#post-canon fic

[iamumbra195]

Living Different Lives

"I think the hardest part is choosing between doing what’s right and what’s easy and you still choose to go out and patrol with me, even though you don’t need to. I think Mom would be proud of you for that.” He knew he said the right thing when the other teen relaxed just a smidge, slightly proud of himself for the speech and– “Did you seriously just quote Dumbledore to me while trying to convince me to be a better person?”

Or

Miles Miles-42 bonding with some angst and a sprinkle of Aaron-42

His skin stung as he blocked three consecutive blows and sent a swift kick toward his opponent, letting out a startled yelp when his leg was caught and his other foot was swept out from beneath him, sending him tumbling to the ground.

Miles landed flat on his back, knocking the air out of his lungs as he groaned. “Y’know maybe I should stop holding back so much, you’d win way less,” he groused, throwing his counterpart an irritated look as he pushed himself into a sitting position.

The other Miles, who he had taken to calling Morales, raised an eyebrow, the corners of his mouth twitching in amusement. “Strength only takes you so far and I’d prefer that my bones remain intact. And you’re the one who said you wanted to learn, Spidey.”  

“Yeah, but learning requires you to actually teach and you’ve been having the time of your life beating me up,” Miles argued, giving Morales a flat look when he simply smirked in response.

“I mean, that is a major part of why I agreed to this,” Morales shrugged unrepentantly, ignoring Miles’ indignant protest as he continued. “You telegraph your movements too much. You’ve got a decent foundation but it has a lot of holes, especially when I don’t have to worry about your whole super strength shtick. Plus, you tend to do this thing where you hesitate a little every time you hit– like you’re trying to gauge how much I can take.”

Miles blinked at the surprisingly constructive criticism, mulling over his counterpart’s words as he crossed his legs and leaned back. Monitoring his superstrength had taken him a while to get the hang of but as time went on it became second nature to determine how he could use it during a fight– even during regular daily occurrences.

He didn’t have to worry about it so much when he was with his spider friends but Miles had lost count of how many times he’d accidentally ripped off a door handle or broken a glass cup.

There was even this one incident following everything with Kingpin and the collider, where this one kid from Brooklyn Middle– Fabio or something similar– refused to leave him alone and kept picking a fight every time he saw Miles. He had gotten in Miles’ face and Miles had pushed him, momentarily forgetting that he had powers and sending the boy skidding halfway across the basketball court.

Just thinking about the stunned silence that followed and the frantic explanations that had spilled from his mouth made him want to shrivel up and die, embarrassment curling in his gut.

“Hey,” Morales called as he nudged Miles’ leg, effectively diverting his train of thought before he could fall down the rabbit hole of randomly remembering every stupid thing he’d done since he was old enough to remember.

There was a troubled look on Morales’ face when Miles tilted his head back to look up at him, his eyebrows drawn into a frown that made the tiny wrinkle between them more pronounced. It was the same face he always made when the state of his universe was brought up.

“What’s wrong?”

“How did you tell your mom the truth about the whole… Spider-Man thing?”

Miles was momentarily blindsided by the question before he laughed a little awkwardly. Thinking about that particular conversation sent a rush of both anxiety and relief through him. “I… I was kind of forced to? Not that I didn’t plan to do it eventually,” he added a little hastily despite the fact that neither of his parents were around. “It’s just that after everything with the Spot and the Spider Society I was in a coma for four days and Gwen and the others took me home ‘cause my parents were really worried and then we had to sit down and talk about everything when I woke up… so yeah.”

Morales’ shoulders slumped, his mouth twisting into a bitter line.

“Do you… want to tell your mom?” Miles ventured carefully.

Despite the number of times he had visited this dimension, sometimes even teaming up with the other teen’s alter ego to take down members of Sinister Six Cartel it was always a touch and go when it came to bringing it up when they were both out of their suits.

Morales shrugged in response to his inquiry but his shoulders were lined with tension. “It’s not that simple. Me being the Prowler… it’s nothing like you being Spider-Man. It’s not something Mami would be proud of.”

Miles wet his lips as they lapsed into silence, absently tugging a loose piece of skin between his teeth as he considered his counterpart’s situation. “I think you’d be surprised,” he said quietly, mind drifting back to the many months he’d spent agonizing over what his parents’ reaction would be.

Sure, they hadn’t been ecstatic that he had been putting himself in danger with them being none the wiser on a daily basis and maybe they had gotten a little overbearing and protective but it had been far tamer than anything his mind had conjured.

“I’m a murderer,” Morales spat angrily, shoulders hiking up to his ears as he glared at the ground. “What’s there to be proud of?”  

Miles wasn’t going to excuse that, he wasn’t going to absolve him of his guilt by reassuring him that the people he killed were probably bad people because he didn’t know that, and even then, taking a life was never something he’d condone.

Morales’ choices and actions were his own to address and deal with the consequences of but he still had his whole life ahead of him. He made mistakes, big ones at that but he still had time to change, he could still better himself.

And he was.

Miles had seen it himself in the reactions the residents of New York had to Spider-Man and Prowler patrolling together. There was less fear and more of a wary hope in their faces when they looked at them and it never failed to make something warm swell in Miles’ chest.

And Miles had always been an advocate for second chances.

Perhaps it was because a part of him had always wondered if he could’ve gotten Uncle Aaron to turn his life around, to leave the Prowler behind if he had managed to survive that gunshot. But that was a what-if he didn’t have the luxury of entertaining.

Morales was different. He was a distorted reflection of Miles, one that represented a life that could’ve been his if he was born under different circumstances.

“You made mistakes,” Miles said and continued even as Morales scoffed. “I’m not trying to justify what you did but… you’re trying to be better, right? I think the hardest part is choosing between doing what’s right and what’s easy and you still choose to go out and patrol with me, even though you don’t need to. I think Mom would be proud of you for that.”

He knew he said the right thing when the other teen relaxed just a smidge, slightly proud of himself for the speech and–

“Did you seriously just quote Dumbledore to me while trying to convince me to be a better person?”

Heat rushed to his face and Morales laughed, nothing like his usual amused huff but an actual laugh. It was a little rough, like he wasn’t quite used to making the sound but it made Miles grin.

“Hey, you got my reference, you don’t get to talk, asshole,” he snickered.

“You walk around in spandex and shoot webs from your wrists– I can make fun of you all I want.”

“My suit is cool!”

“It looks like you’re bleeding from your armpits, man.”

Miles threw his arms up in frustration and exaggerated offense– that was like the fifth time someone had said that to him. He had designed another suit after everything but he still liked that one. “Why does everyone keep saying that?!”

“Maybe ‘cause it’s true, idiot,” Morales snorted, letting out an undignified squawk when Miles swept his legs out from under him in retaliation. He bristled like a cat when Miles cackled and somehow they ended up wrestling, his counterpart fruitlessly attempting to get the upper hand strength-wise.

There was an edge of playfulness to it that the other teen rarely indulged in, the harsh breath that escaped him when Miles managed to pin him emerging as more of a scratchy laugh.

“You’re an asshole,” Morales informed him as he threw Miles off and jammed his hands beneath his underarms in a quick dirty move that had Miles flailing, arms slamming down on his sides in a desperate attempt to protect them.

His strength all but abandoned him as he tried to roll away, shrieking with laughter as his counterpart continued his assault with a terribly amused look on his face.

“Stop– stop,” he cackled, ineffectively attempting to glare at him through his laughter– although it mostly alternated between screaming or giggling like a little kid.

“Say uncle.”

“Fuhuhuck you!”

The door opened and Morales froze before drawing away quickly. It took Miles a moment to follow, rolling onto his side and twitching a bit in embarrassment when he saw Uncle Aaron shooting them an amused look.

“You look like you’re having fun. How’s the training going?” he asked.

“He sucks,” Morales answered with no preamble and Miles shot him an offended look, jabbing him in the side with two fingers and the smallest amount of electricity crackling around them. He flinched hard, choking a bit before he gave Miles a withering glare that promised pain if he tried that again.

He was totally going to do it again.

Uncle Aaron huffed, the crow’s feet around his eyes crinkling in amusement.

