#ALSO in all the fics I read they said he fuck up with technology but somehow the trackers works

[nelkcats]

The Banshee, a JL mystery

A foreign case was being discussed by the Justice League, in general it was not bad, just rare.

It began a couple of months ago, a tourist had come to Star City, but he did not visit the city, he did not even register, he just pop out of nowhere, went to the cemetery, and apparently the cameras recorded him placing flowers in all the tombs and talking with the air or with some of the people engraved in the stones, they were not sure of it.

The strange thing was that the cameras around him were always corrupted, they needed the JLD to even stabilize the image, and ¿was that not worrying? They assumed that something supernatural was following him, the boy looked strictly human, but even the trackers that they tried to put were damaged around him.

Unfortunate for the entire league, although they had the guy features, the image was not clear enough for facial recognition.

The corrupted sound of the camaras sounded like a wail, or a cry, Constantine commented it remembered him to a banshee, so they started to call him "The Banshee" even if Zatanna told them Banshee were strictly women, it stayed.

The wave of visits continued, the boy went through Central City, Metropolis, Washington, Gotham, but it was later where something relevant happened again.

Jason was visiting his own grave when he noticed the boy, he tells, he cared because the young man seemed disconsolate looking at the graves, even yearning if that had some sense.

"Did you know him?" It may be the case of B, but it still had him intrigued. Also, the guy was looking at his grave, he felt like he have the right to ask.

"No, but you could say I already did" the boy sighed, stroking the stone of the tomb "I would also like it-..." Danny stopped, he should not be telling his problems to the owner of the tomb "Ah, no matter, it's good to know he was loved"

Jelousy, the reason why Danny visited the cemeteries was to calm himself, surrounded by what he wants but can not occur, to cry as no one cried for him, Clockwork always said that a part of him died at the moment nobody pay attention to his death, and ¿wasn't that funny?

"¿How do you know?" If someone asked Jason, he would affirm that it was uncomfortable to talk about himself as if he was still dead, but he couldn't do anything about it now.

"Well, he's buried and has a proper resting place, they keep bringing him flowers even though the inside of his grave is empty, you can see the recently removed earth; Many of the dead don't have that luxury, their bodies left somewhere, the missing people were never given a proper burial, I don't know man, ghosts can't build their own graves ¿you know?" He was probably ranting and he knew it, but Danny was tired, he wanted that too, and it was such a stupid rule not to be able to give himself his own resting place, but he wasn't going to burden Jazz, Sam, or Tucker with giving him a funeral.

It was the reason he did this, why he visited cemeteries, laid flowers and talked to the resident ghosts, he wanted to know the feeling, wanted to know what he had lost, wanted to be mourned too.

"Anyway, nice to meet you Nosaj Ddot, be a little grateful for what you have, ¿okay? I know some who would kill for it" he smiled ruefully, starting to pick up his basket of flowers, he had already made his rounds anyway. It was probably time to go back to Amity Park.

"¿Nosaj? What are you talking about-" but the boy was already gone, disappeared into thin air, his communications re-established at the same moment that he noticed his damaged tracker right next to the grave, a short circuit.

"The banshee ¿uh?, he sure is an interesting guy, maybe the League is really onto something this time."

#danny phantom #dp x dc #justice league #justice league dark #Danny is jealous #he cant help it #he just want a grave to call it his own #The JL is freaking out for nothing #Tired Danny Fenton #Graves are love language for ghost #if your family don't give you one is like saying they don't love you #danny fenton #dc x dp #I like the hc of Danny feeling incomplete until someone give him his own grave #ALSO in all the fics I read they said he fuck up with technology but somehow the trackers works #Why? just destroy the trackers too #That will freak Batman even more #Yeah Danny want a funeral #He also know that was Jason grave #Thats why he called him Nosaj Ddot #He wanted Jason to connect the dots #Danny just want someone to love him #Not even in a romantic way #Just someone who remembers and care

[winterarmyy]

And You're Mine

How grumpy chubby alpha!bucky finally found his omega

Summary: In which Bucky, the big, scary, 'undesired alpha' was tricked into a blind date where he met his precious little omega.

Note: Read the prequel here 《 Must Be Fate 》

Words: 4.7k++

Pairing: chubby alpha!bucky x omega!female!reader

Warnings: implied 18+ content, implied smut, a/b/o dynamics, self-deprication, body shaming, tiny bit of angst, fluffiness, bucky has a size kink (if you squint), horny-ass bucky has lots of dirty thoughts, vivian being a digusting bitch, protective y/n, even more protective bucky and overall wholesome.

P/S: Ahhhhhhhhh!!! My first omega-verse fic; i have no clue what I'm doing. This is mostly self-indulgent but if you come across this and somehow interested to read it then I hope you enjoy!

Read my other works here: Masterlist

"Are you fucking with me right now?" Bucky momentarily shuts his eyes, slightly titled his chin upwards, as if that'll help the boiling blood within his nerves to cool down.

Steve had expected that his best friend would be a little bit annoyed with his decision to trick him into agreeing to this suprise date but he didn't expect him to get this pissed, "Come on now, Buck. I promise you're gonna love this one."

"You said the same shit everytime!" Bucky almost roared in the middle of the crowded carnival, but he held back with a muted growl.

Ever since he lost his left arm on a rescue mission during his time in the Special Forces Unit, the society had deemed him to be "lesser than" despite the alpha title he was born into.

You would've thought that serving your country for about 6 years of your early 20's would be enough of a reason to make up for the so called "lacking", but no.

Apparently, his heroic contributions, his Sargent rank, and his literal blood, sweat and tears meant nothing when he returned home as an amputee.

Even if he came back with the medal of honor, pinned on the fabric of his uniform, right on his prideful chest; they didn't care. A defected alpha is as good as dead, especially in this modern, competitive society where its a lot more difficult to find a mate.

At first Bucky was optimistic, he didn't let them get to him.

He believed that his mate is out there somewhere, waiting for him, as he is for her.

After Stark Technologies offered him to join their research for under the Prosthetics and Orthotics Division, Bucky was lucky to fully revived his left arm in a form a vibranium prosthetic.

Even then, as time passed, the venomous whispers eventually managed to seep through; like any other poison, it is lethal to his mind.

And Bucky stopped trying to be an alpha. His pride was maimed and he let himself wallow in self hatred; letting his insecurity consume him. Eventually quite literally ate his pain away.

They said that he was rubbing salt to his own wound as now he was not just an amputated alpha, he is also a fat one at that.

With his alpha reputation being at its worst, his chances of finding a mate also went down hill.

"This one's gonna be different. Trust me." Steve claimed.

Bucky doesn't know why Steve seemed really convinced. But he wasn't having any of that, he rolled his eyes into a glare, "And how's that?"

Steve's blue eyes sparked as optimism lit on his face, "Well, first of all, she's one of Peggy's closest friends and.."

"Oh great, now you involve your omega into this." Bucky let out an unfiltered scoff before sarcastically exclaimed, "Just fantastic."

Steve growled at the mention of his mate, "Watch it, Bucky." He warned.

Bucky's drilling glare remained the same as Steve's alpha challenged his.

It's not that Bucky is against the idea of Peggy or any other omega helping him in any way. But, Steve had been annoyingly persistent with these set ups and he was sick of it. Perhaps he was a bit petty bringing Peggy into the conversation but he really was just tired of this.

Steve's scowl gradually soften before he continued his reasons, "...And, your date is actually the one requesting for a set up with you."

And that definitely caught Bucky's attention. Steve could see it, especially when Bucky's ears perked up a little and his ever-lasting frown loosen at the tiniest amount.

Steve smirked triumphantly, "Specifically you."

For moment, there was a hesitation on Bucky's side; and there were only the chaotic atmosphere around them. From the screaming of the riders on the roller coater to the giggles of children at the nearby courasell.

Steve really thought he managed to lure Bucky but he was caught by surprise when Bucky replied, "You'd think I'd fall for that crappy excuse of a lie? No. I'm leaving." Bucky turned on his heels.

"I'm not lying." Steve stopped him as he held on his arm, "Hey, you're gonna break her heart."

"Break her heart? How about mine? Just how many more heart breaks do I have to endure? How much more disappointment do I have to go through?"

Bucky gathered his palms into fists as he recalled all the mean, insulting words his past lovers had thrown at him and all those time he wasted on waiting for his dates to show up.

Just before Bucky planning to lash out, a voice interupted his thoughts "Hey, sorry for being late." Peggy came just in time.

Though it was just her; no sign of his so called date around.

An unexpected sting spreads within Bucky's chest. Of course she would stood him up too. Why was he surprised?

Steve pulled his omega into a tight hug, "Hey, baby. Where's y/n?" He asked.

"She's went to the bathroom." Peggy replied before taking a peep towards Bucky, "She got really nervous when she saw you. She might take some time to calm down. She thought its better if you know." Peggy explained.

On one side, Bucky can feel that sliver of hope creeping in. He look down to where he was supposed to see his feet, but unable to see them as now they're blocked by the round of his soft tummy. That's when the dark thoughts clouded his mind.

Was she just feeling nervous or was she regretting her decision?

After a short back and forth explanation, Peggy swept Steve away and had left Bucky on his own. She claimed that the line to the haunted house will double if they wait any longer. But, Bucky knew that they just wanted to leave him and his date alone.

Like every other date before, Bucky was emotions was all over the place; nervous, scared, intrigued, excited but what's different tonight was he also felt angry and annoyed. Which was not a good thing to feel on a date.

So he went to a Whac-A-Mole machine near the spot where he was supposed to wait for his date. He had to hit something. He just had to. He need to let his anger out one way or another.

His gloved hand gripped tightly on the wooden handle as he waited for the next round. Smack after smack, next was harsher than before, he did felt better. But even if the fire was out, the ashes were still burning.

As he was fixated on whacking the shit out of the moles, a particular scent invaded his nostrils. A sweet-smelling scent; something between a mix of cotton candy and butterscotch-caramel nuances.

It should be normal to smell this at a place such as a carnival; but the food stalls were all the way on the other end of the venue and this scent was too strong, too potent, to be that far away from him.

Bucky just had to stop as he relished the pleasant smell; it was truly a sweet and warm gourmand scent that ushered him in and out between nostalgic memories and pure raging lust.

That was when he heard a voice coming from his back, "You must've been really bored waiting that you started without me." She sounded amused when she let out a quiet laugh.

Even before Bucky had the chance to turn around he knew he was fucked; she just had to have the most captivating scent he had ever smell, and the most beautiful-sounded laughter he had ever heard.

What a foul torment to do to an alpha.

When Bucky turned around, he would've missed her if he wasn't paying enough attention on the lower area of his view.

And there she stood, in all her glory of ethereal beauty; small and sweet-looking in an off-shoulder sundress that does nothing but tempt Bucky to leave his mark all over her exposed skin. A simple necklace adorned with a gleaming stone that shines much like her eyes. A shy smile that may have just triggered some dark thoughts in Bucky's mind on corrupting the poor little thing.

"James, right? I'm y/n." she introduced herself but when Bucky's gaze fell on her rosy lips, all he could think was how bad he wanted to bite and suck on them just see if it'll get redder than they already were.

He was too focused entertaining on his inner beast's thoughts that he just stood there in silence, frowning intensely at the sweet little omega in front of him.

Y/N took his unresponsiveness as a sign of anger, so quickly apologised for her tardiness, "Sorry for making you wait so long. When we..i mean I. When I saw you, the nerves started kicking in." At least she tried to, despite stuttering in the between her words.

Fuck, she's such a pretty doll but above all, Bucky just wanted to protect her from the world, provide for her with anything she deserves, treat her like an absolute queen, worship every inch of her being like his own personal goddess and jesus fuck these urges came in stronger than he ever experienced.

With the lights coming from behind, Bucky's face was in the shadows and Y/N misterinterpret his spell-bound, diluted eyes to something else.

Y/N's brows creased in hesitation as she wonders if Bucky was still mad, "Uhh... oh shit" then her eyes widen in a false realization, "Is the something on my face?" She frantically searched for her phone in her bag.

And fuck does that big doe eyes of hers just casually seduce Bucky to think of how she would look when she's taking his cock in her mouth. She'd be so fucking pretty.

She knew she should've used her phone's camera to re-apply her lipstick instead of the cracked mirror at the carnival's bathroom, "The mirror here is f--"

Yes, Bucky would want to breed her so good that she would always be full with his pups.

She's undeniably... "Perfect." Bucky finally spoke after what seemingly feels like forever.

His voice was laced with a hint of territorial grunt that Y/N was not able to catch what he said, "Hmm?" She titled her head to the side, eyes pleading for him to repeat.

It took Bucky all of his mental strength to hold back his alpha urges when he repeats, "You're perfect, doll. Just absolutely perfect." A cheshire smile decorated his handsome face.

Did he meant to say she look perfect? Well, yes but no. He clearly meant she was perfect, her whole being. But Y/N took it as the prior, "Thank you." She smiled sweetly as her cheeks warmed.

Bucky definitely noticed the slight indent of her left dimple. And he wondered how would it felt against his fingers. "Adorable." He thought as his smile grew wider.

Y/N had been waiting for this moment, to finally had a chance to have this man even for a day, especially considering she had the biggest crush on this stranger that helped her a year ago.

