#you can in fact probably ignore this ficlet for that au. which is. the only reason i'm posting it

[theminecraftbee]

The room is a dim basement room. It has no windows. There’s a liquor cabinet, though, and a bookshelf full of notebooks, and a table and chairs, and a candle lighting the place. The candle doesn’t let off much smoke, but it’s steadily alight, indicating that the room’s oxygen content is still acceptable. A small, blinking device next to it confirms that any other electronic device in the area is well and truly dead. There’s tape sealing the door, so that no one can see the flicker of the candle inside.

There’s a bottle of brandy on the table. The glasses suggest neither party is bothering to savor it. It’s not a brand worth savoring, anyway; for all Scott could easily afford the expensive stuff, that’s not what he feels like he should drink while he’s down here.

He’s slumped forward on the table, hair askew. The hoodie he’s wearing doesn’t fit, because it isn’t his; neither are the sweatpants. He knows for a fact his contact is laughing at him for that. Whatever. She’s one of the only people who gets to know he has enough of a personal life to steal sweats from someone else anyway. May as well take advantage of that while he can. It’s not all impeccably-designed bulletproof suits out here.

“I hear congratulations are in order,” Pearl says from across the table.

“Fuck off,” Scott says.

“...are you already drunk?”

Scott huffs. “So what if I am, huh? It’s not like I need to be alert while you’re out here in full costume.”

Pearl peels herself off the wall. She’s a relatively muscular woman wearing red and black. Her face is masked with a simple red circle. A lunar eclipse. Scott still has no idea how she sees through that thing. He’d made fun of her, back when she chose the getup for her criminal activities. Told her she looked like an evil dinnerplate or something. She’d told him in turn that he looked like a pretentious dork in his chosen costume. Judging by the whispers through the Hero Association about the two of them, though—

God. Through his Hero Association, or just about his. 

“Promoted to Vice Commander, huh?”

“I’ve sold my soul,” Scott says, and he takes another deep swig of his brandy. 

“You already did,” Pearl says.

“God, I hate you,” Scott says.

“It’s a good thing the feeling’s mutual,” Pearl says.

“I wish we’d never fucking met,” Scott says.

“I killed someone yesterday,” Pearl says.

Scott’s quiet.

“You can’t go telling me that,” Scott says. “That’s another thing to hide. You can’t just—Pearl.”

“I know,” Pearl says. “I know. But for all everyone’s scared of me, I normally manage to avoid—”

“Hah. We were both there when—”

“I know,” Pearl says. 

Scott sighs. He pours Pearl a glass and pushes it across the table. Pearl takes off her mask. Her eyes are rimmed red, and her face is covered in splotches. She’s always been terrible at hiding she’s been crying. She’s been terrible at it since they were ten, and had both quite suddenly realized that if it had been hard to have their powers alone, it was even harder once there was evidence they weren’t both just going crazy.

He’s hated her since he was eleven, really. Took the year to realize he probably would have always seen what his powers gave him as useless nightmares, otherwise, but after that, well. The feeling’s mutual, at least. He wouldn’t have been able to stand it, if the feeling hadn’t been mutual.

(A girl who can see deaths, and a boy who can see alternate universes. They make quite the pair.)

“I probably kill more people,” mutters Scott, halfway between a consolation and a competition.

“Not with your own hands.”

“Yeah, does that make it better? I’ve sold my—you know this. You know this.”

“Yeah,” Pearl says. “Yeah, I know. Thought I should congratulate you on succeeding.”

“Thanks.”

“You’re welcome!”

They’re both quiet for a while. Pearl takes a drink from her own glass and grimaces. “You can afford better brandy than this,” she says.

“Fuck off,” Scott says. “I can buy the cheap stuff for this.”

“Your taste is stupid,” Pearl says primly. “Next time we come down here to plan, I bring the drinks.”

“Right. Planning. Because we’re doing so much of that today.”

Pearl sighs. “Does Jimmy know you’re here?”

“Jimmy doesn’t exist, as far as you’re concerned,” Scott snaps. “I buried the man’s documents myself.”

“Eclipse will make anyone exist for the right price,” Pearl tells Scott.

“Jimmy doesn’t, or you don’t,” Scott snaps, voice low.

“Oh, now you’re sounding like a Vice Commander.” Scott gives her a two-fingered salute. Pearl shrugs. “Just saying.”

Scott considers arguing harder. Instead, something in his stomach shifts, and he pours a full glass of brandy. It’s not how you’re supposed to drink the stuff. He might have a good tolerance by now, but he fully expects to wake up with the worst hangover he’s had in years tomorrow. He deserves it.

“You uh… got enough alcohol there?” Pearl says.

“Got unclassified access to the Black Ops files when I was sworn in,” Scott says.

“Jesus,” Pearl says.

“I sold my soul,” Scott says. “I’m in charge of that now.”

“Jesus,” Pearl says again.

“And I kept thinking about the plans we had to—I can’t just dismantle that, Pearl. I can’t just—what are we doing?” Scott realizes his shoulders are shaking. “What are we doing, Pearl? The best of all possible endings? Don’t make me laugh—I can’t see this universe once we’re in it. Who are we to decide, huh? Who are we to, to try to…”

Pearl watches him for a while.

“I could have told you it would be bad,” she said.

“Do you think I didn’t know that?” Scott snaps.

“I killed someone yesterday. It’s not uncommon,” Pearl says.

“Great, so we both deserve to be executed!” Scott says, throwing his hands up. “Some of them started in the scholarship program, Pearl, they were scouted at sixteen!”

“And we were eleven,” snaps Pearl, and Scott shuts his mouth and looks away.

“Yeah, well. That’s not the Association’s fault, is it.”

The air hangs heavy. It smells like booze and candlelight and misery. Distantly, Scott wonders if Pearl was maybe right, asking if Jimmy knew where he was. The only other person on the list of people allowed to know Scott has a personal life, and he’s going to be disappointed in Scott again. Great. Scott’s lucky that, legally, the man doesn’t exist; if someone who legally existed was mad at Scott, he might just finally have to do something about it.

“You’re right,” says Pearl, finally. ”What are we doing?”

She slumps forward in her chair. She knocks back her own drink, but doesn’t pour herself another. Scott isn’t surprised. It’s not safe for both of them to be drunk. If the newly-promoted Vice Commander of the Hero Association is caught drinking with an infamous information broker, it’ll be the end of their house of cards. Scott’s powers helpfully decide to show him what happens at this juncture in that universe. Scandal, collapse, corruption—the worst part is, he thinks, is that it can’t even be all that different from this universe, only that the guy on the inside trying to change anything won’t be in power to do so. Maybe it would even be better.

Pearl ‘slits her throat’ in the night, his powers inform him. It’s not a suicide.

Scott can be selfish about that much. So can Pearl. They can’t be caught.

“I already knew most of it,” Scott says, finally. “But I’m in charge now. I sign the orders, right next to the Commander. I sign the ones his name can’t be caught on, too. I’m in.”

“Who better to lead than a man who can see the future?” Pearl says.

“You know that’s not how it works,” Scott says.

“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have taunted you,” Pearl says.

“Jesus. Don’t apologize. You’ll make me think you’re an imposter,” Scott says.

“Yeah, well, the plan goes forward,” Pearl responds.

“Sure. Yeah. The plan goes forward,” Scott agrees. “The plan goes forward.”

Pearl reaches her hands across the table. Scott looks at them and, after a moment, reaches his own across to grab them. They sit there, holding each other’s hands, for a while, and it’s almost like they’re ten, and every horrible future the two of them can see flash by as possibilities is the end of the world, instead of another messy quagmire of maybe-just-as-bad-as-this-one. It had seemed much clearer then, really. It had seemed much easier. Scott doesn’t know. Maybe they were just stupider as kids.

Then again, he’d hated Pearl by eleven. He couldn’t have been that stupid.

He squeezes her hand tighter.

“Do good by them?” Pearl says, and it’s quiet and pained.

“Yeah,” Scott says.

“Okay,” Pearl says. “Okay.”

Slowly, Scott lets go of Pearl’s hands. He grabs the brandy again. He pours another glass. “I’m gonna get blackout drunk now,” Scott says.

“Sure. Just for tonight. I reserve the right to be sad and drunk next time,” Pearl says.

“Great planning,” Scott says.

“Yeah, well, we’ve still got a few hours,” Pearl says.

“I hate you,” Scott says.

Pearl smiles, for some ungodly reason.

“Yeah, me too.”

They stay there until Scott’s too drunk to stand up straight, and then Pearl lifts him around her shoulders and gets him outside to a cab. In the clothes he stole from Jimmy, no one can recognize him anyway. He’d think the hair would be distinctive enough, but apparently not. He won’t be caught today.

He muddles forward into the one future he can’t quite see.

#a bee fic #scott smajor #pearlescentmoon #no smp tag on this one because it's entirely au and like technically a hc au but scott is here #alcohol #implied/referenced violence #...this is completely without context atm this is me. warming up on a particular au. this has NOTHING TO DO with the plot of that au #you can in fact probably ignore this ficlet for that au. which is. the only reason i'm posting it #anyway. i think we should do more in aus with the insane dynamic that was double life scott and pearl #and this isn't exactly like that but these charaters are a LITTLE inspired by that #see you in like. several months! #me writing whatever this is: aren't superhero aus fun guys

[thefandominator]

Thank You For Sharing

The first thing that should have tipped Andrew off that something was up with Neil was that he pulled his hand away from Andrew where their pinkies were linked.

Neil needing some space from him wasn’t alarming per se, but it was unusual. There could be any number of reasons he’d pulled away.

It could be for no reason at all.

Andrew didn’t dwell on it.

Or, the foxes get more than they bargained for when they decide to watch a children's movie with Neil. Andrew, ever the protector, guides them all through it.

AO3 version linked here if you’d prefer.

Pairings: Neil Josten/Andrew Minyard | Andrew Minyard & Original Character(s) | The Foxes & The Foxes

Word count: 3139

Rating: General

Warnings: Neil Josten has Dissociative Identity Disorder

Notes: okay so for anyone who is miraculously in all the fandoms i write for and has been following along as i post these: (1) this is the last fandom i am doing this for lmao i swear i won't be jumping from fandom to fandom posting DID AUs once a week for the rest of time, meaning (2) next week will be an update on one of the DID universes i have already established, but (3) unlike the three ficlets i've posted so far which i wrote in three days straight a few weeks ago, i have not pre-written the next fic so wish me luck for that (also, u can send me prompts if you want to see something specific). anyway, enough of that, please enjoy my take on DID!neil.  constructive criticism is welcome (especially if you have DID/OSDD and notice some inaccuracies), and likes, comments and reblogs are encouraged!  no content warnings that i can think of, but let me know if there is anything you think i should warn for

The first thing that should have tipped Andrew off that something was up with Neil was that he pulled his hand away from Andrew where their pinkies were linked.

Neil needing some space from him wasn’t alarming per se, but it was unusual. There could be any number of reasons he’d pulled away. One of which could be the foxes that were around them in the girls’ dorm. Although, the only lighting in the room was coming from the animated movie playing in front of them so he doubted that anyone would be able to see them. So it probably wasn’t that.

It could be for no reason at all.

Andrew didn’t dwell on it.

The second thing that should have tipped Andrew off was when, a few minutes later, Neil climbed off of the couch altogether and sat on the floor, craning his neck forward as if trying to get as close to the action as possible.

That movement did give Andrew pause. Andrew narrowed his eyes at the top of Neil’s head, trying to see if Neil would give him any hints as to what was going on. The fact that Neil couldn’t feel Andrew staring at him and didn’t turn around was another significant clue.

He wondered if he was getting too dependent on Neil. With that thought, he elected to ignore Neil entirely.

Until the third and final sign. Which was less of a subtle sign and more of a blatant siren.

Olaf onscreen was rapidly changing shape as Kristoff shouted out the different objects he was turning into. Until–

“Ooh, Elsa!” Kristoff yelled.

The most delighted squeal of a giggle that Andrew could ever remember hearing pealed out from somewhere in the room.

It took Andrew a second to figure out the source of the sound. He finally stared down at Neil and he could tell he wasn’t the only one who did so, although the others likely had more shock on their faces than Andrew had.

Neil was oblivious to the stares for a few seconds. Then he abruptly became aware of them, and his head swiveled around the room, swiftly taking in all the foxes’ stares in the relative darkness.

“Neil, that was adorable!” Nicky exclaimed.

Neil’s shoulders pushed back as he tried to gain a few inches of height from his position on the floor.

Andrew waited for what was bound to be a scathing retort from Neil. But–

“Um. O– Okay,” Neil stammered.

Andrew could tell the foxes around him were frowning down at Neil and Andrew felt himself mirroring their sentiments.

Neil’s voice sounded off. It was slightly pitched up, and Andrew was certain he’d never heard Neil audibly sound that nervous in the entire time they’d known each other. It almost sounded like some anxious child was doing a Neil impression and failing miserably.

In fact. That was exactly what it sounded like. And that was probably exactly what was happening. Neil had mentioned to Andrew that he’d been front-stuck for a few days now, but it wasn’t like Andrew would forget that his DID existed entirely.

Andrew slid down from the couch and sat in front of Probably-Not-Neil. As soon as Andrew was situated, Probably-Not-Neil ducked their head to stare down at the bit of floor space between them.

Which, if this person were trying to convince everyone to calm down and believe that they were Neil, was the exact opposite thing to do.

“You’re not Neil,” Andrew declared.

Probably-Not-Neil shrunk in on themself and their eyes briefly met Andrew’s face as they peeked up.

“Am too,” Probably-Not-Neil murmured, again in that voice of a child trying to seem older than they were.

This was definitely not Neil then.