Something in Miles’ chest stirred and ached at the sight because as much as he had grown used to the man before him, as much as he reminded Miles of his Uncle Aaron, he wasn’t his. He wore the same cologne and listened to the same music but his beard was tinged gray and the jacket he wore wasn’t the same one he used to match with Miles’ own.

“You staying around for dinner, kid?” Uncle Aaron asked him and Miles shook his head.

“Nah, I promised Mami I’d be back for dinner,” he explained, grabbing his phone from where he’d set it on the side in order to check the time. “And I should be going back home soon.” He glanced at Morales. “I’ll see you later?”

His counterpart nodded as Miles began collecting his things. “Thanks, by the way,” he hedged as Miles was just about to dive through the portal back to his own, clarifying when he raised his eyebrows in confusion. “For what you said earlier.”

Something warm bloomed in Miles’ chest, a small smile tugging at his lips. It was weird, becoming friends with someone who looked just like you but remained a completely different person but somehow, in a weird, convoluted way it worked.

“Any time. Tell your mom I said hi!”

Despite all that had happened, he could never quite bring himself to regret accidentally landing on Earth-42.

o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o

I love writing them bickering, it's so funny to me This is kinda inspired by my other fic, Stranger Who Wears My Face, but also not really. It was just a random thing that popped in my head. Fic name is from the song 'Brother' by Kodaline

Check out my other fics and Ao3: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Umbra195/pseuds/Umbra195

#miles morales #prowler miles #earth 42 #spiderverse fanfic #spider-man: across the spider-verse #post-canon fic #character study #miles morales is trying his best #both of them #brotherly bonding #because if they don't have a good relationship by the end of btsv I'm going to commit a homicide #have y'all seen miles-42 #boy looks so tired and done with everything and he probably thinks our miles is one of the marvel villains like chameleon or mysterio #maybe even mystique if mutants exist in his universe #I love exploring their relationship and miles-1610's relationship with Aaron-42 #the angst is just *chef's kiss* #ticklish!miles morales #for like two seconds 'cause I think its cute

[sitp-recs]

HP Rec Fest, Day 29

Thank you @hprecfest for another “easy but not really” prompt lol post-canon is basically everything I read as EWE is my favorite HP tag/era. It was the easiest thing to find 2 gorgeous underrated gems to rec today. I love everything by these authors and actually considered these fics for yesterday’s post but then I realized I could use them for this prompt too, lucky me 🌝 very excited to check everyone else’s picks and find new reads for my weekend!

Day 29) a post-canon fic:

Drarry

The Wand Slipped by @unmistakablyoatmeal (E, 35k)

After a messy, public divorce and a disgraceful exit from the Auror Department, Harry is trying to rebuild his life as a private investigator. But when his ex-wife ends up in St. Mungo's, and Harry's tasked with finding her attacker, he'll have to confront the mistakes of his past, and rely on an old enemy, in order to get closure and move on, and incidentally, solve the case.

this is one of the first fics I’ve read on my return to the fandom in 2019 and I loved it so much it became a comfort fic for me. I remember being mindblown by sdk’s gorgeous writing, the kind that sucks you in within just a few paragraphs. apart from being an immersive case fic, the characterization hits all of my boxes. there’s no better way to describe Harry and Draco here if not intense; their chemistry in and outta bed is so electrifying I found myself salivating over this quiet, sexy and confident Draco who longs for Harry so beautifully. the setting, the plot, the pacing, the tension, the smut! the atmosphere is immaculate and mystery and romance come together seamlessly with a smooth storytelling. if you’re into mature fics with a cool twist at the end, this is the perfect treat for rainy days ☔️

Rare pair

To Me You Are the Sea by marguerite_26 (Harry/Scorpius, E, 8.5k)

Scorpius dreaded attending Harry Potter's fiftieth birthday party for more reasons than he cared to admit.

this fic was my gateway into Scarry and I have such a soft spot for it! I haven’t read many fics where they’re both adults facing adult issues in an established relationship; being an age gap aficionado I found it really refreshing to see those type of struggles addressed here! this is almost 10k but it’s such a smooth read, dirty hot and lowkey angsty, as Harry and Scorpius navigate the increasing tension of keeping their relationship a secret. I adore Harry’s insistence at open communication, Scorpius’ cautious pining and the way they’re so into each other. the smut is scorching hot and intimate, rough shower sex and piss kink are much appreciated as always 💦 but have I mentioned the tender melancholy of it l? the stunning Mediterranean vibes? and gentle but possessive Harry? 🥵 very romantic and with a sweet hopeful ending, you can also check a tiny coda here!

#hprecfest2023 #day 29 #post-canon fic

[starfall-spirit]

Read on Ao3

Part 2

Summary: Tairn and Andarna become a pair of overbearing pains when they find out Violet's pregnant.

AN: This is a silly HEA fic way down the road with no major spoilers

"Come on. I want to get airborn before the flight field is super busy and people try to stop us for things."

Xaden chuckled. "Gods forbid we listen as leaders should."

She scowled. "You know that's not what I meant. But we haven't had a day for just the two of us in months." She threw her arms around his neck, tugging him down to press her lips to his throat. "I want to fly with you. So come on."

He hummed. "I'm starting to think you aren't speaking literally."

"Humans," Tairn grumbled, "either shield, or stop this and get to the flight field."  It was all too easy to imagine her dragon waiting there, tail swishing in agitation.

"Have a little patience,"  she replied, pulling away from Xaden. "We're on our way."

Lacing their fingers together, Violet tugged him towards the entrance nearest the flight field. It was a beautiful morning, the November air biting just enough as they climbed higher to warrant the winter-weight flight jacket the riders would be using through March. Violet smiled as the reached the top where their dragons and several others were either waiting for riders or taking to the skies. The curriculum in Aretia reflected that of Basgiath, especially now that the Navarrian school was under better leadership with the mind to keep things honest. With Threshing two weeks behind them, the novelty of being a rider had yet to wear off and the paired cadets were still flying as often as their classes and dragons would allow it.

Stopping in front of their dragons, Violet smiled. "Good morning," she chirped. "Ready?"

Tairn gave a soft growl. "You will not be flying today. You're in no condition."

"I'm fine. I even brought a heavy jacket. I won't catch a cold or something, Tairn." Her dragon straightened, standing tall enough she had no chance of mounting. Xaden dragged his eyes away from Sgaeyl, trying to puzzle out the private conversation she and Tairn were sharing. She shifted on her feet awkwardly. Their repuation as a bonded pair drew a lot of natural attention, but this display, refusing to let her mount, was taking the cake. She didn't realize being in a public disagreement with her dragon would be so humiliating. "Tairn, do you know something I don't?"

"Dragons do not carry pregnant riders. That, Silver One, should be common knowledge."

Her jaw dropped. "I'm pregnant?"

"Every dragon here knew it from the moment you arrived." His tone seemed to soften a bit. "And not a single one of them would disagree with my position on this matter. You are not to fly or spar until you've delivered the child."

"Violet, what did he just tell you?" Xaden asked, hesitant to pry.

She lifted her eyes to Sgaeyl first. "It is your place to tell him, Violet, not ours."

"Thank you." Though their first few years in each other's orbit had been more about cold assessment than anything else, six years down the road, Violet would dare to say the blue dragon liked her.

"She never disliked you, Silver One, but her fondness has grown."

