#make a choice fic

[asirensrage]

Mise en Place - A "choose your own adventure" style fic - Part 1

Fandom: Punisher AU Rating: Likely Explicit. Pairing: Billy Russo x OC Warnings: Dark!Fic, threats, murder, obsession, swearing, and likely more to be added... Summary: Nadine thought her biggest problem was helping to keep the restaurant she worked at afloat as the neighbourhood starts being bought out from under them. A chance meeting in an elevator with an old fling proves differently…

Notes: And so, we begin! Heed the warnings! This chapter is not rated explicit but others will be.

If there was one word to describe herself lately, Nadine would say it’s exhausted. 

Her day had been filled with deliveries that were improperly made, a sous chef quitting without notice, and at least one customer who wanted to argue with her over their order. Honestly, she just wants to go home, open a bottle of wine and then crawl into bed. 

She presses the button to call the elevator, glancing at another sign informing the occupants that there will be another change made to the building. Since the ownership changeover, they’ve been making multiple improvements. Luckily none of it seemed to involve raising the rent. Yet. 

The doors open and she slips in. There’s someone already there, coming up from the parking lot. Of course, it’s her luck that when she’s covered in grease, food splatters and sweat, rocking second day hair that she runs into him again. 

Billy is standing there, in a well-pressed suit and smelling better than any man has a right to. It’s been enough of a day that she doesn’t even bother looking at him. They hooked up a few times, back when things weren’t so hectic. It was fantastic but both of them had their lives and she had no intention to tie herself down. Not when she’s trying to keep this restaurant alive when everything else around them keeps failing and being bought out. 

He doesn’t greet her, too busy texting. It’s not a surprise. His work always had his attention first. It’s part of why they fit so well together. The button for their floor is already pressed so she leans against the wall and waits. Her eyes close and she tries to hold back a yawn. She can practically feel the comfort of her bed waiting for her. She just has to get to it. 

She peeks out at the man in the elevator with her. It really was unfair that he looks as good as does. Him and his perfect suits, bright ties and… She pauses. Her eyes narrow as she realizes what she’s seeing. There is blood on his clothes. She glances up and sees more blood splattered against his hands. She looks at his face…and finds him staring back at her. 

mise en place tag: @muchadoaboutcj billy russo tag: @wheresthesunshinesblog  

general tag: @raith-way @arrthurpendragon @veetlegeuse @chickensarentcheap @residentdormouse @endless-oc-creations  @stanshollaand @wordspin-shares @chrissymunson

#ridea's choose your own adventure #make a choice fic #fic: mise en place #billy russo x oc #mafia!billy russo #oc: nadine #dark!fic #dark fic #long post

[shadowbends]

Looking through your Ao3 bookmarks and seeing that little “This has been deleted, sorry!” is like finding a gravestone, but the writing’s too worn down to read what it was standing for anymore.

What were you, Bookmark #336... What stories did you tell? Which words were it that once left a mark on my soul?  *touches my laptop screen like it’s text from an ancient ruin*

Cowabummer. 

#/wails dramatically #I joke to cope #BUT MAN #I hate when this happens #:c #I respect an author's choice to delete #but it's always a bummer coming across evidence of a deleted fic #and not knowing what it was #I gotta start making use of the notes section on ao3 more #fanfiction #pi says things

[casdeans-pie]

The first time Castiel heard the phrase to 'kiss something better' he thought it sounded like a ridiculous notion.

How could a kiss heal a wound? Kisses held no magic. No power.

But Castiel found the phrase drifting back to him while he looked at Dean, hissing with pain as he wiped blood away from his grazed skin.

(Dean insisted on wearing jeans with useless intentional rips on the knees, so it felt inevitable that he would eventually scuff the skin there.) (Castiel had even told him so.) (Dean had told him to stop being such a nag.)

Strange how Castiel knew that there were no mystical properties to a kiss, and yet now it was all he could think about. He could sink to his knees and place his lips directly over the wound, letting his grace knit the flesh below. Or... he could grab a fistful of Dean's flannel and crush his lips to Castiel's own, walking them backwards until they hit the wall, bodies lined up, grace pouring in through their joined lips to thread down Dean's body to the injury and-

"Hey, Cas? You okay there, buddy?" Dean said, snapping Castiel out of his thoughts. His lips pulled up into a playful grin that actively grew as Castiel huffed and narrowed his eyes. "Y'kinda giving me a look like you might smite me or eat me."

"Your jeans are impractical," Castiel snapped in a deep rumble. He prodded Dean in the forehead with two fingertips - felt his grace seal the injury instantly - and disappeared with a hard flap of wings.

