.

...Which brought up another issue.

"...I can't die yet, Draxum." A single tear slipped down his cheek, which immediately caused a swarm of butterflies to get closer to his face. "I'm needed here."

"You've destroyed yourself doing too much." Blunt, without sugar-coating it- yep, that was Draxum alright. "Your body can't hang on anymore. I'm sorry, Michelangelo."

If he had the energy, the turtle would fight it.

He would get up, say something about how you needed to do more to take this turtle down, then either get S.H.E.L.L.D.O.N. to scan him or attempt to heal himself, fail, find some books, a cure- something.

But he was just so tired.

Hamato Michelangelo was not afraid of death.

He knew what death was. He knew what it felt like. Cold, lonely, dark. At least. That was what death used to be. These days, death seemed warm. Peaceful. Lovely. And even though he couldn't sense their spirits yet, knowing the rest of his family was near and waiting, made it look so so much better. Heck, even the spirits with him right now- they felt cool, sure. But not freezing. This was a nice cool he used to feel when there used to be Summer breezes, offering relief amongst all the heat and allowing him to breathe.

But just as death had changed... so had life.

Life, which used to be joyful and warm and happy and bright, had turned dark and cold and full of grief. Never full, never well rested, always on the move, always dirty, always cold. Being cold bothered him the most, for some reason. Probably because instinct kept screaming at him to brumate but the turtle couldn't let himself.

Life had changed. So had death. And the other, brighter side didn't seem as bad anymore.

But...

"What about Leo?"

Draxum turned his head back so quickly, looking shocked and... something else. "...You are the one dying. Let me repeat that. Dying. And you worry about your brother?"

"I can't leave him, Barry..."

"He has April and Casey."

"It's not the same."

When their father had been... lost. The four had been together. They had grieved, they buried him somewhere worthy, they prayed.

When Raph had... left. The three had been there. They had been there the moment the building collapsed on top of him, had been with him as he moved from one plane of existence to the other, unwilling to let go and holding onto each other instead.

When Donnie...

...

"What will happen to them when I'm gone, Barry?" His breath hitched in ways it hadn't done for what felt like eons. His shoulders started shaking as he tried to curl up- but the pain that shot up his legs made him freeze instead, which just. Did it.

He couldn't move his legs. He knew damn well why.

Draxum's expression softened as he watched the turtle fall apart, watched the butterflies land all over his face to try and lap up his tears- it was fine. He could be weak. Just this once.

Hamato Michelangelo was not afraid of death.

Heck, he even longed for the warmth and love on the other side.

But...

Magic lifted his legs so he could curl up as he wanted to, and pulled up his cloak so his head was hidden, ignoring the hair that fell at the action alone. He buried his head in his knees, hugged himself, and- apologized.

How selfish.

To leave this cold, horrible world... when he was still needed here.

Needed by April, who needed her little brother to try and light up others- the only positive thing left.

Needed by Casey, who had lost his mother at such a young age, lost half his uncles, and shouldn't be losing another...

Needed by Leo.

Leo, who still blamed himself for something that wasn't his fault every single day. Leo, who started leading the resistance at such a young age to make up for said thing. Leo, who kept trying to give his portions of food because the younger brother just looked so sickly.

How selfish would he be to leave?

He couldn't do that to Leo. Not to Leo.

"They'll find ways to go on." The yokai mumbled, getting closer and letting a ghostly hand rest on Mikey's shell. It felt cold. A nice cold. But still, the mutant flinched away. No. "They've got each other."

"Leo won't survive, Barry." Mikey cried, looking up- okay the tears were starting to burn. It hurt. But at least that meant he was alive. "He barely did after Donnie. He can't. He won't... Barry. I can't leave yet."

"..." Draxum let a butterfly land on his finger. Looked at the insect, lost in thoughts. "...I'm afraid you do not have a choice."

He knew that. He had known for quite a while, even when the turtle tried to lie to himself and make up excuses for all of his symptoms.

But this...

He couldn't lie to himself anymore. Not for this. There was no other explanation as to why he was seeing spirits.

Hamato Michelangelo was not afraid of death.

He was afraid of what would happen to Leonardo after.

[ad-astra-per-aspera-1389]

Okay, so I don't usually post my fics directly on tumblr (usually just on ao3 with a link on here) but ao3 is down atm and I finished the dbd x mphfpc fic!

Tagging @fellow-fandom-fruitifier bc he asked :)

Um...I'll add what would be tags here:

Fandoms: Dead Boy Detectives (TV), Miss Peregrine's Home for Peculiar Children (Books)

Not really any necessary content warnings. Just a nice little case without anything dangerous, for once.

Word Count: 2069

The Case of the Lost Boys

Summary: The Dead Boy Detectives find themselves on the island of Cairnholm, investigating the whereabouts of a wandering ghost and his unfinished business.

While London alone was teeming with ghosts with issues to solve, occasionally ghosts brought cases from farther away. Typically, these cases were much simpler than what would, 25 years later, lead them to Port Townsend.

One of these cases, back in 1998, was The Case of the Lost Boys. 

The ghost of a young woman arrived in their office one afternoon. While the case didn’t necessarily concern her directly, she had spent a lot of time with the affected ghost. A young boy, around Charles and Edwin’s age, had been wandering the island of Cairnholm for decades, the woman said. He was looking for something—someone—that just wasn’t there. The woman paid them sufficiently, and Charles and Edwin agreed to take the case.

Mirror hopping led the two detectives through the mirror inside a bathroom, which was attached to a motel room, which was above a tavern. The sheer amount of noise coming from below caused Edwin to simply walk through the wall to get outside, instead of going down the stairs and through the tavern on the ground floor. It was one of several things that freaked Charles out every time Edwin did it. To his credit, however, Edwin was trying to do it less when Charles reminded him of it. However, that didn’t mean he didn’t still forget from time to time.

Edwin walked through a second floor wall and landed on his feet on the ground outside. A few minutes later, Charles was next to him, having taken the long way around. “Mate, you can’t keep doing that! I know you’re fine, but I still forget we’re dead sometimes.”

“Right, my apologies. I’ll use the door next time. I simply didn’t care to walk through such a loud establishment.”

“Next time, we’ll take the stairs and walk through a wall on the first floor, yeah?”

“Agreed. Now, let us track down this wayward ghost, shall we?”

After a bit of walking, the two detectives found the place their client had mentioned the boy to frequent. They had to wait a while, but, sure enough, the boy wandered through the bog and up near the old, previously bombed out house on the far side of the island. Once they were sure he’d stay there for a while, Charles and Edwin followed him up, Charles holding his cricket bat out in front of him.

“Excuse me,” called Edwin, “but we were called because we were told you might need help.”

The boy turned around. He’d been tearing through pieces of the house, searching. “My sister. She was here.”

