#writing fanfiction like a bus

[olenvasynyt]

A meme I made while writing...something

Art credit to @cauldronblssd and the artist @oexas btw!

[psychologicalwarclaire]

18 for the injury prompts. Gimme brains and brawn plz :]

Hello Pixel!

Number 18: "Stop. No. Wake up. Wake up! I said wake up!"

Y'all remember in the season one finale when Draxum threatened to torture the boys for information on the last piece of the Dark Armor? Yeaaahhhhh me too >:)

---

The frigid metal of the cage seeped through Raph's Hamato Clan uniform. He was grateful for the long sleeves, at least.

His head still spun with dizzying visions that only got more and more nonsensical. His dad saying the same thing forwards and backwards. His dad tearing apart the Lair yelling, "I DON'T KNOW WHAT IT IS!" His dad hyperventilating in April's arms, sobbing, "I don't know how to save them."

Raph didn't understand what any of it meant. Why was he the one getting visions?

"Are you guys getting anything?" he ventured at last.

"Nope."

"Nuh uh."

"Negative."

"We've gotta find a way out of here! Hamato style!" Raph got to his feet and the cage swayed. "Come on, what would our ancestors do?"

"We've only been following their ways for like a day and a half, Raph!" Mikey groaned. "We're not exactly experts."

Leo smirked. "Maybe you're not," he teased.

Raph shot him a look. Now was not the time.

"What, I'm just trying to lighten the mood! We're locked in a cage, held for random by the Foot, and none of us gave Dad grandchildren. I doubt a little joking will make things worse."

Nodding, Mikey managed a smile. "Yeah, things could be worse, so let's--"

"You're right, orange one."

The turtles all leapt to their feet at the sound of Baron Draxum's voice.

Donnie let out a strangled sound as Draxum rose up to the cage's level on a tide of magenta vines. Distantly, Raph noted that Don had been quiet in the way he only was when he was really stressed.

"I will give you one chance to tell me where the final piece of the Dark Armor is."

The turtles glanced at each other.

"We don't know," Raph said. It was the simplest and most truthful answer he could give.

"Yeah," Leo added. His mind was clearly whirring behind his red mask. "If we did, why would we be here trying to stop you instead of out protecting it?"

"Indeed," Donnie nodded. "As much as I hate admitting when information eludes me, I will admit that none of us know where the final piece is. Or even what it is."

Donnie's testimony should have been the most concrete proof Draxum needed. The softshell simply couldn't lie.

Softshell...

Raph suddenly became very aware that Donnie's battleshell was at home and Draxum was looking more murderous by the minute.

"You are all LIARS! I KNOW the final piece is under the care of Lou Jitsu of the Hamato Clan!"

"No?" Mikey piped up. "I think we would've known--"

"BUT YOU DO KNOW!" Draxum roared.

Vines slammed into the cage. Everyone fell to their knees as the floor rocked and spun. There was a screech as the door was wrenched open.

Before Raph could react, vines had wrapped around his waist. His eyes met Donnie's widened ones, and then Raph was yanked away.

Weightless. Falling. Air being squeezed out of his lungs.

His fall was slowed slightly by the vine, but Raph could still tell the ground was approaching too fast. He squeezed his eyes shut, bracing for impact.

WHAM

It took only a split second for the agony of slamming into the ground to set in.

His ears rang. He couldn't see anything. An aggressive ache thrummed through his whole body. He couldn't tell what part of him had landed first; the pain came from everywhere.

Raph couldn't breathe.

Lungs flattened, chest crushed, air stolen, whatever had happened left him unable to inhale.

A blurry world around him spun, flickering like a candle.

Everything came back into sharp, slicing focus.

And Raph finally sucked in a breath. And another. And another.

Before he could fully catch said breath, a hoof came down on his chest. Raph focused on Draxum towering above him.

"You're just as durable as I intended you to be. Excellent."

He could head his brothers distantly calling out to him. Raph opened his mouth to say that he was fine, but everything hurt too much to form words.

Draxum stepped off of him. The vine dragged him along the ground. His skin felt raw from the fall, and being scraped along stone made Raph's legs sting. If the pain hadn't been so big, Raph might have been scared.