One time she might just had met her potential mate was that one time she had to be dosed with shit tons of scent blockers. And that might just be reason why Bucky may not remember her but that's fine. She had one more chance with him tonight.

After that encounter, his scent, his voice, his presence lingered in her mind longer than she anticipated. At least until the moment Peggy showed a photo her alpha that had Bucky in it.

She grew hopeful and had been pestering her to set up somehow set up date with him.

When the time finally comes, she couldn't help but to fell into panic, "Did I introduce myself? I'm y/n" she completely forgot that she already did that.

Bucky let out the most adorable laugh before he reminded her, "You very well did, sugar." His hand move so naturally to tuck the strand of her hair behind her ear as she fell into utter embrassement.

"I'm Bucky." He finally introduced himself.

"Bucky?" Y/N outwardly questioned. She thought his name was James, as Peggy said it was.

He hummed softly as he nodded, "The name's James Bucky Barnes." He explained. "Just call me Bucky, yeah sugar?" He duck his head to peek on her redden face, "...cause I can't guarantee my behaviour around you if you keep calling me James." He quirked his eyebrow as his teasing grin spreads.

Oh, he was definitely and unashamedly insinuated something quite unholy there.

Bucky straighten on his back as he offered his arms, "Shall we, then? I would love to know more about you, sweet 'mega."

No matter how infatuated Bucky was with this lovely little omega clinging to his arm; a part of him was also on a defensive mode.

His insecurities gets the best of him when he believe that all of this was just an act, a cruel prank that fate has set up for him or maybe he was just having a ridiculous dream, knowing how pitiful his reality was.

Despite his gentle smile and longing gaze that's lingering on Y/N who was having the best time of her life as her bright eyes sparked at the vibrant and colorful firework show, deep down, he couldn't help to think that sooner or later, all of this will end like it always does.

Another heart break he needed to endure.

But, she was truly an angel. She was everything he could ever hoped for, everything that he could ever long for.

He can't belive that she would spend even a second of her time with a defected, fat, angry looking alpha such as himself.

Maybe this won't be just another heart break.

Maybe this would be the cause for him to actually break beyond repairable.

And she would be the catalyst.

"Thank you for today, Bucky. I truly enjoy my time with you." She confessed with a sincere appreciation and admiration towards him. She shyly broke their eye contact as her finger fiddled with soft fur of the teddy bear that Bucky won for her.

It reminds her of him so much that she insisted that he need to win it for her.

So he did.

His alpha couldn't help to puff with pride. "Omega's happy because of us." But his lips remain shut with a loving smile curved on it.

The dimple on her cheek appeared again and this time he didn't stop his hand from reaching out. Though they were gloved, he still let himself feeling the pleasure of grazing his fingers along her cheek, through her dimple and stopped underneath her chin.

Bucky pulled her closer as he dipped down to her level. Warmth sparked in Y/N's chest, as if the fireworks show magically transferred within her instead, "Buck--"

"Bucky?" A women's voice interupted their moment. "Bucky is that you?" She called again and her familiarity had caught both Y/N and Bucky's attention.

"Oh my god! It is you!" her ecstatic tone might have fool Y/N for a second there.

Maybe she's a close friend of Bucky, but when she saw the colors from his face drained quite drastically, she might need to hold on to that thought.

"Vivian." Bucky's tone changed into something Y/N couldn't put her finger on. Sorrow? Anger? Regret? She wasn't sure but it was not a positive response.

The claimed omega sauntered closer and peered towards Y/N with a glint of judgment in her eyes, "And I see you managed to trick another one, huh?"

That triggered a scarring spot within Bucky.

He could still remember the way she accused him of luring and tricking omega to be with him. Apparently, she couldn't stand being him during intimate time especially during his ruts.

And one particular moment when his rut was at its peak and she couldn't stop herself to turn into an unforgiving monster.

"I can't believe I fell for your charms. Then now I need to deal with this." Vivian looked away, unable to look at her boyfriend, hot and bothered, bare and in pain.

Bucky pants and groan as Vivian continued to insult him from the corner of him room, "Look at you, Bucky! You look fucking pathetic!" She yelled as she angrily pointed her hands towards him.

He turn to his side facing her, and curled his body to manage the raging pain of wanting to stick his cock into something. Vivian was to busy ranting that she couldn't see the fire in Bucky's grilling frown.

"You can't expect me to touch you now especially with your big fucking belly spilling out like that. God, you're sweating like damn dog and you fucking reek!" Her eyes narrowed and her nose wrinkled in disgust before she continued, "And don't get me started with that wretched arm of yours."

That's it. Bucky was not having any of it anymore. He was seconds away from slamming Vivian's face to the wall as his primal alpha needs to aggress were also heighten in his rut.

"Then, get the fuck out of my house, you useless annoying bitch." Bucky growled through his pain.

Vivian was not able to catch a breath as her mouth hang open in shock. Bucky never been that harsh with her but honestly it was about time he did.

"Don't even think of coming back." He warned as she closed the doors behind her.

Unknowingly leaving Bucky's heart bruised and battered.

That was almost a year ago. Bucky gave her the benefit of a doubt as he thought maybe she would change once she find her the love life but apparently she is as vicious as ever.

The tall blonde continue to linger as she asked, "Did you know? About that arm of his?"

Y/N didn't know what she was talking about but she didn't want to entertain this woman, especially when Bucky was clearly uncomfortable with her presence.

Though her silence only lead Vivian to speculate, "Aww, you poor thing, you don't know, do you?" Her mockery was getting worst, "It's fake, honey. He lost his arm many years ago." She flicked Bucky's left arm with long bird-like nails; or claws, that seemed more accurate.

Bucky caught the way Y/N's eyes briefly glanced at his covered arms then his gloved hand. What was she thinking then? Does she think that he was defected? That he is a damaged goods?

He couldn't help to let his mind wonder to the worst case scenarios and to make the unpleasant situation even worse Vivian slightly tugged Bucky's jacket to the side.

Revealing his round and plushy belly, "And fuck did you get bigger?" She sneered as the ruthless insult continue to spill.

"Shut up." Y/N's broken silence caught them off guard.

Vivian scoffed, "What?"

Y/N piercing gaze landed on Vivian's hand still tugging Bucky's jacket. She harshly grabbed her on the wrist, didn't care whether if her nails would dug into the woman's skin.

"I said..." The air felt heavier, only for Y/N to shove more force to it when her voice dropped a few octaves down, "Shut the fuck up before I tear your throat apart."

How dare she insult her alpha, especially when Y/N was right there with him.

"Are sure you want to do that?" Vivian's alpha suddenly stepped in. Even though he clearly was not interested in the matter a few seconds ago.

Y/N took a step forward, "Try me." She dared him.

"I might as well fuck your balls up while I'm at that, huh? Maybe you'll learn a thing or two about subduing your insolent omega."

Oh, she meant what she said; its especially clear when the growling started to peak a presence through her voice.

The taller was bright red, with embrassment and anger, "You're talking to an alpha. Know your place 'mega!" He forced his alpha command on her.

She fought back as much as she could but of course she was forced to submit. When the alpha tried to reach for her, that's when Bucky blocked his way.

Bucky's demeanour completely changed into something different. His meek presence vanished and now turned into a pure and primal rage. Good thing was he contained it quite well so he won't cause a scene but his gaze degrades the one before him.

Though the alpha was slightly taller but Bucky was certainly bigger and being a veteran, of course he'd be stronger. One wrong move, he might get a chance to meet the grim reaper sooner than he'd expect.

It felt as if Bucky was towering over the alpha, as he challenged him to come a step further, "Touch her and you're dead." Bucky let out a deep, murderous growl as he threatened.

The alpha was about to protest but was forced into a frozen state as he look into Bucky's sapphire eyes; there was something ominous about it, something dark and dangerous.

Being overwhelmed by Bucky's strong scent of rage, Vivian quickly pulled her alpha away, "Let's just go... They're not worth it." She coaxed, and the alpha agreed.

Before they leave, she managed to slip a last comment, as she wishes luck to Bucky, "Goodluck keeping this one." She thought she was being sleek when she whispered so quietly but Y/N heard that just fine.

When Y/N snapped out of the alpha command, she grunted, "I'm gonna kill her." What a menancing look in those coffee-stained eyes of hers.

Bucky only softened to her threatening aggressions, "No, you're not " he rubbed his hand to the sides of her arms, trying to calm her down.

Which failed miserably when she replied, "Watch me." She spun around, eyes searching in the crowd, trying to spot a glimpse of the rude couple.

"Hey hey, omega." Bucky quickly catch her before she could walk further, pulling her back to his chest, both of his arms securing her waist, "Calm down. Shhh shhh." Bucky let out a calming rumble from within his chest, coaxing her softly,  "Killing is not necessary, sugar."

Despite her tensed body were starting to relax, her mind certainly wasn't, "And why the hell not?" Her small hands gripped onto the fabric of Bucky's jacket on his arms.

"No one deserved to be treated like that." She whispered softly as Bucky continued to kiss the top of her head, mumbling quiet 'I know, doll. I know' 

"You don't deserve to be treated like that, Bucky." Her voice shivered despite her efforts to conceal them.

Bucky loosen his grip and turned her to face him. His loving gaze took in every single one of Y/N's sweet features; from her teary eyes to her redden nose and pouty lips.

He wanted to kiss each of them, in hopes of making her feel better. But he doesn't want to take any chances as he had already made a bold move to hug her from behind and kiss her head prior.

Bucky looked down at his dark midnight glove, and Y/N took his lead. Before she could say anything, Bucky started pulling each one off. Revealing his calloused right hand and a shiny black and gold prosthetic on the other.

He can't see her reaction to his vibranium arm, but he imagined the worst. He took in a shaky breath before he spoke, "Alpha is supposed to be perfect. They supposed to be capable. So that they can provide and protect their omega."

He paused as Y/N wrapped took both of his hand in hers but then continued regardless, "And I am far from being perfect or ideal. I lost a limb and gained pounds in return. I can't hide that fact."

"But I swear to god y/n, I never intent on tricking you or using you, in any way." In the end, Vivian's gaslighting effect of Bucky was still stronger as ever.

Why couldn't he see that there was nothing less about him.

"It's pretty." Y/N titled his left hand back and forth, watching the glow on the gold lines reflect the lights of the carnival; each move create random sparkling dots on its smooth surface, it looks like stars.

Bucky didn't understand at first until she looked up at him, with eyes gleaming with mixture of intrigued and infatuation, "It's so pretty, and Bucky..." She reached her hand to his face, gently rubbing her thumb on his stubble jaw, "You're beautiful. All of you." She confessed.

She carefully pulled her hand away from his cheek, and grabbed his left hand with both of hers, allowing it draw near to her lips before she placed a loving kiss on it, "This arm," Then her hands caressed the softness of his tummy, "this body," before they stopped at his chest where his beating heart resides, "this heart. Every single part of you is beyond beauty itself."

Bucky frowned as he find it hard to believe and Y/N knew that, "I mean it, Bucky."

A short chuckle left her lips as a thought run through her mind, "God, you'd be running scared, if you know half of the things I would love to do to you."

Bucky bit back a smile as he let his teeth sink into his bottom lip.

Y/N continued as she held onto his hands, "But, above all Bucky, you are the sweetest man I've met." There was nothing more sincere than her words, "Yeah I know we just met and what not, but if I can see that just in one night, imagine if I get to know more of you tomorrow or the next day and next week?"

Her grip on him grew stronger as she reminded him, "Don't let an impudent omega or anyone even, convice you otherwise."

"Because Bucky, you are as lovable as a person can be." She placed his palm on either side of her cheeks, purring as the sensation on skin felt so right, "And I am absolutely honoured and proud to be standing here with an alpha like you." She smiled like she was the happiest omega on earth.

And Bucky could not control the overwhelming joy within his thundering chest as it bursts with endless fluttering butterflies. He had never felt such comfort, such reassurance in his life, especially after returning home from the army.

Flickers igniting as he leaned in closer and closer until their lips touched, tentively for the first time. The smell of her cotton candy and caramel, so sweet and so soft, it was almost dizzying, but he was more than thrilled to let it consume him. 

Y/N briefly parted her lips to let him in and leaned into the kiss, wanting more of the delicious sensation of his lips, his tongue on hers. Bucky wanted nothing more than devour her, memorizing of every single moan that fell into his mouth.

It felt so right; it was exactly was his soul had been yearning for and more.

Breaking the kiss was the reminder to both of them they need air to breath, and Bucky rested his forehead on hers as he took in everything that just happened.

While Y/N found herself completely drunk to the feeling of love within her body and soul, she whispered dearly as she scatters most tender kisses all over Bucky's face, "You're so pretty. So perfect. So... mine."

And that caught Bucky in another spiral of confusion; she could see it in face especially with his sapphire eyes being as wide as they were.

She giggled amusingly before she proposed, "Will you be mine, James Bucky Barnes?"

God, he was supposed to be the alpha here. But what can he say, his omega is quite a special one.

He breathed a relief sigh, "Yes." Leaned in for a quick taste of her lips before asking his a question of his own, "And you're mine?"

Her nose crunched as she booped its tip on his, "Always." She replied. Bucky could feel her smile against his lips and so does she.

Unbeknownst to the happy couple, a few feet away from them was Peggy who was busy clicking her camera away, trying to get the best shot she could out of the couple while Steve was trying hard to hold back his proud sniffles as he stood guard near his omega.