“When it was bombed during the war?” asked Charles. He hadn’t quite gotten around to explaining the second world war to Edwin, but Charles knew London and other parts of the region had taken a lot of damage. He’d paid some attention during his history classes.

“Yes, but it always reset before anyone got hurt.”

“What do you mean, reset?”

“The bird reset it to the night before the house was destroyed. We would watch the show each night before bed. Then I went out one night, and I died. I can’t get back in. I haven’t seen her in years!” The boy punched a wall, causing chunks of it to fall out. Charles pulled Edwin backwards, out of the house entirely.

“I think he’s lost his mind,” said Charles, once he and Edwin were alone again. The two of them were poring over Edwin’s notes.

“It seems he’s lost his sister, and, though the house was bombed with her in it, he believes she’s alive.”

“He mentioned it all being reset. Sounds like a time loop, doesn’t it?”

“That it does, Charles, but we cannot see it, and therefore we cannot break it.”

“Is that even the problem, though? If he just sees his sister, he’ll move on.”

“That would be quite easy, Charles, if only we knew where the sister was.”

They didn’t even know the ghost’s name, and now they needed to find his sister, too? This wasn’t as easy as they thought it would be.

Charles and Edwin returned to the island the next day, after spending the night in the office reading up on time loops and delirium in ghosts. This time, they used the stairs to exit the tavern, and by the time they reached the old house it was midday. Despite the sun being high in the sky they still couldn’t see very well in the old charred house. Charles pulled two flashlights from his backpack and the search continued.

Eventually, Charles found a hole in the floor. ��Edwin, come look at this!”

The boy in question followed Charles’s voice until they were both looking down into the hole. Edwin went down into the hole while Charles stood lookout, just in case the ghost boy made another appearance.

Inside the hole in the ground, Edwin found a trunk of old photos, featuring children doing largely impossible or supernaturally odd things. As he sifted through them, a second light appeared above his head. It was a soft glow, like a fireplace, and Edwin looked up right as Charles called, “Edwin?”

A girl stood next to Charles, holding a ball of flames above the hole to see into it better. Edwin heard her voice echo as she asked Charles, “What are you doing here? Who are you?”

“Stay back,” warned Charles, pointing his cricket bat at her.

“What. Are you doing. In our house?” asked the girl, punctuating each set of words with a few steps forward. Behind her, Charles soon noticed, were a smaller girl, likely about seven years old, and a boy the older girl’s age that gave off a faint buzzing sound if it was quiet.

“We were just leaving, actually.” Charles took a step back.

“Good,” said the girl.

“Emma,” said the younger girl, “we should go before we’re late for lunch.”

Emma grimaced, turning around towards the two that were with her. “I suppose so. The bird will be angry if we’re late.” She cast one last warning glare over her shoulder at Charles, and then the three of them were gone.

Edwin climbed back out of the hole, with help from a rope Charles had in his backpack, and reported his findings to Charles. “It appears to be a group of syndrigasti: a variant of human with an extra soul. These extra souls give them special abilities, such as the boy’s ability to do so much damage around this place, and the girl’s fire.”

“So, his sister must be one too?”

“Not necessarily. It’s a relatively rare condition, however, it is especially likely in this case. If he cannot find her, and neither can we, she’s likely in a time loop for the living. Only syndrigasti can enter, and we are not that.”

“That doesn’t sound too bad then, does it? He can go in himself and find her.”

“Not if he died in a certain way. If the creature that killed him consumed his extra soul, then he can no longer enter the time loop, as he said before. We will need to get the sister to leave the loop temporarily.”

“How do we do that?”

“I do not know. I suppose if we can find another occupant of the time loop, we may be able to get a message across. For that, however, we’ll need more information from the boy.”

“What about that girl, Emma? She had abilities, didn’t she?”

“We don’t know for sure that she lives there, though it is likely. Unfortunately, they’ve gone, and we still do not know how to enter the time loop.”

Later in the day, the detectives found the boy in the same place as the day before. Charles stood by with his bat while Edwin questioned the wayward ghost. They learned that the boy’s name was Victor, his sister’s name was Bronwyn, and that he had, in fact, died in the way Edwin had suspected. 

The one good thing about all this was that he remembered how to enter the time loop. Charles suggested writing on the cave’s wall and hoping they’d see it when one of them left again. Edwin, however, thought it might frighten the children if they saw a note reading “Bronwyn, your brother is looking for you”, considering Victor had been dead for decades.

Instead, Edwin wrote out a neat note and attached it to the wall of the cave:

Bronwyn Bruntley,

I am from the Dead Boy Detective Agency. We were called in about your brother. His ghost is still on the island in the present day. Until he has closure, he will not move on to his afterlife. Victor’s unfinished business is seeing his sister again. Once you receive this, it would help both of us if you could leave the time loop temporarily to reunite with your brother.

Sincerely,

Edwin Payne

Edwin and Charles stayed on the island late into the evening, watching the mouth of the cave for someone to take Edwin’s note. Eventually, the note seemingly disappeared on its own. It moved like it was being removed from the wall by a hand, but there was no hand. It floated through the cave and disappeared through the other end.

Less than an hour later, two girls and a floating hat emerged from the mouth of the cave, each of them able to see Edwin and Charles (or so they assumed). One of the girls, the one that wore trousers and a shirt, asked, “Are you Edwin Payne?” She held the note in her hands.

“I am Edwin Payne. You must be Bronwyn.”

“I am. You found my brother?”

“We did.”

Victor, who had been all but dragged over near the bog by Charles earlier, stepped closer to the girls.

“Wyn?”

“Victor!”

The two siblings embraced so tightly that anyone else might have bruised a rib from it. Edwin and Charles gave them a bit of space for their little reunion, until, eventually, Edwin had to burst their bubble.

“I do not mean to bring down the room, but since your unfinished business has now been finished, Death will be coming to collect you shortly. Therefore, Charles and I must be going, now.” Edwin turned on his heel and began to walk away, Charles shortly behind him. 

Then, the other girl, Emma, called out, “Wait!” and Edwin stopped. He turned back around to look at her.

“Yes?”

“I don’t know if you work with the living at all, but I’ve been looking for a certain boy since the last war. If I give you a name, can you send the results to our post box in town?”

Edwin’s expression softened slightly, and he pulled out his notebook and pen. “Of course. What is the name?”

“Abraham Portman.”

This second, smaller case did not require that the Dead Boy Detectives remain on Cairnholm. The two of them did, however, have to use their disguises that would allow them to appear living. They searched computers and phone directories until they found the man Emma had been looking for.

The two ghosts finally found Abraham’s house in Florida, in the United States. Mirror hopping there was easy. The difficult part was deciding how to explain it to Emma. Abraham was married by then. He had a wife, two children, and his son even had a son of his own. So much time had passed since Emma was this young. Edwin understood far better than he’d have liked to.