Draxum didn't drag him far. The room Raph was pulled into had a huge metal door, but Draxum didn't close it.

Noticing Raph's unfocused eyes lingering on it, the sheepman grinned. "I want your brothers to hear your screams. It will be... motivation."

Only then did Raph look around the chamber. Chains sprawled across the floor like tangled tree roots. Metal tables stained in different shades of red and brown rested in corners. One wall was nothing but sharp, spikey tools splattered with the same shades.

Damp musk hung in the air. Like a blow to the gut, it made Raph think of the sewers of his home. It wasn't fair for this place of pain to smell like that. Underneath the haunting aromas of home, however, was something deeper and more primal.

Raph recognized it from the corpse flower.

Rot.

And blood.

The fear had blossomed into terror. The terror was much, much bigger than the pain now.

Raph was shoved against one of the bigger tables. The chill of it bit through his uniform worse than the unforgiving cage had.

Cold metal clamps wound their way around Raph's wrists, ankles, and neck.

Draxum pressed some buttons and a soft buzzing filled the room like a den of dozing wasps.

"H-hey," Raph managed. "Let's, uh, let's talk about this."

"I gave you the chance to talk of your own volition. This was your choice. Let's try this again." Draxum's face lit up in an insane grin. He reached for a lever.

"What are you going to do to me," Raph whispered.

"This."

Draxum yanked the switch down, and for a sick second, Raph was reminded of Donnie playing mad scientist.

The buzzing roared to life. Excruciating pain shot through Raph, thousands of tiny electric needles, as red lightning arched through him.

He couldn't even scream.

Worse than hitting the ground. Worse than than anything he had ever felt.

Worst of all, something deep inside of him was twisting, writing, fighting, tearing apart.

And then it was gone, leaving nothing but aches in its wake.

"Awful, isn't it?"

Raph let out a pitiful noise like a tiny wounded animal.

"I made you, you ungrateful brute. I know exactly how much pressure I must apply to break you. Tell me where the Dark Armor is."

"I don't know," Raph whimpered. "None of us know."

Draxum's fingers wrapped around the lever again. "If that's what you choose."

Crimson lightning, like bloody sparks shot through him again. Raph couldn't move. Pinned in place by pain, all he could do was feel his muscles spasm. Surely, they were shriveling, tearing from his bones.

He could feel the places where the metal touched him burning burning burning burning--

Whatever it was inside of him that was wailing in agony was dying. He could feel it. Trembling apart and leaving a void behind.

"Please," Raph rasped.

When it was over again, there were tears flowing down Raph's face and smoke curling off of his uniform.

He could barely breathe with unyielding metal circling his throat.

"You know how to get it to stop."

"Please..."

"This really is quite the marvelous contraption. You see, it runs off of mystic power. Your very own mystical energy is being drained and repurposed as electricity. I'm sure your the purple one could explain the laws of energy to you."

He already had. Energy cannot be created or destroyed. Only transformed.

Raph missed his brother.

"All this can be over if you just tell me what you know, turtle."

"Raph doesn't know! It's lost. Please... please make it stop." A sob bubbled out of Raph. Everything hurt.

He twitched as a random zap of energy cut through him.

"Liar."

Draxum wrenched the lever.

Now that Raph knew what was happening, it was even worse. He could feel his ninpo cracking. Cold loneliness flooded his chest as his connection to his family wanted.

Agony.

Sharp, angry TV static filled his limbs. Parts of his suit were burning away.

Through it all, the the horrific, overwhelming pain only worsened.

Raph was screaming.

It burned his throat even more, but he couldn't help it.

And yet it kept going.

On and on and on.

Make it stop.

Make it stop.

MAKE IT STOP.

Millions of miles away, he heard the switch flip. But the lightning continued to envelop him. The pain continued to ricochet through his shell.

Raph convulsed, straining and slamming against the restraints despite the awful stinging where he'd been burned.

Finally, he sagged back against the table. Horrible, gasping, ugly sobs were torn from his raw throat. Hot tears flowed down his face, pooling in his ears.

Raph was drained in every sense of the word. Cold darkness had swallowed his lungs. He was more alone than he had ever been in his life.

And absolutely

EVERYTHING

every bone, blood vessel, and cell of his body

hurt.