#once again I am writing fic instead of sleeping. making all the good and sensible life choices asdjklklfj #Deans just sitting there injured while Cas is having a full gay crisis #destiel #destiel ficlet #castiel #pie's projects #destiel fanfic

[eggcats]

Making another post based on Alastor knowing everything that plays over his airwaves, but this time combining the radiohuskerdust and radioapple

Angel decides they need a Boys Night, and coerces Alastor, Husk, and Lucifer to join him in drinking and listening to music (aka Alastor)

Angel forces them all to (if not wear pajamas) to be SEVERELY dressed down, and is like if you're wearing too many layers, we're playing strip poker until you're not *glare* so they dont

So Angel is in like a crop top hoodie and low-rise shorts, Lucifer is definitely in some kind of duckie pajamas, Husk is basically in the same outfit except he swapped out the pants for sweatpants, and Alastor is in a loose button up shirt with the sleeves rolled up and the top buttons undone, and comfortable slacks

And as they're drinking, Angel keeps requesting more and more random and obscure songs for Alastor to play (Lucifer is greatly confused by this, but then eventually joins in because he's never seen Alastor so indulgent in something so stupid before, and it's fun)

Eventually Alastor gets drunk enough to start singing along to the songs, and after just a few more drinks he grabs Husk and makes him dance with him (he grabs Husk because they've known each other for years and have basically done this every time they get drunk together)

Husk is enjoying the attention, because while Alastor owns his soul and they do have tense moments, they have known each other for years and Husk does genuinely care about him (and he thinks there Could be something, if Alastor only let it)

(Alastor will not, because even with them becoming close over the years, he is Uncomfortably aware of the power difference, and as a mixed man from the 30s, that is a line he will NOT cross. Meeting Angel and his issues with Valentino only confirms this to himself.)

It's at this point that Alastor drops the transatlantic voice and starts slurring in his Louisiana Creole, and his radio static keeps dropping out for his real voice to come through (both Angel and Lucifer are shot dead, they didn't know this was a possibility and now they're going to be thinking about it forever. Husk is only safe because he's experienced this before)

Angel immediately has to join in with the dancing, because Hot Deer Daddy being drunk and playful??? He needs IN immediately.

Lucifer is having a crisis, he thought he had a handle on thinking Alastor was hot, but then he brought his TAIL and his ACCENT and his DANCING and he's flushed and giggly and. Oh no. Maybe Charlie IS going to have a second father after all???

Alastor eventually coerces Lucifer into dancing too by asking if he's a bad dancer, and if that's why he's still sitting. Lucifer, obviously, has to prove him wrong. (He doesn't, but it's worth it because Alastor giggles and grabs him to correct his form.)

All 3 of them revel in Alastor being much more genuine than normal (and the fact that not only is he touching them as they dance, he doesn't seem to mind when THEY touch HIM), and the fact that they get so see Alastor not only dressed down and drunk, but him relaxed and dancing with his face flushed (they all wish he didn't hate cameras or video because they wish they could keep this memory forever)

Eventually, they have to wind down and end up in a giant cuddle puddle on the floor, sleepover style

The next morning is about as awkward as you'd think, especially since somehow Lucifer fell asleep practically on top of Alastor, and Alastor himself is surrounded on both sides by Angel and Husk (which he could have handled if he was the first one to wake up so he could escape, but no, Charlie came downstairs and squealed so loud it woke up all 4 of them and made them come to terms to how they were cuddling each other. Hell.)

#hazbin hotel #fic #mine #radioapple #radiohusk #radiodust #radiohuskerdust #alastor #lucifer morningstar #husk #angel dust #hazbin alastor #hazbin lucifer #hazbin angel dust #hazbin husk #long post #if theres one thing i will make with my Alastor fics its the fact that he cant help but form a polycule around himself #he WILL be in a polycule and its not his choice #he truly is the 'get polyculed idiot' of them all #he doesnt have a choice he just will

[oh-katsuki]

i haaate when I end up on fanfiction tiktok like get me away from here. “y/n shouldn’t have a backstory or a personality because then I can’t completely insert myself” OKAY! that’s fine actually because I’m writing a story for myself and it seems like you want a blank piece of paper. I will literally blow up this entire planet.

#the wayyyy they talk about people writing shit for free on there like it’s their RIGHT for it to cater exactly to them #is insane and makes me ANGRYYY #‘at that point.. reader is just an oc’ yeah… yeah they are sometimes #but guess what!!! you didn’t write it!!! and you’re getting to read it for free!! sit down!!!! #it is also literally impossible to write a fic with a story where reader doesn’t have a personality #because as SOON a reader has to make a choice or even say a single thing or hve a single thought… #it becomes an aspect or result of personality #discourse #<- just in case

[caliphoria17]

SimonDavisBarry: Ok folks, here’s the infamous scene 18 that we never shot. Comes before the running over water scene.

#“Takes a moment” to yearn perhaps Bea? #Half asleep Ava mumbling GOD WOULD’VE LOVED TO SEE THAT #Also: the domesticity of it all with Bea naturally being the one making breakfast #“(grins knowingly) We'll see about that.” Does anyone get a little bit of a gay vibe.gif #This also shows how much AB & KTY’s acting choices add so much to their scenes (eye contact/touch/maybe added dialogue) #👩🏻‍🍳’s 💋 #Absolutely looking forward to fanfic writers and WN artists to reference this in their fics and art AHHH #Fanfic writers have been really accurate with their depictions though which is amazing #Warrior Nun #Avatrice #Warrior Nun edit #My edit

[rad-batson]

Multiverse AU where different variants of Damian Wayne Al Ghul are accidentally hailed to one universe and Damian is in the middle, trying to get all of them back home, but it only gets worse and NOT for the reasons you would think.

So picture this: there’s a sea of Damian variants crowded into the Batcave. One’s a leader of the LOA. Another became the next Harley Quinn? One is a mute assassin. Another is Red Hood’s apprentice. One’s Batman. One’s a meta for some reason. Another is the leader of a revolution. One’s a monk. And another is a clone. They’re all somehow involved in vigilantism or the LOA.