Edwin ultimately wrote Emma, sending the letter to the postbox she gave the address to. Charles looked it over for sensitivity purposes, and then off it went. A week later, Edwin received a letter in return, thanking both he and Charles for putting in the effort to help her, even though she didn’t get the answer she wanted. Attached were a few paper bills as payment.

Although Edwin continued to be baffled as to how she was returning his letters, he continued sending them. As it turned out, despite having so many other children living with you, the novelty of a ‘pen pal’, as she called it, was slow to wear off. 

Letters were sent back and forth between Cairnholm and London regularly for a solid twelve years, and then, suddenly, they stopped. Edwin, unsurprisingly, began to worry. That is, until he received a letter from Florida, instead of Cairnholm.

Emma, it seemed, was doing just fine.

[pitter-patt-art]

Ace Attorney AU August (halfway progress update!)

Okay technically it's the 16th (lol, 17th by the time this is done) so a little over halfway actually, but still I thought since I haven't had anything finished to post the past few days this would be a fun alternative!

I've been going a little nuts (affectionate) over @augustwritingchallenge's AU-gust prompts list this year so August has been a wild ride (about 40k words of one, in fact. so far.) but seeing as I will get attached to even the jokiest of AU ideas instantly, I've completed* a whopping 5 whole fics of 16, lol. Considering the shortest of those is over 3k and the longest is over 12k, I think the problem with not finishing these in a timely manner is entirely on my verbose foolish thick skull, haha, but I'm still having a blast with it.

Here is my ao3 series where I'm posting!

And a rundown / progress report / quick teaser of all the AUs including those I've yet to finish, if anyone's interested:

(*by "completed" I should note two of the already posted fics are basically assuredly going to be continued past the challenge, but let's say "completed enough to post and be on theme")

1. Canon Divergence - complete - 4.5k words ("For the Murder of Mr. Wrong" link)

Mia POV, gen. What if Dahlia succeeded in poisoning Phoenix and framed Doug Swallow instead (and then Mia defended him in court)? Basically a 3-1 rewrite. Fun Fact: I only came up with this AU because before I even remembered AU-gust existed at all, I'd come up with like 4 totally separate AUs in which I poison Phoenix in various ways With Real Consequences because it amuses me, lol, but he survives all those other ones and I eventually realized I hadn't even considered straight up killing him off yet so I figured I should try it at least once, haha.

2. Colorless - complete 1st chapter - 3.2k words ("Grey Matters" link)

Phoenix POV (for 1st ch --prob alternating after), wrightworth. "You can't see color until the first time you touch your soulmate"-soulmate AU. 1st chapter is their first meeting as kids (skipping the class trial itself). Fun Fact(s): I really love a color soulmate AU! Big fan of the "only see the color of their eyes" type of one too but uhhh on top of that working better for things that have wild anime eye colors, you could not pay me enough to try to figure out what the HELL is going on with Ace Attorney eye colors at any given time lmfao. (Also--spoilers for what i haven't written yet but hey if you're here you earned it--this IS one of my very many "teehee what if i poison Phoenix just a smidge as a treat for me" fics. NOT my fault the man ATE GLASS. That's on him.)

3. Dark Academia - complete "1st chapter" - 4.4k words ("The Spirit of the Laws of Magic" link)

Mia POV, lanamia. Magical boarding school setting featuring corruption and missing-student conspiracies and a most likely overthought system of magic with hierarchies and prejudices in societal views of academic/formulaic vs folk/innate magic. Fun Fact: I really thought for SURE i was going to skip this day entirely, lol. (foolish.) I don't think i've actually ever personally read anything "dark academia", technically--so if this doesn't read EXACTLY that way, there you go, but i did my best. I also then thought I could live with keeping this vague but I accidentally thought about it too long so... plus at least two people on top of myself at this point have expressed interest in more of this and so I have some semi-concrete Plans™ now.

4. Zombie Apocalypse - conceptualized (but not started)

Concept: probably gen and Phoenix POV, but also because I'm me and they're them, at least a little bit wrightworth even if it isn't necessarily explicit in any meaningful way bc they are Not Normal about each other lol. A little sketchy on how much of an "AU" this counts for, since it could probably be argued to be canon compliant somehow, but basically just: Universe where they make a Pride and Prejudice and Zombies-type Steel Samurai reboot movie thing (featuring, you guessed it, zombies), and Miles comes over and forces Phoenix to watch it with him just to have someone to bitch about it at, and then during that time Maya blows her way into Phoenix's apartment as well with the exact same intentions except her "day job" isn't quite as time-sensitive-strict so she's already finished watching it earlier and knows all the spoilers. Honestly a good chance Phoenix and Pearl (who came with Maya) end up hiding out in the kitchen together to let Maya and Miles rile each other up in front of the TV, but I'm never exactly sure where they'll take me once I wind them up and set them loose on the page, so who knows. I also hadn't necessarily determined the exact time frame yet but for it to make sense as a reboot-type movie/special episode/whatever it probably should be 7yg-or-later so Trucy may or may not be there as well. (That said, in my struggles to complete an actually short one-shot, I probably shouldn't even include Pearl let alone Trucy, lol.) Fun Fact: I also thought I'd skip this day bc I'm not the biggest zombie guy in the world, and to be fair, I managed to do Way Less with it than the dark academia prompt so, yippie?

5. Chess Players - incomplete (currently 3k word WIP)

Miles POV, wrightworth. Miles is a chess grandmaster and back in Japanifornia for the upcoming world cup tournament, but his greatest challenge is actually to FINALLY best Franziska in their annual who-can-get-the-best-Christmas-gift competition. Luckily, he just so happened to hear of an artist who makes bespoke chess sets, so the plan is to get a custom board made for Franziska without her finding out. The plan is not to get trapped in a weird art collective labyrinth with some model-photographer named Cindy who keeps hitting on him but also happens to be protective of the artist he's there to see because "she and her boyfriend kinda-sorta owe him big time", but this is what he gets for coming here without doing any extra research into the artist besides seeing his work and hearing only "his name is White, or, eh, something like that, you know how those artist types are" from Mr. Amano. (AU where we replace law with chess and no I don't think Phoenix could necessarily hack it in the top-world-grandmasters-level of chess tournaments HOWEVER have you considered he DID go to art school so what if he just tries selling custom chess sets until somehow that reconnects him with Miles. Is that somehow a more insane plan than studying law? Maybe. Did Manfred still shoot Gregory but now it was over fucking chess? Maybe. Idk. But I did let Greg live this time at least!) Fun Fact: we can all DEFINITIVELY blame my lovely, terrible, very wonderful friend Ben (shameless friend plug! she's an outstanding writer and has some AA fics of her own too!! @kindlystrawberry on tumblr!!) for making a total joke about "well what about au where they make chess pieces instead" while i lamented not knowing enough about chess to write an actual match and spawning this ENTIRE concept. It is her fault. 100%. She is the guilty party. (I want to finish this one VERY BADLY. Save me.)