At the other end of a long tunnel, Draxum's voice echoed back to him. "...aybe your brothers will."

No!

But Raph couldn't say it. He could barely even think it.

The inky void welling behind his plastron spilled into his vision. Raph's eyes were so heavy... so heavy...

He twitched, feeling the dregs of ninpo within him try to rekindle itself.

And for the second time, Raph fell.

Down

Down

Down

Down

Down

---

The agonized wails of Donnie's older brother were magnified a thousand times as they echoed off the walls.

Gutteral, desperate screams that made Donnie sick to his stomach were made even worse by the knowledge that they were Raph's.

Raph. Infallible, immovable, incredible.

Raph. Sobbing, screaming, shrieking.

Never in all of Donnie's life had he heard his older brother sound like this.

Mikey had long since retreated into his shell, his Hamato uniform pulling and folding in weird ways. Leo sat with his knees pulled up to his chest and his eyes wide. Unseeing. Donnie sat next to Mikey with his hands pressed over his ears.

It did nothing to stop the third round of screams.

Playtime was over.

Their time parading around the city, skating and laughing and pretending to be heros was over.

Innocence rocked, worldview shattered, there was nothing they could do to fix such a broken situation.

Raph went quiet.

Not silent, thankfully; Donnie could still hear gasping sobs.

Leo was clutching his chest. "I feel it," he whispered. "He's doing something to- to Raph's powers."

Mikey let out a strangled cry from inside his shell.

"Mikey must feel it too," Leo said softly. Donnie had never heard him speak so flatly. It was unnerving. "You're lucky you can't feel it, Don."

"No I'm not," Donnie whispered. Even as he said it, he thought Leo might be wrong. The tightness in his chest wasn't like normal anxiety. It ran deeper.

Draxum bellowed something and they all flinched.

The echoes of his booming voice faded away...

Silence.

Unnerving, imperfect silence.

CLANG!

Without warning, vines wrapped around the bars of the cage. Leo and Donnie yelled, startled.

The door wrenched open and one of them wrapped around Mikey's quivering shell, pulling him away.

"MIKEY!" Leo leaped after him, grabbing fistfuls of fabric as he dangled over the drop. Donnie reached out after them--

Something huge and heavy slammed into Donnie, forcing him back into the cage. The door clanged shut. Pinned beneath a mass of singed fabric, Donnie could only hear the pleas of Leo and the muffled cries of Mikey fade away.

As Donnie wiggled out from under the motionless mountain, he realized--

"Raph!"

Donnie scrambled to his knees, looking over his older brother as best he could.

It wasn't great.

Raph's neck and wrists looked raw and shiny, and the fabric around them had definitely been burned away. One eye was swollen and Donnie had a nasty feeling there would be bruises already blooming under his mask. Under the scraps of remaining suit was probably a mess too. Raph had fallen a LONG way.

And then Donnie realized Raph wasn't moving.

Donnie shook his shoulder. "Raph? Raph, wake up. Wake up! No no no no no, don't do this to me, Raphael! Raph! RAPH!"

He was breathing at least... Shallowly. Raggedly. Practically wheezing.

"Oh I wish Nardo were here. He'd know what to do. The dumb dumb jumped out after Michael." Donnie dragged his hands over his face. To be fair, he'd rather Mikey not be totally alone. So maybe it was good Leo was with him. Or maybe watching each other get hurt would be even worse...

Donnie tried to take a deep breath.

"This is a mess," he whispered. "It wasn't supposed to go like this. Oh my brownie we're going to die here. He's going to kill us over withholding information we literally don't know--!"

A large hand weakly closed around Donnie's wrist.

"Raph? Raph ohmigosh you're awake! Are you okay? What happened? How do you feel? What hurts?"

But Raph didn't answer. His breathing deepened and his grip tightened. Maybe that was all he had the energy for. Raph, who must have been in so much pain and so incredibly exhausted... was using what little energy he had to comfort Donnie. A lump formed in Donnie s throat.

He didn't have any words to offer. Not for comfort, not for empty promises, not for vows or revenge. Nothing.

He took his free hand, the one not being squeezed by Raph, and softly rubbed his older brother's head.

