fic rec friday 11
hi!! welcome to fic rec friday (i know it's tuesday that's my bad 💀). every week, i pick five fics i have bookmarked and rec them with a little review. check them out!
and if you're warm, then you can't relate to me by remrose
They get stuck outside from a 3AM fire alarm.
“I call it the ten-pound-quilt.” Will winked like it was a secret, coming to a stop in front of Nico. “I lent it to one of my siblings once and he said it was like being suffocated by a wet cement pancake. I love it."
will 'problem causer and embarrassed about it' solace so so real. this fic is also stellar bc nico is lowkey aware how much will likes him. that is how the dynamic should be i think.
2. Those walls I built didn't even put up a fight by @sazandorable
"Is it morally okay to stab a medic with their own scissors?" Nico asked Cecil. (Not that he usually cared about morally okay, as Octavian might demonstrate.)
Nico's three days in the infirmary go by faster than he'd thought, and Will just won't stop flirting.
bruh this fic made me LAUGH. it wholly deserves the nearly quarter million hits it has jfc. i 100% clicked for the 'jason is a very embarrassing and very supportive ally' tag and it TOTALLY lived up and it was hilarious. he is. will's characterization was SO SO good and the whole fic just had me giggling!!
3. this is my kingdom come by remrose
Five times Nico and Will pretended they were dating. College AU.
the slow and unnoticeable slide from fake dating to real dating. fucking kills me every time. like oh yeah maybe i do love you. maybe you are everything to me. maybe i do want to spend the rest of my life with you. maybe loving you is this easy. GOD. god. insert seinfield gif her bc it fucking gets to me alright. it gets to me.
4. Days Gone By by @ghostystarr
Everyone was afraid of him, the boy who could talk to ghosts. Will just really wanted to know if his goldfish was haunting him every time he used the bathroom. AU Solangelo.
i am a sucker for childhood friends to lovers alright. and modern au with medium nico is art. so what if it is on the nose. it is amusing. and posting this ghosty ass fic on halloween the year solangelo came out is fucking camp idc this author ate up.
5. Patience and Patients by skyrat
Will Solace didn't mean to get a crush on the most exasperating demigod he'd ever met. But once he started watching Nico di Angelo he couldn't turn away. The lines between intentions and feelings got blurred. But how do you tell if the guy you like feels the same way when he's never around?
will having a crush on nico for a thousand years is literally my favourite trope like i love him actually. his pining ass will never get old! it will never get old. i will never get tired of reading it. also this is unrelated but i read this for the first time the day it was posting, which was the Day after i turned twelve lol time truly flies.
thank you for joining me this saturday tuesday sh don't worry about the actual date friday!! happy reading!!
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A DEVIL REBORN
Happy Halloween!!! A detailed ID will be placed under the cut (it's close to being 1K i could literally post this to Ao3)
p1. ड्याम्म (dyamma) - Nepali for "(feeling) full", "hitting something"
p3. Chutiya - Hindi for "idiot", "moron" and other related insults
p5. க்ரீச் (kreech) - Tamil onomatopoeia describing scraping/screeching sounds
[Extended Image ID: DYAMMA! Slamming his hands on a table, Achanba Okram finds himself in the darkness of his laboratory. He is wearing black clothes and a white lab coat on top, and has a bowl cut with rectangular glasses.
His thoughts whirl within boxes that are coloured gold and are outlined with red; they put a voice to the uneasy feelings Okram knows are stirring inside of him. The thought boxes read:
With Pavitr gone, I finally have time to string my thoughts together. Half-drowned answers bleed out of my pores. Coalescing like some great, abysmal creature of unknown origin.
Bracing his hands against the table, Okram is acutely aware of his body, of the gaping holes in his back that bubble with demonic energy. His thoughts narrate, My body quakes when I begin to question, wracked with paranoia. With dread, as if the idea of what I had to face was unbearable.
The holes in back — four of them, spaced evenly from each other — begin to ooze golden liquid, hot like fire and viscous like tar.
And yet, Okram thinks, I felt it all the same: that crawling, scintillating horror of my reality. Of my tainted flesh and blood. My being here is the work of demonic forces.
Golden arms, fluid yet bony, powered by some otherworldly thing, unravel from the void in his back. They flounder and expand around him, filling the lab with a cold glow. The fingers are tipped with talons, and, if he looked hard enough, Okram swears they are edged with blood.
I died years ago, Okram thinks. I lost my humanity to the fire of the devil's madness. Thus, the question remains: what is the future of Achanba Okram, a DEVIL REBORN?
The lights of the lab suddenly brighten, and Okram hears him before he sees him. His arms register the presence of the other person, immediately unraveling and slipping out of reality. Just outside, Pavitr Prabhakar's voice calls, "HEY, DOCTOR OKRAM! Sorry I'm late! Traffic was abysmal today."
Pavitr's entrance catches Okram by surprise, and he stutters out, "PAVITR?! You- ah- you have one of your shifts today?"
His thoughts reprimand him, You CHUTIYA! Pavitr always has his shifts on Tuesdays!