EVIDENCE!!!!! Guilty.

6. Reality Show - incomplete (currently 700 word WIP)

Phoenix (& Franziska) POV(s), background wrightworth wedding planning going on as set up but it's also definitely just one of my many excuses to set Phoenix and Franziska up as bitchy worsties who can't admit they enjoy each other's company and will cut you down if you suggest it as such. So far I've only written the quote "set-up" section which is in Phoenix's POV, but that was SUPPOSED to be like 5 paragraphs and cut away and then lead into my actual plan for the main body, which was to be in Franz's instead, so. This is very similar to the zombie one in that it's them watching reality tv instead of being contestants on a show (I don't personally like or watch a lot of reality tv so my creative well was somewhat dry on how to make that work) and then I accidentally thought about Phoenix and Franziska watching something just to judge and tear apart the decisions of every person on it and that was too fun to not consider further, haha. Basically the plan is just they get left alone together and don't know what to do with that and end up wine-drunk and making fun of some reality dating show of some kind and Miles and Trucy come back to them losing it together over something stupid and are like "......uh. what's happening." Fun Facts: I really love the thought experiment of Franziska somehow discovering how often Phoenix's internal dialogue/reads on situations and especially people can be So Bitchy And Judgey despite his affable complexion, and her unfortunately finding his opinions to SOMETIMES be somehow slightly okay. Moderately correct, even--occasionally. I know the section she follows you-as-Phoenix around in T&T is really not long at ALL, but I adore it. There's something about it that so badly makes me want to force them into proximity more (to both their chagrin, I'm sure).

7. Farm/Ranch - complete - 12k words ("Two Little Dickey Byrdes" link)

Gumshoe POV, gumbyrde (tho i still think dickeybyrde is a funnier ship name). 5+1 things--except more like maybe 7-or-8+1 to be honest--so it's more: over 5 times Dick and Maggey sit on a wall together and 1 time they find someone else there instead. AKA: Dick runs his family's small farm (think fantasy farm like in a farming sim or maybe horse girl novel type of thing that has nothing to do with what a real farm is like lol don't worry about it) and Maggey starts working at the next farm over as the latest of her many odd jobs. Fun Fact: oh god this one got so far away from me. it was not supposed to be this long lmao. it's literally the elaborate set-up to a very silly Nursery-Rhyme-I-Didn't-Even-Know-About-Prior-To-This -based punchline!?! still, i was pleasantly surprised by how happy i was with this once it was done... two sittings and about 16 total hours later. haha).

8. Nomad - incomplete (planned/outlined)

Apollo (or possibly Klavier) POV, klapollo. Sort of Jove-Thalassa swap adjacent, but basically: AU where Jove survives the Khura'in fire but loses his memories for [contrived convince sake reasons]. (And also possibly loses some or all of his eyesight just to really go for the parallels?) Therefore: Jove and Apollo stay with Dhurke and Nahyuta and the Defiant Dragons for a time, while Jove recovers, but eventually they leave and head out on their own, just the two of them, and do the traveling musician thing, both because it's dangerous in Khura'in and Dhurke already canonically didn't want Apollo to get caught up in it and potentially get hurt to begin with and because with a functioning actual parent Apollo doesn't need to be taken in by him--and also Jove from what little we know seems like he prefers to be on the move and was already a world traveler anyhow, so even amnesiac maybe he gets a little antsy stuck in one place too long. And so like amnesiac Thalassa, Jove thusly becoming a renowned mysterious musician--and then Apollo, sweet tone deaf Apollo, becoming the sonager of all time (like a momager but...you get it) because he's not that into music but he IS into arguing for better conditions/making deals (contracts!! international legalese!! woohoo!!) with venues and promoters and stuff. And then--oops dang Lamioir still exists and now they have a meet-cute (2 electric bugaloo) (but by then it's later enough Trucy still exists because it will be a cold day in hell when I don't find a way to make her work) and they do music collabs or join up to form a group or whatever and OOPS this means now that Apollo and Jove are with Lamioir when The Gavinners / Klavier specifically meet her and get her to come to do the Guitar's Serenade concert eventually. And Apollo and Klavier ofc thusly also have a meet-cute and then talk and bond etc etc. AND THEN the au STOPS THERE and I DON'T think about how without Apollo Phoenix is totally getting convicted of Zak's murder because there's no way that trial works out as well for him with some other attorney and I also don't think about how reasonable it would then be that maybe Trucy ends up helping Valant with his work setting up the trick for the concert afterward on account of the one father in prison and the other being dead and having left behind a notarized confession clearing Valant's name of suspicion, etc. AND I DEFINITELY do not think about how i could then still so easily get everyone in one place at the concert for Turnabout Serenade and/or any possible funny Sibling (And Thalassa) Reveal that could happen i dont i dont i do not--

9. Accidental Baby Acquisition - conceptualized (not started)

Gen, possibly my weakest / least defined idea on this list, but basically: Phoenix kind of already lives this in canon, lol (insomuch as an 8yo counts as a baby) so I thought, well, how to take it a different direction, then? And I thought, I don't usually go for a Phoenix Fey kind of au because I personally really love the relationships he has with all the Feys as-is in canon and so it's not quite as funny to me as, say, a Miles Fey AU where like Misty and Gregory are married, or any of the ones in that bent, because I'm sorry but that's just SO funny (and sad, but mostly funny) any way you slice it--plus his NAME is RIGHT THERE mia-miles-maya he FITS--anyhow, that completely aside, there are just a lot of reasons I really love the platonic relationships the Feys already have with Phoenix and I don't think it NEEDS to be made specifically familial to still be so very important, y'know? BUT. That said. AU where Phoenix is idk abandoned as a baby or maybe his parents die young or something and it's like a Thing to leave babies at temples or churches or whatever, right? So like--Phoenix adopted by the Feys AU but only because the more i considered it the more i thought it would be WILD for him to literally know Maya her entire life, and it's fascinating to me to consider a Maya who ISN'T basically left all alone to her own devices (and Morgan's) and who has someone absolutely in her corner in the village the entire time even after Mia leaves (who isn't a baby when Mia leaves, love you tho Pearls), AND also and perhaps more importantly, the ships-passing-in-the-night-ness of a scene where, like: Morgan does something sketchy or whatever and Phoenix wants to keep Mia updated but for whatever reason decides to go down to the city and actually tell her in person and so he's waiting outside the courthouse or something (possibly part of or perhaps Most Of the reason he goes in person is because he knows her first courtroom trial is that day and he wants to see her + hear how it went) and when he gets there she's in a heated argument with some asshole in a fancy over-embellished jacket and once that guy leaves Phoenix is like "Sheesh, what's his problem?" You know???? And maybe he really would never even know!!!! Bc he grew up in Kurain!!!! And has no reason to care!!! About some random prosecutor who was mean to Mia!! Aaaah!!! So that, and on top of that, Diego would be there too ofc at that point, and I feel like he would ALSO be quite a funny interaction in this scenario. ("Wow, someone's popular, kitten, you have all sorts of guys waiting on a chance to talk to you, heh?" "Uh.--I'm sorry, WHAT did you just call her")