"I've got you, Raphie. Just... just rest, okay?"

A soft whine of gratitude rose from Raph's chest, melting into deeper breathing.

Donnie refused to look too closely at what had been done to his brother. He wasn't sure he could handle it. Helpless, he just kept rubbing Raph's head.

There was nothing else he could do.

The cruel mockery of a peaceful moment was shattered an instant later as a new, equally painful sound split the air.

Mikey was screaming.

[lee1504]

"i fell in love the way you fall asleep; slowly, then all at once" - the fault in our stars, john green

(context: this is when they're a bit older, maybe juniors in HS)

Why did Tyler agree to let Aiden come to his house?

He could feel his eyes on him as he entered his and Taylor's shared room, kicking some of his clothes off his floor, clearing the room. He didn't know that Taylor would be with Ben, Logan and Ashlyn today. He didn't know that he would be by himself.

With Aiden.

He could hear Aiden shuffling around behind him. He felt self conscious. He knew Aiden was rich, and that his family was extremely wealthy, so what was the Hernandez house compared to his? A shed?

"Cool place," Aiden commented. He glanced at Tyler's bed, the bottom bunk. "Mind if I sit?"

Tyler shrugged in return. "I don't really care. Just don't make a mess."

"Okay."

Tyler watched as Aiden sat down, crossing his legs and setting his bag down next to him. He continued looking around, starting to ask questions.

"What's that?" Aiden pointed to the corkboard that hung over Taylor's mirror, with pictures pinned to the material.

"That's just Taylor's pictures. She likes taking them."

Aiden hopped off his bed, striding towards the board. He gently took one picture off, then examined it. "I remember this," he said. He held up the photo. Tyler blinked. "This was when we were using my pool, right?"

"Yeah. I remember that, too," Tyler said. He sat down at his desk chair, watching the other boy to make sure he wouldn't steal or take anything. Not that he would, he just wanted to make sure.

He found himself staring at Aiden's hair, the way it turned golden as sunlight bounced off of it through the window.

He quickly looked away before he could get caught. He cleared his throat, softly. How long was he going to stay, anyway?

"...Do you want anything to eat? Drink?" Tyler spoke up. Aiden was still looking at the pictures, but turned his head slightly, glancing at him.

"Do you have water?"

Tyler nodded. "Yeah. Yeah, I do." He stood. "Uh...I'll go get some. Just don't-don't take anything. I'll be right back."

He left his room, entering their small kitchen. He pulled out a mismatched cup from one of the cabinets, then heading to the sink to fill it up.

He leaned against the opposite counter, watching. Even though his eyes was on the glass, his mind was on someone else.

Why did Aiden have to come to his house today? He looked so bright, out of place in Tyler's normally gloomy house, as if he was his own personal sun.

He was so obnoxious, too. Sitting on his bed, taking the pictures from his board...everything Aiden did seemed to be related to Tyler.

His face was warm. Was it warm in here? Tyler snapped back to reality, glancing st the water. He lurched towards the sink, quickly turning it off before the glass could overflow.

Why did Tyler always think about him?

Why was he always thinking about him?

He mumbled something under his breath as he took the cup back to his room, face still warm. He could hear Aiden speaking. Who was he talking to?

"I'm back. Here's your--" He froze, his hand on the doorknob. Aiden sat at Tyler's desk, books piled next to him at the table. His eyes widened slightly as more heat rushed to his face. Aiden didn't seem to notice though.

"You know you're in love when you can't fall asleep because reality is finally better than your dreams. Dr Seuss," Aiden said, reading from one if the pages. He closed the book, reaching for another. "I fell in love the way you fall asleep; slowly, then all at once. John Green." He glanced up, finally taking notice of Tyler.

"What are you doing?" Tyler asked, voice shaking slightly. He trembled slightly, making the glass of water in his hand shake. His eyes darted to the books, then back to Aiden's face. He could tell his own face was beet red.

"Some of these were open," Aiden replied, as if that was an actual answer. He wasn't smiling, but his eyes were bright, as usual. Finally, after what seemed an eternity, Aiden smiled. It was soft, unlike the usual, almost unsettling ones he did. It looked strange on him. "You're blushing," he said.