Andrew was quiet for a moment, deliberating how he should approach this situation. He heard the movie pause behind him. With how much time he spent one-on-one with Neil, he’d been the first point of external contact for plenty of Neil’s alters, but he’d never met someone as young and unaware as this person seemed.

Andrew was not a fan of meeting new people but, he begrudgingly admitted to himself, he knew that he would do whatever it took to help Neil navigate his DID.

Andrew decided that it was probably best if he started from the beginning.

“Do you know what DID is?”

Definitely-Not-Neil perked up in excitement. Their eagerness at being called on like they were the goody-two-shoes in class seemed to overshadow their insistence on playing the part as Neil.

“O’ course! It’s, um, Dissocive Identy Disorder.” They beamed.

Close enough. If they knew what it was called, they probably already knew something about what it was. “Right. Do you know that you have DID?” Andrew asked next.

“Um.” They shifted in their spot. “Yeah.”

“Good. Do you know who I am?” Perhaps it was presumptuous of Andrew to start with himself, but he was the one who interacted most with the alters, so it seemed like a logical opening.

They nodded nervously. “Andrew, right?”

“That’s right.” Andrew nodded back. If they knew who Andrew was, then maybe they knew to trust him too. “Now, listen carefully. Everyone in this room knows that you are not Neil.” Andrew was glad they spent most of their movie nights without the freshmen. “And that’s okay. You are safe here, with me and with these people. We will not hurt you for being yourself, alright?”

Definitely-Not-Neil finally looked up and made eye contact with Andrew. Naked hope and disbelief shone in their blue stare. Their eyes made a sweeping gaze around the room at the foxes around them and then settled on Andrew’s again.

“Really?” They were barely hiding the childish lilt to their voice anymore.

“Yes,” Andrew replied.

“Okay,” they said, wiggling a little in their spot.

“Okay.” Andrew paused. He wanted to ask them more questions, but he didn’t want to overwhelm them either. Maybe the best approach would be to leave it up to them. “Do you want to tell me about yourself?”

“Yeah, okay!” They beamed. “Um, I’m Johnny. I’m nine.” Nine? Andrew did not let himself hope that Johnny wasn’t a trauma holder. Hope would get him nowhere in a situation like this. “Um… My hair is blond. But not like your blond, like a different blond.” With every sentence Johnny said, they seemed to get more comfortable. “And, um, I’m smaller than this so these legs and arms are too long for me.” Johnny waved the aforementioned arms around as if in demonstration. “Um… Oh! I use he/him pronouns.” He said each syllable meticulously, like he was quoting someone who’d taught him to say it. “Um… I like planes and cats and chocolate.” He ended his incongruous list with another full body wiggle.

When it seemed that nothing more was forthcoming, Andrew nodded. “Thank you for sharing, Johnny.” Andrew searched for something else to ask or add and came up empty for now. “Do you want to keep watching the movie?”

“No,” Johnny replied, indignant. “It’s your turn now.” He blinked at Andrew.

“My… turn?” Andrew said.

“Yeah! Can you tell me about yourself, Andrew?” More blinking.

Andrew heard huffs and coughs around the room that he was aware were just the foxes trying not to laugh at him lest they get a knife to the stomach. With how focused he’d been on Johnny, he’d almost forgotten they were still here. At least they’d kept their mouths shut and their reactions to themselves so far during this interaction.

“Yes,” Andrew decided. It was only fair after all. Andrew wouldn’t be the one to teach a nine-year-old that life wasn’t fair. “I am Andrew. I am twenty. My hair is also blond but apparently a different blond to your blond. I am 5 feet tall. I use he/him pronouns. I like ice cream and cars and knives.” He added the last one to remind the foxes that he was armed and would not take being made fun of for playing along to a child’s wishes lying down.

“Thank you for sharing, Andrew,” Johnny replied sincerely.

Andrew tried to inject the same amount of sincerity into his voice as Johnny had. “You’re welcome.”

“Okay.” He did a full body turn and sat cross legged with his hands in his lap to face the opposite end of the couch. “Your turn,” he said to Kevin brightly.

Kevin’s eyes widened. “My turn?” he said, flabbergasted.

“Uh-huh. Can you tell me about yourself?” Apparently Johnny’s anxiety had worn off as soon as he’d realized he was allowed to be comfortable around them.

Panic swept through the room as the other foxes grasped what fate was likely coming their way.

“Uh, sure, Johnny. Uh, I’m, um, Kevin. I’m twenty-one. I’m 6 foot 2. I use he/him pronouns. I, uh… I like exy and history and, uh, apples.”

“Hair,” Andrew prompted.

Kevin turned to Andrew. “Hair?” He frowned. “My hair?”

Andrew stayed silent.

“Why would I– He can see what my hair looks like,” Kevin muttered.

“Hair, Kevin,” Andrew repeated, accompanying the statement with a glare this time.

Kevin huffed. “And my hair is dark brown,” he added reluctantly.

“Thank you for sharing, Kevin,” Johnny answered, just as sincerely as before.

Kevin nodded awkwardly.

Johnny turned to Nicky, who was seated on the chair next to Kevin. “Your turn,” he encouraged cheerily.

Nicky, as expected, responded with as much gusto as if he’d had days to prepare this bio, even going so far as to list five things he liked instead of three.

Johnny, as was now becoming expected, thanked him for the information, and then moved onto the next person in the circle, which was Dan.

And so around it went, with some people’s answers more animated than others (Aaron gave his bio with the same enthusiasm he would give pulling his own teeth out, but he did participate, which wasn’t an insignificant step), and with people chipping in to remind each other of the prompts or to argue over details like heights (Matt insisted he was 6 foot 4 and a half, but Dan maintained that it was maximum 6 foot 4 and a quarter) and likes (“Alli, just because you wear a lot of green doesn’t mean it’s actually your favorite color,” Nicky asserted).

But eventually, after they all had taken a much longer time than probably anyone expected, Johnny ended off with a sincere, “Thank you for sharing, Renee.”

“You’re welcome, Johnny.” Renee gave her most beatific smile.

“Can we get back to the movie now?” Aaron grumbled.

“Uh-huh!” Johnny turned back to the screen, seemingly unaffected by Aaron’s lack of excitement. “I haven’t seen this one.”

“Have you seen the first Frozen movie?” Dan asked.

“No! There’s another one like this?” Johnny was clearly ecstatic over this news.

“Yeah! There is.” Dan deliberated. “Do you want to see it first?”

Aaron groaned softly. Andrew guessed that it was quiet enough for Johnny not to have heard but he assumed Johnny wouldn’t work out what the huff was for anyway. The foxes had just watched the first Frozen movie a couple of weeks ago, so a repeated viewing so soon wouldn’t be ideal.

“No, um, I like this. It’s funny. We can keep watching.”

“Okay. We’ll do the first one another time then, huh?” Dan promised.

Johnny’s eyes widened and his mouth popped open.

It was perhaps a disproportionate reaction to the casual suggestion Dan had made. But Andrew supposed it was confirmation that they wanted him around. Confirmation that Andrew was telling the truth when he’d said that Johnny could be himself.

Johnny gathered himself after a few seconds and nodded vigorously, moving his entire upper body with the action, flashing a grin.

“That would be awesome!” he exclaimed.

As someone pressed play on the TV, Andrew rearranged himself so that he was sitting next to Johnny in front of the space he’d vacated on the couch. It was a facsimile of the positions he and Neil had been in before, but there was now some distance between their arms where previously their pinkies had interlinked.

Andrew was once again struck with the thought that perhaps he was too dependent on Neil. He tried to dismiss the thought as not worth considering but then some part of him that sounded eerily like Bee advised against it.

So maybe he was dependent on Neil. Was that actually a bad thing? He didn’t know how the situation with Johnny would have panned out without Andrew there, but it probably wouldn’t have ended up going as well as it did. So, he reasoned with himself, maybe Neil and his system were dependent on him. It couldn’t be a bad thing if they weren’t being unhealthy about it. If it was reciprocal.

He decided that he’d thought enough about this. It wasn’t a bad thing, and that was good enough for him.

He tuned back into the movie as Johnny snickered at Kristoff doing the Sven voice to appease Olaf.

That was far from the only reaction Johnny had during the next hour and a half. He laughed at the funny parts and sang at the singing parts and sniffled at the sad parts. Andrew was surprised that there wasn’t a lack of sadness in this children’s movie. Andrew himself didn’t shed a tear, but he could recognize that shedding a tear wasn’t an atypical reaction to the events happening onscreen, as evidenced by the amount of sniffing he could hear from around the room.

Eventually, the credits started rolling, and as the movie ended, Johnny’s near-monologue began. The foxes did their best to participate in what was becoming an almost scene-for-scene recap of the film as Johnny reviewed his favorite parts, but Johnny was barely letting them get a word in edgewise and he seemed content to keep going on his own.

After a few minutes of this, when it was clear Johnny wasn’t letting up any time soon, Aaron got up to leave without saying a word.

Johnny let out a “Goodnight, Aaron” in between two of his thoughts but didn’t leave any time for Aaron to respond or anyone else to echo the farewell before he kept going on about Olaf calling for a ‘Samantha’ who didn’t exist.

Kevin left shortly thereafter and was granted the same sendoff of “Goodnight, Kevin” from Johnny.

The remaining foxes gave Johnny their full attention for as long as they could, but it was clear that they didn’t have Johnny’s youthful energy, and also it was later in the night than any of them had prepared for, after the ‘Can you tell me about yourself’ discursion that they’d had.

Matt was seated on the floor between Dan’s legs, and it was on the third time that Matt shook himself awake after hitting his head on Dan’s knee that Johnny seemed to notice something was up.

He stopped himself mid-word, turned to Andrew and requested, “Can you take me to my bed now?”

Andrew imagined there was an inaudible sigh of unanimous relief in the room.

“Sure,” Andrew acquiesced.

They all staggered to their feet, exhaustion making their motions sluggish. Except for Johnny who bounced up like he was ready to run a marathon. They said their ‘goodnight’s to each other, and Nicky, Andrew and Johnny left the girls and Matt to the dorm, Johnny walking slightly like Bambi in an effort to get used to his aforementioned abnormally long limbs.

As they dropped off Nicky at his dorm on their way to the one Andrew and Neil shared with Kevin, Andrew noticed Johnny start to lose steam. By the time they made it through their door, Johnny was barely paying attention to where he was walking, instead fully focused on blinking repeatedly and rubbing his temples.

“Are you okay?” Andrew prodded.

Johnny glanced at Andrew for a second before going back to focusing on the middle distance. “Yeah. Just– someone’s here.”

“Okay. Do you know who it is?”

Johnny was silent as he presumably asked the alter for their name.

“Oh! It’s Neil,” he said.

“What is he saying?”

“He’s confused. He’s asking me what’s been going on. I’m tellin’ him about the movie.” Johnny grinned.

Andrew wasn’t sure that that was the recap Neil had been hoping for, but if Andrew had had to go through basically watching the movie twice with how thorough Johnny’s retelling was, then it was only fair for Neil to hear it.

Andrew went through his nighttime routine with Johnny as a silent shadow. Andrew wasn’t entirely sure if the silence was because he was so absorbed in the recitation of Frozen II’s best plot points to Neil or if it was because of dissociation, but Johnny was going through the motions nonetheless, which Andrew decided was the important thing.

When they were done, Andrew guided Johnny into Neil’s bunk and started the climb up into his own. As he was halfway there, Johnny whispered a “Goodnight, Andrew” keeping his voice down so as not wake Kevin who was snoring lightly in his bed.

“Goodnight, Johnny,” Andrew replied and completed his ascent.

He got himself under the covers and just breathed. He listened to Johnny’s breathing below him, waiting for it to even out. He didn’t want to fall asleep until he was sure Johnny and Neil were okay, because he knew Neil and his alters sometimes needed help grounding themselves when they felt particularly switch-y.

Andrew was not quite asleep and not quite awake a few minutes later when he heard Johnny get up out of the bottom bunk. Andrew turned his head, and even in the darkness he could see the attentiveness in Neil’s eyes.

“I think Johnny finally went to sleep,” Neil told Andrew quietly, in obvious relief. “Can I come up there?” he asked.

That was Neil, alright. Always asking, never assuming. Andrew could count on one hand the number of times he and Neil hadn’t shared a bed in the past few months and yet here was Neil, still making sure it was okay with Andrew.

“Yes,” Andrew answered, because what else would he have said.

Neil climbed the ladder, and he and Andrew shuffled until they were laying side by side under the sheets. It was a tight fit, made even more so by the bit of distance they left between each other, but they squeezed up against the railings on either side of the mattress to make it work.

Andrew breathed deeply, finally at ease, and felt his muscles relax as his eyes closed.

Just before he drifted off, he felt a light prod at his hand. It went away quickly. It was just a request. No insistence. No pressure.

Andrew linked pinkies with Neil, squeezed once and let sleep take him away.

Notes: this was a tough one for me to write because i don’t know how to write kids and i also don’t know how to write as andrew but i knew i wanted both to be done so here we are. also i know frozen wasn’t out when this would be set let alone frozen ii but l e t m e l i v e.  leave a like, comment or rb if u wanna! love you for reading! xx

#andreil #dissociative identity disorder #andrew minyard #neil josten #andrew minyard x neil josten #neil josten x andrew minyard #neil x andrew #andrew x neil #aftg #all for the game #the foxhole court #tfc #tfc fanfic #aftg fanfic #aftg fic #tfc fic #andreil fanfic #andreil fluff #andreil fic #nicky hemmick #kevin day #aaron minyard #allison reynolds #renee walker #matt boyd #dan wilds #josten system verse #(wish i had a better name for this verse lol but it works for now) #mina.txt #mina's fics

[tainted-wine]

Nowhere, absolutely nowhere in your ask did you insinuate that you wanted this but I couldn’t resist getting thirsty because...you know. Thinking about it, I may have been subconsciously inspired by @bibbidi-bobbidi-birb​ and her amazing Seven Deadly Birds series. If you want some real magical Hawks action, go read her beautiful fic Gula!