10. Enemies-to-Allies - incomplete (currently 370 word WIP)

Ema POV, faraskye. Cyberpunk AU where Lana is still under Gant's thumb and Ema, with no other way to stay close to her and getting rejected from any of the sorts of jobs she really wants to do, decides to just join the security force (or cyber police or w/e I decide to call it) and is tasked with hunting down the Yatagarasu, guerilla hacker supreme who is threatening the sanctity of the capitalist overlords. Except Ema's squad gets ambushed and she's captured and tied to a pole, and with her useless fop partner seemingly not coming to rescue her (if he even noticed her absence), she does some quick cost-benefit analysis and decides she didn't really like that job anyway and maybe there's another way she can get her sister back in her life. So she breaks free of her own handcuffs (which she definitely didn't modify into incidental ineffectiveness she's still testing for bugs) and helps fix the "Little Thief" device her captor seems to have broken despite how obviously valuable and impressive the tech is, and they eventually come to something of an agreement. If you can't beat 'em, join 'em, and all that. Either Ema as the hardware-engineer one and Kay as the software-programming one as the two sides of the tech coin, or else Kay can just be like doing the physical sneaking kind of spy stuff only--or maybe she knows a little about software but not so much she's a pro the way she is with infiltration and such. Possibly toying with the idea Kay herself is just completely an android, but if not, I think she has some cybernetic cyborg things going on regardless. Possibly from or inspired by her father? I also like the idea that Gant did something maybe more drastic with regards to having dirt on Ema to get Lana to do his bidding--like maybe Ema has a whole cybernetic hand because instead of just her handprint on a leather jacket, Gant has some sicko jar with her entire hand in it in his office safe, or something. I don't know why this would be useful to him but it is certainly an image. I also find it funny if Miss Fingerprint Powder Enthusiast doesn't actually have any fingerprints of her own anymore somehow in this AU, lol.

11. Retail Worker - complete - 6.7k words ("The Bake Anything Boulangerie" link)

Apollo POV, gen. Phoenix gets a job at a bakery instead of the Borscht Bowl Club during the 7 year gap, and Apollo happens to stumble across it and ends up meeting the Wrights while he's still in high school. He becomes a regular at the bakery and is already close to them by the time "Shadi Smith's" murder comes around. And also, yes, sibling reveal right away--at least as soon as Phoenix realizes and can reveal it. As a treat. (Other reveals, though, I might put poor Apollo through on a delayed basis. Also as a treat, lmao, just not one for him.) Fun Fact: I'm being redundant bc this is also in my a/n, but, Baker Phoenix lives rent-free in my brain because Professor Layton vs Phoenix Wright was in fact the very first Ace Attorney game I ever played, technically, and Maya and Phoenix semi-brainwashed in that bakery was literally one of my first impressions of them. ........followed immediately by starting a let's play of Justice for All (which i watched through the first case, after which I was like oKAY fine maybe i DO need more context here, i should probably figure out what the actual first game is, and went back to start the series properly at the beginning hahaha). What do you MEAN i have a disproportionate fascination with amnesiac Phoenix, even if I have yet to finish and publish one of my myriad AUs that utilize stupid, unrealistic, plot convenient re-temporary amnesia?? Hm???? Idk what you're talking about. Also everyone who complains about 2-1 is wrong lmao it's objectively (okay subjectively is what i'm saying yes BUT objectively) such a funny place to start without knowing broad plot strokes, it's great. I both knew so much and absolutely shit-all nothing about Maya after PLvPW and 2-1, LMAO. god.

12. Animagus Wings (Joker) - incomplete (planned/outlined)

Miles POV, wrightworth. Angel/Demon AU, except I'm playing super fast and loose with the rules on that because all my knowledge of Christian-mythos comes from firstly and unknowingly the Chronicles of Narnia and more recently and cognizantly Lucifer (Netflix) and Good Omens. I know that's probably more or less what we're all doing with this kind of AU but still, I'm not even sure I want to refer to Heaven and Hell here, I'm kinda on the fence about maybe just keeping it all very vague? I also accidentally semi-worldbuilt more than i intended incidentally on account of "But Then How-Why Names If Angelic Creatures?" Format-wise it would semi-follow gomens s1 where it's hopping through some meetings between long stretches but also a kind of pre- and post- Fall type of thing? And potentially à la Lucifer becoming, like, these are My Mortal Humans and i will be Spending Time With Them, screw you celestial duties, I'm making my own Free Will, etc. And i mean i guess Lucifer is also a crime procedural lmao maybe they still solve crimes in the end too. Fun Fact: I didn't want to do the original prompt for several reasons, and sure fuck jkr is one of them but even before I knew about her I still wasn't really the biggest hp person in the first place? So i wouldn't know/don't remember at all the way it works without having to do the specific research and i...don't want to haha. Hence. And I know the prompt seems to be using it loosely / might just be borrowing the word and not actually referencing hp specifically but tbh either way human-animal shifter things just in general I can be somewhat picky about haha. (Okay okay plus full disclosure the ONLY idea I have for this sort of thing actually ties into my day-3-dark-academia-extended-au-verse and i COULD make my life simpler by just connecting the two days but Heh who would I be if I simplified things for myself... *sigh*) All that to say: I saw "wings" on the wild card list and I thought, ooh, well that's still sort of a related concept! Let's tag that one in! So it's still kind of day 12 prompt-adjacent, if you squint.