End.

Read my other works here: Masterlist

A/N: Sooooooo what you think? Feel free to give feedback I love reading your thoughts!

#winterarmyyfics #and you're mine au #bucky x reader #bucky x you #bucky barnes au #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x you #chubby!bucky #grumpy!bucky #alpha!bucky #alpha!bucky x omega!reader #alpha!bucky x reader #bucky fluff

[burnednotburied]

Chapter 1: A New Prophet

AO3 Link

Pairing: Abby Anderson x fem!reader

Fic Synopsis: Abby goes looking for Owen and ends up on the wrong end of your knife.

Tags/CWs: angst; slow burn; enemies to friends to lovers; animosity between WLF and Seraphites; blood/injury; cutting (not to self, but still); religious/cult-like ideas

Note: So the idea for this started as a prequel to my first fic (linked here), but ended up turning into much more. It basically follows the plot of Abby’s Seattle Day 1, diverging from canon where necessary and using dialogue from the game wherever possible. I split this part into two chapters because it’s so long.

This is a lot of build-up (important to the story and hopefully enjoyable to read), but I promise romance is on the horizon!

Also, the idea of deadnaming or misgendering Lev—even in the flashback part where they’re little kids and wouldn’t have known otherwise—physically pains me, so we’re going to pretend that reader has been calling Lev “L” as a nickname for forever.

Hope you enjoy! :)

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April 2038

Abby knew as much about the Scars as any of her fellow WLF members.

She knew that the group was founded by a woman who claimed to have a vision after the initial outbreak of Cordyceps brain infection in 2013, and then started spouting some bullshit about how it was all just a punishment for the sins of humanity. Said that the way to move forward was to go back to the basics. Live off the land. Reject technology and progress and pretty much all the good things in life.

She knew that they live on the island but they wouldn’t fucking stay on it, and that there was once a truce but they broke it, forcing the WLF into an endless war.

She knew that they fought hard and killed brutally, without hesitation or remorse.

She knew that, especially now that Joel was taken care of, killing Scars was pretty much her life’s purpose.

And she knew that the woman who started all of this became known as The Prophet. And that Isaac gave the order to have her killed ten years ago.

It was for that reason that Abby thought Isaac must have misspoken when he opened with:

“The Prophet is on the move.”

He was standing over the large map of Seattle in the center of the room, hands braced on the table, head down in thought.

She didn’t know what to make of that. Or how to respond. A quick glance over at Manny confirmed that she wasn’t the only one who was confused.

One of them had to ask. It seemed Isaac wasn’t going to fill in the gaps unprompted.

“The Prophet?” Manny questioned hesitantly. “Sir… respectfully… She’s been dead for years. Died before we even joined.”

“Don’t you think I know that? I’m the one who killed her.” Isaac was always calm and measured, almost always spoke quietly. But sometimes there was something beneath his words, just below the surface. Something seething and kind of terrifying, although Abby would never admit that out loud. This was one of those times.

“My unwilling informants downstairs,” he said, referring to the captive Scars being held and interrogated on the building’s lower levels, “tell me that they have a new Prophet. One their Elders have been quietly grooming for the role for the last decade, maybe even longer.”

“Okay so… What does that mean?” Abby asked, finding her voice. This was not the conversation she was expecting to have when she heard that Isaac wanted to talk to them. She had hoped to get some answers about what was going on with Owen.

“There’s a reason why they’ve been more resilient lately. Bolder. Even more bat-shit than normal.” He clenched his fists on the table. “This… Neo-Prophet,” Isaac almost laughed, the words coated in venom, “is about to fully step into her role. She is of age now. Or so I’ve been told.”

Abby stared at Isaac, still waiting for him to tell her what all of this meant. And what exactly he wanted her to do about it.

Manny jumped in. “What? So the Scars are… celebrating? You’re saying that’s why they’ve been ballsier? Killing more of us. Pushing further inland.”

Abby let out a short laugh. “If this is what it looks like when they’re happy, I don’t want to see what happens when they’re mad.”

Isaac remained stoic. “They have a renewed sense of purpose. When we killed their first Prophet, the Scars were enraged. They fought hard for vengeance. But people will only fight on behalf of a dead woman for so long. Passion for the cause wanes without something tangible to fight for. They need that higher authority to look to. They need someone to honor and defend. Their Elders were smart enough to know that their people need a unifying symbol. A living one.”

“Right, and you said that unifying symbol was on the move so…” Abby said. “Want us to hunt her down? See what they’ll do when we take away their new favorite toy?”

“No,” Isaac said quickly. “She’s not our target. We’ll get to her in due time.”

“Then wha—”

He cut her off. “The Prophet will be leaving the island soon, for the first time. In fact, it’s possible she’s already here. One of our captives tells me there will be some sort of initiation for her. I don’t know what that entails, but I’m sure it will involve attempting to kill some of ours. I’ll spend some more time with our friends downstairs and see if I can’t get any more information on that. We’ll try to prevent it if we can, but that’s not our main focus right now.” Abby opened her mouth to protest, only to be cut off once again. “With the Prophet away and many of their best soldiers traveling with her, the island will be more vulnerable than ever.”

Manny gestured to the map, reinserting himself into the conversation. “Sir, we’ve tried attacking their island and—”

“Not like this,” Isaac said. “Not with everyone. There’s a big storm a few days out. We’re going to use it to mask our approach. And you two are going to lead the first wave. Pick your squads. Start prepping.”

“And the Prophet?” Abby asked.

“One battle at a time, Abby.”

“Are we sure it would be a battle?” she pressed. “Isaac, she’s just one girl.”

“You would be foolish to underestimate this unknown enemy. Besides the likelihood that the best of the Scars will be at her side, I don’t doubt that she will be a very skilled fighter in her own right.” Abby huffed. Isaac continued, “And if she’s anything like her predecessor, the greatest threat is in her words. Not her actions. I watched some of my most loyal soldiers abandon our cause for theirs after just one conversation with the one who came before her.”

At this, Abby raised her eyebrows, ready to argue. A look from Manny shut her up.

“We’ve only got one shot at this… And this is bigger than any of us.” Isaac pushed off the table, walking over to Abby and placing a hand on her arm. “I need you, Abby.”

She shifted uncomfortably before relenting, giving a curt nod. “Yeah, I get it.”

“Good.” He pulled away, heading toward the door. “Look over the plans and go through your rosters.”

“I want Owen,” she said. Abby thought Isaac could at least give her that.

When he denied her permission to go look for Owen, Abby went anyway.

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March 2030 (8 Years Earlier)

The day of your scarring had been the first time Haven saw the sun in weeks.

Your mother said it was a sign. But your mother thought everything was a sign.

She told you that, no matter what, you were not to cry. That you, her only child, would not disgrace her by shedding tears during your ceremony.

You were to be brave. And strong.

The Prophet herself had ordained the act of scarring for all of her followers. A symbol of the innate imperfection of mankind. And so her people would never forget their own failings, even in the midst of their unending efforts towards perfection.

No one was meant to question the Prophet’s teachings, or the Elders who had taken on the responsibility of interpreting those teachings and carrying out Her will since Her death two years prior.

You could feel your mother’s breath against the back of your head as she huffed and decided that she was once again unsatisfied with your hair, roughly taking it down and beginning again for the fourth time.

While she worked, you sat still on the wooden stool in front of her and stared at yourself in the mirror, trying to memorize your features as they were now.

This was the last time you would see the face you knew. Next time you looked in the mirror, you would be different. Would you feel different?

You tried to picture yourself scarred, with two thin lines running from each of your ears to the corners of your mouth. Your eyes stung, tears threatening to fall at the thought.

But there would be no crying today.

Instead, you let your eyes wander to your mother’s reflection, hovering just behind and above yours in the mirror. You examined her face. Of course, you had never seen her without her scars, but you’d always thought your mother was beautiful.

Maybe the change in your appearance would not be so drastic. Maybe it was vain to care.

You were not supposed to be vain.

Once your mother was satisfied with the look of the braided crown of your hair, she gently placed her hands on your shoulders, meeting you gaze in the mirror.

“We are imperfect beings,” she recited. You joined your voice with hers for the second part, “And thus we make ourselves imperfect in Her eyes.”

She smiled softly, squeezing your arms lightly. “Good girl. I’m proud of you. I know you will do wonderfully today.” You tried to return her smile. “Now. Get dressed. I laid your clothes out on the bed.”

She turned to leave you, pausing in the doorway. “Remember what I said, child. No tears today. Do you understand?”

You nodded quickly. Obediently.

She seemed pleased as she left the room.

You changed quickly, wondering if she had been able to tell that you’d spent the whole night before crying. You hadn’t gotten a minute of sleep.

The stool squeaked as you sat back down, not sure what to do with yourself while you waited. You met your own eyes in the mirror once more, this time immediately averting your gaze. You felt sick. And close to tears. And so very scared.

On the other side of the door, you could hear Yara and her mom greeting your mother. The eight-year-old asked if she could come inside to see you. After just a moment of hesitation, your mother allowed it, and you could hear the slight creak of the door as she came in.

Yara said your name quietly, standing just inside the door. You turned to look at her. She smiled, happy to see you, just as always.

“Happy birthday!” she whispered excitedly, closing the distance between you and wrapping her arms around you tightly. You squeezed her back, holding her close for longer than usual. Yara, never one to be the first to break a hug, lingered for as long as you wanted her there.

You were neighbors, and your mothers had grown up together and had always been close. And although Yara was four years younger than you, the two of you were close too. She and five-year-old baby L were your siblings, as far as you were concerned.

Yara was mature for her age, even more so than most of your other friends. You knew you could trust her, so with her you were honest.

“I’m really scared,” you said quietly into her hair, still not releasing her from the embrace.

“I know,” she whispered back, squeezing you even tighter. “You’re the bravest person ever though. I know you can do this.”

You finally let go, retreating back to your stool, but Yara stayed close by, rubbing your shoulder comfortingly with one hand.

“She will be with you through this, and for all the days of your life,” she said, earnest. “Our pain is Her pain, and Her pain is ours.”

You couldn’t help but make a mental note of the fact that the Prophet actually did not receive the same scars as all of her followers, so perhaps this one specific pain is one that was not, in fact, shared between to two of you.

But Yara’s comment was made with a level of sincerity that you couldn’t help but admire—and borderline envied—so you chose to keep your thoughts to yourself.

Her presence was always a comfort, so you allowed yourself to relish in it for a quiet minute before your mother reentered the room.

“It’s time to leave,” she said simply. Firmly.

Behind her, just outside the door, you could see Yara’s mom standing there, holding a quiet but curious little L’s hand. They would all be walking over with you to witness the ceremony.

You forced yourself to stand, brushed your hands down your thighs as if to clear some nonexistent dust and smooth the phantom wrinkles. For a moment, you considered taking one last look in the mirror, but ultimately deciding against it. It would feel strange to do so, now that everyone was watching you and waiting.

For the briefest moment, you thought about making a run for it. Stealing a boat or even attempting to make the swim to the mainland. You could survive on your own, or maybe even join the Wolves. You weren’t scarred yet. You could lie about where you came from, and they would probably take you in…

The hiss of your name from your mother’s mouth ripped you back into reality, along with a gentle nudge from Yara.

You took a deep breath and started walking.

Once the home of the Prophet herself, Sanctuary was one of your people’s primary places of worship, second only to Martyr’s Gate on the mainland. (You had never seen it – You’d never left the island – so Sanctuary was where you most often prayed.)

Scarring ceremonies were held there, always on a child’s twelfth birthday.

You had witnessed many friends receive their scars. It was customary to attend the ceremonies of those close to you. Family, friends.  

The process was always the same.

Elder Constance would lead all those gathered in a prayer, holding the ceremonial blade. You would recite a version of the Prophet’s Prayer. The blade would be blessed. Then Elder Duncan would make the incisions before welcoming you as an official member, a child of the Prophet.

It never took very long. Everyone had work to get back to, tasks to fulfill.

You would soon come to find that your ceremony would not be like any of those others.

The first indication of this was the sheer number of people who were gathered at Sanctuary. You had never seen this many people gathered in one place at one time, many of the faces you did not recognize.

As you approached the dais, the crowd silently parted for you, all eyes examining you carefully as if looking for something unseen. You couldn’t begin guess what it was.

You wanted to go home. You wanted to cry. To hold your mother’s hand. You wanted to not be here at all. Ever. For this to be a horrible nightmare.

Why were there so many people here?

Your eyes met Elder Constance’s. She was stiff and serious, as always, but there was a brightness in her eyes that you were not accustomed to seeing. A quick glance at Elder Duncan revealed a similar expression on his face.

The other five Elders also stood on the stage. Another thing that was unusual for a simple scarring ceremony.

Had you done something wrong? Were you in trouble?

You looked ahead, and your legs continued to carry you forward, despite your internal protestations.

When your feet were nearly touching the first step up, you stopped. And although your mind went blank, your body remembered what to do.

You bowed your head to each of the Elders, silently waiting to be greeted and invited onto the dais.

“Welcome, child, on this most joyous day!” Elder Constance’s voice boomed, carrying enough for everyone gathered to hear. “Come. Join us.”

You fought the urge to turn around and find your mother. You wanted to look at her face, to see if she knew what was happening.