"Vi?"  Xaden frowned. "Let's go talk. We can come back this evening."

~~~~~

"Care to tell me what you and Tairn know that has my wife looking shell-shocked?"

"That's for the girl to share," Sgaeyl told him, closing the subject entirely. 

"I won't be flying for a while," Violet whispers, hands wrapped around a cup of tea her sister insisted on fixing her when they crossed paths earlier. The two elder Sorrengails lingered like mother hens until Violet finally had enough and headed back to their room to have a private conversation. "A long while, actually."

"Is something wrong with you or Tairn?"

"Not... wrong." She lifted her eyes back to Xaden's, giving him a soft smile as she set her cup down on the nightstand on her side of the bed. "We've been trying for a while now." Her hand slid low over her stomach and he froze. "I didn't even realize until Tairn refused to let me mount this morning."

"Are you serious? You're..." He launched forwards, wrapping her in his arms before lowering them both to lay on their sides. "You're pregnant?"

She nodded, eyes bright. "I take it you're a little excited about that?" she teased.

He had been the one to suggest they stop taking birth control last year. Things had finally settled, they were ridiculously in love with their wedding long behind them, and things were as safe as they were ever going to be. There had been long talks some evenings about that future they'd build. What they wanted to see in the home they welcomed a child to, agreements and disagreements both. But they ultimately knew what they wanted for themselves and their children. A house full of love, where they didn't have to worry about what they'd faced in their own childhood. Their children would not be forced into one quadrant or molded into an obedient soldier.

One little change at a time, they'd build that better life, together.

#fourth wing #riorgail #xiolet #fluff fic #no spoilers #tairn #overprotective tairn #pregnancy fic #post-canon fic

[inukag-archive]

Hello, I just recently seen a post about InuKag SFW Canon list. Does it mean there's also a nsfw canon one or post canon? 👀

Also, thanks a lot for this page! I like your content and I think it's really nice you're helping everyone with fics! The Shiro Bat signal is also funny 😂 Amazing job, honestly, thanks for making time to brighten people s days by helping them find fics ❤️😊

Hello Nonnie! Thank you so much for your kind message -- it really means a lot to our team!

Below is a quick reference for all the canon setting fics (canon, canon div, post-canon) we've done through Sept 30th, 2022 (separated by SFW, NSFW, and MIXED LISTS), eat-up Nonnie!

SFW

Sept 2021 SFW List

Sept 2022 SFW List

Canon Firsts

NSFW

Dark Canon/Canon-Div

Sept 2021 NSFW List

Nov 2021 NSFW List

Realistic Canon

NSFW One Shots

MIXED LIST

Dates In The Modern Era

Post-Canon Oct 2021

Three-Year Gap

New Moon Inuyasha

Alt-Ending/Canon-Modern Era

Fill In The Gap

Post-Canon/Canon Fluff

#inukag archive #inukag fanfic #canon fic #post-canon fic #canon-divergent fic

[goldfinwrites]

Something had changed about Mahiru. He avoided questions about his extended absence, often citing a family emergency. Mahiru always stayed vague and never gave any more details, even when his classmates had tried to press for more information. His normal smile had a closed-off edge to it when questioned (like if he didn’t keep his guard up, something would crawl out from between his teeth).

Something had changed about Mahiru. He had begun to wear the wristband from Sakuya, which was worn-down and slightly frayed in patches, as if it had been used for years instead of a few short months. Several of his shirts had stitches in strange places, even along his back or down the sleeve (and sometimes there was a shallow scar that lined up with the neat repairs). His short hair had gotten longer than usual, making him look a little like the lanky, dark haired guy who sometimes met him at the school gate, not uncommonly with a crow or two fluttering around.

Something had changed about Mahiru. He checked in more often on his friends, asking them how they were doing (and when they answered, his gaze was always fixed on them, as if he could see through to something deep in their core). He walked faster, his steps even outpacing Koyuki, and he sometimes twisted his head to look behind him, even after his friends had caught up.

Something had changed about Mahiru. He felt somehow even more reliable than before, as if he could not only finish sewing the costumes for the school festival, but also knit together broken friendships. His normal mantra of dependability had a new tone to it, almost resolute (and it sometimes felt like Mahiru’s words carried the sound of creaking wood being crushed under a burden it wasn’t meant to bear).

Something had changed about Mahiru. Nobody could put their finger on it, but this Mahiru felt like an unfamiliar version of himself, though not fully a stranger. As if they were looking at a Mahiru from the future, or one that had lived a lifetime once already. His warm, reliable frame now felt just out of reach, almost as if one day he could just vanish into some other world and never be seen again.

Part 2

#servamp #mahiru shirota #post-canon fic #fanfiction #goldfinwriting

[saikolikes]

Hi! You can call me Aki or saiko, I’m a fic writer for the P5 fandom. I multiship a lot but mainly obsess over shuakeshu and royal trio.

You can find me on Ao3 but my main wips are:

• “i dug this grave i call my home” | akeshu accomplice au fic, E rated, currently ongoing but nearing the end. NG+ concept where Akira chooses to side with Akechi and nothing goes as planned. Lots of desperation, feelings, questionable life choices and homoerotic wound tending

• “The floor is where I’ll shine” | aka the sumific. T rated, post-Royal fic focused on Sumire and her journey through the gymnastics world and up to the Olympic final. Lots of gymnastics for a coming of age story that also has Royal Trio in it!

#persona 5 #p5 #persona 5 royal #p5r #p5 fic #shuake #akeshu #shuakeshu #akeshuake #royal trio #akira kurusu #goro akechi #sumire yoshizawa #accomplice au #p5 accomplice au #post-canon fic

[whynotcherries]

Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: Six of Crows Series - Leigh Bardugo Rating: General Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Kaz Brekker/Inej Ghafa Characters: Kaz Brekker, Inej Ghafa Additional Tags: Post-Canon, POV Kaz Brekker, Captain Inej Ghafa, Idiots in Love, Domestic Kaz Brekker/Inej Ghafa, Fluff and Angst, Slice of Life, Hugs, Goodbyes, Healing Summary:

“Kaz,” she interrupts, squeezing his hand gently, “you know I will not stay. Why do you always try to convince me?”

“I must try,” he whispers, a soft smirk on his lips. “I can only hope you’ll give in, one day.”

Or, the moments before Inej leaves again.

#fucking finally had time to write something new <3 #six of crows #six of crows fic #six of crows fanfic #kanej #kanej fic #kanej fanfic #grishaverse #kaz brekker #inej ghafa #kaz brekker fic #inej ghafa fic #post-canon #post-canon fic #grishaverse fic

[goatsorcery]

People Like Us Don't Get Eternity  (Mass Effect Fic)

After the war and the reapers, Shepard, back from the dead for a second time, struggles to find her place in a galaxy that has mourned her as a martyr.

Read complete fic on AO3: Link

Read the first chapter below:

It wasn’t the first time Shepard found herself buried under the weight of rubble after saving the galaxy, though this victory on the Citadel wasn’t one she could just walk away from. She could feel her fingers and toes barely moving as she tried to push herself off the ground. The world around her was hazy, debris still smoldering. But hope came in the form of the red emergency lights that tried to cut through the thick smoke clouding the room. The Citadel still had electricity, at least enough to power some emergency systems. To Shepard, that was all she needed. Some sign of hope that things could continue on after she chose to destroy the Reapers.

Shepard’s consciousness didn’t last long, just enough to notice the emergency lights, and keepers scuttling about. Even if no one found her, she finally felt as though she had won. Though worries about Garrus and her crew plagued her as her vision faded to black once more…

Visions of Harbinger haunted Shepard’s restless sleep. The sound of reapers as they descended on Earth. Flashes of pain in moments of awareness. Shepard instinctively moved her arms, attempting to push whatever heaviness was keeping her pinned down. When her arms felt no resistance, she opened her eyes. The carnage of the Citadel had been replaced with the sterility of a hospital, though still worse for wear. Shepard moved to stand, but felt hands push her back down. “Slow down there, Commander.”

To her left, a doctor she hadn’t noticed before. Shepard didn’t have to look twice to notice the alliance uniform and was relieved to not find herself in Cerberus’s hands again. “Where’s the Normandy? Where am I?” she asked, her voice much weaker than she expected.

The alliance doctor sighed and walked to the far wall. What Shepard had assumed was some sort of service panel was a set of mechanical blinds. The doctor pushed the controls, reveling a familiar view of the Citadel. “You’re at Huerta, commander.”

Shepard, craning her neck, could tell it was in a better state than last she saw it, but there was still much to be done. “The Citadel?”

“Surprised us too, but those keepers really know what they’re doing.”

Shepard stared over the Citadel, looking worse for wear, but clearly nothing that couldn’t be fixed. The catalyst was right about that, at least. Shepard almost feared asking again, after not getting a response the first time. “And the Normandy?”

“Helping to repair the relays. Whatever that weapon did, it knocked everything out.”

Shepard could feel a slight smile on her face, though she found facial expressions to be a bit painful to make. The doctor picked up on this. “Your implants had to be replaced. Say what you will about Cerberus, they did have the upper leg on tech like this. Turian hardware might take some getting used to.”

“Turian?”

“And Krogan as well, actually. They’re still working together, somehow. We’ll see if it lasts.”

Shepard looked out the window again, watching ships zip around as if nothing had even happened. “Are com buoys up?”

“Some have been repaired, but most are still not operational.”

Shepard continued to stare at the Citadel. The alliance doctor could tell that wasn’t actually her question. “We can get a message to the Normandy, Commander, but it’ll take some time.”

“I need to--,” Instinctively, Shepard moved to stand again, but was stopped by her own pain rather than the doctor’s interference. She groaned and leaned back slowly, white-knuckling and gritting her teeth, “I guess I can wait.”

