#you know my plan wasn't to only write snippets from this au for this prompt month but at this rate we're just gonna get thirty days of THIS

[ninja-knox-ur-sox-off]

Day 3: Patience/Focus

Prompt List

 Pt. 3 of The Empire of Samadhi AU

Pt. 1 | Pt. 2 | Pt. 3 (you are here) | Pt. 4

Wordcount: 3k

Summary: Red Son is the son of an old empire, Mei is the daughter of a new one. Red Son, consumed by fire, was put into an induced stasis sleep to stop the world from burning until his family can find a way to safely remove the fire. They find a way but he never wakes up. Hundreds of years later he awakes to discover his power resides within another as she stares at him with wide eyes on fire.

To wield the fire of Samadhi requires focus. To survive around such idiocy, Red Son requires more patience than he practised whilst creating said fire of Samadhi. But before that, Mk wakes up with a spider on his nose.  

Mk woke up warm. 

He hadn’t been warm in a long time. 

Well, honestly he hadn’t really woken up in a long time. It was all muffled sounds, freezing cold and blurry bits of scenes unfolding in front of him here and there while he was unable to move or think clearly. It was… weird to be warm and be able to twitch his fingers without first being told to. But… nice. He really thought it was a dream at first. 

He could hear muffled voices, two of them. One familiar and one not. His body ached despite the warmth as he slowly gained consciousness. His vision started out a little blurry when he opened his eyes, then adjusted after a few moments and he was greeted with a small black spider sitting on his nose. 

Mk screamed. 

He was already halfway up the cave wall, cramming himself into a space he could fit by the time Someone came running in, fire flickering around them. They looked around wildly, alarmed, fists clenched and guard up. 

“Mk!” 

The voice was loud and panicked and Mk would recognize it anywhere. 

“Mei!” 

He didn’t really think before he was practically launching himself off the cavern wall and at his best friend. He realized maybe it wasn’t the best course of action when he noticed how high up he’d been--and when he processed the fact she was on fire--but by then it was too late. 

Mei yelped as he slammed into her from above and they both went crashing to the ground in a tangle of limbs, rings and fire. 

Fire filled the cavern in a small, startled explosion. Mk’s skin burned with a distant memory of pain he couldn’t place the origin of, but before long it was clear the flames weren’t actually touching him. Despite the realization his breathing still came more shallowly than usual for some reason. 

Mei grabbed his hand and pulled him through the smoke and flames to the mouth of the cavern. Mk shielded his eyes and gripped back tightly, the warmth of her hand seeping into his fingers and even up his arm. She was really there. 

They stumbled out coughing. 

“What is wrong with you people?” came an incredulous voice, one Mk didn’t recognize. 

He glanced up, coughing and waving away smoke to try and see who it was coming from. 

“Oh!” Mk said when he saw him. “Hello! You’re really scary looking!” 

And he was pretty scary looking. With hair about as red as it could get, like, ripe tomato red, or maybe hot pepper red. It was reminiscent of many of the vegetables and different fruits he had seen in Pigsy’s kitchen over the years. He was dressed like Mk remembered his Shifu’s distant ancestor dressing in paintings and books. The clothes of a king, or maybe a prince or emperor, unmarred and pristine aside from it being a little dusty with streaks of ash and soot. His scowl was probably the scariest thing. That and his eyes, dark enough to be compared to coal, with just as little life in them. Honestly he looked like he was missing something very important, though Mk couldn’t begin to tell what it was. A smile maybe? 

The man before him puffed out his chest a bit, looking almost proud. “Well at least someone knows I-” 

“Don’t mind him,” Mei said to him dismissively, “he’s a big ol softie. He’d faint if we held hands in front of him.” 

He spluttered. “I would not-” 

“Oh,” said Mk, beaming. “Well, that’s a relief! It’s nice to meet you then, mister.” 

The man spluttered. 

Mei held up their intertwined hands for the man to see, grinning widely. “Look, grandpa. Holding hands.”

The man's entire face went nearly as red as his hair. He spat curses at them as he turned around and stomped away, kicking up ash as he went. 

“Um…” said Mk. “He seems nice.” 

“You get used to him,” Mei shrugged. She squeezed his hand lightly and glanced at him. “You okay?” 

Mk blinked. “Huh? Oh, yeah, I’m good. Uh… how are you?” 

Mei laughed. 