Tyler scowled, quickly averting his eyes. He glared at the floor. "Whatever," he mumbled. His eyes drifted back to Aiden's rust-red ones. "Here." He walked forward, setting the glass on his desk before beginning to gather the books into his arms. "Don't snoop around my room, okay?" he muttered.

Even though his eyes were trained on the books, Tyler could still feel Aiden's eyes on him. He was strangely quiet.

"You're blushing."

Tyler's scowl deepened, as if that wasn't already obvious. He turned away, setting the books onto his bed.

"Stop watching me," Tyler grumbled.

Aiden ignored his words. "Why'd you highlight those phrases? Like, 'I fell in love the way you fall asleep' and stuff like that?"

Tyler hesitated. Was Aiden going to make fun of him? Or was he going to be serious for once?

"It...was a project," Tyler replied quietly. He wasn't sure if Aiden heard him. "Just...something I was working on..." He trailed off.

Aiden waited for a moment, before saying, "But why those phrases?"

Tyler stayed quiet. His eyes slowly went to Aiden, who was watching him.

He never realized how pretty a boy can be. His hair was golden, and his eyes were lit by the sunlight. He was still short, maybe a head or so shorter than him.

Tyler swallowed nervously. Taylor had been pestering him for the past weeks, asking him why he was acting weird around the others--and mostly Aiden. He remembered something she'd told him, about how maybe his feelings for Aiden weren't just friendly.

About how maybe Tyler might've had a crush on him.

Tyler swallowed nervously.

"it was just a project." He hesitated, then added, "Something for you."

Aiden's eyes widened slightly in surprise. "What?"

"A song," Tyler mumbled. "But whatever. It's nothing."

He felt something brush against his hand. Aiden's pinky touched Tyler's thumb, causing him to shiver slightly. He looked down at him.

"That's a bad idea," Aiden said, this time half-grinning. Tyler didn't know if he was joking or not. "You know I'm not a good person."

Tyler scoffed. "Of course you are. Everyone's a good person."

Aiden was quiet, then spoke again. "That's what you think." He looked up at Tyler, craning his head. "I like you."

Tyler wasn't sure he heard him right. "What?"

"I like you," Aiden said again. "Like, a lot." He paused, seeming to think for a moment. "I kind of want to kiss you."

Tyler's heart skipped a beat. "Wait--what are you talking about?"

"I want to kiss you," Aiden repeated. "Is that okay? Can I?"

Tyler's heart was thumping again. Maybe this time Aiden could hear it.

Maybe Taylor was right.

Maybe Tyler did have a crush on him.

"Okay," he said.

Aiden smiled. He leaned up on his toes, pressing his lips softly against Tyler's. His breath hitched. He could feel Aiden's hand cup his cheek.

Suddenly, Tyler understood what the passage from his book, The Fault in Our Stars, actually meant.

I fell in love--it didn't matter if he was in love, or if he just had a simple crush. He liked Aiden, and that was perfectly fine.

The way you fall asleep; slowly, then all at once--he didn't realize how long his feelings for Aiden had been buried underneath his heart, how long it had been hidden in his brain.

But now, with his lips pressed against the other boy's, he knew that he was all that mattered.

[steelthroat]

I think it was a year ago circa... I probably already talked about this work

I started writing what was supposed to be a sound/op post war slice of life slowburn fanfiction and at some point Megatrom came in the picture without me planning it.

He was supposed to show up and vanish relatively quickly but then I made him and Soundwave go on a date by mistake. Because I was writing Megatron so charming and suave he basically seduced ME into writing him wooing Soundwave.

And I remember looking at the word document and say... "okay now I have to change everything" because my dumbass brain forgot about poliamory so I just abandoned everything and forgot it existed.

And now, looking back at it, it's just such a weird story ahahahahah.