~~~

Though Palaven was one of the first council homeworlds the reapers attacked, it did also have the advantage of being a priority on clean up. Only a handful of months after the reapers’ destruction, and there were already massive restoration projects underway. The galaxy’s unity didn’t dissolve after the end of the war, some out of respect for Shepard’s sacrifice, other’s because they saw that they only way forward was together. The threat of the reapers didn’t leave with them, memories were still fresh, and even if they never faced another reaper again, there were still other things in the galaxy that one species could never handle alone.

The Normandy was assigned to oversee the repairs of the relays, though less so “assigned” and moreso demanded by the Normandy’s new commander, Ashley. As a spectre and dedicated alliance solider, she was Admiral Hackett’s first choice when it came to the decision of replacing Shepard. Though Hackett was aware that Shepard was receiving medical treatment on the Citadel, he didn’t share the hope the doctors had for her recovery, and kept all records of her condition classified even from the Normandy crew.

Ashley was resistant at first. She never saw herself with a command of her own, and certainly couldn’t see herself replacing Shepard. But, if anyone was going to lead the Normandy crew, it wasn’t going to be some outsider. Adjusting to leading the Normandy was smooth enough, though she found herself appreciating how easy Shepard made the job look.

There was always the feeling of being in someone else’s shoes, and it didn’t help that those shoes belonged to the hero of the galaxy, their savior against the reapers. Liara was always the first to protest when Ashley would discount her own abilities, but even with constant reassurance from the rest of the squad mates she never felt like she truly made the cut.

Most days, she was just grateful the Normandy was still in one piece, with all her crew inside. She found comfort in fact the old squad stayed. When the war ended, and the dust settled, Ashley feared they’d all go back to their home worlds leaving her to lead a new crew alone. But, with travel so limited, there wasn’t much of a chance to.

Garrus got lucky that his home system was part of Normandy’s mission. The relay in Apien’s Crest was vital to the surrounding systems, and the Normandy was tasked with overseeing its repairs, along with deliveries of supplies to Palaven. Somehow, Garrus’ family had made it off Palaven alive, and saw them often as their duty as Turians dictated they help repair the relay as well. With Palaven how it was just a few short months ago, it felt surreal to see it get back on its feet so soon.

The Normandy felt the same way. Though it had been mostly spared from serious damage and its crew compliment was nearly identical, the ship still felt off. When not paying too close attention, one could mistake it for the Normandy SR1, back when everyone was comfortable believing reapers were just a myth. But Garrus felt the obvious emptiness, the elephant in every room. Long calibrations in the main battery were mostly silent and lonely, except for the occasional interruptions from Tali or Liara checking in on him.

Passing by the names of those they lost made it hard to walk to a simple elevator ride or to go to crew quarters. Shepard’s name on a plaque, the only thing that really had changed about the ship. There were more times than he wanted to admit that he’d press the button for the captain’s quarters, not thinking. Once, after doing shots with James, Garrus made it all the way to the door of the captain’s quarters before realizing his mistake. Ashley was of course understanding when she opened the door, but Garrus couldn’t help but feel like a burden.

He knew Shepard would want him to move on, to find happiness and direction without her, but a part of him was still not convinced he had to. During late night strolls around the ship, Garrus would contemplate taking the plaque down. He had regretted it since the moment he hung it up but realized that moment was more for the rest of the squad than it was for him. He worried it was his own stubbornness rather than actual chance that made him believe Shepard was still alive. There had been so many close calls before, this just didn’t feel like the end to him. Everyone else seemed to stroll around as normal, Garrus didn’t want to believe Shepard wouldn’t get that chance as well.

After getting drunker than responsible one night with Tali in the lounge, Garrus passed by the wall of names again. Something drew him to it, probably the turian ale overrunning his system, enough that all other considerations were put aside. He took the plaque and launched it out an airlock.

The next morning, the plaque’s absence was immediately noticed. Garrus swore it was a dream, but the empty space above Admiral Anderson’s name made it clear. Though, it didn’t last long. By that afternoon, another plaque had been printed and hung on the wall, identical to the last as if nothing had changed.

“You think it was one of the new recruits as some kind of joke?” Tali said as she tried and missed getting a straw in her induction port.

“Who would joke about something like that?” Liara’s serious tone overshadowed her drunken state. She leaned back and took another sip.

“Yeah, new recruit hazing is bound to happen, but I don’t know.” James took a shot and refilled his glass, then refilled for Ashley and Garrus as well.

Gathering in the lounge for drinks had become a regular recurrence, though tonight Ashley was too distracted by work on her PDA to notice. However, Garrus slammed his shot down quick, trying to avoid saying anything that might worry them. “We’re still all so caught up on this? There’s a new one up already.”

But he realized that wasn’t quite the right thing to say either, as they all turned to him, even getting Ashley to look up from her PDA.

“Sorry,” Garrus quickly caught himself. “Just seems silly.”

Liara set her glass down a bit too hard, “After everything she sacrificed, least she deserves is a plaque without it being desecrated.”

“You think I don’t know that,” Garrus stood, bumping the table and tipping some glasses, though James’ reflexes caught the bottle. “I’m just tired of acting as though some plaque is any consolation.”

He turned to leave, bumping the table again, but everyone grabbed their glasses in time. As soon as the doors shut behind Garrus, they all turned to each other. James poured himself another shot, “So, Garrus definitely took the plaque down, no?”

Tali sighed, “I’ve been worried he’s still in denial.”

“I’ve been monitoring alliance and Citadel communications since they started cleaning up debris, just in case there’s any word of…” Liara trailed off, she didn’t have to finish her sentence. “But, I haven’t heard anything yet.”

Ashley set down her PDA and took her shot, “It’d be nice for closure, at least. You catch anything about Shepard’s mom?”

Liara shook her head, “Not since she tried to reach out to Garrus.”

“He never responded?”

“He didn’t know what to say,” Tali said, “What really is there to say?”