But you knew that any moves you made in this moment other than exactly what was expected of you would be seen as hesitation, and therefore disgraceful. And you didn’t want your mother to be angry.

So you did as Elder Constance said, and you climbed the steps.

Your vision blurred. You tried to focus on your breathing.

“Two years ago, the ignoble Wolves took our beloved Prophet from us,” she began once you were standing center-stage. The reaction from the audience was instantaneous, full of outrage and despair. Elder Constance allowed this to continue for several moments before holding up her hand; and the noise stopped just a quickly as it began.

“But She is not dead! For the Prophet’s spirit cannot be killed by the evils of mankind.” The crowd hung on her every word as she continued, “She lives in all of us. In our actions and in our virtues. In Her teachings.”

“Here before you are all of your Elders, appointed to this honorable position by our Prophet, most wonderful and wise. She speaks to us, and it is our duty—our privilege—to share her words with you.”

“But today, She does not have words for us.” Elder Constance paused, the audience hushed, waiting for the reveal. “It is Her heavenly desire to give us a new source of hope. An advocate. A champion… A new Prophet.”

Elder Constance’s hands landed on your shoulders.

“Today, She has chosen Her successor.”

The crowd erupted in celebration.

You went completely numb and tuned them all out.

The Elders continued to speak, and the people continued to celebrate. All the while, your mind was reeling and your face was blank.

A new Prophet?

There can’t be a new Prophet.

What does that even mean?

There have never been any prophets except for THE Prophet.

And if there does need to be a new Prophet, why would it be you?

Why you?

Why you?

Why you?

It can’t be you.

If any of your questions were answered, you didn’t hear it above the ringing in your head.

Your attention was drawn to the blade that was now in Elder Constance’s hands, and you forced yourself to again begin to listen.

“…The Neo-Prophet will take on her full responsibilities when the time is right. But until then…” She continued on with familiar words, ones used in a typical scarring ceremony to bless the blade before it was used.

The knife was then passed down the line of Elders, each of them lifting it above their head and reciting the same words.

Your legs suddenly felt very weak.

Elder Duncan blessed the blade last and stepped forward, positioning himself just a couple feet away from you. You turned to him just as you knew you were supposed to.

This was the part in the ceremony when you would usually say a version of The Prophet’s Prayer. You weren’t sure if you were still meant to do that, given the circumstances, but you were operating solely on instincts now, so you began, “The world is not in balance, but I will do my part to right it.”

You weren’t speaking nearly as loud as the Elders had. You hoped you were loud enough. You hoped you were doing it right.

The pleased look on Elder Duncan’s face indicated that you had done well, but before you could go on with the next line, all of the Elders continued the prayer together:

“You will lead us through the storm May the current be calm May You guide us home.”

Their words had been slightly altered from the classic prayer, different than you would’ve said it if you had been given the chance. The strangest part was that they were speaking to you.

Almost like they were praying to you…

Elder Duncan took another step forward, gripping the knife.

You expected him to use his other hand to lift your face, to hold it at the best angle for the scarring. You’d seen him do the same to others many times before.

This was the part that you knew was coming. You had been at least attempting to prepare for it. You could handle it.

But you were thrown off once again when instead, he took your right wrist in his free hand and gently pressed your fingers down, making you form a fist. He then lifted your hand until it was by your ear, knuckles facing inward, arm bent at the elbow. His own hand gripped your elbow, holding your arm in place.

You were frozen, with no choice but to watch as the knife met the outside of your forearm and sank in. A slow, straight line was carved from the top of your wrist all the way to your elbow.

You didn’t look away. You didn’t cry. You did as you were told.

You wanted to go home.

“We are imperfect beings. And thus, we make ourselves imperfect in Your eyes.” Elder Duncan said, meeting your gaze. “It is for this reason that we proudly wear our scars on our faces.”

When his work was done, he released your right elbow and moved on to the left, lifting that arm into the same position. “But the Prophet, in Her kindness, bears the weight of our imperfections, carrying all of us in her arms. This is why You will wear your scars here.”

“Remember that You are part of us, but set apart.” The blade pierced the skin of your left forearm, and a twin incision was formed. “We look to You, Prophet. May She guide you. May She protect you.” With that, he took a step back, lowering the knife.

You slowly lowered your arms to your sides and turned back to face the enraptured crowd.

Finally, you found your mother among them.

And she was crying.

“My friends,” Elder Constance declared, gesticulating dramatically, “Your Prophet!”

The cheers were deafening.

As you scanned the masses, you felt the blood ooze down your arms and curl around your fingers, pooling on the ground by your feet.

You found Yara, who was somehow clapping and cheering more enthusiastically than anyone else. And then you saw L, held up on their mother’s hip, face concerned, eyes wide and wary.

At least someone was as skeptical as you were.

You wondered if you would get to go home now.

But Elder Constance placed her hands on your shoulders again, this time turning you and leading you in the opposite direction, into the Prophet’s grand house. Into Sanctuary.

There, servants’ gentle hands carefully cleaned your stinging wounds, took down and brushed out your hair, and helped you change into a new white dress.

You would never live in your mother’s house again.

And it would be eight years before anyone addressed you by your name.

#the wolf and the prophet #my writing #abby anderson #abby anderson x fem!reader #abby anderson x reader #abby x fem!reader #abby x reader #abby tlou #tlou2 #abby anderson fanfic #abby anderson fic

[aziraphales-library]

Hello amazing mod team! I was wondering if you know of any fics involving Crowley taking care of an injured/sick/Fallen Aziraphale, or vice versa? The fluffier the better. I also typically don't read AUs. Thank you all so much for what you do here. Much love!

Hi! You can check our #sick fic, #hurt aziraphale, #hurt crowley, and #fallen angel aziraphale tags for more fics like this. Here are more fluffy hurt and sick Aziraphale fics to add...

Unsteady Breaths by Elijahsworld (NR)

Happily unboxing his new collection of books, the thought that anything he would receive could be harmful to his angelic being never crossed his mind. Or Aziraphale falls ill but Crowley's there to comfort him through these rough times.

Made it out of our cages, never made it back home by ethewinter (NR)

"We were a team," said Crowley. "And a damn good one at that. I never... Out of all of the people who could've betrayed me, angel, I never would have thought it would be you. Not in a thousand lifetimes. You want to know why I'm still hurt?" Crowley straightened and looked directly into Aziraphale's eyes. His yellow eyes were filled with tears. "I never would've done this to you. Never. I don't fucking care what you think, we're an us. We've always been an us. You running off to play archangel doesn't make that different." - Aziraphale's promotion to supreme archangel doesn't work out. Crowley's left to pick up the pieces.

so I’ll take care of you (and honey, you’ll take care of me too) by sugardustedtulips (T)

“Angels don’t sneeze,” Crowley began, letting a few seconds of silence fill the atmosphere. “Wait, do they?” “I don’t know, dear. But, not to worry, I’ll be all tickety-boo in no time. It’s just the weather, you see, icy all around,” Aziraphale remarked, his tone a smidge too polite and formal for the situation. “My corporation’s merely responding to the changes-“ He had begun, before another sneeze so rudely punctuated his sentence. The muffled mucus-filled sniffles were loud enough to be transmitted to the other end of the phone, the worry in the demon’s chest rising, pounding on his ribs. “‘m coming over,” Crowley said matter-of-factly, hoping Aziraphale couldn’t somehow sense that both his legs are anxiously bouncing at breakneck speed.

Unwilling to waste miracles on himself, Aziraphale can’t miracle himself better after catching a cold. Luckily, a certain lovesick demon is there to take care of him. A sickening amount of fluff ensues (and many feelings are realised).

at the edge of the water by viperinz (G)

“Hello, dearest. Do you mind miracling a cold pack for me? I’m afraid I can’t focus enough to do it.” Crowley swallows, his eyes wide. He does what he’s asked to do, because of course he doesn’t mind. He doesn’t mind at all. He walks to the side Aziraphale is facing, sitting down on the edge of the bed. He hands the cold pack to Aziraphale, who gratefully takes it. “Thank you,” he whispers, and Crowley watches as he puts the pack on his right thigh. Aziraphale sighs in relief, but his face still conveys how much pain he still feels. And, Crowley gets it now. The pain that needed a cold pack, the way that Aziraphale was limping. It was an injury, wasn’t it?

Crowley notices that there's something going on with Aziraphale's leg. He realizes the pain lies deeper than he first thought it would.

Eye for an Eye by Greenathena (T)

A year before the Apocalypse, Aziraphale is suddenly struck blind, losing both his corporeal and ethereal vision. To make matters worse, he's just discovered that Heaven may have some new technology to hasten the end of the world.

so grey the face of every mortal by philadelea (T)

"Now, some 6,000 years, several historical rescues, and one half-Apocalypse later, that promise tasted like ash in Crowley’s mouth. " It's been six months since Armaggeddidn't. Aziraphale has been in Hell for the last three weeks. Crowley is there to pick up the pieces.

- Mod D

#good omens #ineffable husbands #hurt aziraphale #sick fic #mod d

[athanasius-symposium-of-writings]

Green Carnation

Chapter Two

I want to say how happy I am to see a lot of ppl like this fic. I will say it was a bit personal to write this and had to even talk to my friend about the subjects of this fic that it touches. So I want to thank them for helping me and also tell you all: you are very loved <3

Again pls read the warning and keep yourself safe

Rated: Explicit | Warnings: open relationship, there is gender play/crossdressing in this chapter. Norton calls the reader 'Mrs. Campbell' as they/he cannot marry him during this time but it all plays into a fantasy and is not said in a way of demeaning but in a way of affection.

Chapter One

The molly house, a speakeasy your wife took you to, is full of high society types. Here you found out a lot about yourself. Your wife, you love her to pieces, was supportive the whole way.

The place is not popular in the sense not many people travel this far to go here for there are others. The rustic charm and the memories of your friend keep you here.

You think about him, your friend and lover, he was a good man. Older and loved talking about his work with technology. The subject is sore for you and you come to the conclusion maybe you would never find a man like him; you won't but something new is not so bad.

Norton is at the check-in desk getting the large suitcase, holding a surprise, a quick search. You went ahead inside to see if your wife was still watching the burlesque show. Her lover, a woman you find pleasant, is sitting next to her. She points you out to your wife. 

You smile glad to see them both. Her lover waves at you before going back to watch the show.

She kisses you for a few seconds with her arms around your neck, “I thought you weren't coming.” Pulling back. She is beautiful, always beautiful, wearing the latest dress from France. Your wife is from very old money thus your father had your marriage arranged for social climbing. Lucky you, she likes you— Loves you.

“Sorry, got uh…” Rubbing the back of your neck awkwardly.

Norton comes up behind you with a neutral expression for your wife, “Fancy seeing you.” The suitcase is no longer with him, “They're getting us a room.” He informs you.

Your wife is confused and looks ready to also protect you. “It's okay. He asked to come here.” You say with a smile for her to know you are truly okay.

“And you trust him?”

Norton frowns, “I used to work in a place like this. The alcohol is just as cheap there as it is here.” His hand slipping around your waist tugging you close to him, “I intend to fuck your husband.”

Your wife looks at you then him then you and back to him, “Seriously?” Given she knew about your attraction to Norton the moment you came home covered in bruises, “Listen, we are discussing this later.” Shaking her head she lowers her voice, “You break my husband, I break you, Campbell.” She is very serious as she glares at him then softens her gaze toward you. “I'll be here.” Kissing you again before returning to her lover.

“I thought you two weren't in love.” The Prospector is very confused.

You laugh a bit, “We are in love. She has a lover and I was fine with only her but the option was always available for me to seek another.”

Norton will not pretend to understand that.

For a bit you both hang out at the bar, drinking a bit, mostly chatting. The bartender informs you both the private room is ready, and you take the key. Norton follows your lead.

“The rooms are over here.”

Small rooms with beds and simple bathrooms are places for those to indulge with partners or paid companionship. They are always clean and can have certain amenities added or changed.

It takes a minute to find the room; once you do, opening and closing the door, Norton sits on the bed next to the suitcase. “Go on.” Gesturing for you to take the thing with you, “In there, and don't come out until you are all dolled up.” Pointing to the closed bathroom door. The smirk on his face broadcasts how pleased he is as your cheeks burn hotter than any fire right now.

You are uh, you have not been with another man after your friend’s death, never felt right. He was everything you wanted to be, inspired to be, and yet you were content not to be. He showed you things and was slow and patient with you, never will find that again you figured. 

Norton does not move slow; he moves fast and trusts his gut on things most of the time. And tonight his gut was right.

The wedding dress you wear, after going into the bathroom and preparing yourself, is comfortable for your size and body type. It is the same one you were looking at with your wife while talking to her about renewing your vows. Norton was only there because he needed a party suit.

“This is embarrassing.” The makeup is a touch you added without him saying anything. Your wife adores you with lipstick, the rouge kind, it makes your smile pop. Norton sits there with his legs open and leaning back with his hands holding him up. Admiring, though you can feel him undressing you.

“Mrs. Campbell.” He says, “You look nice.”

“Nice? Do you understand the fight I was having with this zipper!? I better be more than nice.” Annoyed.