[primalmagic]

can someone explain

why there are only like, FIVE benlor-centric fics on ao3?? guys i know its not the most popular ship but i could have sworn it was a little more popular than that 😭

[lauronk]

can i make a fic about jellyfish just as long as a fic about plants?

well i'm sure as shit gonna try

[legendoftherisingtide]

i haven’t drawn deku and bakugou in like a year tbh. but it’s getting bad bro. i was doodling bakudeku on my notes and freaking out with thoughts. like girl it’s not even worth it bc i haven’t drawn them in so long and they look so ugly— BUT I COULDNT STOP,, SOMEONE CONFISCATE MY PENCIL

[sunnyisinsane]

Six-Sentence Sunday

Thank you for the tag @bcbdrums :)))

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

Sitting in silence, it can be unnerving with anyone else but it's a blessing when it's with this man. There are a myriad of reasons for that but for now I pull his tie too close to me and stare at those fearful eyes longer than I should. The smell of alcohol mixing with Isopropyl, it's one of my favorite smells aside from nicotine now.

The red head smirks but says nothing, I don't need anything but silence; seeing him is the most gratifying thing I could imagine. My fragile mind, it seems to worsen when I'm around him. I turn the screw lodged in my head, Spirit grimaces, I suppose that's something he'll never get over too. Either way it's my fault, it always is.

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

THHHEREEE I WROTE SOMETHING!!!!!;!!! I uh. Don't really wanna tag anyone, if you see this and you write shit you're legally obligated to do this pretend I tagged you specifically. Also didn't do EXACTLY six I did SEVEN

[sithbelle]

You know, writing fan fiction is way harder than writing OC content in my opinion.

With my characters, their quirks and feats are malleable, and I can move the story to flow along with them.

When I'm working with a pre-established canon, The facts and characters are set in stone, and I have to do a delicate dance to make sure that what I'm writing fits in.

It's fun, but it's definitely a challenge.

All this to say, those who prefer to write fanfics... Bravo! I admire your skills.

[pastriibunz]

Quatervois - Emma’s Perspective

Paring: Emma Perkins + Kai Drew (platonic)

Warnings: major spoilers for TKWDLM

Summary: (n.) a crossroads; a critical decision or turning point in one’s life | Emma’s perspective of Kai and the events of the apocalypse.

Jane often talked about Tim.

And having a kid, overall.

She loved being a mother.

I never understood.

Kids just seemed like a nuisance.

You raise them for 18 years, and you just have to hope you did enough so that they come out okay and don’t become a total screw up/douchebag/creep/etc.

It seemed like a lot.

And it just seemed like an overall annoyance.

So, I decided a long time ago that I was never having kids.

I was fine with that.

I’d just be the cool aunt or whatever.

I never wanted to be a mom.

But things change.

Especially when a dorky 12 17 year old girl with the world’s brightest teal hair heads up to your counter.

Her order was simple.

Anything with caramel, and make it extra.

I could do that.

And then she tipped me.

I hated that tip jar and the stupid ‘tip for a song’ policy.

I didn’t want to sing just so I could make, what, less than 25 cents after the split?

That’s less than a fucking jukebox!

But, I had to do the singing thing. I needed this job to work my way through college.

Jane would want that, right?

So I did the stupid fucking singing thing.

I half assed it. Nora didn’t say I had to sound good. There was my loophole. I had hoped this kid wouldn’t get too pissed and ask for the manager or something. I did not have the patience for that.

But the kid didn’t.

She clapped like it was the best thing she had ever heard.

I was confused. Especially when she said I did great.

She seemed so happy. She even said she had tips for me. Ones that she said she’d keep to herself.

Usually I’d just laugh it off awkwardly, thank her for the compliment, give her the coffee she ordered and send her on her way.

But something inside me said not to let her go.

I don’t know what it was. 

But I listened

So I let her share her singing tips with me.

And she was so passionate about it.

It was adorable.

And I dunno, something just…

…unlocked in me.

The only thought in my head was:

“That’s yours.”

“That’s your kid.”

And who was I to fight it?

She was mine the moment she walked into the coffee shop.

I got her name before she left.

Kai Drew.

Cute name for a cute kid.

She said she should leave, so she wouldn’t hold up the line.

It was sweet how considerate she was.

I didn’t care about the line.

This kid was way more important than whatever those guys needed.

But it was fine.

She could’ve leave if she wanted.

Would I like it?

No.

But I wouldn’t ever like it, so I just had to learn to work with it.

So she left.

I just had to hope she’d be back.

…

And she was.

The very next day.

My favorite little customer walked in through that door.

I understand why Jane would always talk about Tim now.