They all stared a moment at their empty glasses. “At least there’s a Shepard still running around the galaxy,” James said as he filled his glass again.

~~~

Shepard stood at the window, staring out over the Citadel, propping herself up against the wall. Her doctors had warned about standing for extended periods of time while her new implants healed, but she was tired of laying around. It was the first time in a long time where she wasn’t off to fight some threat, or save a colony, or build an army, and all she could do was stare as the Citadel slowly became itself again.

BEEP. The telecom on the wall flashed, though Shepard didn’t turn to see it. “You have a visitor, Commander.”

Before she could ask who, Admiral Hackett stepped into the room. Shepard’s muscle memory brought her arm up to salute, though her healing implants had other ideas, sending a wave of pain through her arm, causing her to grimace. Hackett threw up his hand, “You don’t have to do all that for me, Shepard. You’re the one worth saluting here.”

Shepard tried to remain standing, but quickly grew tired without the wall to support her. Hackett moved a chair over to her, which she thanked him for as she sat. “I have to admit, I’m a bit surprised to see you on your feet at all, Shepard.”

“You really think anything can keep me down for long?” She said, a bit out of breath.

Hackett let out a short, dry laugh, “Your track record does prove otherwise.”

He moved to the window and looked out over the Citadel. “If you had told me when the reapers attacked Earth that we’d be here today, able to talk without a looming threat… actually I believe you did a few times. But I couldn’t fathom it, none of us could.”

Shepard considered telling Hackett about the true nature of the crucible and the catalyst, but she wondered if it was real anyhow. The last thing she remembered for sure was Hackett’s voice telling her to activate the weapon and pressing the button to launch. For all she knew, the catalyst and the choice was all in her head. She repeatedly went over it in her mind, but every time it felt more like a dream. She couldn’t decide which option was more comforting; that it wasn’t a choice, or that it was.

“About the Normandy…”

Hackett turned from the window, “I know you’re eager to return to the field, Shepard, but your implants are experimental, the doctors don’t know how well they’ll do under strain.”

Shepard hated this answer, and Hackett could see, which put him at in worse position to deliver more bad news. “The fact is Shepard, saying these implants are experimental was an understatement. I’m sure you’ve intimidated the doctors into telling you the origin of the implants. They’re newer than the Turian-Krogan alliance, with even more growing pains.”

“No shit.”

“Until you woke up a few days ago, no one believed you ever would, and I’m sorry to admit that included me. You’ve walked away from worse Shepard, but these implants don’t have the research or the funding that Cerberus did. That blast wiped out the reapers, but it destroyed the tech keeping you alive as well. If the keepers had delayed repairs on the section we found you in, there would’ve been no bringing you back this time.”

Shepard looked to her arms, the implants much more noticeable than her Cerberus ones, metal and glowing lights shining from beneath the skin. “This was a shot in the dark.”

“If there was a chance, we weren’t going to risk losing you, but we didn’t set our expectations high.”

“Highly classified.”

“Of course.”

“How classified?”

“Besides myself, the doctors you’ve seen, and a small team of turian and krogan scientists, everyone believes you died alongside the reapers. You’re a hero, Shepard, I want you to understand that.”

Shepard scoffed, it was like waking up in the Cerberus lab all over again, accept it was a familiar face telling her the news this time. Dead to the galaxy… again, with promises of glory as the only prize. She gestured to her implants, “They don’t expect them to work?”

“Like I said, they haven’t been field tested. They were modeled with the data we had, using your old implants as the blueprint, but our records are incomplete, and Cerberus intel is hard to come by these days. Most of their data was wiped by remaining operatives after the Illusive Man’s disappearance.”

Shepard noted another thing to probably not tell Hackett about. “When can I field test them then?”

“As soon as the doctors are assured that your condition is stable, you’ll need to be at your best when everyone finds out the galaxy’s hero survived all this.”

“No pressure.”

“That’s why I’m urging caution on this. Take things slow, Shepard. You saved the galaxy, but there’s still a place for you as we rebuild, when you’re ready.” Hackett glanced at the console on the wall. “You should get rest, Shepard. In the meantime, I’ll see what I can do about contacting the Normandy.”

“Thank you, sir.” Shepard tried to stand to salute as Hackett left, but she couldn’t muster the strength.

“At ease, solider.” he said, as the doors closed behind him.

Rest and ease weren’t words Shepard was really familiar with, and she didn’t feel like spending the time getting acquainted with them now. Every morning, she walked laps around her room, repped push-ups against the wall; baby steps to get her back in action. The doctors were impressed with her progress, but worried that her small hospital room would soon no longer be enough to contain her. Hackett had concerns launching Shepard back into action so quickly. Her loss deeply affected a galaxy that was so grateful for her sacrifice. Seeing her return now, and not be the Shepard they remember, could cause a range of problems. He doubted people would just believe Shepard suddenly came back from the dead, as a return of the Shepard VI or a clone seems more likely than supposed resurrection.

But Hackett knew keeping Shepard out of the ring could be even worse. Unity was holding, for now. As the council species rebuilt their strength, he feared they may not feel the need to rely on each other for much longer. Shepard brought them together, and she was the galaxy’s best chance of keeping it that way for the time being.

His decision to keep Shepard’s condition a secret from even those closest to her was a tough call on Hackett’s part. While he felt the Normandy deserved the truth about their commander, false hope seemed more cruel than lying. Attempts to avoid messages from Hannah Shepard were particularly difficult. With Shepard’s quick recovery, he doubted he made the right call, and worried what would happen if knowledge of her survival got out.

Hackett knew to keep things especially discreet to avoid any detection by the Shadow Broker, but knew a day would come that something would slip through the cracks.

“As I said,” Glyph’s robotic voice echoed off the walls of Liara’s room, “A complete sweep of the Citadel has been completed, based on the complied records of the council, alliance, keepers—”

“I understand that... I…” Liara typed frantically on her console, sorting through the records Glyph was referring to. “I just don’t believe they didn’t find anything.”

“Based on complied records from—”

“Thank you, Glyph.” Liara said, sharply, more of a command than a courtesy.

Glyph returned to his station, and Liara focused in on her data, bringing up all records on the Citadel’s clean-up. Every log, communication, transmission, docking, records of scavengers selling off reaper tech as souvenirs. Nothing about Shepard’s remains or even a trace of her.

“Maybe it was foolish to think there’d be anything to…” Liara said, to Glyph or herself, not able to finish the sentence without breaking into tears.

This was the second time she’d lost Shepard in this way, though the last time they were lovers. Though their relationship was different, Liara felt just as dedicated to finding Shepard now as she was then, even if it was just to lay her to rest. There was never any animosity between the two of them when they parted. Liara had changed over the two years Shepard was gone, and Shepard, back to life, was changed as well. There was the occasional jealousy when Shepard would spend her time with Garrus, but Liara was more focused on Shepard’s happiness, and Garrus really made her happy.

Digging again and again through all her compiled records, Liara just couldn’t fathom there being not a trace of Shepard left on the Citadel, not even ashes. The keepers records were very thorough as they catalogued everything they came across during the restoration. That combined with the alliance, council, and other efforts, someone had to have come across something. Liara would settle for a just a shred of Shepard’s armor.

Otherwise, Liara couldn’t shake the feeling that Shepard wasn’t really gone.

#mass effect #mass effect fic #mass effect fanfiction #shepard x garrus #femshep #f!shepard #destroy ending #post-canon fic #commander shepard #garrus vakarian #liara t'soni

[renamusing]

ceremonials ch4: ao3

kagura returns to earth to shocking news, whilst gintoki and hijikata struggle to make the most of their weekend away. everybody gets acquainted with the meaning of family.

#fic update #ginhiji #gintama #post-canon fic #happy holidays to those who celebrate #this fic contains spoilers for the end of the manga #and gintama the final

[retellingthehobbit]

Retelling The Hobbit Chapter 16: The Song of the Lonely Mountain First chapter / Previous / Next

To view full comic: Webtoon/A03 / Tumblr post with links to all chapters

Other blogs: TikTok/Instagram/Tumblr Sideblog

*crumbles into dust after finishing this* Thank you for reading! This The Hobbit webcomic adaptation thing takes a lot of effort to put together and I can’t tell you how much I appreciate every comment. I also really appreciate the people who’ve spread the word of this comic to their friends! <3