“Alright, alright,” Standing up with his hands up in defense, “How about ravishing, hm? Want me to praise my good boy for following my instructions, or,” He grins at the way he can tower over you, “Should I take my wife on our wedding night and make him feel everything I have been holding back, hm?”

There is something you like… Something about being in a role you are never going to have. You are a man, a husband, the breadwinner. There are things in this society you will never have nor be granted even if you held all the money in the world. You must dominate, must be strong, you must be everything society demands of you.

Your father was forgiving of your tastes so long as you were discreet; your wife helped you… Help you find this place where you can be how you want.

The bed is comfortable but you find yourself backed against a wall with Norton under the wedding dress.

“Hard already? Lace really does wonders to a man.”

You try not to moan, try not to seem touch starved for another man's touch, but you moan. Hands gripping and pressing down on the front of your dress. The dress is not a problem rubbing against the right spots as Norton’s callous hand grips your legs. Comparing both your bodies, you must feel like a doll to him. You are trying hard not to cum as his tongue and lips are hot against your cock, the barrier of the lace panties rubbing and your hard cock twitching with arousal.

“Don’t you dare cum.”

 “God, please.”

“Not God, me. Beg for me.” His bitemarks littered all over your inner thighs, “Making a mess down here.” Precum weeping out of your cock onto the underwear. His mouth takes the tip while his tongue cleans your mess.

“Shit, sorry, sorry!” It is too late and cum into Norton’s mouth, legs wobbling until they give out.

“Tsk, spoiled brat. I told you not to cum.” When you fall to the floor, now on your back, he slips from under your dress, licking his lips as lay there covering your eyes with both hands, “That good?” He crawls over to see you, moving your hands off your face. He looks worried. “(Name)...”

Crying, “Yes. Sorry, it's been… A long time.” It is unexpectedly emotional. You apologize again only for lips and a salty taste to blank your mind. His body is heavy, his colon the one you mentioned once how it smells nice, and his hand everywhere.

You once knew what it was like to be treasured, now you know what it is like to be possessed.

Norton Campbell is greedy, he touches you, consumes you; you writhe under him as lifts the dress to properly open you up. The oil he uses makes you feel warm and sensitive, “Suggested.”

“By who?” Out of breath.

“A friend.” Not only a friend, Norton hates the man but that novelist bastard has his uses.

“Good… Ah… Friend!” He found that sweet spot quickly, “Norton, Norton!” Legs shaking as you feel the ache of another release.

“This time you better hold back.”

You do, it is difficult but you do it with tears in your eyes and begging for him to let you cum.

“Mrs. Campbell needs to learn patience.”

“Mr. Campbell needs to fuck his wife or he might go find someone else who will.”

Norton sat up, a shadow falling over half of his face; you worried you said something wrong but when you are turned over to lay on your front. The way he hastily ripped his tie off to bind your wrist behind your back, he left enough fabric to use it like a leash.

“As if you would give that hole of yours to anyone but me.” His body close to yours once more, your head turning to glance behind you. You have never seen Norton naked, no reason to, and though he is not fully naked, he is shaped like a statue of Ares. Muscles and blood, his bones of iron; you whine at the sound of his pants being undone. He filled out so well, and you gasp as his cock-- Hot, heavy, and hard-- slid between your asscheeks. “You're a good boy,” Adjusting his cock with his free hand to press against your hole, “If you were easy, I wouldn’t have noticed how tight you are.” The lace moved aside but not taken off. Norton Campbell will be the death of you, pushing back wordlessly begging him. He is all too happy to thrust into your heat, the groan of how you need to relax, the way you called out his name in the voice he going to be obsessed with for a long time.

Lovemaking would be nice but not what is being done, Norton fucks you like you going to disappear. His teeth bite into your shoulder as he holds you close, thrusting with the intention of making your body remember every drag of cock. He will do this over and over, with you begging over and over to go harder or faster. Norton likes it when especially ask him to touch you, the sobs of your pleasure and way struggle to match his thrusts.

“That’s it,” Husky voice laced with the finest of lust, “(Name).” The sound of your name is spoken throughout the night. Every spot in this room is a witness and near the end he has you on the bed, holding you like you are his most treasured desire. Because you are.

It is a long night before he has to let you go. The saddest part of it all is always when the fantasy ends, yet it makes the memory last the longest. You will feel him for a few days and he will long for you for a few days. The public will only see what they need to see, the smoke and mirrors. The bittersweetness of it all, you try to focus on the sweetness though as he is there. Always there in front of you sharing the sun and moon with you.

#idv #reader insert #idv prospector #identity v x reader #identity v #idv x you #idv reader insert #idv x reader #idv norton #norton campbell x reader #norton campbell #norton campbell x you

[raaorqtpbpdy]

Respect or Privacy (1)

Tucker is excited for everything about college, even having a roommate for the first time. At least, he is until his roommate Danny turns out to be standoffish and a little bit of a dick. Whatever. It's a disappointment, but he'll survive. The same might not be said of Danny.

This is my first fic for Phic Phight 2024. The prompts I used were:

College AU where the characters don't meet until college and Danny has to hide his halfa status from his dorm roommate (your choice which character that is) [from @shadowfaerieammy], and Tucker fucked up. Hard. But it’s like, how the hell was he supposed to know that hacking the federal government was a bad idea? [from @lexosaurus]

You can also read it on AO3.

Chapter 1: Fuck Around (Chapter 2)

[No warnings apply]

Tucker was excited for college. After the nightmare that was high school (his dad's "just be confident and people will like you and treat you well" advice had been complete garbage), he was looking forward to a school experience where everyone had actually signed up for and more-or-less wanted to be there. He was looking forward to studying programming and information technology, and spending six hours a day on average hanging out with people who were just as interested in those subjects as he was.

Then, obviously, there were the college girls—big bonus to this whole experience. Lastly, he was looking forward to the dorm experience. He'd always been kind of lonely growing up. He was an only child, and he'd never had any close friends. Honestly, he'd been closer with his bullies than he had been to the other guys in the A/V club his mom had convinced him to join which was... embarrassing.

But all freshman were required to live on campus, and he'd signed up for a double room, meaning that he would have a roommate who would have no choice but to spend time with him, and as a result, they would have to get used to each other, and learn to live with each other, and inevitably become best friends—at least until the end of freshman year.

When Tucker reached his new dorm, room 416, he could hear grumbling and shuffling on the other side of the door. His roommate must already be here. He grinned as he opened the door.

"Hey, roomie!" Tucker greeted cheerfully.

His roommate jumped at the sound, and slammed a dresser drawer closed on his finger. "Fuck!" he yelped, and turned around with a wide-eyed look on his face like he'd just been caught doing something illegal.

"Uh... sorry," Tucker said. "Didn't mean to spook ya."

"Heh, you didn't... I mean you surprised me, but I wasn't like... scared...." He cleared his throat and gave Tucker an awkward forced smile. "I'm Danny."

"Tucker Foley." Tucker tossed his duffel bag onto the empty bed and gently placed his box of tech on the desk next to it. "Looked like you were struggling with that drawer, whatcha got in there?"

Danny's smile fell. "Look, I don't wanna sour our relationship right out of the gate, but that's really none of your business. I would appreciate it if you kept your nose out of my stuff."

"Uh... okay, sure," Tucker agreed. "Wasn't trying to be nosy or anything, anyway. Sorry."

"Good," Danny said, the tension in his body language easing slightly. "As long as you respect my privacy, I think we'll get along fine."

Tucker smiled, but he felt his heart sink. 'Respect my privacy' sounded a lot like it meant 'leave me alone', and 'leave me alone' was pretty much the same as 'I don't want to be your friend', which sounded a lot like all Tucker's hopes for dorm life flushing down the toilet.

"So where're you from, Danny?" Tucker asked. "Or is that information too personal."

Danny paused before answering, like he was genuinely trying to decide if it was too personal or not.

"Illinois," he said finally. "You?"

"Illinois, also. What town?" Tucker asked. "Man, wouldn't it be wild if we grew up in the same place and never met before? I'm from Elmerton."

"Elmerton? Ew," Danny said with a laugh. "I'm an Amity Parker. I'd rather die than live in Elmerton. Elmerton sucks."

"Hey! It may be kinda boring, I'll give you that much, but it's still better than haunted-ass Amity Park!" Tucker argued, thankful it seemed like things were starting to lighten up a bit between him and his new roommate. "At least I didn't grow up surrounded by a bunch of evil ghosts taking revenge on the living."

Tucker was laughing, but just like that, Danny's demeanor got cold and closed off again. Shit. Tucker let his laughter awkwardly trail off, wondering what he'd said wrong. Man, making friends was even harder than he thought.

"Is that all your stuff?" Danny asked. "Just the one bag and a cardboard box?"

"Oh! No! I still have some things to bring up; I left them with the dorm supervisor. I better go get 'em."

"Yeah, you probably should," Danny agreed. "I wouldn't put that much trust in the dorm supervisor, he seemed kinda shady."

"Er... right."

Tucker went down to grab the last of his stuff, and by the time he reentered the dorm room, Danny was gone.

He sighed. "Great first impression, Tuck. Well done."

Danny must've arrive much earlier in the day than Tucker had, because most of his stuff was already unpacked. His bed was made and everything. As Tucker's eyes wandered over Danny's side of the room, they were drawn to the bottom drawer of his dresser, the one he'd accidentally slammed his finger in, trying to make sure Tucker didn't see what was in it.

"I shouldn't," he said out loud. "Danny literally asked for one thing—that I respect his privacy."

Poking around now would be completely stupid. It would ruin my chances of ever being friends with him. Tucker reminded himself internally.

Still, he couldn't tear his eyes away from that drawer.

And he doubted Danny would be back any time soon. It wouldn't be dark for a few more hours at least, and Danny was clearly avoiding him.

Against his better judgement, Tucker knelt down on the floor and opened the dresser drawer, expecting to see sex toys, or lingerie, or something similarly embarrassing. Instead, he found strange, futuristic looking weapons and technology. It looked like alien shit. Was Danny secretly an alien? No, that was stupid.... Right?

Tucker slowly pushed the drawer closed again, questioning everything he knew about the universe.

He would have preferred sex toys.

No, they had to be earthly technology, because Tucker distinctly remembered seeing a logo emblazoned on everything that said 'Fenton Works'. All he had to do was look that up online and put his mind at ease. Danny seemed like a... fairly reasonably guy. There had to be a good explanation for him having a cache of high tech weapons in a college dorm. Although, to be honest, it wasn't looking too good at the moment.

Tucker unpacked his box of tech, set up his desktop PC set up and plugged in his laptop and PDA to charge. Then, he looked up Fenton Works, which brought him to an absolutely hideous orange and teal website for what seemed to be a small family business in Amity Park that specialized in ghost hunting and developing ghost hunting technology.

A sigh of relief escaped him.

Danny definitely wasn't an alien. He was just another paranoid Amity Parker, worried about ghosts attacking, even though they were all the way in Wisconsin. That was probably why he'd tensed up when Tucker made a crack about ghosts before. Tucker's dad sometimes went to Amity Park for work, and he said they were super serious about ghosts there, and didn't appreciate jokes about their haunting situation. Honestly, Tucker should have known better from the start, but he'd thought they were riffing. He hadn't gotten all offended when Danny made fun of Elmerton.

Whatever. He could apologize when Danny got back. In the meantime, he started programming his class schedule for this semester into his PDA, making sure there would be room for homework—and, more importantly, college parties.

As the days passed and classes started and the two of them both got busier, Tucker made an effort to talk to Danny as much as possible, and even though Danny smiled and responded politely, he always dodged any personal topics. Also, Tucker was pretty sure he was avoiding spending more time together than was strictly necessary, but he couldn't be sure. Still, he was determined for he and Danny to be friends.

"So Danny, I heard about this party one of the frats is hosting to draw in pledges," Tucker said. "Obviously I'm not planning to join a frat, but it could still be fun. Wanna come with me?"

"Uh... I'm not really a party person," Danny said apologetically. "I'm more of a bed person, enjoyer of sleeping and chilling."

"I get that, sure, but don't you want to meet people? Make friends? Maybe find a girlfriend? Or boyfriend, I don't judge."

"Thanks, but no thanks," Danny refused. "You have fun, though."

Tucker left it at that, but he couldn't help wondering what exactly was up with Danny being so standoffish. Did he have a problem with Tucker in particular, or was he just anti-social? It wasn't exactly unusual for someone not to want to go to a party. It could be that he didn't like crowds, or loud music, or being around drunk people, or frats in general. There were plenty of reasons Danny might not want to go—and no evidence that Tucker was part of the reason at all.

That didn't stop Tucker from wondering if he was.

That trend continued for the first month. Tucker would invite Danny to do something as friends, and Danny would decline for one reason or another, no matter what it was Tucker had proposed. Everything from parties in the dorm, to just going to get coffee or tea before classes, whether it was loud or quiet, crowded or solitary—even going to study at the library in silence, Danny always had a reason to say 'no', and Tucker was starting to take it personally.

"Okay, what's your deal?" Tucker demanded after Danny once again refused to join him, this time for literally just takeout in their dorm room—Tuck had offered to pay and everything. "Do you have some kind of problem with me, or something? I just want us to get along and shit, 'cause we're roommates, and we have to live with each other all year, but you keep shutting me down! So what gives?!"

"Nothing," Danny insisted. "Honestly, I'm just not hungry."