At first, Mk was going to start laughing along with her, despite his confusion. But then he realized it was different from her normal laugh. It wasn’t light or giggly. It lacked that unrestrained joy that always erupted from her when she laughed. It was drenched in heavy, heavy relief. The shaky kind of relief that Mk had felt after a close brush with death during training. 

Then it stuttered. 

His best friend in the whole world sucked in a shuddering breath, and suddenly she was crying. Her voice was shaking between a laugh and a sob as she pulled him into a hug and held on so tightly and crushing that it made it hard to breathe. 

“Mei?” He choked out. “Are you okay?” His voice was muffled by her shoulder and a piece of her hair got in his mouth. He half-spat half-blew it out of his mouth. He made a mildly grossed out noise. “Ew, ew, hair in my mouth-” 

Her next laugh was torn from her like a sob and he could feel it through his entire body. 

She gripped him tighter. 

Something wasn’t right here. 

“Mei?” 

She only buried her face in his shoulder, her entire frame trembling. Mk could feel the heat from her and from the rings hovering above them. They were heavy. It almost felt like massive weights hovering over them, threatening to crash down and crush them. 

With her hair out of the way Mk glanced up to look at the angry red-haired man questioningly, but whatever he was going to ask died in his throat before he could even lay eyes on him. For the first time, he saw beyond the cavern and the people in front of him. 

And there was nothing but black. 

Nothing but a desolate wasteland of ashes as far as he could see. 

Mk gripped Mei back tightly, knees suddenly feeling like jello. 

“What… What happened?” 

Mei held him tighter still and all Mk could do was glance at the angry man with a lost look. 

The man rolled his eyes at him. “Don’t look at me, peasant. I’m not the one with the fire.” 

Mk glanced at his best friend in his arms and startled as he saw his hands for the first time. 

Burns stretched over his fingers, his hands, small ones, and bad ones that looked like they would never ever go away. 

Mk let out a small choked sound. 

“What-?”

“I’m sorry, Mk,” Mei choked out between sobs. “I’m sorry-” 

Mk wasn't sure what was happening, what had happened. He didn’t know where they were or who they were with or why his hands and everything around them was burned, or why he was afraid to look at the rest of himself, or why the clothes he was wearing felt scratchy and uncomfortable and unfamiliar. He didn’t know what the rings were floating over their head or why the fire in the cave hadn’t burned him. He didn’t know why he could only remember being cold for so long, or why now he felt warmer than ever. He didn’t know why a tiny part of him buried away in his chest felt nervous near his best friend. 

Mk didn’t know what was happening, but the one thing he did know is that his best friend was crying. His best friend was crying and needed him right now. That was something he could understand just fine. 

He hugged her back just as tight, squeezing until she could feel like her shaking sobs were steadied by his arms. “It's okay,” he said. “It's okay, Mei, I’m here.” 

He held her tightly and Mei fell apart in his arms. 

Mei and her friend talked just outside the mouth of the cave for a long time. Far too long in Red Son’s opinion. They had places to be. But when he’d attempted to tell the Dragon girl that, she’d actually snarled at him. Her friend’s hand on hers seemed to be the only thing that stopped her from actually trying to barbeque him. 

The amount of patience he required just being around the two of them was already exhausting. He missed the days he could simply incinerate annoying people like them. 

Eventually they stopped talking. After Mei had stopped crying. After Mk had stopped crying. After they had both stopped clinging to each other like children and crying, they finally approached him, still holding hands in a disgusting display of affection. 

“Teach me,” Mei said. 

“No,” Red Son said, crossing his arms over his chest. 

“Please?” Mk said, shuffling in place. He didn’t seem to know what to do with his free hand so he tapped it on the side of his leg awkwardly, arm swinging out away from him a bit after every tap. He was such a strange one. There was something about him, Red Son couldn’t put his finger on it, but it made him suspicious. 

“No,” Red Son snarled again, this time with more venom. It was highly entertaining to watch Mk flinch, up until he glanced at Mei and saw absolute murder in her eyes. Red Son cleared his throat and looked away. “I’m not teaching you anything.” 

“You taught me how to use the fire to save Mk,” Mei pointed out, infuriatingly correct. 

“That’s different,” Red Son hissed out. “You weren’t fighting, so I did what I had to.”