What do you call a hummingbird version of Hawks? Hums?

This rambling-turned-ficlet contains Microphilia, Noncon/Dubcon, Forced oral(receiving), and Yandere vibes. Just pervy fairy!Hawks in a fantasy AU.

Anyway Hawks is a tiny bastard that has completely ruined fairies for you. Everyone in this village, a village built in the middle of an enchanted forest, welcomes the small magical beings whenever they’re spotted flying about. You knew that fairies had a reputation for being tricksters, but Keigo...

You didn’t know it was possible for someone the size of your hand to be such a menace. You should have never acknowledged him. You shouldn’t have commented on his rose wings as he hovered over your flowers, the shimmering feathers appearing to change color at every angle. You shouldn’t have given him that small dish of sweet syrup as you thanked him and his kind for using their magic to keep the humans safe from the more wicked inhabitants of the forest.

His obsession with you began on that very same day you met. At first it was endearing, the way he fluttered around you, embarrassing you with backhanded compliments that only a fairy can make sound flattering.

“You’re pretty good-looking yourself, for a smelly human at least.”

Everyday he would ask for another sugary treat to slurp up, the sweetness of his voice hiding the fact that he never takes no for an answer. He’d passive aggressively question you, because what’s more important than showing a little gratitude to a creature that’s just trying to protect you?

When he isn’t forcing you to feed him, he’s following you around like a pesky bug, expecting you to make conversation. Ignore him and he’ll buzz loudly in your ear or tug on your hair. Whatever task you’re handling can’t be more important than a generous fairy asking for a little company. His questions become a bit too invasive for your liking.

“Have any of the men here caught your eye?”

“No? And why not? Are they missing something?”

“So are you still a maiden?”

“You are? Then you must taste sweeter than anything you’ve given me so far! Why not offer yourself?”

You weren’t sure what that meant, but it frightened you. The old tales never mentioned fairies consuming human flesh or drinking blood.

He only became more aggressive and less respectful of your privacy as time went on. One night you noticed too late that he found a way into your home and was calmly watching you bathe, laughing when you screamed and jumped out of the small tub without thinking and revealing your nude body to him.

“Can I drink from you?”

You say no.

One morning you wake up to find him curled up and sleeping soundly on your chest. You react by smacking him and sending him flying into a wall. As much as you’ve grown to detest him, you still panic over the fact that you just harmed a fairy.

He smirks when he sees your fear, despite how dazed he was.

“I’ll forgive you if I can drink from you.”

You say no.

Keigo frowns and, instead of pressuring you like you expected, flies away on his damaged wings. When he doesn’t return that day or the day after, you think that he has finally left you alone.

You had your first terrible nightmare the next time you slept. They got more intense every night, dreams of shadowy beasts violently tearing you limb from limb. For awhile you try different herbs and remedies in hopes of getting a peaceful sleep, but they all fail. You begin to fear sleep, dragging your feet through the streets with dark and heavy eyelids.

Then the hallucinations haunt you. Your neighbors are starting to keep their distance, whispering to each other about the times when you suddenly collapse and scream, raising your hands in front of you as if a monster is lunging at you. “She’s gone mad.”

One night, as you sit on your bed and try to blink away the horrid creatures, Keigo returns.

You’re already on your hands and knees the second you see him and realize he isn’t a part of your own cruel delusions. You beg him to save you from whatever this is, whatever evil has suddenly taken hold of your mind. He takes a long look at your sad state before answering to your pleas.

“I can save you, if you let me drink from you.”

It only scares you for a second before you accept, ready to give him anything he wants. It can’t be worse than the horrors you’ve been experiencing these past days.

You don’t know what you were expecting, but it wasn’t the order to remove all of the clothing below your waist. When you hesitate, he motions to turn around and exit out of your window, which quickly makes you panic again as you shakily fumble with your garments.

It was the first time you exposed yourself to someone. Keigo may not be a human male, but judging by the many times he’s casually ogled you, he’s probably just as wolfish as one.

You’re told to lie back on the bed and spread your legs. The embarrassment is almost strong enough to overpower your drowsiness and week-long headache. The fairy flies and lands between your thighs, standing right in front of your virgin womanhood.

Small hands touch your lips all over. “What a beautiful flower. I’ve been dreaming about how sweet your nectar tastes since you first spoke to me.” He presses the hooded bud at the top and chuckles when your hips jolt.

Oh gods, is this what he means by drinking? No...

You’re afraid to close your eyes, afraid of whatever terrifying demons await you in the darkness, but you simply don’t have the strength to watch him violate you like this.

You don’t see, but you sure do feel the slender and very long invasion inside of you, a foreign and shameful feeling, but admittedly not unpleasant. It darts in and out of you rapidly, your nerves struggling to keep up with the speed of sensations. He’s feeding from you just like he would from a flower or a cup of sugar water.

The avian tongue is small yet brings you so much pleasure that it chases away your fears. You fight to keep your quivering thighs from closing and crushing the feasting fairy, your pussy contracting as more juices flow to soak him. 

He’ll occasionally come up for air and comment on how delicious you are, how juicy your petals are once you fully bloom, and how you’ve officially spoiled him and will no longer be satisfied by any of your sugary gifts. 

His nimble muscle works fast at collecting your moisture, pressing against your walls just enough to make you whimper as a strange pressure grew inside of your belly. You eventually gain the courage to look down, though all you can really see is a pair of wings that will sometimes happily flutter.

Keigo is still gorging himself when the tension in your gut suddenly snaps with a burst of pleasure strong enough to temporarily smother the darkness. It has you screaming into the night, and if the village wasn’t already convinced that you were insane, someone probably would have ventured out to check on you. He climbs up your stomach and rests on your chest when he finishes, completely drenched and proud of it.

He promises that the shadows will slowly go away, and you want to embrace his small form. You haven’t forgotten how despicable he’s been, but you owe him your life, or at the very least your sanity. You still shy away when he informs you that he needs to feed from you at least once a day to ensure your mind remains free. As incredible as it felt, it will always be difficult to just open your legs and allow his tongue inside your most intimate spot.

As for Keigo, he can’t believe how well this plan went. Now he can go tell his fellow fairies that you have finally made amends for your unreasonable behavior. 

When you had the audacity to smack him into a wall, he fled into the depths of the forest and alerted the others of his injuries. Enraged by the harm you brought upon one of their own, they lifted their protective magic over you, leaving you vulnerable to the evils of the woods. It truly was sad watching the unseen forces torment you, but you needed to be taught a lesson for denying him so many times and daring to strike him.

Your protection will return once he gives them the news, but you'll never know that. Instead, you’ll believe that he is keeping you safe all on his own, with the work of his mouth and ravenous appetite. It sounds ridiculous to his own ears, but it’s not like you silly humans understood fairy magic well enough to know better.

He can’t help it. You’re the sweetest flower in these woods, and he’s going to keep you all to himself.

#asks #hawks #smut #yandere #tw noncon #tw dubcon #keigo takami #hawks x reader #well this is something i never thought i'd write #or even have interest in #but life is unpredictable #so here's micro!hawks #i'm sorry anon #all you did was mention him being super tiny #and my brain exploded

[giveemhales]

Moodboards for Sterek AUs: 10/?

For @averystereksummer Day 6

AU where Stiles has a fear of storms

For the prompt: “How’s the weather?”

With a ficlet! Content warning for anxiety and panic attacks.

Stiles was afraid of storms.

Maybe that’s putting it wrong, because there’s a lot of things Stiles was afraid of that he could deal with. Really, he had a fear of storms, “astraphobia.” He hated it.

He wished he could say there was a reason. That his mother died on a stormy night or that the thunder reminds him of gun shots.

But there was no rhyme or reason. It was nothing more than a phobia, an anxiety disorder, an evolutionary flaw.

He’s always been good at hiding it, though. When he was younger, he hid it because he was made fun enough as is, he didn’t want to give any other material for his bullies to work with. Not even Scott ever figured it out. He could usually handle rain, but when there was thunder, he’d always make an excuses to go home, whether he was at school or on a sleepover. He’d usually say he was sick, and his mother was understanding enough that she’d be willing to take him home. She would build them a blanket fort and put on way too loud cartoons to help drown out the noise. Sometimes she would hold him closely, and remind him the thunder couldn’t hurt him, and that she would always protect him.

Then his mother died, and his fear got worse. It wasn’t just that storms were harder to handle without his mother, it was also the way his mental health had deteriorated after her death. His anxiety was significantly worse, and things that once scared him would now trigger full blown panic attacks.

His father got him a therapist to help him, but the therapist was mostly focused on his grief and how to handle his panic attacks. He had coping mechanisms now, but he still tried to avoid being out when there was a storm at all cost. Avoidance wasn’t necessarily healthy, but it was what worked for him. He continued to claim illness, and would curl up under the covers, blasting music through his earbuds.

He had even managed to hide this fear from the pack, which he’d say was pretty impressive considering most of the members could quite literally smell fear.

He religiously checked the weather every day, using multiple sources for the daily and weekly forecasts. If there was a forecast for a thunderstorm at any point, he’d make up plans (which was difficult when dealing with people who can hear when you’re lying, but he had perfected the art of half truths, always using something like “having homework” or “wanting to see his dad,” which were all technically true). So far, he’d only been outside in a thunder storm with the pack once, and they were fighting wendigos so they didn’t really question his scent of fear or him running off to his Jeep as soon as the creatures were declared dead. That was one of the few times in his life he had been unable to avoid being outside during a thunderstorm, and the resulting panic attack had been so bad he hadn’t been able to go to the school the next day (which was easy enough to get away with, since the rain had also resulted in a cold).

He’s not really sure why he spends so much time and energy hiding this fear like it’s a dirty secret. Maybe part of it was that he knew he couldn’t avoid thunderstorms, but he could try to avoid being around people during thunderstorms. It gave him something to focus on, a feeling of control.

Honestly though, he knew it was mostly his own insecurities. He was at a good place with the pack, and he doesn’t really think any of them would be malicious if they were to find out. But he knew that he was just human, that he was weaker than the rest of them, and he strived everyday to prove he could keep up. He couldn’t show any weaknesses because he couldn’t let them know he was weak.

So he had basically perfected the art of keeping his phobia hidden away from the rest of the world.

But one of the worst things about storms was that you don’t always know when they’re coming. And that’s what led to his current predicament.

He was in the car with Derek after they had met with a pack outside of town. The pack was new to the area and hoping to make an alliance. With Derek the alpha and Stiles the emissary, it was customary for the two of them to make negotiations.

The meeting had been fine. A simple agreement had been made and then Derek and Stiles made the hour long drive back to Beacon Hills, specifically to Derek’s loft where Stiles’ Jeep was waiting.

Derek had insisted that they drive together, and had refused to go in Stiles’ “death trap” (more like because he was a dick), so Stiles was now seated in the passenger side of the camaro. And that was fine, Stiles honestly enjoyed spending time with Derek. But it was about half an hour outside of Beacon Hills that he noticed the grey clouds.

Stiles had checked multiple weather sources that morning like he always did, and none of them had mentioned a chance of storms. A couple had mentioned a chance of rain that night, but it was still afternoon. There was no reason to expect a risk of storms.

But Stiles had obsessively studied storms enough to know what storm clouds looked like. And right now there were definitely storm clouds in the direction of Beacon Hills.

Fuck.

“How’s the weather? I mean, do you know? I feel like with your special werewolf senses you should be able to tell. You know, smell when a storm is coming. That would actually be pretty cool, it would make you a great meteorologist. Although meteorologists aren’t as bad as people make them seem. They actually have a 90% accuracy five days in advance. And on the actual day are usually within 2.5 degrees in their predictions. That’s pretty impressive. But obviously they don’t always get it right. Clearly, since they hadn’t said there would be rain today and-“

“Stiles!” Derek barked, cutting him off. “No, I can’t “sense” the weather. But from those clouds over there I’d say it’s probably going to rain.”

Stiles nodded. “Yeah. Looks like it. That’s cool. Cool cool cool cool cool.”

Derek side-eyed him, but at this point he was used to Derek’s seemingly constant annoyance with him.

His leg began bouncing, as it usually did when he was nervous. Derek was clearly annoyed, but fortunately didn’t say anything.

A couple minutes later, the drizzle began, and Derek turned on the windshield wiper. Stiles looked down at his phone which had the directions. Still 20 minutes to go. He desperately hoped that they would get back before any thunder started, but it seemed unlikely.

Stiles leaned over and began fiddling with the radio. He eventually found a station playing heavy metal, and turned it up as loud as it would go, hoping it would be enough should there be any thunder.

Derek cursed and immediately shut off the radio. “What the fuck is your problem, did you forget about the werewolf hearing?” He grumbled, pawing at his ears with one hand still on the wheel.

“Just wanted some music, you’re so quiet, you know. Thought we could liven things up.”

Derek just growled in reply, which was pretty par for the course for him, so Stiles didn’t bother saying anything else.

Pretty soon, the rain started getting heavier, pouring down loudly on the windshield. Derek increased the speed of the windshield wiper, but seemed unbothered.

Stiles opened his mouth before closing it again. He honestly wanted to just explain to Derek why he was being so weird. Derek wasn’t the type to judge, and would probably even do what he could to be accommodating.