I wouldn’t be able to shut up about Kai, either.

My only regret is not knowing her earlier.

I sang for her. I was technically required to, so I could keep my job, but I’d like to think I made it special for her.

She loved it.

Of course she did.

She said it was “real grand.”

The best compliment I’ve ever gotten.

She didn’t even need to ask for her drink.

I knew what she wanted.

Same thing as yesterday.

She seemed like the type to have a specific order.

And she was!

She sat happily in the corner, waiting for her coffee.

It would’ve been a great day.

If not for Paul.

Well, it wasn’t his fault.

He just brought to light that our lives were in danger.

I didn’t believe him until I saw it firsthand.

He wanted to run.

I stayed.

Something that the thing that used to be Zoey had said sang.

“We got a triple for you!”

It had caught me off guard.

There was only me and Paul, wouldn’t that be double?

Then her little voice spoke.

“Oh! Coffee’s cool!”

She was safe.

“Welp, Bottoms up!”

But clearly not for long.

My brain went blank, and the one thought in my head was:

“Protect your daughter.”

And so I did.

And I continued to.

Sure, she was technically old enough to take care of herself.

But that didn’t stop me from keeping her safe.

In my eyes, she was a baby.

My baby.

And I didn’t want her hurt.

And I sure as hell didn’t want her dead.

I felt like I needed to protect her.

To hold her in my arms, shielding her from the world. 

I wanted to hold her close and never let go.

I’d protect her with my life.

And if I couldn’t, I made sure someone else would.

And if she went out alone?

I’d panic.

I wasn’t a mess, but I was close. 

I just reminded myself she could hold her own. 

That she was almost an adult, she could take care of herself.

But still.

She was my baby.

I don’t think I’d ever not be scared for her.

I love her, after all.

I finally understand why Jane loved being a mom so much.

I finally understand why people want to be parents.

I love Kai so, so much.

She’s like if you packed all the happiness in the world into one adorable little human being.

She’s my universe.

I love her more than anything.

I just want her to be safe.

…

But of course she couldn’t.

I knew something was up.

I knew it.

I was right to panic.

I had to sprint over.

I didn’t care if I had a pole straight through my leg.

My baby was in danger.

If she was hurting, so was I.

I wouldn’t be okay if she wasn’t okay.

I wouldn’t get better if she wasn’t safe.

It was like a sixth sense, knowing if she was safe or not.

Maybe that was the maternal instincts that Jane had always talked about.

That was besides the point.

I just want my baby to be okay.

She was singing.

She was being forced to sing by that fucking blue shit.

No, no, no.

Not my baby.

She’ll only sing when she wants to, not because some stupid fucking alien infection forces her to.

She’s strong.

Stronger than anyone I know.

She can fight it.

I know she can.

I love her so much.

She can’t die on me.

I refuse to let that happen.

Parents aren’t supposed to see their children die first.

It’s not supposed to happen.

There’s a reason there’s a word for a child who lost their parents, and not a word for a parent who’s lost their child.

It’s not supposed to happen.

And it’s sure as hell not gonna happen to me.

Not to my baby.

Please.

I just want her to be safe.

…

She destroyed the meteor.

Good on her.

But I don’t care.

Fuck the goddamn meteor, is my kid okay?!

Nothing is worth it if she isn’t safe.

Life isn’t worth living if my baby isn’t okay.

…

Oh- oh yes!

There’s my girl!

There’s my beautiful baby girl!

She did it!

We did it!

We won!

We won!

She’s okay, she’s safe, she’s-

…

That’s not her.

That’s not my baby.

What happened to my baby?

WHAT THE FUCK DID THEY DO TO MY BABY?!

No, no, no, no.

She’s fine.

This is all some sick joke.

She’s fine.

Why is Paul trying to leave?!

I’m not leaving!

I’m not leaving without my baby!

She’s-

…

She’s infected.

But-

But she’s still in there.

She just needs to snap out of it.

Give her back.

Please, God.

Don’t take her away from me.

Not when I just started to like being a mom.

…

…What’s she doing?

Wait.

WAIT.

NO.

NO NO NO NO NO.

NO!

KAI, DONT YOU DARE-

…

…My baby.