“Well,” said Mk, chiming in in the most annoying way possible. “Wouldn't it be easier to get places if Mei knew how to use the…” he faltered a bit, glancing up at the rings hovering above Mei’s head. One of them was nearly directly over his head. Red Son narrowed his eyes and watched how Mk’s grip on Mei’s hand tightened. She squeezed back which seemed to give Mk enough steadiness to continue. “I just mean if we run into any other problems it would be better if one of us with big ol’ world-destroying power knew how to use it.” 

He made a good point. A horrible good one. Good enough that it made Red Son grind his teeth and dig his nails into his arms until it hurt. 

“It’s my fire,” Red Son said through gritted teeth. He missed the way his hair would flame up when he felt this way. He missed how his eyes would spark and people would stumble away, terrified of his power. As it was, the two in front of him simply stood, unphased. Mk was the only one looking even the slightest bit uncomfortable. 

“Duh,” Mei said, rolling her eyes at him. “But if any of us die you won’t be getting your fire back-” 

“The only one here capable of dying,” said Red Son, “is your friend here.” Mk flinched. Red Son pretended not to feel satisfied by it. 

“Alright, your highness,” Mei said suddenly, releasing Mk’s hand and stepping forward. Although he’d suggested she call him your highness on several different occasions, the way she said it was devoid of any real respect. The rings above her got hotter and brighter, the fire lashing and reflecting in her eyes from within. “You shut up and listen. If you die, you won’t get your fire cause you’ll be dead. If I die, you won’t get your fire because everything will probably burn to nothing. And if Mk dies you can kiss your sweet fire goodbye because I will burn you and everything else myself if anything happens to my best friend, got it?”

Truly, her tone was something reminiscent of Red Son’s mothers. Threatening, scolding and terrifying all at once. 

Red Son very nearly took a step back. 

He cleared his throat. “Well… I suppose things would go… faster if you were not quite so useless.” 

“Right,” Mei said, crossing her arms, unamused. 

Red Son straightened up, keeping his chin tilted up. “I am not doing this because you tried to threaten me.” 

“Of course not,” Mei said dryly. 

Red Son bristled. “Whatever, dragon girl. Pull yourself away from your friend and I’ll show you how not to be a useless sack.” 

“Thanks, grandpa!” Mei chirped, quite suddenly smiling brightly. She skipped back to Mk and took his hand in hers once again, giving it a reassuring squeeze. 

Red Son scoffed.

“Um, yes, thank you Mister uh… Mister…” Mk trailed off, looking a little lost. 

Red Son groaned. He tilted his head back for just a moment to pray for the long-suffering patience required to hold a conversation with these uncultured peasants. “The Demon of Samdhi. Or at least I’m told by your friend that it is now my title.” 

Mk jolted. His head snapped up and he gaped at Red Son. 

“Wait- you’re… you’re-” 

Mei patted his shoulder. “Oooo… Yeah… I forgot to mention. Um. Mk…this is… well, the Demon of Samadhi!” She paused then waved her free hand back and forth. “Surprise…aha….” 

Mk made a small choking sound. He looked quite pale. “M…Mei are you sure um… are you sure traveling with the… him is a good idea…?” He nervously glanced back at him. 

Red Son bared his teeth at him in a wide grin. Mk took a step back. 

It was horribly satisfying. 

At least until Mei shoved her hand into his face to cover it and shoved him down out of Mk’s sight, completely ignoring his indignant cursing and outrage. “Ah, don’t worry about him. He’s a big softie.” 

“I will kill you,” Red Son hissed. 

“See?” Mei said. “Softie.” 

“Oh,” said Mk, like he had complete faith in Mei’s judgment of character. “Phew, that’s a relief. Glad to have you on our side Mr. Demon of Samadhi!” 

“I am not on your side-” Red Son attempted to choke out to no avail. They completely ignored him. 

“Well, Sifu,” Mei said. “When do we start?”  “When you get your hand off my face.”

“Samadhi is a meditation and a form of concentrated focus. Its meaning is a form of… bringing things together. I harnessed it to create the most concentrated form of fire that exists in this world.” 

Mei sat cross legged on the ground in front of Red Son as he paced before her, his arms held behind his back loosely. She had a bored look on her face, one elbow resting on her knee and her chin in her hand. He ignored her blatant disrespect and continued. 

“A true wielder of my fire, should be able to become one with it, to make it their own and wield it through the practice of meditation and focus.” His lip curled as he watched Mei glance at where a gust of wind was blowing up some loose ash. “Though I doubt you will be able to do such a thing.” 