But at the same time, he couldn’t think of worse person to find out about his fear. Besides the fact that Derek was one of the strongest, bravest people he had ever met, Stiles had also been pining after him for years. He knew Derek had seen him as the hyperactive, token human, and even if Stiles now had a spark and Derek had accepted him as the pack’s emissary, Stiles didn’t want to risk revealing anything that might ruin their progress. He knew Derek would never feel the same about him as he did, and he was okay with that, but he was absolutely not okay with Derek ever viewing him as lesser. He wouldn’t, couldn’t be seen as weak.

So Stiles kept his mouth shut, and tried to just focus on anything other than the impending storm.

That worked out until the thunder came.

The first roll of thunder hit when they were about 10 minutes from the loft, and Stiles’ composure began to crumble.

He felt his heart beat quicken, his palms sweat, his breath become raggedy and stomach begin to cramp. These were standard symptoms for his anxiety, but not something he ever truly got used to.

He tried to focus on his breathing, but was interrupted by Derek.

“What’s wrong? Your heart is pounding and your breathing sounds weird,” Derek said, the concern clear in his voice. Stiles supposed that after all the terrifying shit he had been through, it would make sense that Derek wouldn’t make the connection between his fear and the thunder.

Stiles clenched his fists and closed his eyes, trying to block everything out. “Nothing. I’m fine, dude,” he ground out.

He could practically hear Derek rolling his eyes, but for once he ignored the “dude” comment. “You’re clearly not fine, I can smell the anxiety rolling off you. If you’re in danger or if something’s wrong, I need to know.”

“I said I’m fine. Just drop it,” Stiles knew Derek would be able to hear the lie, but there wasn’t much he could do about it. He was focusing too much energy on trying to calm down to come up with a plausible lie for why he was acting the way he was.

“Please, Stiles, I just want to help you,” Derek’s voice was softer than Stiles had ever heard, and he hated the way it made his eyes tear up. He turned and rested his forehead on the window, trying to focus on the cool feeling.

Stiles was surprised Derek didn’t pry further, but instead grabbed his hand.

Stiles thought about the fact that his palms were sweaty and probably pretty gross, but he couldn’t bring himself to pull away. It wasn’t even because he had been dreaming of holding Derek’s hand for years. It was because it helped ground him.

He tried to focus on touch so he could block out the flashes of lightning and rumbles of thunder. He tried to think about the warmth of Derek’s hand, and his mother’s voice when she reminded him the storms couldn’t hurt him. He counted his breaths, and reminded himself they were only a few minutes away. And as soon as they were back, he could get in his Jeep, blast his music, and try to ignore the outside world.

They arrived to the loft, and Stiles vaulted out of the Camaro before it was even in park (although a small part of him was reluctant to let go of Derek’s hand).

He ran as fast as he could to the Jeep to try to avoid the worst of the storm. Unfortunately, he didn’t get the chance to make it to the Jeep before he was being grabbed by Derek (honestly, fuck werewolf speed, that’s just not fair).

“Stiles, I need you to tell me what’s wrong. I can’t just let you leave if you’re in danger!”

One of the symptoms of anxiety that is less talked about is that heightened anxiety makes a person prone to emotional outbreaks. Maybe that’s why he lost it at that moment. Or maybe it had been building up for years, the anger and shame and fear finally boiling over. Or maybe he just wanted somebody to know, because he was so tired of being alone.

Whatever the reason was, Stiles finally let it all out.

“Oh my god, I’m not in danger. Nothing is going to happen to me and I logically know that but I can’t help it. I’m terrified of storms. Is that what you wanted me to say?” Stiles was yelling, even though he was sure Derek could hear him perfectly well, but he couldn’t stop. “I’m terrified of how loud the thunder is, how I can barely hear myself think over the noise. I’m terrified of lightning even though the likelihood of being struck is one in a million. I’m terrified that I can’t always prepare for storms and that I have no way to control the weather. And I know it’s a fucking stupid fear. And that’s why I’ve tried so hard to hide it. But I feel like I can’t breathe. And you probably don’t know what that’s like, you probably don’t have stupid fears and constant anxiety because you’re the bravest person I know. But you know now so please just drop it.”

Stiles was panting by the end of his rant. He wanted to turn around, to go to his car, just like he said he wanted, but the masochist in him needed to see how Derek was going to react.

“Do you really think I’ll judge you for that? You think I don’t feel afraid? I’m scared every day. I’m afraid I’m going to fail as an alpha. I’m afraid I’m going to lose everything again. Hell, I’m afraid every second I’m around you.”

“What? Why would you be afraid around me?” Stiles asked incredulously, fairly certain Derek was just making it up to make him feel better.

“Because I’m afraid I’m finally going to break and kiss you.”

Stiles isn’t sure what Derek saw in Stiles’ slack-jawed expression, but evidently it was an invitation, because the next thing Stiles knew, there were lips on his own.

Derek’s were wet from the rain, but still warm. The kiss was soft and tender, and everything Stiles had ever wanted.

Unfortunately, it was still storming, and Stiles jumped back just a moment later when there was a roar of thunder and crack of lightning.

Derek looked stricken, clearly drawing the wrong conclusion.

Stiles was quick to correct him. “As amazing as that kiss was, I can’t- I need to be alone right now.”

Derek looked relieved, and reached out to Stiles. “Do you- You’re welcome in the loft if you’d prefer.”

Stiles usually preferred to be alone during storms so no one could see his vulnerability, but the Jeep was also usually his last resort. The loft would be much quieter, so he nodded and took Derek’s hand.

Up in the loft, Derek grabbed Stiles a towel to dry himself since he was dripping everywhere. After he dried off, he went ahead and wrapped himself in a blanket and curled up on the couch. “Do you mind if I turn on the TV? Noise helps.” He was still shaking, but felt himself calming down. Hopefully if he put on the TV, he could try to forget about the storm.

Derek nodded and then paused. “I can leave if you’d like but if it would help... Would you mind if I just held you?”

After years of keeping his fears private, Stiles’ instinct was to ask him to leave. But he remembered how he would feel when his mom would hold him during storms. He remembered how his fears had quietened when Derek had kissed him. He remembered all the reasons he fell in love with Derek, and how safe he made him feel.

He nodded.

#avss2020 #avssweather #this is kinda late #also rushed #i might edit later and add more to the end #and post on ao3 #but this is what i have for now #also this is my first gifset #not my gifs tho #just pls be nice #sterek #sterek au #derek hale #teen wolf #stiles stilinski #sterek moodboard #sterek edit #teen wolf edits #sterek gifset #gifset #au #aesthetic #storms #mood board #my moodboards #moodboards for sterek aus #my writing #sterek fanfic #sterek ficlet #my stuff

[charged-wanderlust]

If its okay, can I request a little something for Jett and Remy? And the prompt is sharing!

you absolutely can, kind anon! my ask box is real empty so yall pls do keep these requests coming!

this is a self indulgent poly au in which the events of jett’s s1-2 happened alongside remy’s s1, probably when jett and mc were focused on the glass heart, since a whole lotta nothing happened then, the parker con happened at the same time?

send me a character and/or a vague prompt and i might write a ficlet!

“Okay, but if you’re in love with her, and I’m in love with her, who the hell is driving the car?”

“Jett, be serious.”

He sighed. “Okay, okay. Serious face.”

His face was not serious.

The two of them burst out laughing, as if the tension wasn’t thicker than all the layers of their collective baggage just a moment before. It was easy, with him. It always has been. Being fellow extroverts and idiots, it didn’t take long for the two of them to form a solid bond. So why strain it? What happened to the sloppy cons together, tussles amongst the sheets followed by deep pillow talk that goes on for hours, wine tasting dates in every city - well, maybe date was too strong of a word. Not-dates? Maybe-dates? Sort-of dates. Dates with the homies?

Oh come on Jett, why think of that now of all times?

Yet he couldn’t deny the appeal of the images popping up in his head. Old memories, sure, but they’d look so much better with you in it, naturally. The only thing triggering every sort of self-preservation alarm system in his mind was the fact that Remy was still in the picture. With you. Oh my god.

“This is gonna sound a little crazy, but I want you to hear me out.”

“Don’t bother.” Remy waved his hand dismissively. “I’m not... I’m not gonna get in the way of you two if you don’t want me to. She’s clearly quite fond of you, too, I just wanted to tell someone and I know Niko is awful with feelings and I should’ve probably asked Leon or Zoe but you were my first thought so-”

“Aww, Remy, I’m your first choice?”

“-and it’s more important to me that the two people I love most are happy and you’re both very good for each other and I want you both to be happy and yes I might be a bit of a jealous bastard sometimes but I promise I won’t do anything stupid and-”

“Remy.”

“Yes?”

Jett softened, the corners of his lips pulling up ever so slightly. “You’re doing something stupid right now.”

“I-I am?”

Communication. You’ve always been hammering it into him since day one, and he admired that about you. That you were able to speak your mind and not regret it. That you could express yourself and feel no fear, or feel it and stick to your guns anyway. You really are the queen of thieves, after all, but he’s a mere explosives expert and the way he expresses himself is through action. Whether that be blowing up a building, blowtorching a lock, diy-ing fireworks or pinning Remy to the nearest wall and kissing him senseless, he- 

Yeah, he went with the latter.

He honestly expected him to push back, tell him to be serious again, talk it out. But Remy was better at avoiding heavy conversations than he was at looking at Jett’s handsome face and resisting the urge to jump his bones, so neither of them made a move to stop. At least like this, they didn’t need to think about how complicated everything got. At least like this, all they needed to focus on was the softness of one another’s lips, the warmth of the other, pressed up chest to chest, the firmness of their grips in each other’s hair, and... ignore the hammering of their heartbeats.

That’s when you walk in.

“I fucking knew it! Vivienne, you owe me five hundred euros!”

Remy freezes up. Jett doesn’t care.

He just moves down to mouth at his neck, eyes flicking to meet yours. Dark, hungry.

“Congrats on your bet, care to join in?”

The frenchman almost yelps in surprise, eyes rapidly darting between you and Jett. “I-I can explain. It was me who talked him into it, I’ll lea-”

“Yeah real convincing, with him marking up your neck like it’s his private property,” you snort, not at all upset with the scene in front of you. Swinging the door shut, you hear wild hollering in the background of the remaining Poppy members, but you pay them no mind, sauntering up to the two of them.

Only then does Jett detached his lips from Remy’s neck, humming, “Don’t worry love, I can share. Can you?”

“Sh...share?”

Remy seemed absolutely gobsmacked at the suggestion, like it was a possibility he’d never even thought of, let alone considered. But when you placed your hands on him, leaning in close, he didn’t have it in him to pull away. With Jett on his neck and you on his lips, he felt like he could almost crumble, were your grips on him not so strong. So solid, so... reliable. You and Jett had always been spontaneous, but in the end... reliable.

He’d never liked the idea of sharing a partner with someone, but to be fair, he’d never seen the other side of the coin. To not have to choose, to surrender himself, to see those he loved at their happiest, loving him as well - oh dammit, he dropped the L word. He said it back when he was with Jett, too. Who was he kidding?

Remy didn’t like sharing. But it was alright if it was Jett and you.

#IS THIS MY LONGEST DRABBLE YET LMFAO #CAN YOU TELL IM DESPERATE FOR MY POLY JEMC AGENDA #this was so indulgent im sorry if this isnt what you wanted #that being said im rly proud of this #queen of thieves #jett x remy #jett x mc x remy #jett slater #remy chevalier #lovestruck voltage #qot mc #qot jett #qot remy #nikolai stirling #vivienne tang #zoe banks #leon kwan #Anonymous

[ficsyoumayhavemissed]

beautiful how it all pours out — hazkaban, @hazkabaan 

486 words / One Shot / Harry Styles x Louis Tomlinson

after an argument, harry reflects on the things he loves about louis.

Do your heart a favor… take just a few minutes to read this incredibly sweet and soft little fic. Don’t forget to thank the author for the loveliness with a kudo or comment.

guide you home — @nauticalleeds 

809 words / One-Shot / Harry Styles x Louis Tomlinson

It’s been a while since Harry’s been able to appreciate the night sky, been a while since his life wasn’t full of hectic schedules and interviews and jet lag. He looks at the sky a little longer, watches the stars blink back at him and thinks about another bright presence he’s been missing.

Taking out his phone from his pocket, he thumbs at his screen to open a new message.

Full moon tonight, he types, and presses send. He keeps the app open, expecting the message to come instantly.

It does.

(based on "such great heights" by the postal service.)

This little ficlet is so sweet and atmospheric and the whole time all I could think about was Canyon Moon! Go and give it a read, I promise it’ll put a smile on your face.

Out of My League — kikikryslee, @flamboyantommo 

1.413 words / One-Shot / Harry Styles x Louis Tomlinson

How did I wind up here? Louis thought to herself as Harry stuck her tongue down her throat. Again. The two of them were currently on the beach, cuddled together on their towels. It was nearly two in the morning, so they were actually all alone. It was just them, the sand and the ocean waves. --- Or, the one where Louis and Harry realize that a bachelorette party is the perfect time to start a relationship.

This one is just ridiculously sweet. They’re so honest and vulnerable with each other and the scenery is immersive that it feels like you’re there with them, one of the sand corns on the beach, happily watching along.

Like It’s The Only Thing I’ll Ever Do — cherrylarry, @beelou 

4.469 words / One-Shot / Harry Styles x Louis Tomlinson

"Wait," Liam stops. "Harry is proposing to Louis on the same day Louis is proposing to Harry?" "Yes! Isn't that exciting?" Lottie yells. "So! I want you to make sure their plans stay the same and they propose on the same day, at the same time. It would be so romantic, don't you think?"

No matter how many people try to plan the perfect proposal, the only thing perfect about it is how they always do things their way. We, in our own way, propose you go give this fic a read!

If you let me be your man — lightswoodmagic, @lightwoodsmagic​ 

5.129 words / One-Shot / Zayn Malik x Liam Payne / explicit

“Do you need help?” the man asked again, and Zayn brightened. He did need help with his heat, and the fact the man had asked just proved he was supposed to be Zayn’s alpha. Perfect.