And then there’s a completely normal one. He goes by Dami. He’s in college :) He works at an art studio. He’s got a heart condition. He has a boyfriend, and he has never been Robin before. In fact, he doesn’t even know his dad is Batman. So in a room full of wildly different versions, this Damian sticks out like a sore thumb. He’s like an NPC just standing in the middle of a final battle.

What he does know is that his mother, Talia, left the LOA with him when he was two because she fell in love with Bruce. Since then, the three have lived a Perfectly Normal Life as Perfectly Normal People in a moderately nice house in the suburbs of Gotham.

And you know what? No one questions it. Out of all the problems the Damians are having right now, Normal Damian is the least of them. So he just sits to the side, completely chill, and doesn’t interfere.

But then some chaos happens, the Damians are all sucked into a battle at some secondary location, Normal Dami is kidnapped, gets killed, and everyone’s super depressed about it. (Gosh, he was so nice. Why did it have to be him? Boo hoo. We didn’t even have time to recover the body.)

Until they head back to the cave…and there he is. Respawned. Alive. Confused.

He was literally dead on the floor two hours ago. They checked for a pulse! He bled out. Normal NPC Dami is supposed to be dead. But nope. He’s right there. “Hey, what happened? The last thing I remember is being tied up. Did I faint again?”

Everyone else, the whole batfamily and the mini Damian army, is like “wtf how’d you get here, buddy?” While he’s just like :) so Bruce, who put a bug on the security cameras or whatever, checks the footage and what he finds is absolutely horrifying.

Just after he died, Normal Dami’s eyes snapped open. Glowing a deep Lazarus Green. He stood up, walked out, and immediately fucking decimated the remaining group of kidnappers like a rabid animal. Literally anyone who got near him were goners, and Thank Sweet Jesus he didn’t run into anyone on the walk back because he didn’t care to clean off all that blood. Nope, he just walked right through the front doors of the manor, found a clean set of clothes, completely on autopilot, then all of the adrenaline wore off, and he collapsed from exhaustion.

So everyone watches the footage. NPC Damian is horrified. He insists that’s not him because he doesn’t kill people! How could they ever accuse him of killing people?! He has never done something like that. He can’t even walk up a flight of stairs without getting winded for Christ’s sake!

Nonetheless, he agrees to sit in their itty bitty holding cell as they do some fun little tests, and lo and behold: he is so genetically fucked up. Why? Because his DNA isn’t like the other Damians. It’s completely mutated by this green glowing substance that they know all too well.

The verdict? Normal Dami has been permanently mutated by the Lazarus Pit. The Lazarus Pit is inside of him. It IS him. Or maybe Normal NPC Damian is the Lazarus Pit.

When Normal Dami was two and he and Talia still lived with the LOA, there was an incident involving Damian drowning in the Lazarus Pit (à la Ra’s Al Ghul's Stellar Grand-Parenting Skills.) However, since he wasn’t dead, the Lazarus Pit devoured him, consumed him with violent pit madness, spat him back out, and Damian became this completely, unstoppably rage-filled toddler that can throw you over his shoulder and snap your neck. So Talia, terrified of what Ra’s would do with him, escaped to Gotham, found Bruce, begged for help, and they devised a plan.

Step 1: Raise Lazarus Damian as a completely normal kid.

Step 2: Take him to therapy. Maybe give him anger management classes. (Monitor his sugar intake. That couldn’t hurt.)

That was literally their whole plan. They had no other ideas ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

Occasionally, he’d snap and kill someone in cold blood (whoopsie daisy) but his parents were an assassin and the world's greatest detective. No one’s gonna know.

Through some trial and error, they found out that abrupt adrenaline spikes were what triggered the madness. So they worked around it. They gave him calm, relaxing hobbies. They spoiled him with emotional support animals. They Never Raised Their Voices. He was homeschooled for a bit then introduced to university, but only AFTER they made sure Jon (the Indestructable Superboy) was his roommmate. (Yes, they told him. Yes, he is now part of the convoluted Keep Deadly Damian Relaxed Task Force. They’re also dating.) They got Damian a FitBit that tracked his heart rate so they could predict when his adrenaline spiked. They Life360’d his ass so fucking hard. Meanwhile, Damian just thought he had some kind of medical thing, none the wiser the entire time.

Long story short? “Chill Normal NPC Damian” Cannot Die. But he can Kill.

If he does “die” (the Lazarus Pit cannot die) then he goes into a murderous rage, kills everyone in sight, it wears off with the adrenaline, and he can’t remember what happened. This Damian is the Most Dangerous of the variants, and he doesn’t even know it because his parents decided that would be best.

And now the other Damians are scared of him, and he’s scared of himself, and no one knows why he's made of the Lazarus Pit, and they don’t know what to do with him, and they still don’t know how to get back, and some of them want to kill him, and some don't, but no one trusts him, including himself, and it becomes an all-out war over the fate of Damian.

Anyway, Normal Damian who's actually a Murderous Lazarus Spirit without even knowing it. Thank you :)

#he's so fucked up #lightly traumatizes my blorbo #damian wayne #npc damian's jon goes through so much grief trying to keep Damian safe but also feels so guilty over this massive secret #he knows Damian should know but he doesn't know how to tell him without hurting him and making him question their relationship #also think of npc damian's talia knowing that her choice to stay with the LOA is what caused Damian to become a lazarus monster #and for bruce there's the torture of knowing his child will always be a murderous rampaging spirit and you hate killing but can't stop it #fic ideas #batman #dc robin #damian al ghul #batfam #batfamily #dc universe #dc #robin damian #robin dc #lazarus pit #league of assassins #talia al ghul #bruce wayne #dc comics #jon kent #damijon #lazarus rage #multiverse au

[meliake]

If I read one more fucking fic where Tim begs for his life in Titan's Tower I'm actually going to explode like?? READ IT????