“Ehhhh… what was that?” Mei glanced back at him.��

Red Son sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. “If you want to learn you are going to have to listen.” 

“I’m listening!” Mei said, rocking back and forth. “I’m listening real good.” 

“If I could kill you right now, I would,” Red Son said. 

“But you can’t,” Mei sing-songed. She giggled and winked at him. 

“I hate you so much. You are a disrespect to my fire.” He turned to Mk and barked. “You there!” 

Mk nearly fell backwards where he was balancing on a blackened boulder. His arms windmilled and flailed until he got himself steady and he stood up ramrod straight, with his arms at his sides.”Yes! What? I’m listening!” 

Red Son groaned into his hands. “Of course, of course I’m stuck with two of the biggest idiots-” He exhaled sharply and looked up at them. “If either of you want to understand my fire you are going to have to start paying attention-” 

“But I’m hungyyy,” Mei complained, continuing her rocking back and forth. “There’s nothing to eat around here.” 

“And thirsty,” Mk added. 

Red Son squinted at them both. “Idiots.” 

He bothered to glance around. He had to admit, there was some concern to be had for the lack of resources. Red Son, of course, could go a very long time without those types of substances. Mei as well if his fire sustained her the way it had always sustained him. 

But Mk was another matter. 

He was more mortal than either of them. Lack of sleep got to him quickly. Even more quickly in the form of eating away at his attention. Food and water were another thing he clearly could not do long without and there was no telling how long he’d been without it already under the white lady’s influence. 

And as long as Mk was distracted Mei would likely also remain distracted due to her worry for him and they’d blame him for it because of course they would. 

“Fine,” he said. He planted his feet firmly on the ground to get their attention before he started his declaration. “We will continue this lesson after you two get yourself some sort of substance to consume.” 

Mei blinked. “Uh… Samadhi Sifu… I don’t know how to tell you this, but… there’s not really… anything here…” 

She gestured to the wasteland stretching around them. Red Son could still feel the fire going on under his feet. The only thing for miles around were half-melted boulders and rocks in a pattern that made Red Son assume it had once been a stream or river of sorts. The fire had long since eaten up any water that had run through it previously. 

Mk blinked slowly, one eye closing and opening sooner than the other, a little off-beat.  

“I know that,” Red Son snapped. “That’s why we’re going somewhere else.” 

“Uhhhh…” said Mei. “Where… exactly?” 

“I don’t have time to explain,” Red Son threw up his hands. “Ugh. Just- stand up, fool.” 

Mei rolled her eyes but she did as she was told. 

“Give me some fire.” 

Mei blinked. “Huh?” 

“Fire. Just-” Red Son sighed. “Just light the rings.” 

“Oooookay…” Mei said slowly. She closed her eyes and after a moment the rings above her flickered to life. 

Without missing a beat, Red Son snatched a bit of flame from the rings. Mei made a little surprised sound, leaning forward curiously. He tried not to bask under her clear admiration. He may not have been able to create his own fire now that it had been stripped from him, but he could still wield it just fine. 

…In small amounts at least. 

“Cool…” Mei said as she watched him draw the circle of flame on the ground. 

“This,” Red Son said, “is a gateway. It will take us outside of the range of the fire, but only for a temporary time. Then we will be transported back here.” 

“So… it's like… yo-yo teleportation?” Mk asked, glancing over Mei’s shoulder to see the circle. 

Red Son spluttered. “What? That-that is an offensively simple way to put it-” 

“But he’s not wrong,” Mei interrupted with a grin. 

Red Son contemplated throwing them both into the circle and then running away, but that would simply be foolish and separate him from his fire. Instead he cursed their ashes under his breath and finished drawing the spell out. 

“Do you want food or not?” He gritted out. 

That at least got them moving into the circle and shutting their mouths. At least temporarily. 

“Let’s go, Sifu Samadhi,” Mei said. 

“I hope the saying of mortals melting in these portals is true for you two,” he said before activating it. 

“Wait,” Mk said. What-?” 

The portal burst into flames.

| beginning | next |

[arcs-writer-corner]

✨Welcome to the blog✨

Decided to make an intro for this blog and talk a little bit about the blog, myself, and other things.

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What is this blog?

This blog was made as a way for me to share my writing. I honestly wasn't planning to create this blog for a while but with Whumptober upon us and NaNoWriMo very soon. I've decided to go ahead and start this blog.