“Yes, need to go home,” Zayn sighed, pleased when the man pulled him closer, away from a few alphas watching him with interest. “Need my nest.”

The man pulled back, brow furrowed, but Zayn could see his dilated pupils and the harsh set of his jaw. “Your nest? Okay love, let’s go. What’s your name?”

“Zayn.” He smushed himself against the man’s side as he led Zayn outside with a hand at the small of his back. “You smell good.”

There was a low chuckle that Zayn felt in his toes as they wandered towards his room. “Thank you, so do you."

Or, Zayn can't help but trail after someone's scent when he starts his heat in the middle of their history exam. The man offers to help Zayn get home safely when he literally runs into him, but Zayn mistakenly thinks it's an offer to help with his heat.

This sweet soulmate AU that was written for the ABO Fest is criminally underrated. A quick read and absolutely worth checking out!

I can’t do this alone (sometimes I just need a light) — Only_angel_28, @beau-soleil-louis​ 

7.858 words / One-Shot / Harry Styles x Louis Tomlinson

“Harry,” he says after another contemplative moment, “can I hug you?” It’s been...well, Harry doesn’t actually know how long it’s been. Less than an hour, probably, but already Louis says his name like it’s safe in his mouth, and now he’s opening his arms like Harry could be safe there too. “Please,” Harry nearly sobs, and sinks into him the way butter melts on toast. It’s an apt metaphor, really, because what Louis is giving him is as essential and sustaining as a loaf of bread to a starving man. His basic need for physical affection is as vital as his need for sustenance, for sleep, and he can’t believe he’s allowed himself to ignore it for so long. Or: Harry is having a rough time. Louis is the kind stranger who makes him smile again.

This fic makes you want to go find someone who is having a meltdown in a card aisle and just offer them kindness and human touch because sometimes that’s the most essential need a person can have. The way emotions are described in this fic is so deeply relatable that reading it will make you feel understood on a fundamental level. Don’t deny yourself the warm hug that is this fic!

Secrets of Eden — HappyPrincess, @pattern-pals​

31.158 words / One-Shot / Harry Styles x Louis Tomlinson

Trying to lift the secret of her mother's death, a curse that seems to have run in their family line for centuries, Louis has been dealing with bureaucracy, empty ruins in the moors, and a desperate ghost. But when she arrives in a small town that sleeps in the mountain's shadow, and is taken in by four girls and an ageless woman, she realises that nothing could have prepared her for the truth.

This fic gives so much intrigue and has so many wonderful, mysterious and original ideas! The plot is surprising at the right times and comforting at others and the writing just makes you feel like you’re right there with them, uncovering these age-old mysteries alongside the beautiful girls of OT5.

We’re acutely aware of the goings-on in the world right now and want to use the minor reach this blog gives us to support the #blacklivesmatter cause. 

One of the many perks of fandom is that you have the option to remain faceless. However, we feel it’s important to support openly Black creators and creators of Colour. @twopoppies​ has compiled a fantastic list of such creators that we consciously kept in our minds when choosing which fics we were going to read this month and will keep in mind as we go forward. 

Another thing we want to bring attention to is this petition to the OTW. Creators are asking ao3 and the OTW to implement stronger anti-racist architecture (for example, making certain issues require major archive warnings) on their site and explicitly state their plans to become a more comfortable space for BIPOC creators. You can read up on it here. 

Lastly, we would like to draw your attention to this valuable post by @pattern-pals​ titled “some easy ways to not white wash Zayn in your fic.” 

If you have the means, we encourage you to donate to BLM or similar anti-racist organizations where you live. Here’s a link to split your donation between 70+ different bail funds in the US. 

We hope you’re all safe in the midst of this pandemic and the protests around the globe. xx FYMHM

#june 2020 #fic rec #fymhm #sorry for the long post #but everything at the bottom of this rec is deeply important to us #and we will be reblogging the posts we linked as well as individual fic posts #edited after the author reveal of the ABO fest

[thelastspeecher]

A couple weeks ago, I got tagged by @eregyrn-falls in a thing, and it seemed like a lot of fun, so I decided I’d try to do it.  And maybe try to promote some of the stuff I posted last year that I feel deserve some more recognition, lol.

(Also, I thought this was going to be a lot easier than it wound up being.  I wrote more stuff than I thought I did last year, and I’m nothing if not my own biggest fan.  Oh, and I’m putting them in order of when I posted them, not in order of how much I like them, because I’d have even more difficulty ordering them than actually choosing them.)

Rules: It’s time to love yourselves! Choose your 8 (ish) favorite works you created in the past year (fics, art, edits, crafts, projects, etc.) and link them below to reflect on the amazing things you brought into the world in 2020. Tag as many writers/artists/etc. as you want (fan or original) so we can spread the love and link each other to awesome work!

1. Recoil Finale (February 2020)

I really enjoyed writing “Recoil”, and, in a stark contrast to my other multichaps currently languishing on AO3, I managed to finish it in a few months.  I also experimented with it a bit - I used a slightly different writing style for some parts, and the end ship was one that I haven’t really written much for.  And I think it turned out pretty well!

(Also, the fic that inspired it is stupid good.)

2. One-Word Ficlet Prompts (February/March 2020)

I wrote multiple ficlets for these one-word prompts, and there were four in particular that I wrote that I loved.  In fact, I loved them so much that I couldn’t choose one of them to include over the others, so I’m lumping the four in together.  Go read and enjoy them if you haven’t seen them.

3. Angela Pines (June 2020)

Would it surprise you to hear that I have over 10k written in this AU, despite only writing the one ficlet for it?  Probably not, my inability to stop writing things is, I think, well-known at this point.  But it’s a very interesting AU that we came up with on the Discord, and very fun to play around with.  I actually opened up the Word doc for that AU yesterday and did a bit of more writing for it, and someday, I’ll post it.  Hopefully.

(Also, if the AU interests you, holy heck, please please send me asks about it, I like the AU so much and want to talk about it on here.)

4. Spirit-Touched (July 2020)

This one is very obvious.  The first time I decided to post a non-Gravity Falls fic on AO3 (my inactive FF.net account has exclusively non-GF fics), and it very quickly turned into my most popular fic on AO3.  I’m pretty proud of it and glad that my return to writing ATLA fic was such a resounding success.

(Also, like with “Recoil”, the fic that inspired this is stupid good.)

5. Avatar AU Intro (August 2020)

This AU is so much fun, and I like how this, one of the first things I wrote for it, turned out.  Stan, after spending his entire life being ignored in favor of Ford, reluctantly shouldering the awesome responsibility that was supposed to be Ford’s?  That’s some quality Stangst right there.

6. Pirates! (September 2020)

We actually started talking about the Pirate AU again on the Discord recently, but this time, with Stana (aka fem!Stan).  The Pirate AU is so fun!  It was difficult to choose between this one and the one that is about Ford in the AU, but this one narrowly beat out the Ford one.

7. Elf Kid Adventures (November 2020)

How much I enjoy the AU is a big factor in which writes I included in this list, I’m now realizing, because my first thought was “The D&D AU is so fun!”  But it is so much fun!  Though I chose this one over the other D&D AU ficlets because it has my favorite trope (de-aging, which “Recoil” also had), and was the introduction of Stan as a ginger half-elf kid.  Quality content.

8. A Case of Mistaken Identity Chapter 4 (December 2020)

Honestly?  This one is on the list solely because I’m glad I managed to update it before a year had passed since its latest chapter.  Well, I also like how the chapter turned out, and it was fun to finally bring Stan into the fic.  But the main thing is that I updated it twice within one year.

And as for the people I should tag...I honestly think that most of my mutuals have already been tagged for this.  But if you’re a mutual of mine and you haven’t been tagged yet, consider this post to be me tagging you.  Tag!

#my writing #my stuff #tag meme #speecher speaks

[blue-mood-blue]

2020 Fanfiction Review

Tagged by @northisnotup - thank you! Pls ignore the fact that we are a week into the new year, shhhh

Fics Written This Year:

I went back to look and there's a few! Fifteen on ao3, not counting tumblr ficlets! Most are Ace Attorney - eight this year and an honest attempt at an event week that I did not finish, but I did try my best and got a good few fics out of. There's one Hollow Knight fic, which is a fandom I'll have to revisit in writing (maybe once I have more than the one ending). Three October Daye fics, definitely a fandom I'll be writing more for at some point. And three for Juno Steel!

(And then of course there are the ideas I had this year that I haven't gotten to act on yet. There's always so much more in my head than I get down on paper, but I'm working on that.)

Takeaways from your kick-ass writing, or kick-ass lack of writing, during a year more focused on survival than perhaps any other:

It's been a weird year! Between quarantine and contract nonsense, there's been a lot of back-and-forth with "home all the time" and "going to work every day." Free time at home does not always translate to more writing done, for me, which is something I've been trying to crack the code on this year especially. I'm still just as much about aus and angst as I've ever been! And I generate ideas at an ungodly rate, so I've been spending more time deciding which ones I really want and which ones are free to a good home.

Most surprising fic you wrote this year:

Probably Directive Four! It was one of those headcanons that could technically happen in the canon of the story - technically Dark Matters could do some funky stuff with robots, and wouldn't it be interesting if they pushed their technology? I really thought it was gonna be a silly one-off, mostly-idea ficlet on tumblr; the kind of thing you write a blurb about just to get the thought out of your head to share with other people. A thousand words at most, and something to take people's minds off of election+destiel+what the fuck. And it... grew, every time I worked on it. And I got committed and really worked on it and HECK if I wasn't expecting to get so invested I REALLY wasn't expecting the response. "This will just be my self-indulgent thing and it'll be fine if I'm the only one who likes it" was the mantra, but a lot of you loved it and I am so, SO appreciative <3 One of the highlights of this year

(There was also the Ib ficlet which no one expected, including me. And Crazy Capsaicin Charlie, who lives on in our memory)

How you grew as a writer this year:

I don't necessarily have any evidence to support this, but I feel more... solid, about big projects? I feel more committed to finishing long fics, which doesn't necessarily mean that I will. But I feel better about my ability to do so. It's work and it's hard, but I can get that fic to look the way I want it to - or, if I can't, it's worth finding a way to tell the story in a way I can share even if it's not perfect. I hope that means I'm letting go of the perfectionism a little bit, because I feel like I could get so many more of my ideas written if not for that.

What's coming in 2021:

WELL, I guess the good thing about coming in late with this is, I've already written the first fic of 2021! By the hardest, too - there was the unexpected ep drop (and since it was speculation fic I really wanted to have it out before the next ep), and then tumblr said "you can't post that, that's too long" after so much formatting. And then after more formatting ao3 said "what if the whole site was down, as a treat." Sleep Awake is not what I expected it to be - it might have been much longer, in different circumstances - but I still think it's good, and I'm glad I didn't give up on it.