Pavitr is unaware of Okram's turmoil, sauntering into the laboratory while hefting up a white plastic bag. He's wearing a black and white flannel shirt, and he has circular earrings. Pavitr's eyes are trained on the bag in his hand. He answers Okram's question with, "Yeah, I do. I, uh, got a little hungry along the way (I'm always so hungry)." Pavitr whispers the last part as he lifts the bag up. He continues, "so I went and bought some vada pav, and—"
He suddenly pauses, his eyes locking onto Okram. He can't tell what is going beyond Pavitr's eyes, but the other man's analysing gaze unnerves Okram to a degree beyond description.
(In Pavitr's POV: his Spider-Sense was just triggered. Red and gold squiggly lines emanate from and surround his head in a halo.)
Pavitr lowers the bag slightly in concern. "Uhm," Pavitr says "are you okay, Doctor?"
Dread and fear floods Okram's system. Suddenly he is hyperaware of everything in the room, including the golden arm that has sprouted from his back and was lying on the workbench behind him, right in Pavitr's line of sight.
Play dumb! Okram's mind screams at him. Accordingly, Okram replies, a tad too tightly, "Of course I am, Pavitr! Why wouldn't I be?"
KREECH. The golden arm scrapes its taloned fingers across the table, no doubt giving away its location.
Okram chuckles nervously, sweating almost immediately, at which his mind howls, Not that dumb!
Pavitr narrows his eyes at Okram and at the golden arm on the workbench. "Are those...demonic arms?" he asks Okram, a shadow crossing his face.
(In Pavitr's POV: In the back of his mind, Pavitr sees a vague and faded image forming in response to seeing the arms. He remembers Doctor Octopus, the man with two extra sets of arms who had attacked him many years ago; he was one of the first villains Pavitr fought as Spider-Man. But... Doctor Octopus died a long time ago. Perhaps...?)
"Oh, Doctor..."
Pavitr's gaze softens as he asks, "Are you being haunted by demons? Have you been attacked by them? Why didn't you tell me? I'm so sorry this has been happening to you. I can't imagine how stressful this is for you." A moment, and then, "Do you want to talk about?"
Okram hides his face in his hands, quickly responding, "No, I'm alright, Pavitr."
Pavitr walks forward, placing his bag down and reaching down to place a reassuring hand on Okram's shoulder. "But, Doctor, men of your generation have ignored their mental health for too long."
"Yes, I know," Okram sighs.
"It'll be okay, Doctor," Pavitr promises, "we can figure something out!"
"And what?" Okram asks somewhat sarcastically. "You will be here with me 'every step of the way'?"
"One hundred percent!" Pavitr says.
Behind them, one of Okram's demonic arms reaches out to peer at Pavitr and Okram; if an arm could be happy, it certainly was. The arm is seemingly pleased with Pavitr's helpful and understanding nature. /.End ID]
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Life after the Ghostface killings in New York City was somewhat peaceful. As peaceful as it could be with the entire internet hounding you that you were going to end up becoming a serial killer like your dad.
If Sam had it her way, she would ban the internet. Because, honestly? Most of them were a bunch of incels (whatever that even meant. Sam overheard Mindy saying Richie was an incel and assumed it to mean a shitty person - which, true) who needed a positive social life.
And incels were why Sam usually stayed inside nowadays, because she didn't want to deal with shitty people trying to kill her. Again. For the third time.
Literally isolating herself led to the worst possible outcome.
For Tara.
"Um, Sam?"
Sam didn't bother putting the impact driver in her hand down. She whipped around and grinned at her bemused and annoyed sister coming into the living room.
Tara eyed the power tool in Sam's hand, the few screws poking out of her teeth, and the halfway-put-together hammock limp on the floor.
"Is there a reason why you're drilling holes in the wall?" Tara deadpanned, pulling her arms tight across her chest.
Sam looked down at the hammock as if it was obvious. It was kind of obvious. No, it was really obvious. The hammock was still half drilled into the wall and patiently waiting to be stuck across the room to stretch out. She opened her mouth to let the screws fall into her palm.
"I'm hanging a hammock."
"Why?"
"Because?"
"At 2 in the morning?" Sam went to open her mouth to defend herself, but Tara quickly narrowed her eyes and spoke up again. "When I have a final worth 40% of my grade at 9 in the morning?"
Sam slowly closed her jaw.
Tara held her angry glare for exactly 10 seconds before her shoulders dropped as she sighed. She trudged to the chair and curled up in it, patiently watching Sam watching her. Sam perked up at the silent "go on" from her sister.
"It was supposed to be a surprise for you," Sam admitted. She began to stretch the hammock to the other wall and used her stud finder on the wall. She sighed. "I guess I lost track of time."
Tara raised an unimpressed eyebrow. "So you haven't eaten all day?"
Sam laughed at that, nearly slipping and drilling her hand to the wall. Tara jolted at that but calmed down once Sam continued to laugh.
"That's my line, Tara." Sam tugged on the newly drilled hammock and sighed once she was satisfied it wasn't coming down. "Do you like it?"
"I think I'd like it even more if I didn't have to wake up during the installation."
Ok. Fine. Whatever.