Here I will be posting snippets of my works whether from original works, random snippets, pieces of fanfics, drabbles, whatever really it shall end up here!

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About the Host

My name is Archaic Dragon. I will mainly use Arc or Archaic with the rare appearance of Dragon. My pronouns are Any/Ask. I’m proudly fluidflux who for those who don’t know what that is it means that not only does my gender change it also changes in intensity. Rarely I will ever care what pronouns people use for me. So normally I’ll just say when referring to me if you aren’t sure either use they/them or reflect your own. As a lot of the time my pronouns will shift to match those I’m around.

I’ve always loved art and drawing. My hobbies have always been angled towards the creative and hands on. Sadly though being a college student in engineering leaves very little time for creativity. So I try to spend whatever free time I have outside drawing or writing.

If there is anything else you would like to know feel free to send an ask tho I will NOT be giving out personal information especially that which would be doxing.

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What else?

I write whenever I get the motivation to do so, this often meaning very late at night. I've always loved writing as a way to express myself and my emotions. I always enjoy getting the chance to share this with others and I hope this blog will help do so.

Also always feel free to leave an ask! Whether it's to ask about the AUs I write, my personal stories, about specific pieces, or to leave a prompt. Feel free to even simply just stop by to say hello!

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Other accounts:

@archaic-dragon -> general blog and random stuff

??? -> other art blog WIP

@fanartforfanfics -> fanart made for fanfics

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The banner of the blog is a picture I'm honestly not sure if I took it, a family member took it, or I it found online. The profile pic is a picrew of my current persona.

[socially-awkward-skeleton]

Thanks for the tag @natesofrellis and @clicheantagonist

Tagging: @captastra​, @galaxycunt​, @thomrainer​, @strafethesesinners​, @poeti-kat​@schoute ​, @aceghosts​, @ivymarquis​

As of late I have been mostly focused on filling Writer’s Month prompts and one coming soon is Soulmate AU (personally never thought I would write one of those). So here is a snippet from my upcoming FC5 soulmate AU:

Kit sat at the bar medicating herself with a beer, work had been tough, and she was ready to drink herself into drowsiness to forget the day. Mary May wiped down the counter, her head lifting as she saw the door open, brow furrowing as heavy footsteps on the wooden floor tracked their way to where Kit sat alone. She didn't lift her head to see who had sat down beside her. Instead she traced “JS” into the beads of condensation on the brown glass bottle.

"Beer, please." The voice was deep and gruff, knocking Kit out of her thoughts, stirring something in her subconscious.

She eyed him from her periphery: tall, broad, red hair, unkempt beard. A real live mountain man. He wore a military jacket that was rough and worn with age. His face was cold and severe, but she found herself unable to look away. She cleared her throat and took a sip, the cool liquid traveling down her throat.

He barely paid attention to her, his thumb drumming on the glossy wooden counter top in front of them as he waited for his drink.

She took another sip, building up her courage. Christ, what was she doing? This wasn't like her at all. "Evening."

The drumming stopped, his eyebrow quirked up, and his eyes slowly rolled sideways to look at her, the rest of his head turning as she came into view. His pale blue eyes stared at her, into her. "Evening?"

What the fuck was she supposed to say now? She didn't flirt. She wasn't the type to flirt. What in God's name had gotten into her to even think of starting a conversation?

She stared blankly for a moment too long, caught like a deer in the headlights.

His scars, the dog tags...he was military...well at least they had something in common.

"Cat got your tongue, angel?"

She blinked away and noticed the mark on her wrist poking out from under her cuff. God, she thought, she could only be so lucky if this was the one.

"Sorry. I, uh, don't usually chat up strangers at the bar."

The corner of his mouth pulled up, "How do you usually go about this then?"

"Usually I buy my own drinks and get my own taxi home."

"Smart girl."

She chuckled. She could feel a flush rising up her skin, she couldn't tell if it was the nerves or the alcohol taking effect, but either way she needed some air. She pulled off her jean jacket and draped it over the back of her stool.  There was no hiding the mark now. It was out in the open for all to see.

She went back to her beer bottle and took another swig.

"New in town? Haven't seen you around before?"

"Yeah, just moved up from Houston."

"Texas girl, huh?"

"Not originally, no."

"Didn't think I heard an accent. How long you been in town?"