And I have a whole list of Juno Steel fics to get working on! There's a circus au, a hanahaki au, lots of requests left to fill, amnesia to inflict... I'm very excited! I hope you are, too!

~~~

Tagging any and everyone who wants to talk about their year of fic! :D

[a-very-fond-farewell]

The forbidden crack! Untamed prompts: 24/?

Role-reversed!AU (Song[Xiao]Xue): “Love at First Sight”

[villain!SL/investigator!XY]

[title is from a Kylie Minogue’ song and from nowhere else fight me]

[so. me is embarrassed to say this but. the idea comes from an Italian movie of the late 90’s.]

[which is to say that: (1) Italian comedies are rarely my thing bc they are (pardon my French, I don’t feel like switch to Italian rn) problematique most of the times; (2) it’s been 10 or so years since I last saw this particular movie and even if at the time I liked it I was probably sixteen at the time so... not the best judge also my memory is shit for actual plot points; (3) internalized homophobia runs in the Italian film industry; (4) it deals with criminal gangs and, even if the movie makes fun of them, it is still a sore topic in my country so... I’m not gonna go in detail for this ficlet. it is, in fact, just a prompt; (5) also there is a cop character and... well, I changed it into a private investigator bc fuck it; (6) ignore me, I’m emotional tonight.]

*

Married off. Him. To a lovely girl, for sure, but with a penchant for pickpocketing and letting her mouth run at the most inconvenient of times. The wedding is in six months. Song Lan has to laugh at that.

But Mother has been almost too complacent with him for the longest time, allowing him to play his games and get it on with too many women for him to care to keep track of. He may or may not have disrespected some of them and their powerful families in the past for being a serial womanizer. There’s a logic behind it, of course, but since his eye surgery he cannot seem to remember what that could have possibly been at the time.

The worst of all being that he doesn’t remember why he ever found women attractive in the first place. People of the Baixue Clan tried to cheer him up to no avail for months. They took him to brothels, called in his favorite rent-girls, tipped them extra, brought him out of town on vacation to distract him, but... nothing.

He feels like crying sometimes. He’s done. Broken. Nobody will ever take him seriously anymore now that he’s nothing but his mommy’s boy. Forget for a minute that his mother is keeping the entire Yi City in check by enforcing her law on other clans. Let alone that her word has ruled over rascals and rogue hotheads for decades just by letting them hear her name. BaoShan Sanren would have not forgiven him for turning down the daughter of a competing family, that’s for sure.

Sometimes Song Lan looks down at himself, dressed in ridiculously flashy buttondowns open at the collar, with black jackets and fitting trousers, embezzled shoes on his long feet... and he wants to shriek. He hates everything about himself and he doesn’t know where to start. He doesn’t recognize himself anymore, almost as if his mind had changed about everything he believed to know.

At least he can see again. That should be enough, right?

*

It should have seen it fucking coming, Xue Yang knows this much.

A bullet to the heart would have hurt him less, but it’s been a year since his husband’s death and he’s done. He’s fucking done. Throwing himself away like that, recklessly accepting new cases one after the other just because. He’s got nothing to come home for anyway.

But as he disinfects the slash of a dagger on his shoulder, he wonders if there’s more to life than this. A dirty bathroom where he and his husband used to shave in the morning together before work. A stuffy apartment filled with unwanted memories. Mold on the ceiling, laughter rising to the sky every night before Xiao XingChen died. Before everything else left with him.

Xue Yang flinches when the alcohol stings badly on the cut and he chugs some vodka down for good measure as he prepares to stitch the gaping wound back together. The flame scorches the needle until it becomes almost white and he wonders, not for the first time, how it would feel to just... stop. He cried so much he doesn’t have tears left anymore.

The last time he saw his husband’s beautiful face it was at the morgue, where a dispassionate woman in white had asked him to confirm his identity. She asked him if he had formally agreed to put his husband’s name on the list of organ donors. He refused in the beginning... and then thought about it. About what his righteous husband would have wanted him to do.

Letting go of him –of any part of him, really– so soon tore him apart.

Since there was nothing left of Xiao XingChen, it was just right for not a single thing of Xue Yang to be left in his wake as well.

Well, aside from the pain. But that was to be expected after all.

He had never deserved anything but pain in his life.

Fuck that. Fuck that shit.

*

Mother asked him to look for a mole in the group, but he found a mere nobody snooping around in their area instead. Searching for what, he doesn’t know. But, as he crowds the other man in a dark alley behind the secret entry of their club, Song Lan cannot help himself from staring.

The laundromat from where their regular patrons usually enter to play is open 24/7, the flickering light coming from its open door casting just... the loveliest shadows on the younger man’s face. He’s shorter, much shorter than him. Possibly in his early thirties. Dressed nicely with a gun pointed at Song Lan... but he doesn’t care.

It’s almost as if something has fallen back in its original place and Song Lan is filled with elation. He has never felt more relieved or happy in his life. It feels like a second chance at life, an opportunity he doesn’t want to let slide through his fingers this time around.

He grasps the other man’s hand holding the gun and directs it upwards in a swift move. A bullet cuts through the air as he pushes the shorter man up to the laundromat window, neon lights dancing on Song Lan’s face. Soon people from the club will rush to his aid, knowing full well that he’s out looking for a snitch. He doesn’t have time, so he takes a good look at the person at his mercy.

He knows him.

And he falls in love, immediately.

*

The shot still rings in his ear, the gun burning in his outstretched hand, now caught in a vicious grasp. Xue Yang flinches as he looks up and gets ready to defend himself. He was just following a useless son of a bitch lying to his wife about not playing cards and losing all of their money. He would have never thought it would turn so bad so soon. Usually he gets away quickly enough, running for his life as usual...

...but this is different.

His gaze meets Xiao XingChen’s eyes and he freezes on the spot. He would recognize them anywhere, the same glassy quality to them, the same softness around them. Nothing makes sense anymore.

Because the one in front of him looks nothing like his husband.

And yet he knows him.

He knows what it feels to be looked with fondness and longing by one Xiao XingChen.

Fuck, he missed that.

He missed that so much.

*

[additional nonsense under the cut, bc. I am me]

[the original movie is a comedy, but I saw this post while I was writing the prompt and now it’s a fucking urban-noir kind of deal baby!]

[am I procrastinating another ficlet (slowly turning into a 20k monster bc I’m stupid) by writing this prompt instead? no. what are you talking about?]

[i wanted SL to have a family, but I had no idea what the people at the Temple would have looked like or acted around him, so I imagined BaoShan Sanren hoarding children as she goes (which is canon anyway) but she’s a villain in this bc I’m an asshole.]

[SL is the only one of her children to have an actual father, hence he’s the only one with a last name different from Sanren (which I know is a title but let. me. live. *kissy face* :* :* :* many thanks.]

[I offer Lan QiRen as a tribute for fatherhood, even if I know SL’s surname is written like “mist”, while the Lan Sect is named after the character for “blue”. but let me dream.]

[also I just like the idea of SL’s auntie or big sister being WWX’s mother for no other reason that this is a silly prompt and I need to fill these additional notes with something vaguely resembling a plot.]

[if you want another role-reversed!au check this other (wangxian) prompt of mine. then check all the others and have fun.]

[in the movie there was a scene where the widower runs on a horse to save the man he (begrudgingly) has come to care about from his wedding.]

[for the majority if not the entirety of the movie the widower sees something of his dead wife in the criminal (who received the wife’s eyes through transplant) and denies any attraction to him until the end... even if he runs away with him.]

[the criminal has changed since the transplant and became somewhat a decent person. in the end he runs away with the widower.]

[I wanted actual romance, not plausible deniability, thanks. hence this stupid prompt someone might like, maybe.]

[if you write something based on this prompt (the most angsty or hurt/comfort-y the better, but also fluff or *coughs*smut*coughs* is good) send me an ask. I want to read it! :D]

ok now I go back to my 20k-and-counting monster fic. bye!!

#songxuexiao #songxue #xiaoxue #mdzs #the untamed #mo dao zu shi #cql #the forbidden crack! untamed prompts #mdzs/au: modern #mdzs/au: noir #mdzs/au: role-reversed

[kleptoandpyro]

Fanfic Author Asks

Tagged by @sophiainspace  -  I don’t have a lot of fics published so I tend not to do this sort of thing, but meh, what the hell. Apparently today’s the day \o/

Author Name: kleptoandpyro, formerly Le_Me.

Fandoms You Write For: First started writing for Harry Potter, when I was about 23 (still a hell of a lot of WIPs knocking around, wups) but now I’m concentrating only on Arrowverse stuff and I’ve also got one (1) Doom Patrol fic published, but I wanna do more DP one day. Thinking about doing something for Good Omens, too.

Most Popular One-Shot: ‘Negativity’. Which is a Doom Patrol Cliffarry fic, although you can read it mostly as Gen. Kind of a spur of the moment thing, that one.

Most Popular Multi-Chapter Story: I only have one completed, multi-chapter story, which is ‘Saints and Sinners’. Coldflash Vices and Virtues/Angels and Demons AU. Fun fact: this was my first ever attempt at smut, and it amazes me how well it was received.

Favourite Story You Wrote: Probably ‘Eight for Eight’. A Gen Legends fic that follows Martin Stein as he tries to convince Len to put on a thematic sweater so he doesn’t get cold outside. I love Gen. I actually prefer to Gen to shipping. And I’d always wanted more Stein & Sinnamon Rolls interactions.

Story You Were Most Nervous to Post: I don’t really get nervous posting stuff. A) Cos I’ve never really tackled any controversial topics in my fics, and B) Even if I had written something polarising, it’s up to the reader IMO to read the tags and the summary and work out for themselves if it’s something they’re ok reading about. I have no patience for folk who flame fics and anonymously insult authors in the comments because a fic didn’t do what THEY wanted it to. Like, bitch I didn’t write this for you, I wrote if for myself and all the other people who are interested in it.

But, if I had to pick it would be ‘5 Times Rip Knew that Time Hadn’t Completely Forsaken Him’ because it was my Rarepair Swap challenge fic, and I went with a completely new idea 3 days before the deadline. There was literally no time to think, I just had to get it written, which was kinda daunting. And it was a pairing I’d never written before, TimeCaptain, so there was that. My giftee loved it though, so it all worked out.

How Do You Choose Your Titles: PUNS. Usually. Infact...looks back... yes, they’re pretty much all puns. The odd few are named for the theme of the fic or taken from an in-fic quote, but the majority are puns.

Do You Outline? Sorry, I’ve not heard of her.

In Progress: Ugh, like too many. My docs folder is a pure shitshow. I have the attention span of a lettuce leaf so I can like start a fic usually no problem, but a few pages in I just get bored and start doing something else. If I do come back to something, it’s usually in dribs and drabs. The only way I can get a fic published, is if I power it out in as few sessions as possible. If I take too many times to come back to it, the lower the probability it’ll ever get finished.

Coming Soon/Not Yet Started: The number of headwips I possess is literally a googleplex.

Do You Accept Prompts: Yes, I do Six Sentence Sundays now. It’s actually helping me get back into writing and trying to just get a lot of words out without thinking about it too much. They’re short and sweet and I can do them within an hour or two, which is great for my terrible focus, so it works. Tbh you can send me any type of ask (for the ships I like) and I’ll always try and produce something for it. Right now I have a 100% prompt to ficlet success rate; I’ve not ignored a single one.

Upcoming Story You Are Most Excited to Write: I’ve had a Coldflash fairytale AU knocking around forever and it’s survived the test of time without me getting bored of the idea, so I definitely am looking forward to that. Prepare yourselves for Barry Allen as a weepy princeling and Len, once an Ice Mage, now demoted to the Fairy Godfather of the Central Kingdom - against his will. Cue the wishes.

Tagging: If you’ve already done this, ignore my ass @meowitskatmofo @blueelvewithwings-blog @hiverforesteevee @lacommunarde @a-redharlequin

#fic author meme #fanfiction meme #fanfic ask meme #fanfic author meme #kleptoandpyro fics

[im-the-king-of-the-ocean]

For the Ficlet prompt thing: AU where Barbara tries to save Jim during the bath bomb episode, but accidentally falls in with him. Both her and Jim are transformed. Nomura comforts her after the fact.

Moonlight filters down through the leaves of the trees, dappling the ground below and sparkling in the pool the creek flows into.  Nomura stops, concealed, in the shadow of a large oak.  She breathes in relief when she sees her quarry has stopped in the peaceful clearing.  She’s really not in the mood to continue their chase.

Rather than make her presence known, Nomura turns back, walks some distance away, and waits for the one following her.  It doesn’t take Jim more than five minutes to catch up.

“Nomura!”  He skids to a halt right in front of her.  “Did you catch her?”

“Quiet!”  Nomura snaps as loudly as she dares.  So far, Barbara’s fled at the slightest provocation.  If she finds out they’re there, if that upsets her, she could run again.  Then, Nomura would be stuck in this frustrating pursuit until sunup.

“You need to go back to the house.  Now.”  Nomura tolerated Jim tailing her so long as confronting him would cost her precious time she couldn’t afford to lose.  Now, that no longer applies.

Jim growls, “She my mother.”  Despite the lack of light around them, Nomura can still see his new fangs as he bares his teeth.  Is he seriously threatening her?  Her?

Nomura forces herself to ignore the temptation of rising to Jim’s challenge.  “You have to let me do this.  Alone.”

“She’s just scared.  Like I was.  I can—”

“The sight of you is what set her off in the first place.”  Is Nomura being overly harsh?  Probably.  But the facts remained.  Out of all of them, Barbara has had the most negative response to Jim so far.  If he was the one to approach her now, it wouldn’t end well.

Jim visibly wilts.  His ears lower.  He loses his threatening stance.

In a softer, almost apologetic (but no one can prove it) tone, Nomura adds, “Trust me, little gynt.  I’ll bring her home.”

“You’d better.”  Jim takes one last look past her shoulder, and then goes bounding through the woods back the way they’d come.

Nomura exhales the breath she held.  She would have neutralized Jim if it came to that, but she’s glad it didn’t.  She returns to the clearing.

Barbara is lying on her side by the creek.  One of her new wings is spread out on the thick grass behind her, while the other is pulled around her like a blanket.  Her back is to Nomura, but the changeling can hear her quiet sobs regardless.  As Nomura gets closer, she sees her still-thin frame wrack with each cry too.

Crack.

A twig breaks under Nomura’s hoof.  She silently curses.

Barbara’s head jerks up, and then the rest of her.  She splashes into the creek as she stumbles to her feet.

“Barbara.” Nomura tries to keep her voice calm, despite her own growing apprehension.  “You have two choices here.  You can either run and we can continue this pointless chase for the rest of the night or you can talk to me.”

“Go away.”  Barbara takes a step back.  “Just leave me alone.”

“I can’t do that.”  Nomura advances.  “Everyone’s worrying about you.  I need you to come home.”