13. Found Footage - incomplete (planned/outlined)

Video Transcript POV? Is that a thing? Possibly capped by a little Phoenix POV (but i don't want that to get too long), wrightworth. Larry's new girlfriend of the month bakes weed brownies and Larry does not realize this and swings by the Wrights' apartment to beg some kind of help off Phoenix and forgets the whole tray there somehow (because it's Larry) and they leave to deal with Larry's thing and by the time they figure the brownies out, in some twist of fate Miles and Trucy have been hanging out (last minute babysitter/adult supervision? but she's at the very very least 14 or 15 here and most likely older, and Nick clearly isn't the most strict about like uhhh supervision in general lol sooo idk. he's helping her with a project or smth. it doesn't really actually matter; he's THERE, that's the important thing.) The point I'm very clearly getting at is they accidentally get incredibly high (not dangerously so because I'm not going that far haha but also, neither of them has actually been high before, so they are Affected) before Phoenix finds out what was in the brownies and tries to warn Trucy and hurry home to like, dispose of them or at least put a warning label on them or whatever, but he is too late lol. By a lot. Definitely an underage drugs tag on this bad boy because it's definitely sometime 18-or-earlier for Trucy, let alone 21. (idk about other places but as a Californian I can tell you Japanifornia "LA" could theoretically have it legalized at 21 for anyone (like alcohol) and 18 with Dr's permission--which Trucy definitely does not have in this AU lol.) Basically, Phoenix grabs Trucy's phone to get photo evidence so he can let them never live this down (after making sure they're okay lmao), but he ofc doesn't get technology so he doesn't realize he leaves the phone still recording when Trucy asks him for something / needs his help, so the recording just keeps going and captures a lot of tomfoolery and eventually some inebriated-to-Extremely-sober Feelings-Adjacent confessions (or maybe more like allusions). Idk, this was actually a fic I thought of before August and wanted to use as an excuse to try a Weird Format for fun, but then i saw this was a prompt on the list and...well. Fun Fact: Cannabis was legalized in California on November 8, 2016 (the first election I could vote in!!! ......uh, rip. lol. but yeah babey I helped legalize weed at least!! gotta remember the positives), which means it was legal right in time for Miles' case(s) / Turnabout Goodbyes!!! Yay!! I mean, I suppose that's genuinely seriously one way to try to mitigate nightmares and manage insomnia--not that I think Miles Edgeworth would ever deign stoop so low as to use an aid to manage his severe PTSD and trauma symptoms, psshaw, who do you take him for? (Get these people some help lol. They all need so much therapy.)

14. Princes & Princesses - conceptualized (not started)

So I've been reading a lot (a LOT) of isekai and/or revenge reincarnation romance fantasy manhwas lately (like, oh, too many, hahaha. they're quite good and they're VERY popular in webcomics at the moment.) Soooo. Soft pitch: Apollo already gets slapped into so many wild backstories he's constantly trying to dodge in an effort to be just a Normal Guy, he's honestly, like, the PERFECT protagonist for one of these lmao. And tell me Kristoph doesn't make a perfect "Upstanding Duke" kind of persona, and Klavier couldn't be the "wild rake" younger brother no one expects much from, and all I'm saying is it wouldn't be that hard to contrive a reason Apollo tries to get Klavier to agree to a contract marriage the way all these stories go, lol. And also, something something, Apollo from the "real world" is an orphan/has an absent family (also like so many of these manhwa protagonists, lol) but then he gets to actually have one in his second life!! I'm such a sucker for that shit. Slightly harder pitch, and the reason I did not let myself actually start writing anything (...yet): so what if the actual plot of the "original romance novel" Apollo is familiar with from the "real world (Earth)" is actually about the slightly older generation and something something instead of admiring Phoenix as a defense attorney, it's just that he instead was Apollo's favorite "love interest" character (not, like, for himself, just the one he most liked to read about) in every way except what a blithering idiot he became when the author had him fall for the female lead--but BEFORE that, he's a cool information guild leader guy who seems like he's trying to work toward some way to improve conditions for commoners in the kingdom (but abruptly there are no more mentions of this after he gets involved with the lead, which is annoying). Aaaand... I guess what I'm saying is, Dahlia is the original female lead because she REALLY fits the whole White Lotus trope, and I'm thinking Klavier is the original male lead because A) hilarious, B) fits in with the idea there's more going on in the ACTUAL world Apollo ends up in that is written in such a way as to make things seem different in the novel (like, that Dahlia and Klavier are actually as nice as they seem and that the terrible things that happen around them are just the trials and tribulations of being main characters and not anything they're directly involved in). And Apollo, the character in the novel Apollo, is an adopted prince of Khura'in, but he's the sickly younger prince and of course not actually of the royal bloodline (and also a man, considering Khura'in is matrilineal), so Rayfa and Nahyuta are the ones the public and other nobles actually know and care about and deal with. But wait! As it so turns out, The Wright Anything Information Guild (I feel like the actual guild name CAN'T have their freaking name on it front and center lol but you get the idea) happens to know some other things that aren't really expanded on in the original novel, and might be key to preventing Apollo's death so he doesn't follow the path of the original story, and also idk maybe Apollo and Trucy are half-fae or something like that and instead of like Aw Yay Bracelet in this AU it's more of a secret Iron Shackle Tool That Will Hurt I Mean Totally-Definitely-Help Us Later (still, in a way, passed down to him by Thalassa, but more as, like... she's kind of a secret hostage and does not manage to hide pregnancy number one so Apollo's now also a secret hostage, but she manages to escape so they don't know about Trucy, only she didn't tell Apollo basically anything to "keep him as safe as possible" or w/e, and......) Well, anyway. It got away from me before I even really wrote anything, that's all.

15. Secretly Alien - unfinished (currently 2.6k WIP)

Trucy POV, gen. Apollo gets sick of very consistently always losing the card games they play at the Wright Anything Agency (usually and in the specific instance the fic starts, Bullshit/BS) and in a stroke of inspiration somehow ropes everyone into playing Among Us instead. ("What! It's still a game of trying to lie/trick everyone else--like you like!--but I actually stand a freaking chance, so we're playing this or I'm going home.") Yes. This is my Among Us AU. Hi. They play Among Us. I'm justifying this one as prime AU territory however because A) Among Us has to exist in this universe, and even more pressingly, B) I found a way to force Phoenix to have--for at least a period of time if not moving forward in perpetuity--an actual smartphone instead of a Nokia-type brick cellphone. Which even under the wild but somehow plausible considering Ace Attorney circumstances I contrived, is just automatically a complete AU lmao. Fun Fact: I am so mad this one wasn't just totally finished day-of, lol. Why I ever thought I could give myself run of an entire WAA 4-person conversation and NOT get instantly derailed is beyond me. (And I want to get the prosecutors there, too?? Someone take the characters away from me.) Anyway. No, I have not written ANY of the actual Among Us part yet. Sigh. Also I haven't personally played amogus since like, 2021? maybe? And I know (now) that it's been pretty updated since then, but, ehhh, I'm just gonna run off like, lockdown-era amogus rules and vibes, lol. If I can get to the game part.