Oh, god, no.

Not my baby.

No.

Please.

Please, God.

Please let her wake up.

Give me my baby back.

Please.

I just want my baby back.

I just want her to wake up.

…

…That’s not her.

What the fuck- 

What the fuck did they do to her?!

She needs help.

We need help.

Why won’t anyone help us?!

SOMEONE HELP US!

…

…Nobody’s coming to help us.

Nobody’s coming to save us.

My baby is dead.

My daughter is dead.

Kai is dead.

Oh, god.

We lost.

[gentil-minou]

Xiantober Day 9 - Training

Training in the Burial Mounds is different from anywhere else he's trained before.

As Wei Wuxian chomps on another stray bone he's trying desperately not to think about, sucking with all his might for a bit of protein to quiet his aching stomach, empty of more than just food now.

After weeks (Months? Years? Impossible to tell time in a place day can't reach) spent without a core, he can just about pretend he's grown used to it. Even if he knows these frigid nights would be more manageable with a ball of bright burning energy inside.

It's fine, he won't be here for much longer. He's perfected both Chenqing and the Tiger Tally, as much as they can be in a damp cave with limited resources. He's become quite adept at creating with nothing but spare parts and ingenuity. Attempting the impossible, indeed.

Every place Wei Wuxian has trained in has had unique features of its own.

Yunmeng, where drive and comradery were second only to physical prowess and cultivation skills. Where he'd spent each day laughing with his fellow disciples as they found new ways to learn freely.

Contrasted with the Cloud Recesses, where rigidity and structure held precedence. Where rather than memorization or physical strength, Wei Wuxian trained his mind, finding loopholes and weaknesses in outdated theories.

Where he was properly challenged for the first time, by a boy so beautiful it was training just to resist the urge to chase after him. A skill Wei Wuxian happily declined to practice.

Both Lotus Pier and the Cloud Recesses had their benefits and frustrations, but there's one glaring absence Wei Wuxian misses most in the Burial Mounds.

Life.

He's grown used to being one of the few living things here, for he isn't completely alone. Besides the vengeful spirits, there are insects and rodents that have strayed far from home. Mangled and dying, but surviving none the less by sheer force of will. He understands in a way.

Training in the Burial Mounds is being surrounded by darkness and shadows, with a constantly slew of cruel whispers and ridicules the instant he fails or makes the smallest mistake. It's being surrounded by misery and hatred, feeling it flood his lungs and drown his insides.

But Wei Wuxian knows well the feeling of holding resentment and letting it go, of pushing hatred away to embrace love. Of feeling love overflow it. And that's what he uses here to take the resentment that swirls around him.

He uses his infinite love to listen to the spirits, to give them a voice where theirs was so cruelly stripped away. He listens with a kind ear, and lets the feelings claw inside him for the sake of these spirits giving him a chance, a way to fight. To protect.

Training in the Burial Mounds is its own battle, one he fights not with swords and talismans, but with love and patience.

A new challenge, one he battles even as it it slips inside and threatens to tear him apart.

But it's okay, because he can. Because he will. Because he needs to.

Soon, he thinks, soon I will leave this place. Soon I will avenge those who were wronged. Soon, I will do what I need to protect everyone.

He just needs to get through one more night.

The bone in his hand snaps in half, brittle and empty, but the fire in his eyes burns bright with life that shines in the dark and dreary Burial Mounds.

(threadfic here)

[hollywoodsargeant]

for the wip words thing: 'hand' maybe???

hand pops up a lot bc they are always touching each other but this one was the most enticing i think

That train of thought is interrupted when he feels someone move next to him. Like there’s— another fucking person in his bed, a hand pressing knuckles into the very bottom of his rib cage. “Why’re you awake?” the—stranger, or something—says from next to him, and the first thing about it Oscar processes is male and American accent, and then his brain supplies him with an image of Logan Sargeant, and he has to close his eyes and shut that thought up before it gets too big.

the stranger is kyle kirkwood

[softgrungeprophet]

man i really need to get on the current F4 run, it seems like a lot of fun, ryan north is very funny, and the alex ross covers are, as they say, banger

[inkling0121]

*deep heavy sigh* I miss writing

[alsaurus-loves-dean]

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