Tim is a little fucking shit the entire time, fully confident in his abilities until the very end. And Jason didn't try and kill him, just gravely injured him to send a message, hence the bloody writing. Like guys- he could have killed him but purposefully didn't to prove his point.

There was no moment of regret for him because the 'pit rage' got to him, he was in full control of himself all throughout electrocuting Cyborg and Beastboy, putting Raven to sleep. LIKE GUYS PLEASE JUST READ THE ISSUE I STG

#tim drake #jason todd #batman #red hood #red robin #robin #Its actually getting to be a deal breaker for me in any angsty fic #like Its a post Bruce getting stuck in the timeline fic and a mention of titans tower rolls around and Im like #noooo #how it this gonna play out #and if they talk about 'beating a poor innocent traumatized kid' #I physically cannot read it #Its a sign they dont actually read any comics or underdtand their characterization #LET TIM BE A LITTLE BITCH SOMETIMES #LET JASON CONCIOUSLY MAKE BAD CHOICES SOMETIMES #irks me so bad #sorry Im ranting in the tags #Titans tower

[hippielittlemetalhead]

Never Took The Time (To Forgot) part 4.1 : With a Capital 'P'

Part 4.2 (Hey Dingus? Idk, the title for that one is up in the air.) will be up as soon as I have it somewhere I like (doing a different character's pov instead of Hop so it's giving me some trouble). Felt really bad that I hadn't updated in a while and this one was getting longer than I expected and I hadn't even gotten Robin really talking yet so... Happy Valentine's Day?

Part 1 (Hop Fucks Up), Part 2 (Pride and Prejudices: Joyce Edition), Part 3 (One of Us)

Family Video and the Arcade were two of the few businesses still operating after the inter-dimensional earthquakes that had tried tearing their town to pieces. Hop knew the kid who used to run the place for his uncle, Keith, had split town with his folks (said uncle in tow) leaving the store and arcade in the care of whatever employees had been willing to stay on payroll while the world fell apart.

He watches as Harrington's (more banged up than never remembers it being) car stops in front of the video store, parked parallel to the curb across at least 3 parking spots, as a wildly gesticulating Robin rolls herself out of the idling vehicle, jabbering loud enough that Hop can hear her voice from down the block. With most cars owned by the folks of Hawkins being commandeered by Owens' government goons to fill the gaps left by lost military vehicles it doesn't much matter but Hop can't help a bit of an eye roll at the kid's audacity.

But then again, he catches himself thinking, Steve was one of the only 'civilians' in-the-know and was well-known for carting around and protecting proven assets to the War Of The Worlds shitshow going on. So was there really an issue if the kid was one of the only cars on the road anyway and because he was even more read-in on the situation than even local law enforcement? If he was not only transporting and protecting people the government had a vested interest in but had proven himself more effective than even Hop and Joyce in wrangling the kids who had basically been saving the world for the last 4 years? If he kept them safe and out of harm's way in the thick of it but also kept them entertained and out from underfoot during the downtime?

Hell, the kid being one of the only employees left at some of the last businesses in town these brats would have any interest in almost guarantees the whole lot of them are continuously stocked in movies, snacks and quarters to distract them from even the most world shaking of calamities.

It hadn't occurred to him until just now what it meant for The Party that Steve and Robin seemed to be the only ones willing to hang around behind the counter at the arcade and sell and rent movies to shell-shocked townsfolk and tight-lipped government goons alike. Fuck, Lucas and Mike were right. He was an asshole.

He's pulled out of the slow spiral of realizing Mike Wheeler of all people had been right about something by Steve hollering one last "Love you, Bobby!" at a grinning and waving Buckley as she flung open the video store door and stumbled inside. He waits for the car and it's driver to round the corner before he gets out of his own government-issued station wagon. Fuck but he missed his truck.

"Welcome to Family Video, I literally just got here so you're gonna have to give me a minute before I can help you."

"I'm uh, I'm not here for a movie." He can tell she recognizes his voice (and it's a little impressive how quickly she clocks him since he's spoken only a couple words anywhere near her maybe twice in his memory. Girl has a good ear) from the way her entire body stills for a split second before whirling back into the hurricane of motion he's come to associate with her.

"Afraid we've only got movies round here, officer. You want any other medium of entertainment I'd suggest the arcade or the distribution yard." She's still not looking at him, hands busy shuffling papers and flipping open VHS cases. "Sorry, guess we'll have to catch up another time."

Hop sighs, running a hand over the short growth he's slowly getting used to again. He'd almost shaved it down again but El had been so happy when she'd realized they were growing out at about the same rate. He couldn't ever say no to her.

"Look, I know you don't like me. And it has been brought to my attention just how much I fucking earned that. But I- I need your help here, to fix it."