16 - Hobby Drama - conceptualized

I'm going to go out of order this time to say: Fun Fact: I have ALWAYS wanted to write a Reddit-style fic!!! I absolutely love them and I've read some REALLY, really good ones, so I've always wanted to try my hand at it. So theoretically this is the perfect time to make that a reality and write a r/HobbyDrama subreddit fic, buuut I got stuck before starting because I'm torn on two possible routes to take it (I can easily foresee myself caving and just doing both lol). - Option 1: Steel Samurai fandom discourse, always a fun/funny thing to think about, definitely would enjoy having Maya and Miles post some stuff for that. - Option 2: courtroom law fandom discourse, because come ON, how are those galleries ALWAYS SO FULL. The little wiggling rabba-rabba onlookers have GOT to have investment in this shit. And why WOULDN'T they, honestly. I've seen those trials and I have, in fact, spent a Lot of time thinking about them, not that any posts I've made lately would reflect that in any way or anything. Like I know it's hard to tell, but if I can be invested in the Lawyers Fandom, who's to say the people in the courtrooms aren't????? And I LOVE an outsider POV fic actually, I think they're so fun. So anyway. Reddit fic. You will be mine. Just as soon as I can hone my energy

And, what the hell, since it's so late now by the time I complete this "Heh This'll Be So Quick To Throw Together" post, I'll include today's, too:

17 - Flower Shop - conceptualized (at work earlier today. lol)

AU where Daddy Hawthorne is like, 97% less shitty. And the Hawthornes have a flower shop instead of like a gemstone industry or whatever. And he takes both Dahlia and Iris with him instead of dumping one of his daughters at a fucking secluded mountain temple and seemingly forgetting about her forever. On second thought, maybe what I actually mean is he's like 999% less shitty, lmfao. Anyway, Iris POV, but Dahlia (while not a "nice" person by any stretch) is not pushed to such extremes or nearly as desperate as canon, so Valerie lives, Terry Fawles lives, Doug Swallow lives, and Dahlia gets to live a good life overall--because as much fun as I love using her as a villain, she's really such a product of the absolute worst circumstances and I really do find her interesting so I've been kind of wanting to explore her in a less cartoonishly evil light, haha. (Don't get me wrong, I do love the cartoonishly evil light too, but I like spicing things up sometimes.) Like, she does (more) normal teen rebellion things ("Look at my inappropriately older boyfriend, Dad" "I'm going to talk my way out of speeding tickets and petty shoplifting as a bid for attention" etc.) and she still totally orders Iris around and Iris still totally does whatever she asks very much to her own detriment and has to learn to break away and be her own person. Fun Fact: I have a very passionate love for Iris/Adrian Andrews. Is that. Um. Is that a ship anyone else has ever considered before? Is that just me? I'm not sure but very possibly I'll just make this a rarepair fic as a treat, for me alone, teehee. (Like... it's about the becoming the master of your own destiny it's about breaking out of codependent cycles it's about how I genuinely honestly think they'd be each other's type and have chemistry even though they've obviously never interacted lmao... idk what to tell you.)

AND THATS MY AU-GUST UPDATE POST!!!

If you made it this far, take a sprinkle of my undying affection, and may you be blessed with AU inspiration if you so desire it!! (If you do not desire it, hopefully you are not cursed with it. I do not take refunds if you are. Sorry.)

Wish me luck with completing some more fics soon!!! Unfortunately weekends are actually my least free time because I work the most and the earliest hours so I have less time and am more tired, but also on Wednesday I'm leaving for a family vacation, which will either be the BEST thing to happen in regards to AU-gust or the WORST thing lmfao. If nothing else I have 2 flights, and I actually Love writing on an airplane, so fingers crossed for it being Good. <3

EDIT: Now with part 2 for the rest of the month here!

[ectogeo-rebubbles]

Happy 31st anniversary, DS9!

Because 31 is the Sloan number, I hereby challenge the fandom to collectively post at least 31 new fanworks tagged "Luther Sloan" on ao3 this year (2024) to celebrate! >:)

(The original air date of the first DS9 episode was Jan 3, 1993.)

[chatxkilluaxnoir]

Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: Gravity Falls Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Dipper Pines & Mabel Pines, Dipper Pines & Stan Pines, Dipper Pines & Mabel Pines & Stan Pines, Dipper Pines & Mabel Pines & Dipper and Mabel Pines' Parents, Dipper Pines & Dipper and Mabel Pines' Parents, Jesus "Soos" Alzamirano Ramirez & Dipper Pines, Mabel Pines & Stan Pines, Jesus "Soos" Alzamirano Ramirez & Mabel Pines, Jesus "Soos" Alzamirano Ramirez & Dipper Pines & Mabel Pines, Alcor the Dreambender & Mizar the Gleeful, Dipper Pines & Original Character(s), Alcor the Dreambender & Original Character(s) Characters: Dipper Pines, Mabel Pines, Dipper & Mabel Pines' Parents, Stan Pines, Jesus "Soos" Alzamirano Ramirez, Belle Sterling, Lionel Sterling, Noie, Naomi "Noie" Argenta, Alcor the Dreambender, Mizar the Gleeful Additional Tags: Alternate Universe - Transcendence (Gravity Falls), Character Study, Introspection, Character Analysis, Dark Thoughts, Family Feels, Familial Issues, Family Issues, The Mindscape, The Mindscape (Gravity Falls), Dipper Pines Needs A Hug, Demon Dipper Pines, dipper is between a darker phase and a lighter phase, leaning more towards dark, Protective Dipper Pines, Dark Dipper Pines, Dipper Pines is a Mess, I wrote this fic because I love dipper, and wanted to analyze him some, Also while I want him to be happy, I do also love angst and to see my faves suffer some too, like dipper, And Thus This Fic Was Born, Oh I almost forgot to tag this, Angst Summary:

Dipper has some time alone in the Mindscape.

And his mind then wanders.

He does not enjoy it.

[nythtak]

Thought it'd be fun to do a little drabble soooo-

Cattonquick Oxford Days - the first cigarette

(This is based in the Maneater AU - unless I change my mind on details later - but can be read as in canon universe)

The lighter fails to catch the first couple of times Felix tries it. But after a final, despairing shake of the crappy thing, the flame sputters to life.

“Thank fuck,” he mumbles around the ciggie, and hurriedly brings the lighter up. April’s swung in with far too much chill, because fuck England, right? No spring for them, nooope. Just horrible grey rainy days, where even brief lulls like this evening are tarnished by cold winds.

He’s regretting not grabbing a jacket when he had chance to, and he eyes Oliver’s long-sleeves jealously. They’re on their way back from the pub, and it’s still early enough that most streetlights feel unnecessary. After a of couple hours there Felix realised he just wasn’t feeling it tonight, that stickiness of going through the motions and not enjoying himself like usual, where even a few pints couldn’t soften it up.

So when Oliver gave him a nudge, mentioned he has an essay he really needs to work on, Felix leapt at the chance to head out. He has his own pile of coursework to dive into before the Easter holidays start. Maybe speed through a chunk of it tonight, get that late night focus on, and then he can decide how much is usable tomorrow.