Sam dramatically rolled her eyes and discarded the impact driver and stud finder on the half of the couch the hammock didn't cover. She flopped onto the hammock with a groan, hands behind her head.
"I'll just use it then," Sam teased with her eyes closed, "since someone doesn't appreciate honest work."
She could feel the side eye Tara was giving her, and she couldn't help but feel slightly panicked.
Did Tara really not like the gift? Was it over the top? Did it remind Tara too much of... before?
Before Sam could mentally degrade herself about how she should've known better than to burden Tara with this gift, the hammock rocked.
Sam snapped her eyes open at the tipping of the hammock and immediately threw her foot down to the floor for stability. Tara, from Sam's sudden movement, fell the rest of the way into the hammock.
Tara wriggled around, trying to get comfortable, and Sam laid as still as she could. As soon as Tara relaxed, almost completely on top of her older sister, Sam wrapped her arms around Tara and squeezed.
"Gotcha!" Sam said with a kiss to the crown of her head.
Tara grumbled, exhausted.
It was quiet after that. Sam rubbed soothing circles into Tara's back and hummed whatever song came to mind.
"Sammy?" Tara's tired voice slurred into Sam's shoulder. Sam hummed. "I love it; thank you so, so much. I feel like a kid again."
Sam swallowed. Wow. No one had ever really shown appreciation for the things she gave them. To hear how much Tara loved it made Sam love the gift too.
"It's nothing," Sam tried to downplay how happy she was, but the pitch in her voice gave it away.
Tara nuzzled deeper into her sister's bodywarmth, and Sam reached out to snag the wooly blanket from the couch beneath the hammock and toss it over them. Humming, Tara fully relaxed.
"Dos oruguitas," Sam softly sang, tucking Tara's hair behind her ear, "enamoradas.¹"
"Pasan sus noches," Tara mumbled, not even bothering to try and sing right now, "y madrugadas.²"
Sam snorted. Her foot began to lightly kick against the ground to sway the hammock.
The whir of the heater drowned out the honking outside of people rushing to get home and out of the way of the incoming snow storm.
Tara's shoulders hitched, drawing Sam's attention to them. Her eyes went wide when warm tears began to soak her shirt collar.
"Tara? Mi mariposa, ¿qué ocurre?" Sam lifted the two of them up enough so she could wipe away the tears flowing down Tara's cheeks. Each tear was a punch to the gut, and Sam wanted nothing more than to lightly assault whatever made Tara cry. "¿Estás bien?³"
Tara shook her head. "No es nada.⁴ I was thinking about our backyard. We used to do this all the time." She laughed wetly, full of tears. "I didn't know how much I missed it until now."
So... Sam needed to lightly assault herself. Got it.
At least she could make up for all of those afternoon naps in their backyard hammock she missed now.
"Me too," Sam agreed with a smile. She cupped Tara's face and kissed her forehead, and Tara sank into the action with a tired sigh. "Now -" Sam pulled back with a mock stern glare -"you're going back to sleep. You have your final in the morning. Why are you even awake right now?"
"What? You're the one that -"
"Shh, less talking more sleeping."
Tara huffed, but it sounded suspiciously like muffled laughter.
Sam pulled Tara back down and continued to rub her back and push her foot to move the hammock. The soothing motions combined with Sam's warmth lulled Tara into an easy sleep.
But Sam never stopped rocking her foot. She pulled the blanket higher over both of them before hugging her sister.
With Tara now sleeping, Sam silently dissolved into a mess of tears. She was glad Tara wasn't seeing this moment of weakness from her. What would she think of Sam if she knew Sam cried so easily over her?
"Te amo, Tara," she said as she gathered Tara as close as she could, until the world shifted and the puzzle completed. She was whole again. "Te amo mucho, mi corazón.⁵"
Sam closed her eyes and fell asleep with her entire world in her arms.
— ● — ○ — ● — ○ —
1: Two little caterpillars in love
2: They spend their nights and early mornings
3: My butterfly, what's going on? Are you ok?
4: It's nothing.
5: I love you, Tara. I love you so much, my heart.
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A Reminder To Those Who Need It.
I got this question a lot and I'm absolutely tired of hearing it...
"What are you doing in college?", "What are your plans after senior year?"
Like, I don't even know what I'm gonna do over the break or the next whole year, so, i thought maybe it's like this for everyone. People are expected to decide everything like it won't actually impact their life. Most of my class is damn sure about what they wanna do while me? I just wanna pass senior year with good grades and think about it slowly and with a clearer head.
For me, the main thing that matters is that i shouldn't regret taking something i don't like and I don't wanna rush the whole decision up. And i just got like such judgy eyes... ugh... Like, I don't know what i want... Why is that not okay nowadays? Why is taking time to figure it out not alright?
So, to everyone who's in a situation like me...
You don't have to have everything figured out, if you don't know what you're gonna do, that's completely fine. Take your time, it's not a race.
Honestly, it can be quite confusing and you may feel like you might be kinda lax about it but honestly, it's definitely okay :)
You're not obliged to rush your decisions just because another person has already made theirs.
Just wanted to say that... okay, bye.
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