"Yeah, this time you're not hungry, but you refused laser tag 'cause you're not very athletic, and studying at the library 'cause you had other plans with your classmates, and coffee before class 'cause you don't drink coffee—even though I've literally seen you drinking coffee before!" Tucker snapped. "Dude, it's ten pm, and you haven't eaten since breakfast, you can't not be hungry, so what's wrong with you?!"

Danny flinched at the question, but Tucker couldn't feel too bad for mildly offending the guy who'd been blowing him off all month.

"Nothing," Danny said again, not meeting Tucker's angry gaze. "I'm just... I'm just a regular, ordinary guy. So go ahead and order takeout if you care so much, I'm not gonna stop you."

"No. That's not good enough," Tucker insisted. "I been trying to hang with you since we moved in, and you keep blowing me off for no good reason. So what's the issue? Is it 'cause I'm black?"

"What?! No!"

"Then what?! Give me one good reason why you're treating me this way?"

"Look, it's not about you, okay?"

"Oh, you're gonna pull out an 'it's not you, it's me'? I'm not your overbearing girlfriend, I'm your roommate, and all I wanted to do was get along."

"I don't want any friends, okay?!" Danny finally burst out. "I don't have any problem with you, I just... I just think I'm better off on my own."

All Tucker could do was stare in disbelief.

"I made up excuses because I didn't want to offend you or anything, because I didn't want us to be on bad terms," Danny continued. "We're still roommates. I know that, and I'm not so stupid that I wanted to torch that relationship right out of the gate, but I'm not looking for someone to be best friends with, you know? All I wanted from a roommate was mutual respect and privacy."

"Why?" asked Tucker at length.

"What do you mean 'why'?"

"I mean, why do you want to be alone all the time?" Tucker pressed. "I been there, and it sucks. It's lonely and sad and pathetic and people make fun of you for being some kind of defective human being who can't get anyone lo like you. Why would you want that?"

"I like my solitude," Danny mumbled. He was back to not being able to look at Tucker again.

"You're afraid," Tucker refuted.

"What makes you say that?"

"It's obvious," Tucker said. "I don't know why, but for some reason you're just fucking terrified of people getting close to you? So what is it? Are you terminally ill or something? Do you secretly just have a totally shitty personality? What?"

For a long moment, Danny was silent, but he did tilt his head up to look Tucker squarely in the eye before speaking.

"That's none of your business."

Tucker's forehead wrinkled and his mouth fell open incredulously. Slowly, he shook his head. "Fuckin' fine. Whatever," he said finally. "You want a roommate who'll leave you alone—you got it. But mutual respect is off the table, 'cause you just lost mine."

#dp #danny phantom #danny fenton #fic #tucker foley #things i wrote #phic phight 24 #phic phight #angst #college au #no one knows au #respect or privacy

[dearophelia]

best of sara's fic, according to her

Because I’m feeling some kind of way about my cancer lately and wanted to put together a Sara’s Greatest Fic Hits while I’m still around to do it (which is a morbid thing to type, but see the intro: been feeling some kind of way lately).

These range from my most popular fics, to the ones lost to weird posting hours, and everything in between. If I counted correctly, there are 14 fandoms on this list: from Mass Effect and Dragon Age, to Grey’s Anatomy and Stargate SG-1, to The West Wing and Calvin & Hobbes.

I’d appreciate reblogs on this (I am not ashamed to pull the stage iv cancer card here) so it can reach as many people as possible.

I have been writing fic for over 15 years; this is not a short list.

All are rated T or lower unless otherwise indicated. All stories are at or under the 3k mark unless otherwise indicated.

Stargate SG-1:

waves are universal (the heaven in hiding remix) (Sam/Jack; I’m very Normal about this fic; time travel and alternate realities, a host of OCs (and some familiar faces from Norafic if you look closely), oh and the Sam/Jack kid from the alternate reality! Only she’s an adult and working on a way to save the world! This has it all, folks: humor, romance, angst, action! I told you I’m Normal about it; 40k)

strange is the night where black stars rise (Sam; horror! A low creeping sense of doom! The King in Yellow! No, seriously, fuck that planet; 10k)

#sg1wedding (Sam/Jack; their wedding turned into An Event against their will; bets are going down about who would win in a fight: Bra’tac or the Chairman of the Joint Chiefs; also Jack loses his socks; twitterfic from 2012 and technology has definitely Marched On, just read it like an unhinged group chat fic)

phoenix (Sam/Daniel/Teal’c, Sam/Jack, Sam/Jack/Daniel/Teal’c; apocalypse (that I consulted a real live geologist on!); rebuilding in the wake of said apocalypse; team family feelings, kids, and some really shitty neighbors; 38k)

Dragon Age:

joy cometh in the morning (Ariadne; rated M; a host of OCs; mind the warnings; friendship; worldbuilding galore; friendships and mentors and first loves; did I mention friendship and worldbuilding?; 56k)

through the rude wind’s wild lament, and the bitter weather (Ari+Cullen; quiet magic, kind magic, good magic is still new to Cullen)

as the sun kissed the horizon (Ari/Josephine; a relationship in ten moments)

‘til we meet again (Ari+Cullen; platonic sleeping together!)

so hold my hand, consign me not to darkness (Ari; her faith is the core of who she is and, for the first time, Andraste isn’t there; post-Trespasser)

raise your fists up to the sky (Kylie/Krem; it’s Krem’s first day with the Chargers and there’s a naked elf in the middle of camp)

every demon wants his pound of flesh (Krem+Bull; Krem was in the Fade with the Inquisitor and the fear demon had some Things To Say To Him)

black dove (Anaya) & strange little girl (Anaya+Dagna) & dissolving clouds (Anaya+Cullen) (because neurodivergent Inquisitor, friendship, blossoming romance, and three very different takes on blood magic)

skeletons (Zahara+Bull; she is saarebas, he is Ben-Hassrath, and language is important)

children shouldn’t play with dead things (Juliette Amell; she’s always had an easier time with the dead than the living; cw for bugs)

a sorta fairytale (Josephine/Cassandra; flower shop & tattoo parlor AU; 8k)

Mass Effect Trilogy:

gonna set your flag on fire (Nora Vakarian, Liv/Garrus, James/Liara, Liv+Liara, Livfam; action! Humor! Angst! Worldbuilding! OCs!; I am Super Normal about this fic too; I promise everything’s okay in the end, promise, even though it isn’t written yet; Nora is an N3 and has an inactive control chip in her head. She and her team are ordered to investigate a Cerberus facility. It goes, shall we say, awry; 40k)

anthem (Liv/Garrus, Hannah/Zaeed, Liv+Liara; eight months is a long time without each other; angst with a happy ending (I promise); post-Destroy; 13k)

holy ground & dress (Liv/Garrus; ficlets from the night he gets sworn in as Councilor)

brightly shone the moon at night (Liv, Liv+Liara, Liv/Garrus, Livfam; five Christmases in Olivia Shepard’s life; 5k)

the pieces of gold, they light up your eyes & now we’re alone, now we’re alive (Liv/Garrus; the evolution of a relationship)

fighting is said to have reached palaven (Liv/Garrus; please, please let him be alive)

and some things you just can’t speak about (Quentus+Nico; the war)

‘cause i know that it’s delicate (Liv/Garrus; pre-wedding!)

nosce te ipsum (Nico; he likes boys and fanfiction and he didn’t think he’d get his little italicized oh moment)

i will write you love letters if you tell me to (Liv/Garrus; Hannah gives him one of Liv’s notebooks before he goes off to Omega; Garrus does the only thing he can think of with it)

i really need you (Liv/Garrus; James POV during the reunion scene in Priority: Palaven)

you look really tired (Liv/Garrus, Liv+Liara; post-Thessia, Olivia’s not doing well)

hey, so, ground rules (Liv+Zaeed; it’s a lot weird now that he’s dating her mom)

and all the scars you bear are from a previous war (Liv+Quentus; Mom!Liv)

you can hear it in the silence (Liv/Garrus; just a moment, post-war)

this all started because of a bad day (Liv/Garrus; from first meetings to matching rings)

combat, i’m ready for combat & turn on your favorite nightlight (Hannah; she’s a civilian and her daughter isn’t, and she’s bound and determined to know what Liv goes through when her boots hit the ground; Hannah, Zaeed, Liv, and Garrus hit up Armax)

four quarians who never made it back to the fleet (and one who did) (kinda what it says on the tin, honestly. Oh, Tali’s in this!)

everyone’s lost, the battle is won (Evangeline; somewhat predictably, my experiment in getting as many of my team killed as possible resulted in Feelings About It)

across the sky (Susan/Liara; how to make the Control ending feel good)

and yours is in red underlined (Vanessa; The Illusive Man has pissed her off for the last time)

i’m headed straight for the castle (Vanessa; renegade control ending; kneel before your queen)

Mass Effect Andromeda:

for saviours (Tori; ten scenes from a pre-Andromeda life; 10k)

ringing joyful and triumphant (Tori/Liam/Jaal; just some morning fluff)

the thing with the baby angara (Tori/Liam/Jaal; thinking about the future)

the undone and the divine (Tori/Liam/Jaal; the lone single solitary explicit fic on here, give it props for that alone; Liam gets absolutely railed by his partners. That’s it. That’s the fic.)

you’re like the thing that makes the universe explode (Sara Ryder/Suvi, Drack; kid, the only people who don’t know that you like Suvi are people who haven’t met you and Suvi)

this one’s for the torn down, the experts at the fall (Tori+Garrus; one night in the intersection of Victoria Ryder and Archangel; maybe they’re better friends than they both thought)

The West Wing:

a great revelation sigh (CJ; she’s Chief of Staff; ten steps to the apocalypse; the apocalypse source probably didn’t age well, heads up)

it’s in my blood and i won’t give up ‘cause it’s running through my veins (Amy+Andi; it’s Election Day in the future and Amy has nothing to do)

Grey’s Anatomy:

dropsonde (the singers in a lower choir remix) (Addison/Alex, Derek/Meredith, Addison+Derek, Addison+Mark, Mark+Derek; the one that kicked off all the remixes; absolutely off the rails from canon somewhere in S3; budding romances and kidfic and my theory about people being storms and lighthouses; 40k)

scarlet city (Mark/Addison, Burke/Cristina; film noir gangster and detective AU; Addison’s the gangster, Burke’s the detective; literally everyone I could fit into this fic shows up; also Denny is comic relief; 18k)

Misc:

access records (Star Trek Voyager; Naomi Wildman’s holodeck access for the past week; worldbuilding!)

in this twilight our choices seal our fate (the song in the house of night remix) (SVU; Olivia/Elliot; rated M; on the rise and fall of partnership; probably a little too much religious imagery but what the hell else am I gonna do with a minor in religious studies?; 4k)

the end of days job (Leverage; Parker+Eliot+Hardison; the apocalypse job, basically; this one ages well!)

let the only sound be the overflow (D&D; Calia/Kelpie/Edal, aka ot3: fathoms below; the ocean is big and they are not)

we are golden stars above silver seas (we hear echoes from another galaxy) (Calvin & Hobbes; Calvin+Susie; throughout all those years, she never gave up on him; this one went viral on tumblr [LINK] and I cleaned it up for the AO3 version)

lift her, pull her, from the orchids (Grace and Frankie; Grace/Frankie; the one where I invoke the spelling bee)

rocket queens (Babylon 5/Pacific Rim; Susan Ivanova/Talia Winters; look, they’re jaeger pilots, I really don’t know what else to tell you)

the great gig in the sky (Battlestar Galactica; Six; rebirth is painful, she forgets this sometimes)

#screams hits post #s:words

[jess-themess05]

Favorite fics?

oh geez. i’m gonna try keep it sweet and simple less i go on and make it unbearable to read. also these summaries are gonna be terrible but i think all of these are gonna be fnaf sun and moon fics i’m SORRY ITS IN MY HEAD BUT ANYWAYS- SHORT N SWEET LES GO

A Dose of Sunshine and Starlight - @give-me-your-monsters a slow burn w/ lots of angst and bittersweet-ness aww but you are all mentally ill.

Bug Love - @theohnocorral the boys are now bug-ified gods and take a liking to a mortal who probably apologies to inanimate objects

Universal Jesters - @lovelymoonmagic you accidentally become the handler to pair of bots with memory loss and mystery trauma

it was, in reality, not fine - @bones-of-a-rabbit you, the reader, have the self preservation skills as a bowl of soup. also oblivious to love hehe

Late Night to Early Morning - Loyal_Backstabber reader meets neglected robot clowns and vows to risk their life for them

Solar Lunacy - @bamsara its- ITS SOLAR LUNACY. anyways you meet certified murder robots and say i can fix em, they’re gonna fix u too.

copper cogs rusted through - @paper-lilypie “oh what’s this, one of these jesters tried killing me? eh it’s fine” then you fall in love

Rotating Shifts - LightningTriceratops protag mistakes sun for unconscious, jaundice ridden man and realizes he’s a robot with a not dead brother and separation anxiety

basically ANYTHINGGG by @naffeclipse , but the first story i ever read from them was In Deep Dreams Between the Waves very different fro, eclipse in sleuth jesters cause he’s actually decent. (also poor vanessa girl don’t get a break)

Clowning Around - EngageSage you overcome your anxiety to protect a poor jester, and are fueled by spite to fuck up moon man for being a certified bitch

Celestial hearts in a purple mind - @kabra-malvada *finds ominous object* *touches it* *is shocked to find they are possessed*

Twin Animatronics With Too Much Time on Their Hands - @twinanimatronics & @dana-chan-the-control-brain you fall in love and fight the temptation to resurrect a dead dude and kill him again

The Night Shift - @certified-handler oopsie you now work with a needy jester who sweeps you off your feet, even more oopsie he turns into a psychopath when the lights go out and triple oopsie you fall in love with HIM too

Star Crossed Souls - @faz-friendly-light-up-shoes reader said “god give me a sign i’ll find love.” gets the sign, and ignores it

404: Personal Space Not Found - CrazedAuthor anxiety filled individual thinks they will be fixed by a child supervisor, gets surprised by his stab happy twin

Celestial Syzygy - @echoingkarma you’re like the jack of all trades, including befriending animatronics who may or may not hate you (and want to maim you) you are probably underpaid.