He’s glad he decided to stick it out at Oxford over the coming break. Originally it was more about keeping his word on staying at university all year, rather than nipping home every holiday - or even every other weekend, like some silly sods do. He went as far as to swear off a trip abroad this school year, fully committed to the uni life, which means no fluttering off to sunnier skies.

He aims a glower up at the dark clouds far above them. Curse thy existence.

“Felix?”

Felix’s head snaps down, and down, and he has to grin. Oliver is so short. Like, okay, so he’s not actually super-duper short. A bit below average, perhaps, and around the height of most girls. But he’s a lot shorter than Felix, which is what really matters.

It means he’s the perfect height - practically made for it - for Felix to sling an arm around his shoulders and drag him into his side. Oliver runs a bit cool, but he’s still a damn sight warmer than the nippy evening air.

“Yeah, mate?” Felix takes a pull from the ciggie, careful not to blow it all in Oliver’s face. Would be awfully rude. But that does get him thinking about how Oliver doesn’t smoke, and he frowns at him. “You know, I don’t think you ever said why you don’t smoke.”

Could it be something to do with his family? Cigarettes are a huge leap from heroin and meth and whatever else, but traumas can be multi-layered, can’t they? A full-on aversion to anything even related. But Oliver is clearly battling through it, going to the pub and clubs where alcohol abounds, not even flinching at all the casual drug use their group gets up to.

“Just not keen.” Oliver shrugs slightly, and it’s interesting to feel the motion of it under his arm. Makes him want to squeeze Oliver a bit. His hand slides down to cup Oliver’s bicep rather than hanging loosely, but he holds off on the full grabby. For now.

“So you’ve tried one before?”

Oliver hesitates, but shakes his head. He’s looking ahead rather than at Felix, and while he does have lovely thick hair, that isn’t quite the view Felix wants currently.

So he brings them to a stop, Oliver stumbling into him a bit and looking up questioningly. There it is. Christ, Oliver’s eyes seem to get bluer every time Felix catches a glimpse. Like, with each additional second he knows Oliver, he’s able to see more of him. Another droplet of paint on the colour palette, swirled in with patient brush strokes.

“If you’ve never tried it…” Felix puts the ciggie between his lips, just so he can flip his hand and pluck it out again. Holding it filter-first toward Oliver with an inviting smile. “How can you know you won’t like it?”

Now, Felix would never pressure anyone into doing something they don’t want to. That would be terrible manners. All he’s doing here is giving Oliver the chance to expand his horizons. Indulge in a little fun, like he’s clearly not had chance to- well, probably in his whole life.

Felix has been making up for that. He’s fully embraced showing Oliver the highlights of uni life, and it’s been an absolute blast so far. Letting Oliver have a go at smoking is just another part of that.

“I dunno, mate.” The corner of Oliver’s mouth ticks up as he looks from the ciggie to Felix. “They’re not great for your health, right?”

The little right? at the end softens what might’ve been an annoying admonishment, to something that makes Felix smirk. “All part of the appeal. If we only did what was healthy, we’d be a proper dull lot.” He raises his eyebrows and tips the cigarette closer to Oliver’s lips, his pinky finger grazing Oliver’s chin. “You’re not dull, are you, Ollie?”

He knows most of his friends think Oliver is boring. That he outlived any novelty within the first week; Felix’s unlikely saviour from a tutorial scolding, the scholarship boy with the funny accent. Farleigh has certainly made his opinion clear, his pissy attitude the real bore around here.

They just don’t get Oliver. None of them.

Nah, Felix is the only one who gets the real Ollie, the one Oliver trusts and opens up to. They’re already best mates, fitting together like two puzzle pieces. And the way Oliver looks at him - yeah, it can get a bit much at times, but it’s all part of Oliver’s charm, really. He’s completely genuine and clearly thinks the world of Felix, so obviously he can’t filter that intensity down. Felix would never ask him to. He accepts Oliver exactly as he is.

Oliver takes the cigarette, pinched between his thumb and forefinger as he eyes it like it might bite him. Or give him lung cancer.

Felix would give him a drumroll if he could. He settles for an encouraging shake and cheering, “Go oooooon, Oll-aaaaay!”

And Oliver does.

Not that there was ever any doubt. But it’s still satisfying in a warm, buzzy way to watch Oliver take a drag, lips pursed and the shadows on his cheeks deepening a little. Takes it like a pro, his Ollie, and it’s only once Oliver’s eyes close that Felix realises they’ve been locked in a staredown.

Then Oliver breathes out, and Felix is hit by a faceful of smoke.

The moment his coughing fit is done, he grabs a hastily apologising Oliver by the shoulder, snatches the ciggie back, and gets revenge.

[solar-halos]

i’m gonna see you alligators later

[catkin-morgs-kookaburralover]

It might feel like reality fades in, but what it really is—really really, I mean, inasmuch as this is real—is consciousness fading in. Like someone or something else was piloting the body, and control was just wrested back.

Most people would expect to remember what happened before, but this is just... blank; not like it was removed, or by some other violent means taken away, but like it never existed. All there is is light, not bright enough to hurt but not dim enough to hide. There are walls, but they look vaguely damp.

There is probably poison in the air; every breath is moist and the only reason it cannot be smelled is because the body is used to whatever smell haunts this place. It might kill eventually, if death is possible here.

Perhaps there ought to be fear; even emotions are gone, except for an all-pervading sense of dread, too quiet to notice unless it's looked for. Can you hear breathing? What would happen if someone screamed in here? Would it echo, or would it vanish, swallowed by the distance? Feet are noiseless on the perpetually unrepaired carpet.

That means nobody will hear anyone else coming up behind them unless they make an effort to be audible. Behind, there is a continuation of the same walls and passages. Nobody is visible, but there's the sense of someone at the shoulder, hiding, about to do something dreadful; something worse than death, and not in the Victorian sense, but in the real sense, because at least death would be silence, and darkness, and not the whispering hum of fluorescents on their last legs, and not their uneven flickering illuminating unwell yellows.

None of the passages and rooms are arranged in a way that make sense. There is no larger pattern to be seen, and even if memory was infallible, there is no pattern, no matter how far anyone goes. Is sleep possible in here, even that temporary reprieve? Is there food? Will someone waste away here; is there a skeleton just around the next corner? Or behind—look behind again. There is still nobody, and in a way that is worse.

Does the body just... keep going? Is the consciousness fading in because the last one, eventually, faded out entirely?

Or, worse still, is this the only consciousness in the whole—wherever? Is there doomed to be only yellow, uneven colouring, doorways to nowhere, and the muted howl of dying light forever?

[marsafter-dark]

More Bloodweave being freaks for each other because these past few weeks have been rough (ft. everyone’s favorite freak, Ascended Astarion 🔞)