"Couple of weeks."

His jaw clenched, the smile faded, something had clicked into place. "What'd you say your name was?"

"I didn't." Suddenly the banter didn't seem so fun now. "It's Kit."

"Kit what?"

"Cross?" Why did this feel more like an interrogation? "And you are?"

"Jacob. Jacob Seed."

Shit. Shit. Shit. Fucking shit.

She brought the bottle back to her mouth, trying her best to keep her cool. Don't let him see you flinch. Don't let him know you know who he is. Just drink, take a deep breath, come up with a plan and get out of here as quick as you can.

[kiras-sunshine]

Best man au please

thank you anon <3 this is going to be my longest fic yet and i have poured my heart into writing this and this is obviously based on @actuallysara s prompt number 29 from this amazing list of au prompts and it is about Judd and Grace getting married and TK and Carlos being judd's best men but it is canon divergence from 1x09 onwards and they are not together and things between them are little messy but as they plan bachelor party they grow a lot closer and it makes things even more complicated and it is slow burn with mutual pining <3 here is a longish snippet from it

Getting stuck on duty of planning a bachelor party with the person he hooked up a lot of times and caught feelings with and then broke things off without a proper reason, leaving things only awkward between them, should be the material of nightmares, but it isn't. It is still easy to be with Carlos and TK is aware they are dangerously but slowly sliding towards what they were before he decided that he wasn't ready for anything serious.

Whatever they were before that.

It's lingering looks and casual touching on each other's arms and shoulders as they have been planning and taking care of practical things, smiling and joking that might be counted as flirting and TK feels almost at ease in Carlos' condo. It still looks the same as it did months ago and he wonders if he still has a spare toothbrush in his bathroom and if the dark red hoodie that he suspiciously lost months ago in somewhere in his apartment.

It's weird to be back in a place where they were intimate. Talked about things, hooked up more than once, and were tentatively and slowly discovering something new about each other. The ghosts of those moments seem to haunt him, constantly, when he is there. Every corner is filled with memories.

It could have been the place where they could have started something new and life-changing, but now it is only the stage for their best attempts of pretending to be just good friends and planning a bachelor party.

He guesses it is not the way either of them predicted that they would end up.

Still, TK is kind of glad he is organizing it with him. Not because he would believe that he would have a chance to make it right with him, maybe even apologize, but because Carlos is a control freak and scarily good at staying organized.

Even now, Judd's bachelor party is five weeks away and Carlos already has a half of a notebook filled with their plans and to do lists, written on his neat and small handwriting.

Carlos could handle the whole thing on his own too and TK isn't completely sure what his contribution is. He stares at Carlos who is skimming through the notes and TK drums his fingertips on the dinner table.

The same table that Carlos once had covered with food and plates and fancy cuttlery for him. Just because he wanted to cook a nice dinner and get to know him first. TK wonders if things would be different if he didn't run away that night.

"Can I ask you a question?"

Carlos just hums, quietly, without looking up from the notebook and TK takes it as a permission.

"Why did you quit being a cop?" he asks, tilting his head to the side and keeping his gaze on Carlos.

TK noticed already earlier that he wasn't bumping into Carlos on calls. He wasn't sure if it was a blessing or not, especially right after breaking things off, but he guessed that it was only a coincidence or that Carlos changed precincts or that he ended up taking the detective's exam.

He would have never guessed that he left the force, but his words about not being a cop anymore have echoed in his mind ever since he said them to him at the cafe. It is a mystery and he hasn't been able to solve it, not even after spending weeks with him, and trying to figure it out.

And he is just curious.

"You know why," Carlos mutters, turning the page but he still doesn't look up to him.

TK is only able to stare at him, perplexedly. He doesn't have the slightest clue what Carlos is talking about. As far as he knows, being a cop was a vocation to him and that he loved it, despite of its all horrible sides. Still, underneath the yellowish glow of his living room lamps, Carlos seems to think that they are on the same page. That things are nothing but obvious and as if it wouldn't be a mystery that he has tried to crack for weeks.

TK wonders if he has gotten his knocked on something during a call and crucial pieces of information have been knocked from his head with it.