“NO!”  Barbara snarls.  She charges.

Nomura feels Barbara barrel into her a second before her mind recognizes what’s happening.  Barbara swipes at her with her claws, but Nomura manages to avoid that part of the attack.  Nomura retreats to gain distance.  Barbara charges again.  Nomura dodges.  Barbara continues, and slams into a tree.  Nomura tenses for Barbara’s next attack, but it doesn’t come.  After a minute, she realizes that the recently turned half-troll is stuck, or at least her horns are.  In the tree.

Well, at least she can’t run anymore.

Barbara shrieks.  She yanks her head back, but her horns don’t budge.  She swipes at the tree, slicing off long pieces of bark but the act doesn’t free her.

Nomura waits.

Eventually, Barbara tires of her fruitless assault on the tree.  She stops thrashing, and just stands there.  Her body heaves with her breathes.

“If I free you, are you going to attack me?”  Nomura asks quietly.

“No,” Barbara whispers.

“Are you going to run?”

No answer.

“I won’t free you if you’re going to run away,” Nomura informs her.

“Fine.  I won’t run.  Now, help me.”

Nomura attempts to pull Barbara from the tree, but quickly realizes how futile that is.  Instead, she digs into the tree and yanks bark off of it until Barbara’s horns come free.

They stand there for a long minute.  Barbara, still catching her breath.  Nomura, finally taking the chance to look at her.

In the time since they’d first found Barbara after she’d grabbed onto her son in an attempt to save him from submersion in Merlin’s transformation spell and been pulled in with him instead, Nomura had only gotten fleeting glances at the doctor’s new form.

Barbara’s blue, like Jim, but a shade or two darker than him.  Her hair, which was always long, can be classified as a full mane now.  It tumbles in thick, rusty red waves almost to her waist.  The tips of her pointed ears barely peak out from it.  Her horns rise above her head in a first point, before swooping back into a second.  There’s a smattering of softly glowing, almost freckle-like markings across her face.  Her eyes, which Nomura is relieved to find have stayed their original, familiar, light blue, look so, so scared.

Without thinking about it, Nomura holds out a hand to her.

Barbara reaches forward, hesitates, and then finishes the motion of putting her hand in Nomura’s.  Her lower lip wobbles and she lets out a cry.

Nomura pulls her in close, and guides her to sitting on the ground.  Barbara buries her face in Nomura’s shoulder and fully cries then.  Nomura attempts to rub soothing circles on her back, but its tricky due to Barbara’s wings, which resemble that of a luna moth.

“I don’t know what I am anymore, Zelda.”  Barbara shakily whispers.

Nomura keeps her arms wrapped around the new half-troll.  “You’re someone I love,” she replies.

#trollhunters #whirlpools writing #barbmura #zelda nomura #barbara lake #jim lake jr #whirlpools ficletathon #tunafishprincess #the doctor and the museum curator #whirls writing

[ladylynse]

If you're still doing that title thing: "Contrasting Forces"

…I had to think about this one for a bit, trying to pick the best fandom for it—and, y’know, if possible one that you’re a bit more familiar with. I’d actually probably do AD:JL with this, in that Huntsclan!Jake AU I’ve done a bunch of others in. (I kinda fell in love with that AU….)

Here’s how it goes in case you missed it: Susan and Lao Shi / Jake and Rose / Hidden Fire / Haley / The Hunt / Shadowed Scales / True Nature / Slitted Pupils, Serpent Tongue / Rose and Jake / Contrasting Forces / Breaking Point /Scales

EDIT: Now expanded on FF | AO3

This particular ficlet would probably be Susan-centric. She knows now what happened to her first-born. Only in a vague sense, but she doesn’t need to know the details right now. She doesn’t have to see his mark to know that he has one. And now he’s coming to her for help, and she doesn’t know if she can trust him. She doesn’t know her own son.

He’s not as careful as he thinks he is. He tries to change his manner, to bear no resemblance to 99, the Huntsclan member she’d first interrogated, but in truth he fails at that miserably. She’s not one to be picked out of a crowd on description alone; she’s spent her life trying to blend in and be like everyone else, and without dragon powers of her own, she’s quite good at it. Without a photograph or something of the like, he should have never been able to find her.

Her agreeing to help him is as much to get to know him as anything else. They agree upon the date and time of their next meeting spot before parting, and they haven’t used the same place twice. It’s a measure as much to protect him as to protect her. He may still try to ambush her, to call the Huntsclan down on her, but she isn’t a dragon. They might capture her, might torture her, but she’d die before betraying her family. She’s ensured as much, thanks to a spell found in one of Fu’s books. (She always was good at mixing up potions; she never found it terribly different from cooking.)

She doesn’t tell him who she is, not her last name or who she is to him. She picks her words carefully and doesn’t allude to how she knows the American Dragon or any of the other ones with which the Huntsclan is familiar. She’s doesn’t let on how much she knows about dragons or about the magical world, and he has no way of knowing how deep her connections run.

In effect, she’s learning as much from him as he is from her. He can’t hide his frustration, and it’s not always because he can’t seem to master a particular element of the rough training schedule she’s set up for him. Too often, it’s because she won’t tell him something or because she plays dumb. She isn’t sure if he always believes her ignorance, but he seems to.

He also seems to believe that she thinks him a reluctant captive of the Huntsclan, coerced into trickery to try to trap other dragons in exchange for his eventual freedom. He’s told her that he hopes to learn enough to break free of them and not come back but didn’t seem happy when she pointed out it would serve them well if they could spend as much time if not more studying the Huntsclan and their ways to make that a reality.

A few weeks pass before the strain of this on him begins to be truly evident. He’s been coming to their meetings with little to no sleep for days, and for the first time, he seems properly wary. She wants to know what’s changed, but he won’t tell her, waving off her questions with vague answers about increased expectations.

She’s not sure if the increased expectations came along with increased responsibilities or stricter regulations, nor if they’re a result of some sort of promotion or a reaction to the events of the past few weeks. But she can see a bit of herself in him now, the way he’s starting to be worn raw. He’s at war with himself, a dragon who bears the mark of the slayers, and he’s desperately trying to contain contrasting forces. He’s hiding his true nature from the Huntsclan, hiding the rest of his life from her, and trying to come to terms with the fact that he’s something he was taught to despise.

He hasn’t accepted himself, and everything will come to a head more quickly if he doesn’t.

He can’t straddle two worlds forever. He’ll have to pick a side eventually and reveal the truth to one of them. She wishes it were an easy choice, that he’d have no trouble forsaking the Huntsclan, but they are all he has known until now. As far as he is concerned, they are his family. Perhaps it seems easier to hate what he is or to see it as something to rise above than to see it for the gift it truly is.

If he has been trying to change the Huntsclan from the inside, he’s no better at that than he is at tailing people who have training when it comes to being followed. And if he’s been trying to get in and take them down from the inside, well, she’s made sure he hasn’t made much progress on that front. He seems to be softening, so she’s allowing herself to hope, but she refuses to let herself trust.

“Please, if I could just meet the American Dragon and explain to her—”

Susan smiles softly. He always makes the same plea, and he must know her response before she gives it. His face is already falling, but she can’t change her answer. She can’t give in, not yet.

If she trusts her son too soon, she may forfeit her daughter.

Susan and Lao Shi / Jake and Rose / Hidden Fire / Haley / The Hunt / Shadowed Scales / True Nature / Slitted Pupils, Serpent Tongue / Rose and Jake / Contrasting Forces / Breaking Point / Scales

(see more fics)

#adjl #jake long #susan long #adjl fanfiction #fanfiction #adjl au #au #fic ideas #my writing #ladylynse #thanks for this Az! #hope you don't mind I did an AU with this #it's just a good AU #azthedragon #asks

[fleetofshippyships-archive]

WIP tag meme

aaah, I was tagged over 2 months ago by @parkkate O.O sorry for not doing this sooner @parkkate​ XD I’ve been offline for a few months! Just now catching up on everything I missed! but I’m ignoring asks for now because my inbox is a mess

The Rules: Post the names of all the files in your WIP folder, regardless of how non-descriptive or ridiculous.

I’m gonna cheat and only do this for my drarry wips, since I post everything else on another account now, and tbh I have so many drarrys it’s still gonna be a long ass post XD

Oh man *sweats nervously* I’m a bit of a hoarder in all aspects of my life...I don’t even know where to begin! 

I’m not tagging anyone cos I was tagged 2 months ago and I have no idea who has and hasn’t done this and don’t want to be a pain. But if you wanna do it, go a head, and please tag me so I can be nosy and hopefully find someone with a wip problem as bad as my own so I can be less embarrassed XD

Also I’m putting this under a cut for reasons

1. 4th year au idea 

Sooooo, right off the bat, I often open a new file to jot down an idea even though I have docs specifically to dump ideas...and then at some point during the process of jotting down basic details of the idea...I start writing it....? This is one such occurrence...but I had to open it to check...and now I want to keep writing it XD

But also yikes it’s super dark

2. ... 4th year au idea

I swear, this is an entirely different wip and I am going ‘wtf’ at myself because wtf that’s confusing! I had also totally forgotten the existence of this before opening it....probably because of the name of it and the only reason I apparently have 2 files the exact same name is that one is a word doc and one is a libre office doc XD

3. drarry character death idea

Soooo, I need to stop turning idea files into wips without changing the names because I actually forget they are wips apparently

Also, I really want to finish this RIGHT NOW IT HURTS SO GOOD GIMME GIMME GIMME

4. Veela fic followup

LOL LOL LOL I’m rewriting my veela fic so I don’t know what the fuck I’m going to end up doing with this XD I might have to try and merge it with the re-write if the story has a similar outcome when I’m done. or maybe I’ll just turn this into its own thing....

5. Veela fic present tense

I really need to get back to working on this, this is actually the full re-write that re-doing the tenses spawned...I was binge writing this before my life went to hell but then my life went to hell and I went offline for like three months and didn’t do any writing or anything XD

although, the last time I looked at it I got the itch to change it back to past tense so who fucking knows what I’ll do with it now

6. Veela fic Draco pov

Curse my obsession with alternate povs of the same story and Draco for being such a good angsty pov

7. Veritaserum idea start

At least this one has ‘start’ in it so I know it is in fact a wip and not just an idea outline XD

7. Veritaserum

So, turns out I started that fic over in a new file and just left the old one lying around XD I do that too often. I should delete that other one...

Also...this better not turn into another ‘Amortentia’ with me unable to think of a fucking title and going with the file name because lame

This is also my first time trying to do god’s eye 3rd person instead of 3rd person pov...also first time trying to do this weird structure thing...I dunno but I like it XD

8.  CTS followup

9. CTS sequel

Two separate followups set at different times in the same story verse... I hate myself. I love them both. I can’t pick which one to stop writing so I’m gonna keep them both around and try and make them merge at some point...

10. MMB saying sorry

11. another erase the shame

12. next erase the shame

I work on followups and lose interest so often (usually because people bug me for followups and I get very ‘fuck you’ about it and stop writing them...but I keep them around and tinker with them every now and then soooo they’re still technically wips

13. Tea and Coffee oneshot series (Tea and Coffee, Coffee and Dark Marks, The Cottage Kitchen, next untitled one)

There’s also a present tense version of the first one of those *sweats nervously* first 3 are finished, of course, but my original purpose is lost to them becoming a long fic soo....gonna merge them into one long fic soon...once I decide what tense I like better......kill me now

14. Communion of the Soul (folder name)

This is the sequel to One Touch and this is spread across 5 files because apparently I did that and even though each time I got to work on it I have to figure out which file holds which part of the sequel timeline and which I feel like working on...I have yet to merge them into one file to make my life easier...

15. Crumbling Facade

ugh working on this always makes me want to re-write restraint and actually put in the major plot line, or what was supposed to be Harry’s major plot line before the relationship crap got away from me and I had to cut out all the plot stuff because by the time I got around to addressing it, it started reading like a completely different fic and I had to cut a huge chunk and end it instead, because back then I sucked more than I do now and couldn’t juggle

sooo...I still work on this in starts and stops and then get frustrated for having to stick to Restraint’s chain of events when I have better ideas now for working in Harry’s plot about his damn magic problem and ARRGEHGEHGFVEDHDBVUIOFNBFKDB EFBVJ

I should just let Crumbling Facade take me where it wants to take me and fuck Restraint

16. Potter’s Insatiable Heart

This is my longest wip at 130k XD and I’m stalling now because if I keep going with it where I was intending to go it will end up my longest fic and I’m getting intimidated by the length and how much work it will be to edit that long of a fic so I just go in and write a few paragraphs now and again, get scared of the length and move on to another wip XD

I also periodically binge read this bitch because I love it to death even though it’s severely flawed XD

17. Corset Drarry

oh boy, when I started writing this this I was weirded out by writing a kink I didn’t understand and kind of tailed off and left it...then I did kinktober for voltron and now I’m laughing at myself because corsets and lingerie is so fucking tame after that kinktober list and all the the crap I wrote for it XD

18. Music in the Periphery

Emily bugs me about finishing this a lot...I bug me about finishing it, progress is non-existent because I have a clear plan for it and when I have a clear plan I can’t write for shit

19. Saying Sorry (Round 2) (MMB)

I gotta kick that habit of starting over with something but keeping the first attempt and still working on it parallel to the second attempt, because then I wind up with 2 fics too similar to each other to post both and I’m completely unable to pick which one I like more *facepalm*

Also, MMB is dead if I can’t stop turning the next fic attempts into angst, I just look at that big fluffy mess and want to angst it all up

20. scrapped MMB ficlets - theo’s letter

not technically drarry thought the greater series is drarry...torn between making it mmb or making it its own fic for a rare pair

21. Weather the Storm

*cries* my 6th year war au, I have such plans for this, but the plans get in the way of writing =(

22. Soulmate AU (folder name)

fucking hell, this is 10+ files and I’m not naming all of them, current count is 5 completed versions 60k+ each, 1 incomplete alternate version, all of which I’m seriously unsatisfied with, none of which I can bear to delete, all of which I periodically go and tinker with, thus leaving them all wips i’m such a fucking hoarder but also I have never gotten over all the awful comments that were on the original soulmate fic on ffnet before my purge and now I can’t ever be satisfied unless it is perfect and wont result in such horrible comments again

23. Turnabout (folder name)