The flurry of movement doesn't stop but it's tighter, she's fiddling with something shoved up her shirt sleeve and tapping at the casing of a button connected to a wire leading into her green vest. Bright blue eyes are focused on him and he's almost reminded of the no-nonsense look Nancy Wheeler gets whenever they're faced with the world ending, but the girl in front of him is colder. He has no doubts that where Nancy Wheeler would tear down giants for what she believed is right, Robin Buckley would burn the world if it meant saving her people.

"Fine. He'll be back from his patrol-" He didn't remember assigning a patrol schedule and he's not sure if this is Steve's own initiative or if he's been roped into something by Owens' people. "in about twenty minutes. You have fifteen. Now why should I help you?"

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@thelittleclare @jackiemonroe5512 @0body0disphoria0 @strangersteddierthings @lingeringmirth @dead-cherry-bitch @irethsune @ink777 @the-daydreamer-in-the-corner @ledleaf @pansexuality-activated @paintsplatteredandimperfect @kinryuuki @yikes-a-bee @altocumulustranslucidus @samsoble @sensationalsunburst @xxbottlecapx @y4r3luv @swimmingbirdrunningrock @flustratedcas @rootbeerandmusic @vinteraltus @wonderland-girl143-blog @failedstarsandgoldenclouds @steddie-as-they-go @youdrewstarsxaroundmyscars @i-amthepizzaman @croatoan-like-its-hot @maya-custodios-dionach @ineffable-monster-romancer @asquareinverona @iheartjennaaa @ellietheasexylibrarian

Tags that are not working on my end. Most of these Tumblr acts like they just don't exist and others I see accounts similar but 1 word, letter or number off. Please let me know if I put any of these down wrong!!

@anaibis @wormapothacary @lawrencebshoggoth @steveshairspray @samcoxramblings @rocochen20 @ohimamarigold @child-of-cthulhu

#rambler writes #Never Took The Time (To Forget) #nttttf verse #hopper adopts steve #but make it sad #codependent steve and robin #robin buckley #platonic soulmates stobin #stobin are soulmates and you can't convince me otherwise #not a Nancy hater just not really a Nancy appreciater #great character but in a #they're a flawed human who makes fucked up personal life choices while making decent/good save the world choices #ANYWHO #stranger things wip #stranger things fic

[jade-of-mourning]

sorry sometimes i think about mako and my heart hurts so much. this kid raised himself and his brother on the streets in homelessness and utter poverty from eight through fifteen, promptly after seeing the violent death of his mother and father. he turned to the triple threats because they couldn't survive as a pair of wretched kids without any adult support, and the environment forced him to turn into the exact character that killed his parents in a terrible twist of irony. and after sheer-fucking-luck hits and they aren't homeless anymore, their livelihood wavers on the outcome of what's a literally game to everyone but them; and after things are finally starting to look up and their team is going places and things just might be okay, his gradually stabilizing world unceremoniously expands and everything goes to shit.

and the city that chewed him up and spat him back out, ruined him as a child and took away his ability to stay afloat in a true sense of normalcy as an adult — when it's on the verge of destruction and falling to pieces before his eyes, he gives himself to save it with the full expectation to die. he went from the kid who didn't and couldn't care about anything outside of himself and his brother, to finding redemption for his younger self in his police work despite its injustice against him, to willingly sacrificing himself to a world that had never loved him.

he's a desperate people pleaser, socially and emotionally stunted for the adult he had to be as a kid, unable to navigate interpersonal relationships easily yet still trying his damned hardest. he's intensely and entirely devoted to the things that matter to him and for so long it was only him, bolin, and ensuring their survival — yet by the end, that devotion has expanded to protecting the rest of the world. he starts out entirely self-reliant and ends in trusting the people he cares about to know their own needs, to be able to take care of themselves, to be okay without him despite having spent so much of his life defined by his role in others' well-being.

just. what the fuck i'm such a big fan of this fictional guy and i'm unashamed about it at this point. also let him cry please (if you won't i'll do it i'll let him cry)

#lychee's brain trash #mako lok #mako tlok #sorry for the shitpost i don't do a lot of those i realize #how tf did this guy not had a massive break down in canon at any point #nd like;; he never shows resentment for the unfairness of it all #he doesn't ever use his past to excuse any of his choices/actions that are influenced by it #which is pretty intrinsically linked to his relationship fumbles #he just quietly holds himself accountable and probably mildly despises himself haha #as much as i don't care for the love triangle it really does make complete sense in accordance to his backstory #anyway this is just a roundabout way of me expressing my salt at people writing him off as a malicious asshole lol #i literally cannot articulate the intense complex things his conjured up existence makes me feel #this does not even scratch the surface there is SO MUCH #i need to actually write the fifty fics that exist to my brain otherwise all these thoughts will never see the sun #trust that one day the avatar!mako au will emerge from my drafts;;; #and. you know. that one shot i've had in wip for the past 2.5 years #and the four other oneshots that will probably never be converted into actual words

[the-most-pathetic-edge-marquis]

the thing is. once bella goes to volterra it’s over. she will always become a vampire. she doesn’t have a choice--she has a choice about how, maybe, and when, but only within bounds, (and only if she’s willing to give up a normal life and go on the run anyways), and her story will always end the same way. of course she’s going to pick edward, she might as well have an illusion that she’s doing it out of love!!!

twilight is a horror story

#i am a fool and a buffoon who tried to write a 'bella runs away at the wedding' fic #and i have been slamming my head against the impenetrable wall that is the volturi deal for months #so i'm thinking a lot abt this #hmm. #also it doesn't fucking help that edward keeps trying to convince her she DOES have a choice #like. eclipse is (allegedly. loosely. in a very poorly executed way.) abt bella making the choice #& dealing with its consequences #but she doesn't have a choice!!!!!!! #she can't live a human life!!!!!!!!!!!!! #that's how new moon ends!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! #and everyone in eclipse just ignores that?!