"Was it because of the working hours? Or the nearly non-existent paycheck?" TK huffs, slightly amusedly, thinking back on all the things that they complained about being a first responder when they first met. "Because I cannot imagine those are any better as a nurse--"

"It is because you got shot," Carlos says, suddenly and harshly, lot louder than he would have expected and his head snaps up. His eyes are shining brightly, with pain and annoyance and frustration when he holds his gaze across the dining table, "on my scene. "

[contreparry]

Hi and happy Friday! I’d love to see something with the prompt “pet” for dadwc!

Absolutely! Here's a snippet from the modern Warden AU I keep writing (name is going to come to me eventually!) for @dadrunkwriting!

"I don't think Duncan will approve," Bran said as Alistair desperately stretched his arms and legs out to try and hide his latest... project... from Bran. Said project wagged its stubby tail and lolled its big tongue out of its giant maw, and stared up at the two men with a friendly, doggy grin.

"It's only for a few days! I swear!" Alistair exclaimed as he lowered his arms to his sides. Despite being nearly a foot taller than him, Alistair looked rather sheepish as a red flush crept up the back of his neck and up to his ears, almost blending into his reddish brown hair. Bran

"Were you planning to hide a mabari in the stockroom for 'a few days' without anyone noticing?" Bran bit down on the inside of his lip to prevent himself from cracking. There were Rules, after all, and hiding a giant dog at work had to be breaking at least one of them. No pets allowed- but perhaps they could make an exception just this one time.

"... well when you put it that way it sounds absurd," Alistair grumbled. "But I am serious! I only need a few days to find Barkspawn a good home, and he'll be out of everyone's hair! I'd take him myself, but my landlord-"

"Doesn't allow pets, I know," Bran interrupted. He'd heard it all before at least a dozen times ("We're in Ferelden! It's practically the law to have a mabari in your home!"), but Alistair's landlord was unmoved. Alistair had taken to volunteering at the local shelter so he could spend time with animals. Bran had three guesses as to where Barkspawn came from, and the first two guesses didn't count. He sighed and tied his hair back with a hair tie on his wrist as Alistair ranted about the indignities of a Ferelden landlord who seemed to hate animals in general and dogs in particular.

"You'd think I could at least keep a tank of shrimp or something, but no, of course not," he complained. "But really, Barkspawn's an excellent pup. Very well-behaved, housebroken, loves snuggles and is food-motivated-"

"Ah. I see why you two get on," Bran said dryly. "Kindred spirits." He offered the back of his hand to the still grinning Barkspawn, who politely sniffed it before giving him a good, slobbery lick. Disgusting. Bran knelt down to give the hound a good scratch behind the ears and smiled when the dog melted under his touch. He'd always wanted a mabari: a sweet, loyal friend who wouldn't mind that he stared off into space sometimes or got lost in his studies or that he wasn't very talkative. He had found many friends in Amaranthine, ones who were endlessly patient with his oddities, but a dog-

"Ugh, you and Morrigan are terrible," Alistair said, but there was a laugh in his voice that told Bran that he wasn't too upset. The silence in the stockroom was cozy, the warm sort of silence after a good meal with friends, when you were sleepy and satiated and safe. Alistair wordlessly handed him a few dog treats from a bag, and Bran fed them to Barkspawn, who politely took each one from him fingers and ate them before licking his hand again. This must be what it's like to fall in love, Bran thought as he pet Barkspawn, long, strong strokes down the dog's spine.

"You know... my apartment allows pets," Bran said slowly. "I can take him for those few days... see how it goes."

"I can drop by with some supplies, give you some pointers," Alistair offered. Bran smiled as Barkspawn leaned his full weight against him.

"I'd like that," Bran replied.

[qu1nby]

every single one but the [insert fic] is ur favorite fic youve ever written

THANK YOU! tbh I don't have a favorite so I'm going to pick a new one each time <33

hopefully the links work because I didn't double-check them all

A: How did you come up with the title to [insert fic]?

How did I come up with the title to I Wasn't Made (to Fall in Love) you ask? Its a song!

I'm very bad at titles.

B: Any of your stories inspired by personal experience?

Not really!

okay well I do project onto Dazai a lot but we don't talk about that

C: What member do you identify with most?

I think this is supposed to be about characters? I tend to lean towards characters that are pining for a certain person but are scared of being with them because they don't want to get hurt

D: Is there a song or a playlist to associate with [insert fic]?

Journey to the Past is very much inspired by the version of Anastasia. There are also Happiest Year and A Slow Dance With Death, which are songfics!

E: If you wrote a sequel to [insert fic], what would it be about?