My Neighbor Mr. Roboto - @kagedbird oh what’s this? you think moving into your new apartment will be simple and boring? WRONG there’s a robot in your closet. and everywhere- why are there so many-

Apology Flowers and Blooming Hours - @daunsun you’d think sentient flowers would have no angsty backstory huh? well actually...

Our Orbit is Elliptical - @sycopomp like your intrusive thoughts came to life, and you choose to ignore them

Lost and Found - SmolShampoo technology is so cool right guys? you got ai, and that ai can get traumatized! how cool??

Stare at the Abyss; It Might Look Back - @characcoon reader becomes a human punching bag and finds new rusty robot roommates. once they escape a deteriorating child’s play place they walked into

Ventura Highway - @madamemiz says “hey is anyone gonna take this robot?” and doesn’t wait for an answer.

Repaired Unstable - @blonde-fraumell you decide to work alongside your childhood friend! oh how non threatening he was- hey why’s this man TEN FEET TALL. and why’s this other man so kickable.

also, obligatory mer may fics! even though it’s no longer may these are still being updated :D

Luminescent Charm - @finfiprince reader finds the fishy dudes they saved as a kid in a cage, continues to spite god until they can save them

Celestial Omens (that really like Fishsticks) - @bamsara (again yes) you save two scared bastard fish and feed them in your bathroom, a decade later they see u and go “well they gave us fishsticks no drowning for them”

The Sea Jesters are Real Science - MatosaurusRex & sixty_nine13 your idol hires you to take care of real life mer! wow! unfortunately being their therapist wasn’t in the contract

Pisces Caelestis - S_V i’m a little scared of reader. they got attacked by a mer and passed out for 3 days and said “yeah lmao i’ll be fine” nO YOU WONT-

#oh this was #this was not short #BUT HEY IT COULD BE LONGER #there’s definitely more to add but if people are actually interested in hearing my recs i’d be happy to oblige! #fnaf security breach #fnaf #fnaf au #also these are in no order! just what came to mind :) #fnaf fanfic

[littleststarfighter]

May I ask if there’s any mcr fics that you would recommend

These are what I've enjoyed so far. All Frerard (Frank/gerard) fic recs. I have many more to read (saved about 100 fics yikes) so will have more recs in the future if anyone is interested? A lot of supernatural, spooky and ghosty ones here. And, lots of Danger Days as that's what got me into reading them in the first place. Of course I started with what is seen as the holy fic trinity. These are just my taste. I can't promise that they’ll be yours, but hope there's something you like XD

Unholyverse by Bexless

“He thinks I have stigmata,” Frank said, because what the fucking hell, it couldn’t get any worse. He might as well just lay it out.

“Oh, well,” said Brian into his hands. “Of course.”

The Anatomy of a Fall by novembersmith

The unholy union of a high school AU and a ghost story. Gerard's life takes a strange turn when his family moves to a small town in Vermont and he discovers the locals aren't all what they seem to be. Also includes: unexpected nature walks, murder, pining, improper treatment of crime scenes, a number of bone-related puns, high school bullies, and a short-range shrub named Ferdinand.

A Splitting Of The Mind by Shoved2agree (Gaiamdma)

Gerard Way sees the world differently. Alone and institutionalised, Gerard claims that he is being hunted, and that his mind holds the key to existence. Does Gerard really hold such a powerful secret? Or is he just insane like everyone else in the institution?

Run by vesna (mrsronweasley)

Being a secret teenage werewolf is hard. Frank should know. He is one.

James Cameron Got It Wrong by ladyfoxxx

In which 2005!Frank and Fun Ghoul get it on. Then Frank accidentally winds up in 2019.

Shadows In The Parking Lot by Cellphonecharm_au

In which there’s a mass grave under Frank and Ray’s apartment complex, Frank doesn’t believe in ghosts, & Frank’s ex-boyfriend is, conveniently, a paranormal consultant.

The Science of Sleep by chimneythunder

It’s 2011 and Frank Iero’s life is pretty average until the night where he starts getting dreams about a strange, apocalyptic California where there’s rayguns, grey corporations and terrorists who use art and colour as a weapon. Interesting and fun at first, but the more he dreams about this world, the more he starts to wonder if it really is a dream... and the deeper he gets into this futuristic world, the more it seems to affect his life in the present day.

And just how exactly does everything all seem to link in with that douchebag black-haired artist who sits in Starbucks every day?

The Calypso Initiative by theficisalie

AU: A rise in technological and medical advancements combined with an unexpected surge in mutations around the globe can only mean one thing: superpowers. As a child born before the information boom of 2010 rocked the world with the official news of these "SuperHumans", Frank Iero was kicked out onto the street at nine years old. His power seems to be more of a curse than a blessing: his body creates and leaks a net of energy that sets those who are unaware of it on edge. He is saved at first by a rogue agent of the government who understands the plight of the homeless children, and then by a small team of government agents who bring him into The Institute: an underground compound set up by the government to teach those with emerging superpowers how to control and use their gifts.

Frank finally has a place where he seems to belong, and a group of friends: Mikey Way, a telepath; Gerard Way, whose body is a vacuum that neutralizes energy; and Ray Toro, a healer. All is far from perfect, however. Frank’s powers and training are put to the ultimate test when he has to fight both evil and betrayal to save not only the world, but also the best family he’s ever known.

synchronicity (cut me open, cut you down) by BackyardOwl 

Party Poison glares like Frank’s mere presence could’ve jeopardized the game. But then the scowl melts off and is exchanged with a smirk.

“I’m so glad you came tonight!” he says in the fakest sugary tone possible. “It’s important for a novice to observe, because you learn so much. And surely you learned from this, because that?” He motions to the arena behind him. “That’s how you play GridSlam.”

Frank is shaking. He’s this fucking close to decking the motherfucker. Novice? He hasn’t been a fucking novice since age fucking 11!

(a story about heated rivalries, mourning your loved ones, and cheating death)

Strange Things Happen At The One Two Points by lovebashed 

1930s. The Dust Bowl. Having no place to turn after his mother's death, Frank joins a carnival. By doing so a chain of events commence, that lead him to Pete. Frank and Pete couldn't be more different, but they both possess strange powers that gain momentum as their journeys unfurl. Both their lives, and that of those they know, will be irrevocably changed before the end. Carnivale AU.

I Believe We're The Enemy by Test_subject_306

"You know what?" Frank snaps, glaring at the person who used to be Party Poison. "You know, sometimes I wish they'd just killed you instead."

#frerard fic recs #mcr rpf fic recs

[breakfastteatime]

Alrighty friends, here we go, Breakfast Tea's Battle Scars Review. Putting it under the cut because spoilers, and also my levels of spiciness are at maximum. Lots of swears ahead! I don't tend to write book reviews (hi, unpublished author over here) but, uh, this is for science!

For the record, I have NO IDEA how these tie-ins are commissioned. So, for example, I don’t know if the author came up with the plot and it was okayed, or if she was told “do something with A, B, C and D and make it a book” so I appreciate that she probably didn’t have as much freedom as a fic writer.

Also, yes, I did get to the point where I was skimming chunks of the book, so if I'm factually wrong, feel free to correct me, but know that it won't make me like the book any better because my issues are layered and numerous👍

Also also, this is pretty stream-of-consciousy so go with me, okay?

Finally, there’s *one* spoiler that I’m guessing will tie into the game re: Greez.

Okay, let’s GOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!

Plot Summary (warning, I haven't done a good job summarising it hahahahahahahaaa)

The plot is - the crew go to break into a Haxion Brood base because reasons. While they're there they find a bunch of stormtroopers, one of whom is actually Fret, who wants to defect because she's sick of the Empire. Merrin is instantly attracted to her which, okay, sure, fine, to the point of becoming completely giddy around her. Also, Merrin's been struggling with her powers because of all her trauma from Dathomir (a very good a legit reason but, uh, didn't we do that with Cal in the game ANYWAY AHEM) but DON'T WORRY, SHE JUST NEEDS TO HAVE SEX WITH THE RIGHT PURPLE LADY BECAUSE SHE’S ANGRY AT THE EMPIRE TOO AND SEX WILL SOLVE ALL OF MERRIN’S WOES AND LITERALLY ALLOWS HER TO ACCESS HER MAGICK AGAIN WOO! Oops, but I'm getting ahead of myself.

Fret then reveals she's not actually a stormtrooper but used that as a disguise to escape because don't you know it, she's got intel that will lead them to something called the Shroud, which will essentially make anyone who has it invisible. Think cloaking technology from Star Trek. That's the best comparison. So, if the rebels have this, they'll be able to undertake sneak attacks, but if the Empire has it, BAD NEWS. ANYWAY, the crew go to the person Fret’s working with who claims he’s anti-Empire too and he’ll use the Shroud for good and everyone agrees they’ll go get the schematics and bring them to him. Off they go and find said Shroud schematics after Merrin totally gets her powers back after receiving some sexual healing (no, really), only to discover the Shroud’s schematics aren’t written down but are instead secure in Fret's oops-not-dead lizard girlfriend Irei's head... and she's vaguely Force-sensitive because OF COURSE SHE FUCKING IS. Oh and the Fifth Brother is here too because he naturally wants the Shroud and zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz.

The Mantis crew are all totally at odds with each other because it turns out despite living and working together for years they’re all after totally different things but have never said anything until now, which would be interesting if Fret wasn't there being all self-insert OC. And anyway, don't worry, the crew gets over it. Oh, and Greez loses an arm protecting Cal and Cere from the Fifth Brother about halfway through.

Uuuuh what else….??? Oh! Right, Fret’s dealer dude. They realise he’s bad, they defeat him. Boom. Can’t be arsed to go into more detail than that (also I was totally falling asleep reading this part, my bad???).

Fret and her ex(?) get back together (kinda??), leave the Mantis after the whole Shroud thing and the Fifth Brother are dealt with, Merrin opts to not go with them and Fret’s like “Oh, yeah, I see what you have with Cal” and Merrin’s like “??? Cal’s like that with everyone.” Interpret that at your discretion.

OH OH OH and Cere totally goes off to find some Jedi circlet thing that is LITERALLY A VIDEOGAME ACCESSORY USED TO BOOST STATS which is (unintentionally??) hilarious but fuck that it’s so completely lost in the rest of it, as is a lot of Cere’s desire to create a legacy for the Jedi.

The Good!

Hooray for LGBTQ+ representation!

Fight scenes are good when the action is happening.

Cere's characterisation is okay???? Like out of all of them, she feels the most in character... kind of???????? I get her motivation, and it feels fairly close to what I think she's gonna be up to in the next game. But her decision to… wait… sorry, this was meant to be positive. ARGH! Alright, let’s move on…

I really like the concept that, since the end of the first game, they’ve all been on the run from the Empire and the Haxion Brood. Excellent concept! I’m guessing Survivor will give us more.

I also really like the concept that the crew all want different things.

SPOILER!!! Greez loses an arm. This scene was pretty good and believable – Greez wants to save Cal and Cere and he makes a terrible sacrifice to do so.

The Everything Else

👎 Wish that LGBTQ+ rep was in a better written book. I do read romance sometimes (or, more accurately, books in which romance occurs) and I am not opposed to instant attraction. But I like it to be a bit less fire-hose-of-HAWTNESS to the face. It basically feels that Merrin has a week-long relationship with someone in which sex solves all her problems??? There's a lot of stuff in this book about why Merrin can't go to her actual friends with this (she's a Nightsister, dammit, and no one can understand how she feels but Fret is angry like Merrin is, therefore instacrush, lust, sex and AAAAARGH), but wouldn’t it be much more narratively satisfying if the people who support her through her troubles are the ones she has long-term relationships with??? Near the end Cal does become this person to her but it feels a bit awkward. Almost like he’s stepping up because Fret left. 👎 Merrin’s struggles here, while absolutely understandable, feel like a rehash of Cal’s entire journey in the game… except Cal sorts his shit out one way, and Merrin shags her way to better mental health. I mean, get yours, Merrin, but it feels like an odd choice, because… 👎 Fret, Merrin's love interest, feels like such an author self-insert it actually made me uncomfortable. Lady, I don't wanna read your fantasies!!!