[asirensrage]

Mise en Place - A "choose your own adventure" style fic - Part 3

Fandom: Punisher AU Rating: Mature Pairing: Billy Russo x OC Warnings: Dark!Fic, threats, murder, obsession, swearing, violence, blood, and likely more to be added... Summary: Nadine thought her biggest problem was helping to keep the restaurant she worked at afloat as the neighbourhood starts being bought out from under them. A chance meeting in an elevator with an old fling proves differently…

Notes: There's a lot of violence in this chapter. Heed the warnings. The last vote was a tie so I made the final call. Nadine...uses her knives to defend herself.

Part 1 / Part 2 /

Previously: “What are you doing in my house?” “Waiting for you, Nadine.” He grins and steps forward…. 

She doesn’t have a lot of options. The door is locked behind her and if she wants to open it, she would need to turn her back on him. She already knows that’s a bad idea.

“Me? Do we know each other?”

“We will,” he says. Her hand moves to her side, drawing out the wrapped cloth bundle from her tote. She grabs the handle that sticks out first. It’s her boning knife. It sits in her hand like an extension of herself. She drops the bundle back in the tote and puts it on the ground before kicking it out of the way. 

The man looks at it and laughs. With its long thin blade, it doesn’t look like much but she’s used it a thousand times taking apart different animals in her work. It’s familiar in a way that he isn’t. 

“Do you even know what to do with that, girl?” 

She shifts it in her hand, trying not to let the comment rankle. It shouldn’t surprise her. Many don’t know what it takes to reach her skill. She ignores the desire to snap back. He’s large and threatening and she reminds herself that he’s just another animal. She’s broken down many, dozens of times before. She’s not going to make this easy for him. Whatever he succeeds in taking from her will cost him.

“You’re a chef,” he says, trying to antagonize her. “What are you going to do? Mince me?” 

She shifts her weight, setting one foot slightly behind her. It seems to amuse him further. Nadine’s not stupid. She’s a single woman in the city and has always been seen as an easier target due to her size. She’s taken self-defence classes throughout her years at school. He knows her name. She wonders what else he knows about her. 

He lunges forward. 

She pivots on her heel, knife sliding against flesh as she moves out of his way. Blood splatters against the floor as he swears, his hand pressing against the sudden wound.

“Bitch!” 

She simply turns to face him. She can hear her instructor’s voice in her head: make good cuts, let the knife do the work. She’s not using a saw and should avoid the joints but there are other places to cut, ones that will maximize the damage she can do in the time she has to ensure he cannot attack. Tendons and large muscle groups, kidneys and liver. 

He strikes again. He’s not trying to get ahold of her, or do any serious damage.  It’s like he’s playing with her to draw this out. Fucker.

She doesn’t manage to avoid him this time, getting the breath knocked out of her sharply as she’s shoved back into the side table by her couch. She nearly goes toppling over it. She forces herself to breathe through the pain. Focus, she can practically hear her instructor say. Think about the step you’re on, not what comes next. The memory is burned into her from the repetition. 

She darts forward, ducking under his swing and swipes her knife up. It slides into the soft flesh of his armpit and she can feel it scrape across bone before she pulls it out. The man screams. 

It doesn’t stop him though and he uses the moment she needs to retrieve her knife to grab her hair. He yanks it back, taking her with it. She swings the knife down and away from her, catching him on the leg. It slips across and down his inner thigh. He lets go of her hair as he tries to put pressure on the wound. She scrambles back, kicking out and catching him hard in the knee. He falls as she gets to her feet, struggling to catch her breath as she watches the man curse, trying to pull himself away from her. 

How long until he bleeds out? She hit an artery based on the amount of blood that’s spreading around him. She’s never going to get her security deposit back now. She laughs a little, wondering if she might be in shock. Her head is swimming. She’s definitely bruised from where she hit that table. 

He’s still moaning. She’s never actually had to watch something die before. The animals she worked with were always dead first. Maybe she should call an ambulance…It would be easy, she thinks, to even disassemble the body herself but transporting it would be a pain and she still has no clue why he was here or if he was working alone. 

Either way, she needs help.

Where is her phone?

mise en place tag: @muchadoaboutcj @koiwrites @chrissymunson  @nageill

general tag: @raith-way @arrthurpendragon @veetlegeuse @chickensarentcheap @residentdormouse @endless-oc-creations  @stanshollaand @wordspin-shares @chrissymunson

Billy Russo tag: @wheresthesunshinesblog

#fic: mise en place #ridea's choose your own adventure #choose your own adventure fic #make a choice fic #billy russo x oc #mafia!billy russo #dark!billy russo

[sky-kiss]

Okay I had a thought and you can do with it whatever you want... but Raphael speaking infernal is so underrated. Even in game when he casts spells during battle, he doesn't really verbally say anything which is a shame (but is kinda cool if certain beings are powerful enough to cast nonverbally. Either that or my game is hella bugged). When you had that moment in your latest chapter of him speaking infernal to transform that made me 😳Like the way it'd described of being this harsh language and Raphael speaking it just snapped some part of my brain and I'd imagine it'd do something for Joi/Tav too. Like would Raphael still somehow make it sound beautiful (to quote Mamzelle, "a voice that could make the foulest blasphemy seem the sweetest hymn" or it would he still sound harsh but it's still hot because it's flying out of THAT mouth?