If I wrote a sequel to Would You Catch Me? it would be more of Dazai making everyone worry about him until eventually they sit down and work together to get him some therapy

F: Share a snippet from one of your favorite dialogue scenes you’ve written and explain why you’re proud of it.

This really isn't anything special but I don't know, there is something about that last line that brings it all together

G: Do you write your story from start to finish, or do you write the scenes out of order?

I used to only do start to finish but writing out of order is pretty fun! usually it depends on what I'm writing and how long it is

H: How would you describe your style?

Messy. I like to ignore grammar rules for the sake of aesthetic

I: Do you have a guilty pleasure in fic (reading or writing)?

Dramatic, spur-of-the-moment confessions

J: Write or describe an alternative ending to [insert fic].

I'm in the stages of rewriting Write to You but an alternate ending would be one where Chuuya manages to convinces Dazai not to rejoin the mafia

K: What’s the angstiest idea you’ve ever come up with?

HMM, I think maybe killing Chuuya in Inked

L: How many times do you usually revise your fic/chapter before posting?

I edit myself to death. I revise and rewrite until I can't stand to look at it anymore

M: Got any premises on the back burner that you’d care to share?

Oh, too many. The biggest one is definitely the Bideou/Ningguang rival business owner AU that I still haven't STARTED. I can't decide what I want the big conflict to be, so there hasn't been much progress. I'm hoping I'll have more time to work on it once it's summer and I've finally moved!

N: Is there a fic you wish someone else would write (or finish) for you?

Nope! as much as I want to read some of my unfinished fics, I also want to be the one to write them

O: How do you begin a story–with the plot, or the characters?

Plot

P: Are you what George R. R. Martin would call an ���architect” or a “gardener”? (How much do you plan in advance, versus letting the story unfold as you go?)

I think I'm more of a gardener. I like to start off with a rough outline and then let the story go from there

Q: How do you feel about collaborations?

Love them! The first fics I ever wrote were written with a friend and it was so much fun. I would love to collaborate with someone again

R: Are there any writers (fanfic or otherwise) you consider an influence?

Too many to count! I have so many mutuals that are writers and they are so, so talented

S: Any fandom tropes you can’t resist?

I love all of the cliché tropes. One bed, enemies to lovers, soulmates, you name it and I have probably read it

T: Any fandom tropes you can’t stand?

I can't think of any right now!

V: If you could write the sequel (or prequel) to any fic out there not written by yourself, which would you choose?

honestly I have no idea--

W: Do you like more general prompts, or more specific ones?

The prompts I come up with are almost always general but I prefer to write more specific ones

X: A character you enjoy making suffer.

Dazai, next question

Y: A character you want to protect.

Kaeya. almost all of the Genshin characters, really.

Z: Major character death–do you ever write/read it? Is there a character whose death you can’t tolerate?

I both write and read it, but I won’t read the ones where child character die

[koolkat9]

10, 19 and 31!

10. Top three favourite fic tropes.

Tooth rotting fluff and hurt/comfort: They're tied and I love them both equally. It just makes me feel so warm and fuzzy inside.

Tattoo Artist x Florist Au: This is only because it fits perfectly for Ger//Eng and I love the idea of tattoo artist Arthur.

Paranormal/Monster Au: I love paranormal creatures. Plus one of my favorite aus I have is my paranormal Ger//fr//uk au.

19. Share a snippet from a wip without giving any context for it.

This is for a prompt in my ask box (warning it's not edited or finished):

After about fifteen minutes he heard footsteps coming towards him. Matthew came around the corner with a smirk on his face. “I should be mad,” He chuckled, “But I’d rather see this as karma.”

“Just get me out of here,” Alfred cried.

“Hmm…I don’t know. You’ve kind of been an asshole since we got here.”

“Mattie!”

Matthew leaned against the wall, ignoring his brother’s plea.

“Fine! I’ll clean! Just get me out of here.”

31. What was the most difficult fic for you to write (but in the end you made it)?

Hmm...There was quite a few fics that were difficult to get out due to writer's block. But probably the worst would be "For You I'll Try". I almost didn't finish it. It was originally suppose to be a New Year's Eve fic, but I did not like how it was turning out so I was planning on scraping it. Then I was in the mood to write sad Arthur so I went back to this fic and it surprisingly wasn't as bad as I thought, I just had to get rid of the New Years angle because it was months after it and finish writing the rest.