And finally, we’re at the Song of the Lonely Mountain! Within Tolkien’s canon, The Hobbit is an in-universe book that was “written” by Bilbo Baggins, who occasionally lies/embellishes/exaggerates things. The tonal differences between The Hobbit and Lord of the Rings are explained by Bilbo and Frodo/Sam being different kinds of storytellers, with different relationships to “the truth.” This idea is the core of how I’m adapting the novel!  Bilbo is an unreliable narrator who is literally ‘drawing’ from his own limited experiences;  the different art styles reflect the different perspectives of other characters.   The “dwarf art style” in this chapter is inspired by stonework/metalwork in general— but especially by a mix of art deco, Celtic art, and European folk art. 

The central tension of the comic is between Bilbo and Thorin, who each have wildly different ideas about what kind of  story they’re in. Thorin is in a grand fantasy epic, while Bilbo is in a lighthearted children’s book adventure.  The tragedy is, obviously, that only one side of the story ever gets to be fully told.

On a sillier note, a few years ago I had my first gay crush on a lesbian who sang while playing the piano. This chapter is dedicated to the piano lesbian. I hope they’re doing well, wherever they are. XD

I think I might need a bit of a break but I’m hoping for the next chapter, titled “Dawn,” to arrive on January 13th. And your comments/support really do help motivate me to get more done! ^_^

#lotr #the hobbit #bagginshield #the hobbit comic #retelling the hobbit #lord of the rings #thorin oakenshield #bilbo baggins #YEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEET #anyway *crumbles into dust* #the slowest burn bagginshield fic of all time??? #it will become canon in approximately 84 years #i would say its the most high effort fanfic in the hobbit fandom but ive got lots of competition for that #god works hard but Hobbit fans work harder and etc etc #long post

[iamumbra195]

Home Is Where The Heart Is

(Spider-Verse Fanfic) “Miles?” Panic sparked in his chest at the sound of his mother’s voice and he shot up from the ground, moving to grab his jacket only to hesitate just inches away. Did he want to keep lying to them after this? Did he want to bear the loneliness of it once again, to hide that part of him from the very people who he’d fought to protect for days on end?

Or

Miles tells his parents about him being Spider-Man

In the aftermath of the battle against Spot, Miles had swung home on a broken leg, several fractured ribs, a concussion, and a sprained ankle. His body was bruised and aching all over but he couldn’t bear to stand in the wreckage that had been left behind in the wake of their fight.

Not when he knew his parents would be home waiting for him.

His phone had gone missing somewhere in the last two days but the hazy fog in his mind and the sharp jolt of pain that shot through his body with every movement was too overbearing to focus on anything besides swinging as safely as he could.

The sight of his window was like a breath of fresh air and he crawled through it without a care for subtlety. He slumped to the ground, his breath coming out ragged and faint as he lay motionless on the ground. The smell of home– his home– was soothing, wrapping around him like a warm blanket as his eyes burned with tears and the events of the last two days crashed down on him all at once.

He was so tired.

He had been chased and beaten down by hundreds of people– some of them being his friends, he had been stranded in another world with another version of himself, he had been fighting Spot on his own while the others handled Miguel, his dad and mom had almost died –

It was too much.

He wanted his dad, he wanted the sense of security that came with his hugs and the sweet nothings he would whisper when Miles was still young enough to go to his parent’s room when he had a nightmare.

And that was exactly what this was; a nightmare.

Only it was one he couldn’t wake up from.

His breath hitched and his eyes blurred with overflowing tears that he blinked away.

“Miles?”

Panic sparked in his chest at the sound of his mother’s voice and he shot up from the ground, moving to grab his jacket only to hesitate just inches away.

Did he want to keep lying to them after this? Did he want to bear the loneliness of it once again, to hide that part of him from the very people who he’d fought to protect for days on end?

The door creaked open before he could come to a decision and he shrouded himself from her view, watching as his mom’s face crumpled at the sight of his empty room before she closed her eyes (they were brownbrownbrown, not green, brown like his). His stomach churned with guilt at the sight of the pained expression on her face.

He’d never wanted to hurt her or his dad when he became Spider-Man but the longer time went on the more it seemed like this power– this responsibility was a curse he couldn’t get rid of. He wanted them to be proud of him, not to look at him and wonder where they had gone wrong, where they had failed him.

They always supported him, always tried to understand and maybe his dad was a hardass at times but he had been trying to understand Miles’ perspective ever since Uncle Aaron died. It was Miles’s own inability to tell them the truth that slowly caused the rift between them to grow, the fracture in their relationship that his father had fought so hard to mend.

It was his fault.

“Mami,” he called softly just as she was about to leave, slowly flickering into visibility when she wheeled around to face him, her face lighting up with relief.

“Miles! We were so worried – ”

Her voice broke off when she saw the condition he was in, her face falling in alarm– the torn suit, the uncomfortable way he hunched over himself, the dried blood staining his face.

“... Miles?” she whispered softly, her voice tinged with horror that forced him to tear his gaze away from hers, unwilling to see the look on her face as she drew closer hesitantly– warily, his mind whispered venomously.

His lips trembled as his eyes burned with tears once more, suddenly terrified of the vulnerability that came with exposing this part of his life to his mother. Something thick lodged itself in his throat the longer the silence stretched, a mix of fear and dread swirling in his chest as his mind raced through hundreds of scenarios.

What if she didn’t accept it, what if she shunned him, what if–

Warm hands encased his face, guiding his gaze up to meet his mother’s as she crouched next to him. There was no accusation in her eyes, only intense worry and fear– for him, he realized a moment too late. “What happened, mijo?” she asked carefully, like he was glass on the verge of shattering.

His face crumbled, lurching forward to hug her as tears slipped down his face. “I’m sorry, I didn’t– I’m sorry,” he sobbed into her shoulder, a mantra of broken apologies escaping his lips as he clung to her as if he were a child.

She didn’t hesitate to hug him back, soothing the edge of jagged, icy panic in his chest as her arms wrapped around him in a tight enough grip that it was reassuring, grounding as something brittle and frail crumbled inside him.

She smoothed a hand over the back of his neck, an act that was usually comforting but sent a shudder of pain down his spine thanks to the still-bleeding welts and she pulled away just a little concern etched into her face. Her eyes glistened with unshed tears and that same terrified look she’d had in her eyes before– terrified that she would lose her son, terrified because of Miles.

“Miles? Qué te pasa? Where are you hurt?” Mami asked frantically, pulling back further to examine him.

Miles wanted nothing more than to fall asleep and pretend that the last two days hadn’t happened, to bask in the unspoken promise of safety and security his parents’ presence exuded but he knew he had to do something about his injuries lest they heal wrong.

It had happened once when May was still around and she had broken his nose all over again before setting it right and sending him home.

He took a few deep breaths before wiping his tears away and collecting himself as best as he could with the frayed strings of his emotional stability, grimacing at the overpowering scent of his own body odor along with the sickeningly familiar metallic scent of blood.

Nausea bubbled in his stomach all of a sudden, his head swimming and pounding as black spots danced across his vision. He managed to spit out his injuries before what leftover adrenaline had been fueling him diminished and he faded out of consciousness

The next hour or so was a blur for the most part with Miles floating in and out of consciousness, catching little snippets of what was happening around him. He caught sight of his dad at one, a wave of relief loosening the anxious knot in his chest before he finally drifted to sleep.

Miles woke up slowly, blinking his eyes open before letting them fall shut again, content in the space between sleeping and waking as he buried his face back into the soft pillow bracketing his head. The blankets wrapped around him were heavy and warm, their weight comforting. He breathed softly, unwilling to move despite the fact that his mind was slowly beginning to become more aware.

He shifted a little, tugging his blankets tighter around himself and savoring the warmth. Most of the pain he’d been suffering through before had dulled to a faint throbbing ache that hardly even registered as he settled into a more comfortable position.

Blunt nails gently scratched his scalp and he relaxed into the sensation, eyes fluttering shut as he let out a content sigh. It took a few more seconds for him to reluctantly wonder where he was, blinking the sleep from his eyes as he turned his bleary gaze up to see his dad sitting by his head.

The events of last night suddenly came rushing back and Miles shot up from his bed– the living room couch– a knot of terror and panic forming in his chest.

“Whoa, whoa, whoa. Everything’s okay, Miles,” his dad reassured him hastily, hands firmly gripping his shoulders and forcing him to look at the steady, comforting expression on his dad’s face. “Everything’s okay.”