__________

A/N: There’s an actor I used to adore who was German, but often spoke a lot of french. So his German would come out with that gentle French lilt. Gonna channel that.

__________

He comes to her in the evening, this devil she loves, and the scent of cherries, sulfur, and musk hangs about him like a shroud. Raphael prowls about her suite like some great cat, his dark head held high. In the hells, his hellfire eyes will light with their inner fire. On the prime material, he’s softer. Warm brown, a touch of honey, almost sweet enough to make her forget. 

“You’re late,” she says. 

He hums lowly. The natural theatricality of the noise does not rob it of its power; Tav shivers. The devil sees; he knows. He always knows. “Ah, but there is such beauty in anticipation, wouldn’t you agree? Desire honed to a knife’s point.” A turn of his right hand, long-fingered and elegant. “Before one tips over the edge.” 

It’s a fine enough point in principle, but less appealing in reality. Their time is short, limited to stolen moments when their schedules align. She has a city to rebuild. He has the lower planes to conquer. 

Her devil smiles, patronizing. “If you feel neglected, mouse, I have already proposed a solution. You’ve only to accept the offered hand.” 

“Join you in Hell?” He nods, eyes wide and lovely. It strikes her that he has cultivated every aspect of this human skin: the smile is so wide, so open, and so nakedly suffused with guile that it wraps back around to innocence. 

Raphael steps close. The scent again: cherries, sweet and delicate. Her devil, wearing sweetness and silk to hide his uglier underbelly. He brushes the fringe of her hair back from her cheek, touch lingering. “Deny me all you like, pet. It shall make the eventual fall all the sweeter.”

Anticipation. Tav shivers. 

Some nights, they fuck in front of the fireplace or on the chaise. Never in the bed. It’s her stipulation. Raphael crinkles his nose at the coarse language and indelicacy of the location. She deserves better, he says. The phrase always comes with an accompanying hand gesture, as if he's framing her for a portrait. Something pretty he can lock away from the world, point at when he wants to feel superior. Admire his wealth, this wild adventurer he’s collared. 

Most nights, they work. Tav shuffles through requisition orders. Raphael amends his contracts. She watches him work, more often than not, gaze flicking across the elegant script. It burns, and there’s an undeniable elegance to the infernal ruins. Tav reaches out to race a line, mouthing the words. She’s out of practice. Infernal is not a pretty language; it fits particularly poorly in her untrained tongue. Raphael rests his chin in his palm, amused by her attempt. 

“Allow me.” 

The devil repeats the phrase. It may as well be a different language. The words drip off his tongue, the harshness erased in favor of a lilting cadence. Tav chews the inside of her cheek, brow furrowed. “Is that…is it a regional dialect? Something distinct to Cania?” 

“In all likelihood, you’ve only heard the lower dialects. The least baatezu are harsh and guttural. The higher speech has a grace to it, provided one is willing to learn. It is a melody, dark and heady as any wine.” Raphael places his hand, palm up, on the table. “Allow me.” Tav sets her hand in his. “Close your eyes, pet.” 

She does. 

Raphael traces lines across her palm, humming to himself. “There are four tongues, sweetling. Lower, lowest, high, highest. For the sake of your sanity, we shall avoid the dialect of the archdevils. But the language of the courts might please you.” 

“And is there a reason my eyes must remain closed?” 

He chuckles, thumb pressing against the veins of her wrist. There is an awful note of potential in the touch; he could break the fragile bones with half a thought. “Feeling, Tav. Like the steps of the dance, it should fill you, move you.” 

She shivers as his fingers ghost up her forearm, featherlight nerve strokes. Raphael repeats the lines of infernal, his fingers drifting up on the mouth melodic stretches, dipping down when the words adopt a guttural edge. It is never grating, never clipped; some of that is exclusively him, years of experience and language marrying in a distinctive vocal pattern. Tav chews her lower lip. She’s too aware of his heat, pinpricks of warmth dancing across her skin as he plays his game.

It is beautiful and dark, and she feels the words on her skin. Raphael traces the runes. Her mind struggles to translate the higher dialect, flowing until it isn’t, succinct until double-meaning creeps into the terminology. Tav feels drunk in the darkness. 

“And now,” his voice is closer, spoken against the shell of his ear. The devil gathers her into his lap. He smiles into the curve of her throat. “The student demonstrates what she’s learned. Come, pet, impress me.” 

He traces the runes on her thighs. Over the skin of her belly. Between her breasts. And if she loses the thread, if her voice gives way, her devil stops. He’ll suck a bruise into her throat, press teeth until they threaten to breast skin, tease, tease, tease…

Anticipation, she thinks, that earlier word flitting across her awareness. 

And her devil is ever patient.

#bg3 raphael #raphael bg3 #raphael x tav #baldur's gate 3 fanfiction #asks #my fic #raphael out here abusing the dark power of his voice #in this house we make terrible choices #im sorry there isnt more language stuff #my latin is SUPER rusty so i didn't risk it

[caelanglang]

『 Is it bad if we’ve grown older, and decided that a world without the person I love is not worth the fuss? 』

In Loving Memory, by @blindblossom

made fanart for that one fanfic that shattered my heart :,)) Here ya go Ellie!

followed some of Yumingli's art tips for this one! here, here, and here.