Once again, multiple wips in here of the same 60k finished fic I’ve been unhappy with since the moment I finished it and keep trying to fix by starting over and changing things here and there to change the course of the story. Honestly ready to hit the delete button with this one unless my latest attempt pans out, liking it so far buuuut I’m a mess about my writing so who knows

In the Ways that Matter was based off this fic XD

24. Dependency 

Oh boy, I abandoned this cos it was so dark I got too uncomfortable writing it...I’ve since started revisiting it after being in the Voltron fandom gave me a new tolerance range for dark content XD

Plan on posting this on anon if I ever finish it, obviously changing the title XD it stopped being relevant after the first 30k anyway 

25. Dependency V2

LOL light version of the above that removes most of the dark aspects while maintaining the core plot, but I’m finding it a bit dull XD not sure how long I’ll keep trying to chug along with it

26. *censored title*

hahahaha omg why is this in a different subfolder, this is actually one of the soulmate au ones only it’s actually a spin off au of the original soulmate one I from ffnet and therefore it’s new ground and I’m less unhappy with it

.....I’m probably going to stop working on turnabout today and work on this instead now

(censoring the name because I might post this on anon because I’m too scared to post another drarry soulmate fic under my own name)

27. Retrospection

Sooo, I’m always on and off this fic cos it triggers my anxiety and depression, but fuck that I want to write it so I keep trying XD

I’m also thinking of splitting the two main plots and only going with 1 and using the other to write another story....see if that eases how difficult it is for me to write without self triggering

28. Sequel to mornings

29. Sunrise (loose prequel to mornings)

30. Surrender

I had no idea what this was, opened it and then holy shit THIS BITCH, THIS SLOW BURN FRIENDS TO LOVERS PIECE OF BULLSHIT. I DON’T WRITE SLOW BURN! I DON’T WRITE FRIENDS TO LOVERS. I REFUSE.

but also I really really really love what I wrote so far and now I’m itching to write more *cries* making this list is leaving me with so many open files to work on

31. day 2 ass worship

32. day 3 sensory deprivation

*laughs nervously* the kinktober oneshots that starting turning into a long fic hahahaha cos I really needed more wips

33. Perception of Angels

*wistful sigh* one day I will be able to finish a heavily plot driven story full of fantasy elements and creatures and magic I made up, and when that day somes, Perception of Angels....or that timetravel war au drarry fic idea I have sitting around.....which isn’t on this list only cos I’m not stupid enough to start writing it

So that’s all the drarry files in my wip folder.... I also have heaps more for other ships and fandoms, but I’m keeping that separate =)

And...now I have some writing to go do, cos after 2 months of being unable to write thanks to the bullshit in my life, I started binge writing again 2 days ago =) and opening a few of these to remind myself what they were has a lit a fire under my ass

#* #tag game #wip meme #i have too many wips #and this is only the drarry ones #and tbh there's another folder i didn't check because i'm pretending it doesn't exist #because they're all super plotty things and i do.not.have.the.time #i wish i could feel more secure in my writing so i could just post some of the completed things #and stop messing with them in a vain effort to make them perfect

[divagonzo]

Promises made

A/N: So @martinlydia politely inquired if I could do a 20-minute ficlet for Ron and Hermione, potentially AU that the BoH wasn’t their first kiss sooo..... it took an hour and any errors are mine. It’s not Shell Cottage but I hope it’s reasonably enjoyable.

"Ron, Hermione's here. Come get her trunk and take it to Ginny's room."

Ron shoved the book 12 Failsafe ways to Woo your Witch under his bed and lumbered down the stairs. It seemed like he grew another 2 inches since he last saw Hermione only a few short weeks ago. He now towered over Bill and his Dad.

He arrived down in the kitchen and saw Hermione standing there fiddling with her jacket on the clothes rack by the door. She turned and Ron bit back a huge gasp. Hermione was seconds away from bawling her eyes out.

"Lemme get your trunk. We'll store it in Percy's room for now." He communicated silently with her and she communicated back with soft facial expressions and slight movements of her head.

Ron pointed his wand at the trunk and levitated it in front of him. He could have banished it to Percy's old room but he wasn't going to take a chance of mucking it up, not while Hermione was about break.

They made it to Percy's room and Ron slid it to the far wall. Ron turned and Hermione had collapsed onto Percy's bed - which had been made for years now. Molly still held out hope that Percy would see the error of his ways and come home. Ron knew better.

Instead, Ron pulled his wand and locked the door and silenced the room. He took a tentative step, followed by another, and sat down on the bed next to Hermione.

She was holding onto her body for dear life, shuddering like her grip was the only thing keeping her sanity enacts.

"What happened, Hermione?"

"I - " She put her head in her hands and wailed like a wounded animal. Ron pulled her onto his lap, ignoring everything his body was telling him, and focusing on the witch in front of him.

His shirt was soaked immediately but he didn't care. His best friend - and more, if he could apply what he'd learned since he returned home - needed him desperately.

Minutes passed and Hermione finally pulled away from his shirt and rubbed her eyes raw. The silence was punctuated with constant sniffs and the occasional cough.

"Please tell me Death Eaters didn't come calling?"

"No, it’s not that." She shuddered again and shifted positions, pulling her knees up to her chest and wrapping her arms around her knees.

"I... I sent them away, to Australia."

"For them to be safe, right? You told them everything and they agreed it was for the best." He saw her look away from him.

"You did tell them, right?"

She shook her head. "I've not been completely honest with them for quite some time. Even fifth year, when I got hurt, I begged McGonagall not to tell them that I nearly died. She promised to keep that, provided I told them in a letter once I was better. I might not have told them the entire truth."

Ron slowly cottoned on. "So this past year, with Dumbledore dying and us not going back?"

Hermione kept silent.

"Look, I promise to listen."

Moments passed. "I... I modified their memories and instructed them that the trip of a lifetime was going to Australia, right then, and staying a year. I spent a month setting up everything I could, from working with a dental clinic on the Gold Coast, to getting them a rental home, and other things."

"You did a memory charm on them to send them away? Hermione!"

"I couldn’t' risk the death eaters catching them and betraying us - even accidentally. I didn't pull a Lockhart but the charms I used will take some powerful magic to counteract and remove them. They will be as safe as I could make them."

"Who else knows?"

"Just you. I don't even want to tell Harry or your parents."

"Because you think they will turn you in for performing illegal magic?"

"The spells are legal, but barely. How I used them on them is the illegal part. If I get caught, it's three months in Azkaban. If your father found out, he's obligated to report it."

"So if Mum found out she'd tell Dad and you're buggered."

Hermione shrunk down into herself further. "It was either that or risking their lives staying. I couldn't do this, potentially risking my life, and them losing their daughter - or losing their own lives or sanity over something they can't comprehend." She turned and her eyes were bloodshot and her cheeks hollow. "At least I know now that they are safely on their way to Brisbane before going to their destination. I can breathe that they are out of England and out of the reach of Vold -

"Don't say his name, please. It gives me the collywobbles for some reason."

"Fine. You-Know-Who's followers. And if something does happen to me now that at least they can be reasonably happy there."

"Why didn't they insist you go with them?"

"I wouldn't let them. I modified their memories to the fact that they didn't have a daughter. to them, she died in infancy of crib death."

"You didn't!"

"I did. And I will hate myself every single day the rest of my life for what I've done to them."

"You had to!"

"Ron," She turned to him while shuddering, "it's like what Harry goes through. It's a form of violation and I did that intentionally to my own parents, to shield them from harm and to protect them."

Ron saw her trying to be strong and hold on. Bugger that.

"Come here, you."

Hermione willingly crawled into his lap again and he gently rocked her. His shirt grew wet again with her silent weeping.

"You did the right thing, you know."

"Maybe."

"You did. If Mum and Dad weren't who they are, I'd do the same thing and not hesitate a moment."

Ron leaned over to kiss her on top of her head. Hermione looked up at the same time and their lips met.

Ron pulled back first, blushing so hard his toes were probably bright red. Hermione did too.

"I - um - well - "

"Thank you," she whispered. "You're who I think I needed." She leaned back into his chest and Ron rocked her gently, wondering what the bloody hell just happened and how in the world Hermione thanked him for kissing her, even if it was completely accidental and utterly mental.

He leaned down and kissed the top of her head.

"I'm not going anywhere. And I promise we won't tell Mum and Dad - or Harry either. He'll go spare when he does find out but for now, we'll keep it between us."

#Dragon's fic #hpfic #romione #ron weasley #hermione granger #Maybe AU #Only cause Harry wasn't present #and he's an unreliable narrator #T rated #only 'cause of one situation #Queue up for the Dragon

[entrenous88]

Rules: it’s time to love yourselves! choose your 5 favorite works you’ve created this year (fics, art, edits, etc!) and link them below to reflect on the amazing things you’ve brought into the world in 2017. tag as many writers/artists/etc as you want (fan or original!) so we can spread the love and link each other to awesome works.

Tagged by @acommonanomaly​ and also by @letmetellyouaboutmyfeels -- thank you both!

Oh man, I had this freeze-up moment when thought, “But did I post five fics this past year?”  Good news: I DID!  Also, you can really see when I began taking my fiction class and started focusing almost entirely on my original writing, whoops.  jsyk, I have been continuing to write fic, but wrapping up/polishing/posting hasn’t been happening lately. 

ANYWAY, ON TO THE LIST.  I actually really like all of the stories that I put up on AO3, but for the sake of the meme, consider this ordering indicative of how pleased I am with them (#1 being tops, etc.):

1.  Doubt You More (Pinto, Star Trek RPF, Explicit), 25,462 words. 

Maybe Zach has got Chris over a barrel where Chris's debt is concerned.  But sooner or later, Zach will have to see that he can't make Chris do every little thing that he wants.   The second story in the Fiction Romance series, featuring mob boss Zach and stressed-out high-achieving undergrad and reluctant rent boy Chris.

Mafia AU/Rent Boy AU!  This is the second story in my Fiction Romance series.  Doubt You More really let me tease out the dynamic between Chris and Zach and get further into Chris’s head, which is the kind of thing I love.  At times I think I should have turned FR into an original novel; I’ve probably let it take up too much of my mental landscape and spent too much time tweaking references and weaving in narrative threads.  But I’ve had really lovely interactions because of this story and so that part of the process has been a pleasure.  Heed the warnings and tags on this one if you haven’t read it and you decide to give it a look-see. 

2.  Take a Bite of My Heart Tonight (McKirk, Star Trek AOS, Teen), 26,598 words. 

Jim Kirk and Leonard McCoy get off on the wrong foot as soon as they meet.  So if Jim wants another shot with that gorgeous but grumpy veterinarian, he had better get his hands on some pets who need vet appointments, right?

Veterinarian AU!   I had a great time writing this one; I really like working in a variety of pairings in a given fandom, but for a variety of reasons I don’t branch out much in Star Trek.  So it was a ton of fun to explore McKirk, even if it was in an AU guise, and I so loved exploring Jim’s friendships with Gaila and Uhura. And Take a Bite of My Heart Tonight is one of those stories where I really sold myself on the pairing as I wrote the story; it’s always fun to fall in love with the whole concept of the two characters together as they’re falling for each other in the narrative.

3.  Susceptible (Spirk, Star Trek AOS, Teen), 8,352 words 

Spock drew himself up, clasping his hands behind his back.   "Captain Kirk, permit me to state the facts.  Your eyes have become glassy, you are not fully attuned to your surroundings, and, as I can attest because we recently touched hands, your palms have begun to perspire."  "Yikes," Jim muttered, running his fingers through his hair.  "You sure know how to make a guy feel good, Spock."

OR, Spock has a science conference to attend, Jim is a crabby patient who's apt to wander off if he's not watched like a hawk, and there's always an alien equivalent to ginger ale.   With bonus head rubs and accidental feelings!

Sick fic!  I can’t help it, frands; I love reading and writing sick fic, and for some reason Jim and Spock lend themselves so well to the trope in my imaginings.  This story is perhaps a little extended for a fluff scenario, but what the hell -- it gave me lots of chances to write feverish and goofy Jim and helplessly devoted Spock!

4.  Mix It Up (Pinto, Star Trek RPF, Mature), 5,881 words 

Whenever Zach tries to focus on the good stuff and remember this is what Chris wants, he can't ignore the whisper inside his mind that tells him, it's what he wants for now.

Angst!  Established Relationship in Crisis!   Man, I spent a TON of time thinking about this and weaving the story together just so; I think it was fairly successful as a carefully crafted narrative, and so that part of writing the story was very positive for me.  I think I got a little bit let down after posting this one though?  It sort of stalled me on Pinto, even though I felt happy with the story.  Maybe it was the subject matter, but I don’t think readers dug the scenario as much as I did.  Or maybe my fic got a bit lost in the rush of works all shared during Pinto de Mayo -- which, having a pile of fics posted was absolutely the whole point of everyone celebrating a fandom milestone together, of course!  But with a small fandom, maybe it overloaded readers and writers so that we didn’t have the energy to give all the individual works attention?  Hard to say. and I don’t totally know how other writers/readers felt about it at the time.  At any rate, I enjoyed creating little parallel moments and connecting images and writing a different sort of take on Zach and Chris, so it’s definitely a story I’m proud of overall. 

5.  Pair Up (Pinto, Star Trek RPF), Teen, 1,960 words 

If Zach had spotted this version of Chris P. at the mall back home?   He'd have trailed him down the concourse a couple of shops behind, trying to look absorbed in his phone and his smoothie while the whole time willing that super-hot guy to turn around and notice him once, just once.

Summer Camp AU!  This was part of a spate of Pinto prompt fills, but it was the only one that was long enough to qualify as “fic” rather than ficlet, so I tossed it up on AO3.  If I had a ton more time, I may have tried to spin the story out into a longer fic.  For a variety of reasons it’s going to remain a stand-alone, though I’d be happy to talk headcanons about it at some point (summer camp setting + teen Pinto =  my heart skipping a beat).

I’m going to tag @semperama, @rabidchild67, @elisa-pie, @pensive-refrain, @onedamnminuteadmiral, @plaidshirtjimkirk, @gracerene09, and absolutely any other fan creators who want to do this thing!  Tag me if you do it so I can see!

#five favorite works meme #writing meme replies #thanks again for tagging! #I love to talk about my fics

[faeriexqueen]

Yuulma: 3, 22, 36, 37, 40. Any is fine!

#yeragei #THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR THESE AND I AM SO SORRY IT TOOK FOREVER #god bless I have itched to write a ballet AU #and suckmyinnuendo is freakin amazing please go look at their art if you haven't #suckmyinnuendo #ballet au #dgm au #d gray man au #yulma #yuulma #alma karma #yuu kanda #alma #kanda #fanfic #ficlet #i love these prompts bless you all for sending them #ballet #dance au #d. grayman #d. gray-man #also i might continue this one if people want me to