“Do you… know?” Miles croaked, terrified once more of the vulnerability that came with his parents knowing about that side of his life. He wanted to tell them but his dad’s disapproval often rang in his mind when he contemplated doing so.

Dad’s face did something weird, looking almost pained as he closed his eyes for a short few seconds. “Yes, your mother was…” he trailed off before shaking his head. “Yes, I know about you being Spider-Man.”

Hearing it said out loud felt like a dirty secret had been made public, something private and personal aired for all to see. Something to be ashamed of when it was usually something that brought him a sense of pride and accomplishment.

“I’m sorry,” was all he managed to say, a pathetic apology for countless things– Uncle Aaron’s death, the numerous sleepless nights his dad had endured thanks to his positive relationship with Spider-Man, the fight with Spot.

The look on his dad’s face softened into something weary as he scrubbed his face. “...I’ve watched you almost die so many times in over a year. I saw you fight Kingpin… Miles, you could’ve died so many times yesterday and I wouldn’t have had any idea,” he said, his voice strangled like he was going to cry.

“Dad, I wasn’t… I was fine,” he tried to reassure, the defense lame to his own ears.

Dad bristled and Miles’s shoulders curled up to his ears when he turned to him with an incredulous expression on his face. “ Fine? That’s what you call fine?” he hissed.

“Jeff,” his mom warned as she stepped into the room, looking just as exhausted as his dad, who deflated, anger bleeding away just as quickly as it had come.

“Sorry. This is a lot. This…” Dad trailed off without finishing his sentence.

Miles knew he needed to explain, needed to say something so the words that spilled from his mouth were unscripted, nothing like the scenarios he had built in his mind because this wasn’t the way he wanted them to find out.

“I– I’m sorry, I didn’t want to lie to you but I didn’t know what else to do and I was scared you wouldn’t– I didn’t know what else to do. After Uncle Aaron–”

Dad sucked in a sharp breath, disbelief and horror etched into his face. “You were there. In the alley with Aaron last year, you were that Spider-Man– Miles, I pointed my gun at you! I could’ve hurt my own–”

Now both his parents looked terrible, exhausted and scared all because of him.

“It’s not your fault, Dad,” Miles whispered, desperate to reassure his father but terrified of their rejection all the same.

He took a deep breath, trying to steady himself so he could properly explain without tripping over his words. Somehow telling his parents the truth seemed more daunting than anything he’d ever done, the prospect of their rejection hanging over his head like a herald of bad news.

The nightmares of their disapproval, of being sneered at or thrown in jail or out of the house even though he knew they would never do that haunted him day and night, his lies heavy on his tongue but the icy rush of fear that shot through his body was terrible in comparison.

“I wanted to tell you for so long– I knew I needed to tell you after everything with Spot. But there were people like me, other spider-people so I thought that I had people in my corner, that I would be okay but they didn’t– they didn’t listen to me. You were right, Mom, they didn’t– I didn’t belong there, they didn’t accept me. I broke my promise, I know but I… I know I should’ve told you and I was trying to… it was just complicated. I was scared you’d make me give up Spider-Man, that you wouldn’t… love me the same.”

His last few words were said in a barely audible whisper but they rang in the silence following his explanation, a weight falling off his shoulders when they finally slipped from his mouth before it was quickly replaced with heavy dread.

His gaze flitted between his mother’s crestfallen expression, like he had broken her heart with how much he doubted their love for him, and his dad… Dad looked the same way he had the day of Uncle Aaron’s funeral, conflicted and heartbroken all at once, his eyebrows drawn into a soft frown that made it look like he was going to cry.

Neither of them said anything, the silence growing heavier with every soft tick of the clock fixed on the wall and Miles barely managed to refrain from fidgeting, limiting himself to picking at the skin around his nails.

“Oh, Miles,” his mom said softly, pain clear in her eyes as she drew closer, cupping his face carefully like he was something fragile, something precious. “We love you, we’ll always love you no matter what. Don’t ever doubt that. As much as I hate the idea of you putting yourself in danger, you came home and that’s what matters most. I’m sorry we made you feel like you couldn’t trust us.”

Tears burned in his eyes for what felt like the millionth time and he blinked them away, shaking his head a little. “It’s not your fault… I trust you, I just… I didn’t want to hurt you. Me being Spider-Man almost got you killed last night.”

“No,” Dad denied fiercely and Miles’s eyebrows furrowed in confusion. “I don’t understand much of what was going on with you and those other… Spider-people but we chose to go out last night because it was our job. Our responsibility.”

Oh, how Miles hated that word.

Sometimes he wished his dad hadn't picked a career that put him in the direct line of fire of multiple villains, armed with nothing but a gun and his face bared for everyone to see.

“Spot attacked because of me, he wanted to… he said he wanted to take everything away from me, that he was going to destroy everything. If I had just–”

“Miles, you can’t dwell on the what-ifs. You did the best that you could and you stopped him,” his dad interrupted, reaching out and squeezing his shoulder gently. “I’m proud of you, Miles.”

The last of the tension in Miles’ body bled away with that admission and he threw himself at his dad, wrapping his arms around the man and hugging him as hard as he could without hurting him.

Dad let out a quiet oof, before hugging Miles back just as fiercely and pressing a kiss to the top of his head. He melted into the steady security that came with being in his dad’s arms, warmth curling in his chest at his dad’s acceptance.

“You know this doesn’t mean I’m letting you off the hook?”

“Dad,” Miles huffed.

Mami laughed quietly as she joined the hug, her arm resting over his shoulders and her hand rubbing absent circles on his bicep.

“Spider-Man or not, I’m gonna be on your ass from now on and you better check in with me and your mother every time you go out, you got that?”

Miles flushed at the deliberate callback to the little remark he’d made during his conversation with his dad as Spider-Man, shrinking a bit in embarrassment before fully processing what his dad said and what?

He gaped at his dad, pulling away just enough to see his face and attempt to detect any deception in his eyes.

“You mean… you’re not going to make me stop? You’re okay with me being Spider-Man?”

“We wanted to,” Mami said softly and Miles’ stomach sank a little bit. “We’re proud of all the good you’ve done but we’d never be okay with the idea of you putting yourself in harm’s way. We’ve seen you pick up cats from trees, we’ve seen you save people from fires and it will always scare me to see you jump off buildings with nothing but a web to hold you. But we know you, we know you won’t stop even if we try to tell you to stay put. I’d rather be able to watch over you than have you running around behind my back.”

A part of him wanted to protest and say that he wouldn’t completely disregard their words but he knew he wouldn’t be able to sit still while others were getting hurt. For all that his father ranted about Spider-Man and how much he disliked him, the ideals Spider-Man upheld and the ideals he’d instilled in Miles were one and the same.

He had the power to fight back and do his part, how could he possibly hide in his home, pretending that he couldn’t make a difference when he could?

He hugged both his parents, squishing them all into one tightly knit embrace.

“Okay, I gotta ask. Do the webs come out of you or–”

“Dad, Miles groaned, an exasperated grin pulling at his lips with the familiar question.

“What? My son is Spider-Man, I think I have the right to ask that now.”

Maybe Miles had failed to fulfill his promise to his mom but he would always, always come back home.

o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o

I love the morales family with my whole heart

I rewatched some parts of the movie to write this and Rio's speech is so cute, she cares about Miles so much that it made we wanna cry I wanted to write Jeff as like a sturdy presence in Miles' life because no matter how much they argue, his dad is always there when he needs it most but I also wanted to write his foot-in-mouth syndrome so we got this as a result Plus, the symbolism and double meaning with Rio's speech and Miles coming home and not getting lost, and then he tried to do that at the end of the movie but got stranded on E-42- ugh, Miles and his family mean so much to me, I have so many feeling about them

Check out my Ao3 for my other fics: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Umbra195/pseuds/Umbra195

#miles morales #identity reveal #spider-man: across the spider-verse #spider-man #spiderverse fanfic #post-canon fic #family feels #jefferson morales #jeff morales #rio morales #miles morales is trying his best XD #rio and jeff are awesome parents #i love that whole family they deserve the world and if any of them die in the next movie #i will riot #if gwen or peter b die i will riot as well because spider-man needs a happy ending for once in their lives #and the spider-man better miles and the rescue gang #and if pavitr fades out of existent i will murder someone

[iamnmbr3]

7 most unhinged canon drarry moments

Harry calling Draco his arch nemesis just a few months after Lord Voldemort tried to murder him for the second time but also immediately thinking that he kinda misses him