#tw hanauso #tw blood #slight body horror #woohoo to the angst #finally collected enough confidence and self-esteem to share this #thank you ellie for hyping me up ;w; #this was an art study then i decided to use ellie's fic as the inspo hehehe #the angst is so good #PLEASE READ THE ONE SHOT #the way i didnt even read the tags bc it's written by ellie and I just know its gonna be so so good #AND BOOM ANGST OWWWIEEE AAAAAA #yes the choice of making chuuya look like he's fading is yes #i wanted the hightlight to be on the red stuffs-- the stuffs that are killing him #hehehe did you notice the rose thorn noose ehehehehe #bsd chuuya #nakahara chuuya #skk #soukoku #bsd #bungou stray dogs #chuuya nakahara #roses #i love love love flowers #flowers #my art

[ofmermaidstories]

there’s something so bittersweet and lovely about fanfic, at it’s core. it’s so impermeable, because it’s so individual. fics don’t get finished. fics get lost because they were typed out and sent to friends, in the 70s, and somewhere along the way someone packed it up in a cardboard box and their kids shuffled it to the attic. websites go down. archives get built, but then people lose faith in the story or the canon or the creator and delete them. you read it at like, 3am, and can’t remember the title months later when you look for it again.

the tiktok these comments are from was lamenting about the loss of a favourite fic—it (the tiktok) had 85k+ likes, and over 700 comments, mostly similar to these. people talking about downloading fics to read on a tablet only for them to disappear the next day. using the wayback machine and combing through results, just to find something they loved. i think it’s sweet because it’s so human—how easily we love something, and how easily we lose it. i used to print out my favourite fics, as a kid—i still have a binder of them, buried under yearbooks and the old journals i kept during those topsy turvy preteen years. i could tell you the overarching plot to a Cardcaptor Sakura fantasy AU i read (and loved; it became my personality for months afterwards) but i can’t remember how it ended, or if it even did. i finally broke down and signed up for an account on AO3 specifically to bookmark an old, old fic that i had read somewhere else, years and years and years ago and found again on AO3 only because i accidentally stumbled on the author here on tumblr (i had only found the fic in the first place all those years ago because of a playlist). i used the same shade of lipstick for years purely because a fic i really liked had the main character apply it (it was a limited edition one at the time; i bought my first one from a ebay seller in the UK at double the retail price, lmao) while the love interest watched them, but i can’t remember the name of it, only how it made me feel (and how, for years afterwards, i would wear that shade whenever i felt like the day had something promising to it).

one of the first anon’s i ever got, in the early days of this tumblr, was someone who asked me if it was okay if they downloaded surrender—and of course it was. of course it is. there was a point, during the final stretch when i was trying to write the last chapter, that i almost lost the entirety of what i had written for that fic—and i mean, it was on AO3 by that stage so it would’ve only set me back a chapter or so, but it goes to show how fragile things can be. how sometimes fics only last in tiny ways—because of the unfinished PDF file someone downloads. The patchy memory of someone’s who’s jumbling it and three other fics together. Because someone wore the same shade of lipstick you mentioned, off-hand, for years afterwards.

(this is a love letter to the silent readers; the silent savers. the lurkers. fandom and the internet at large is made of lurkers (eighty-five thousand likes. seven hundred comments). people who saved fics and waybacked them and will reread them, even uncompleted. telling each other we did a good job, that we liked this or we liked that is wonderful, and fun, and a great (and important) way to build a community and has also given me my current friends—but sometimes something you make will matter and live on in a way you will never, ever know. and it’s just how it is. it’s part of the fun and it’s part of the charm. it’s just how we work as people.)

#floating rubbish island: mermaid spam #shall i do a part two for the opposite end of the spectrum? the readers who tell you as they’re rereading? #the ones that come back to point out details that have stuck with them? #sometimes i worry i don’t give enough to those of us in the community who do that #today i got a comment on surrender and it made my whole day—which otherwise would’ve been spent being miserable trying to sweat out my fever #people are so sweet and i feel so empty-handed for them sometimes #because time is so valuable—people don’t *have* to comment #people don’t *have* to note the tiny details #i share these fics because i *want* to—that is a choice i make knowing that maybe people won’t like it or respond to it #no one asks me to spend the time i do on these fics and so no one owes me for it #which makes the time someone *does* spend commenting or tagging or saying hello even more precious

[ingo-ingoing-ingone]

Submas Fandom Positivity Poll!

Enough negativity, I wanna see people talking about what they love most about this fandom!! :D There are some wonderful people here who have made my life better and I wanna see some of the fandom-specific stuff you like the most :)

Enjoy <3

#submas positivity #submas #please remain positive on this post all fandoms have negative things but #this isn't the place okay?? #i just want folks to get to remember why they're in the fandom #because having fun is what matters here okay? #okay!!! #i tried to avoid anything that is a positive but could apply to any nice fandom #like 'artists are extremely nice' #or 'great at uplifting newer creators' #because while that's true of the submas fandom #it has nothing to do with the fact that it's the SUBMAS fandom #y'know? #anyways I chose reunion fics although it was a HARD CHOICE TO MAKE LOL