Harry getting hit in the head by a piece of luggage because he got so distracted by the sight of Draco changing that he didn’t notice someone swinging a large object at his face

Harry lying to the Order and Magical Law Enforcement to obfuscate Draco’s crimes at the end of sixth year

Voldemort immediately assuming Draco has gone looking for Harry when he goes missing during the Battle of Hogwarts…and being right

Narcissa assuming Harry will know where Draco is and if he’s still alive…and being right

Lucius getting mad at Draco in book 2 because he has spent the entire summer talking nonstop about Harry Potter

Harry forgetting about the time Voldemort possessed and nearly murdered Ginny but remembering every item he saw Draco look at in Borgin and Burkes 4 years previously

#This ship is so accidentally canon it’s ridiculous. Fics are literally subtler #Harry Potter #hpdm #harry potter/draco malfoy #harry potter x draco malfoy #Draco Malfoy #drarry g #random musings #drarry #drarry in canon #my post

[coffeecatcraze]

The fact that Vaggie knew it was a HORRIBLE idea for her to go to Heaven because there were so many things that could go wrong and so many bad memories there, but her girlfriend needed her and she couldn't say no to her cute face; the fact that the headstrong, optimistic, determined, powerful Princess of Hell knew she couldn't handle taking this huge step alone and the only one person she could imagine being by her side in that critical moment was Vaggie.

The fact that even when she felt so hurt, heartbroken, and betrayed and tried for a second to deny it, Charlie never stopped loving Vaggie, still referred to her as her girlfriend, and had full faith that she was completely succeeding in her task (getting detailed sensitive information from a weapons-dealing Overlord) while Charlie herself was struggling and failing with her own.

The fact that even with Charlie so upset that she intentionally threw a painful commentbat her (a comment with a subtle double meaning, though Charlie herself was definitely NOT thinking clearly enough to realize that implication and only meant to make a jab at the secret-keeping), Vaggie still wanted so desperately to protect Charlie out of love that she regrew angelic wings despite having been in Hell for years.

The fact that one gesture from Charlie told Vaggie everything she wanted to say to her, and that mutual understanding was so complete that she didn't hesitate to run to her knowing she would be accepted because her girlfriend still loved her and forgave her.

The support, love, and intimate understanding these two share even when things are hard and painful is so beautiful. They've been together for years; they've been through so much; and it's wonderful to have that respected and portrayed canonically instead of dipping into that easy, fan-craved trope of dramatically heavy relationship angst. I'm glad they left that angst itch to be scratched by fanworks instead, because these ladies aren't that type.

They are powerful; they are determined; they balance and complete each other; and most importantly, they are so head-over-heels and experienced in their love for each other that it took one day for Charlie to deeply consider everything and fully reconcile with Vaggie, who never doubted her even for a second. Their relationship isn't just established; it's stable, and I love to see that for a wlw couple. <3

#hazbin hotel #chaggie #vaggie #charlie morningstar #i usually caption my gifs but i am Tired and wanted to post chaggie appreciation on valentine's day #so have this before i fall asleep! <3 #not all queer couples need long dramatic relationship angst arcs! #we need more queer ships like this <3 #and don't get me wrong i love a good angst fic! #there are some really good post-s1e6 canon divergent ones on ao3!!! #but honestly this is their canon dynamic and i love that the show stayed true <3

[starrystevie]

"what are you doing," eddie mumbles in confusion, hair fanned out on steve's pillow, the moonlight streaming in giving him a hazy halo.

there's a hand on the side of his face and it's cupping his cheek, thumb stroking over his skin. it's soft, so soft, too soft. another hand is trapping his against the mattress, fingers trailing over his forearm before tangling into his own and squeezing tight. it's gentle, so gentle, too gentle.

eddie isn't soft, eddie isn't gentle. eddie isn't making love in a full size bed with wallpaper that matches the drapes. he isn't fluttering kisses in time with fluttering heartbeats and the fluttering wings of butterflies trapped in his stomach like the most lovely cage.

eddie is fucking at 2am when there's enough intoxication to make him look like he's worth it. he's rough and wild, quick and easy. a means to a barely wanted end because he's there and willing and with long enough hair to let people imagine he's someone else.

he should be caged instead of the damn butterflies. he bares his teeth and thrashes his limbs just to fight and see what he can get away with. he laughs loud and brash in the face of sweetness just to see anger, just to see hurt.

he has half a mind to think he's a feral animal that's hardly been trained, performing in some fucked up circus that charges two bucks to see him snarl and hurl insults at anyone who passes by. he bites at the hands that try to touch, try to feed, proving to the onlookers that he's only worth the pocket change they pay to see him.

but steve. he's holding his face like he wants to, holding his hand like it's the most important thing in the world. he's pressing kisses along eddie's jaw without any hurry, without any rush, kissing just to kiss. feeling just to feel. he's like a ray of goddamn sunshine even in the darkness that midnight provides, warming eddie from the inside out.

eddie wants to run. he wants to scream. he wants to feel like he's allowed steve's soft and gentle but he's-

"is this not okay?" and now steve's looking at him with all of whatever he's trying to give him lacing into his face, his eyes and spit slick lips sparkling in the moonlight like a shiny new toy. "do you not like it?"

concern and care are different sides of the same steve shaped coin and if eddie looks hard enough, he can see them blurring together in his frustratingly beautiful sparkling eyes and those damn butterflies start to come back.

"no, it's-" he let's out a sigh, relaxing his tight muscles and sinking into the bed, sinking into whatever steve is willing to give him. "just different, is all. good different, i think."

steve smiles and eddie shakily mirrors it back, before he's ducking his head again and slotting their lips together, fingers still holding tight to eddie's, still cupping his face like it's something precious.

eddie's come to terms with the taste of the metal bars of his cage, teeth wearing down as he tries to bite his way to freedom. maybe this time he'll let himself get used to the taste of soft and gentle smiles if it means loving steve.

#under a read more solely for length! #this post is brought to you by me avoiding my work and feeling emotions about steve canonically holding hands when he has sex! #my writing #steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #steddie drabble #steddie fic #steddie hurt/comfort #for some reason i'm currently obsessed with dog imagry and you can pry it from my cold dead hands

[buggachat]

Open My Eyes

AO3, 1/15 chapters, post season 5 finale, angst (with a happy ending), Adrien discovers the truth

Adrien smiles as he eats breakfast with Nathalie, smiles as he walks through the halls of his new lycée, smiles as people stop him on the street and tell him time and time again what a "hero" his father was. (Adrien wishes he could've been a hero, too. He should've been. Maybe then his father would still be alive.) (But he's surviving. Everyone may be treating him as though he were made of glass, but he can still go through the motions, he can prove them wrong, he can still smile.) “And you’re… happy,” Marinette spoke carefully, a nervous tilt to her voice, “... right?” (Adrien has some things to find out.)

Hey guys, deciding to force myself to finally start uploading my post-season 5 finale fic! It's already complete and will be updated Mondays and Thursdays.

Basically, it's lots of Adrien angst and reveals dealing with the fallout of the season 5 finale. It was a lot of fun to write.

#''force myself'' to upload because posting fic makes me nervous lol so i stall. this is also why my fics are completed first uploaded second #complete fic is 100k because adrien has SO MUCH SHIT TO GO THROUGH. AND ITS ALL CANON STUFF 😭😭😭😭 #adrien whump is just. acknowledging things that are canon. kjklsajfklasjfsaf #my art #open my eyes

[magpie-trinkets]

continuing that "maya tries to contact claire" post, i present you the post-Spirit of Justice follow-up

#post that caters to ME specifically #let me first tag #ghost trick spoilers #lost future spoilers #now that that's out of the way. you know who's on that suitcase ;) #also claire is fucked up by time travel shenanigans so it's possible let's just say #also ghost powers grow and change with time sooooo. let's play with canon #layton “i have a dead girlfriend” and yomiel “i had a dead girlfriend” bisexuals #also yes the whole gang traveled to london they're just strolling around #maya had unfinished business and now that she's more powerful she's BACK #this would take place 7-or-so years after lost future/plvspw so layton is in his mid-forties here. i had to look it so correct me if im not #also yes this is a crossover AU i have rotating in my mind i love the source material and layton's and claire whole thing no shade to that #powerful narrative that made me cry #but with aa and gt magic fuckery we have the technology #also about the jail bit. that's a fic i am writing (one sentence every month) #ghost trick #professor layton #ace attorney #my art #ms paint #GOD. that wall of text is surely something