👎 The plot doesn’t have room to breathe because there’s too much going on. And while I’m here, the Shroud feels completely universe breaking because while the prototype they wind up making is a fake and becomes a bomb, the fact that Irei designed it to hide herself (she’s Force sensitive, remember??!?!?!) means it could potentially work and literally change the Star Wars universe... But Irei’s a total non-entity in the rest of canon sooooooooo this universe breaking macguffin is pointless, making the plot largely pointless??? Or did I miss something when I got to the skimming part? WHATEVER. The Shroud thing… Aaaah, I’ll get back to that later… 👎 There’s too much authorial voice masquerading as the characters. In other words, I didn’t hear the characters, I just heard the author coming through loud and clear. (and okay, yeah, every time I have a character suddenly be British makes me guilty of this too BUT I like to think it’s not as bad as this. HEY! LET ME HAVE MY DELUSIONS ALRIGHT?!). For example, Cal goes off on this whole *thing* about the Fifth Brother's hat, which doesn't feel like him at all. At no point in the game did he go off about Trilla’s helmet (which he compares the Fifth Brother’s hat to) or trade really petty insults. He has his whole bravado thing going on, but not “dude, your hat looks STOOPID.” Seriously, it’s about a page of him being uncharacteristically cocky and sassy (more on Cal’s characterisation later). This authorial voice tendency makes everyone feel the same, especially when you’ll read one thing in Cal’s POV, move onto Greez’s, and Greez will think the exact same thing. There’s very little differentiation in character voice. The banter is BAD.   👎I'm not saying JFO isn't funny because it has some lovely moments (“Wait, do you have feet?”), but they are light touches. This book's 'humour' is like having an anvil dropped on your head. This is the book where subtly came to die until the VERY end where there’s some nice moments with Cal and Merrin… except it’s ruined by Cal CONSTANTLY thinking about how he needs to protect his family… Which brings me onto… 👎 This book is so repetitive. If Cal referred to the others as 'Family' one more time, or someone else said they wanted to make a dent in the Empire’s hull, I'm not sure my e-reader would've survived. I actually counted btw – pg 77 of my ebook edition has the word family on it 7 times. SEVEN TIMES. The word crops up 39 times overall and once I noticed it, I couldn’t stop. The phrase ‘making a dent’ appears 9 times and again, once I noticed it, I couldn’t stop. Oh editor, where are you?

👎 It’s also inconsistent in its storytelling. For instance, there’s a moment where Merrin and Cere go off on a mission together and Merrin reflects on how well they always work together… and then later on she goes off with Fret and is like “It’s so nice to not be alone for a change!!!” And while this is probably in reference to how her and Cal tend to approach missions from different angles (literally – above and below), it’s one of those instances where something here needed editing – e.g. actually Merrin and Cere have never done a mission together, therefore that’s nice, and so when she goes off with Fret she can be like “wow, twice in one day! I could get used to this!” It’s shit like that made the whole thing so frustrating. 👎The structure is bad. Midway through an otherwise good action scene, the POV character will stop to think for so long they would have been killed. It really disrupts the flow of the battle. The pacing just screeches to a halt. It’s the same whenever the characters reminisce on the events of the game, but I’ll come back to that. Stick a pin in it! 👎 The book also does a several days later flashback that wrecks the pacing. We’re at this moment of tension – they’re about to break into a compound but oh no – the access codes from Merrin’s girlfriend don’t work because GASP she lied about abandoning the Empire! Cue tension! Cue drama! Cue… romance in a ‘several days earlier’ flashback. AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAARGH. Honestly, poor, poor Cal the first time he gets to use his own room again. Echoes EVERYWHERE. He’s gonna go as red as his hair every time he looks at Merrin and everyone’s gonna get the wrong idea. Sorry, what was my point? OH RIGHT! Pacing! Pacing BAD.

👎 BEEDEE WUN. Get. In. the. Fucking. Bin. 👎 Speaking of our beloved BD, he is here, but he's referred to as 'Cal's droid' or Cal is referred to as his master, which... no. Absofuckinglutely NO. At one point, Merrin (who presumably has known BD for 2-3 years at this point), thinks of BD as Cal’s ‘strange but cute little droid’. WHAT THE FUCK IS THIS SHIT?! They are friends. Best friends. Cere, when thinking of the crew, her family, states there are "four and a half people" on the crew. BD IS NOT HALF A PERSON, AND ALSO OH GOD THE HISTORICAL CONNOTATIONS OF THIS ARE SO BAD, HOW THE HELL DID AN EDITOR NOT PICK UP ON THIS?!?!?!?

👎Cal's characterisation is NOT good. He is so inconsistent outside of I MUST PROTECT MY FAMILY. MY FAMILY, THE CREW OF THE MANTIS, WHO ARE MY FAMILY. I WILL DIE TO PROTECT THEM, MY FAMILY, THE ONLY PEOPLE LEFT TO ME THAT I LOVE, THE MANTIS CREW. Which, for the record, works as a motivator for him, but not when it’s done with all the nuance of a sledgehammer to the knees. When Merrin's busy having sex in the engine room (you know, where Cal sleeps, the guy with psychometry), he is initially naive to the point of stupidity. “Oh golly gosh, Merrin’s sealed the door, I guess that means her powers are coming back!” He was on Bracca for 5 years. I think he knows what goes on behind closed doors. When he realises what's happened, he is both totally blasé (the Jedi don’t have relationships so he’s never thought about it), and also jealous in a way that can be interpreted in one of two ways, depending on your shipping leanings. He's either jealous because Merrin is HIS woman (oh, no, sorry, I mean GIRL. Fucking HATE it when adult women are called girl), or he's jealous because Fret is inserting herself into HIS FAMILY, THE CREW OF THE MANTIS, THE FAMILY HE WILL DIE FOR when she’s a lying liar who lies. He’s *so* petty he refers to Fret as a ‘gal’ which, again, UUUUUUUUUUUGH. Oh, and he's seen an echo revealing Fret to be a liar, but he's not going to disclose it to the others because he doesn’t want to hurt Merrin when she’s finally happy and able to use her magick again and yet Fret might be about to kill his family, the crew of the Mantis, the people Cal will literally die for. Because they’re his family. PICK A MOOD, CAL. Actually, wait, I’m not done with what’s been done to Cal…

His characterisation makes me want to weep. He gets annoyed with Cere for wanting to find a Jedi relic despite... the entire... first game... being... about... this... exact... thing????? I think the author was going for “well, Cere wants to create a legacy for the Jedi so their history is not lost to time!” whereas Cal wants to (say it with me!) ‘put a dent in the Empire’s hull’ which, okay, there’s an interesting contrast, but Cal is someone who is inherently linked with the past so why is *this* the conflict between these two? It’s not quite working for me, probably because it’s just not central enough to the plot. If *this* was what we dug into, it would probably work really well. Unfortunately, we’re not here for that.

Cal also says shit like “What’s the problem here, team?” like he’s in middle management.

👎 The book is set somewhere between the two games and is purposefully vague, which *would* work if these characters *felt* like they'd spent years together instead of the author telling us they have. Relationship-wise, it feels like we're maybe a couple of months out from the game because the book wastes so much of its word count going back over events from the game… which happened years ago at this point! My guess is it was written with people who hadn't played the game in mind, which again just makes the pacing suffer. Plus, we’ve got five people who’ve lived together for years (they’re a family, a crew, they love each other like family, they will DIE FOR EACH OTHER!!!!!!), and yet all of them see their mission differently. Y’all have been at this for YEARS but it’s only now that you realise you’re not united?! This would work if we were closer in time to the original game… but years down the line?! And again, this is a GREAT concept! SO much to work with there… except we’ve got sexy purple lady and lizard lady in the way of what could’ve been an amazing character exploration of CHARACTERS WE KNOW AND LOVE. STICK ANOTHER PIN IN IT!

👎 The author struggles to integrate game mechanics into a n ovel. BD-1 will just randomly hand Cal stims because hey, I guess that’s what he does in the game????????? ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ 👎 The author hasn’t heard of show, don’t tell. Stop bloody telling me that Cal loves his family and show me – give me a scene where they sit down for a meal together. Give me a scene where Cal sits with Greez after he’s injured. ANYTHING that shows me rather than smashes me over the head with one of the 39 uses of the word family.

👎 Cere really randomly refers to Cal as her Padawan when he’s busy getting his arse handed to him by the Fifth Brother. Cal’s honest, he knows he didn’t beat Trilla because he was stronger than her, but this is YEARS later. Has he not gotten stronger in that time? SIGH. Also, Cal might be mentored by her but he’s not strictly speaking her Padawan? Okay, now I’m just nitpicking… 👎 WAIT, ONE MORE! Cal refers to Master Tapal as Master Jaro. That just irritated me.

How I’d Rewrite It

So, let’s take the pin out and examine the lack of character exploration (except for Merrin who we do get to have a good look at in a weird way). The main issue I have with this book is Fret and Irei get in the way of what could have been a really good character-building piece for the five characters we know and love from the game.

So, wanna know how I’d write it? Simplify and FOCUS:

The Mantis crew are infiltrating a Haxion Brood base because they’ve gotten their hands on a precious Jedi relic that the Empire are also after. While there, Cal and the others find the relic but are attacked by the Brood and the Empire. A defector (Fret) finds them and says the Empire is using the Fifth Brother to hunt for the Shroud’s schematics and its inventor (Irei), who’s in hiding. Fret gives them the name and location of the broker who will pay the crew for retrieving the Shroud and Irei – a man linked to the Rebellion known as Luthen Rael. He’ll also give them Irei’s location. While trying to escape, Fret gets shot and killed by the Brood or the Empire or WHATEVER and the crew feel somewhat obligated to carry on with her mission because the Shroud is a double-edged sword. Cere’s hopes of starting her great Jedi legacy have to be put on hold, Merrin’s still worried about her powers because she’s lost and doesn’t know if she’s getting the vengeance she seeks, Greez thinks finally Cal’s going to stop going for bigger and bigger gambles, Cal’s excited to be doing something really important, and BD-1 is happy to see a new world and meet new people. Also, there’s no breaking into anywhere without him, and they need to move fast.

Great, we’ve got our ticking clock – get the Shroud before the Fifth Brother!

However, because the crew’s been run ragged due to being hunted by the Brood for so long, they’re starting to make mistakes and Cal’s taking bigger and bigger risks with little pay out, so the crew goes into the mission at odds with each other. After BD hacks his way into the systems and locates Irei, Merrin gets her to safety. Cal and Greez get hurt when they go up against the Fifth Brother because Cere, convinced she needs to try and save him from the dark side because he too was once a Jedi like Trilla, tries to save him and it backfires horribly. They all manage to escape and get to the Mantis, fall out because they all want different things. They take the time needed to figure that out and reunite, take Irei to Luthen (they get out just in time when the Fifth Brother comes back again), Cal and Merrin fight him off together because Merrin’s got her powers back because she has a purpose again (working for the Rebellion) and off they go to the next adventure.

Your subplots are essentially the same:

Cal wants to stick it to the Empire and help as many people as he can, while keeping his family safe, however he needs to understand that doing this randomly is essentially pointless (which… okay, I have issues with this too but if I go off on that you’re never getting the next chapter of the Big Fic. I’m working with what I got, friends!!!)

BD-1 is just happy to go wherever Cal goes so long as he gets to scan new stuff and slice new systems!

Cere wants to build and protect the Jedi’s legacy by gathering everything she can of their history. She *is* tiring of the seemingly hopeless battle against the Empire and *wants* to put down roots, and she *needs* to be honest with Cal about this (who, once he got over his “you can’t leave me, Cere!” initial reaction would be absolutely fine with this??? HEY, WORKING WITH WHAT I’VE GOT!)

Merrin wants to regain her powers, and she needs to come to terms with the terrible trauma she experienced, but she can do this not through what is ultimately a fling, but by being honest with Cal, Cere, Greez and BD and working through it with her family. You tie it into the plot by having them working for the Rebellion, which means Merrin finally feels a purpose because it’s through the rebels she sees that she’s not the only one who suffered great loss and, like them, she can do something about it. And hey, maybe she hooks up with Irei in a much subtler and less SEXUAL HEAAAAAAAAAAAALING way because she wants to.

Greez wants to stick with his family, but he needs to be honest with Cal and say if they’re going to keep doing this whole kicking it to the Brood and the Empire, they’ve got to be smarter about it.

Basically, by cutting out all the OC bullshit, you focus on the crew we all know and love from Fallen Order without some rando OC being there to FLY THE MANTIS. Get the FUCK out of there! If I didn’t think Fret was a self-insert before, her getting to fly the Mantis sealed it for me.

There is a GOOD CONCEPT buried in the depths of this book. It’s just, y’know, not to my taste.

Alright, I think that does it for now. PHEW! That feels better ^_^

#battle scars spoilers #the spice must flow

[silverwings22]

Song of the Sea: Chapter 15: The Door Was Slammed Like Thunder

Chapter Warnings: profanity, sexual language, autistic meltdown (shoutout to my bestie for helping me figure out how to describe this. No lie, he's basically Tech with fiber instead of technology), body image issues, accidental self injury Series warning: explicit smut, alien anatomy (it's a monsterfucker fic, guys), major character injury, grief, canon typical violence, autistic meltdowns, and my terrible attempts at Mando'a.

Previous chapter:

Next chapter:

It had gone quiet in the ship as they made their way back to Ord Mantell, the autopilot set and everyone trying to rest the best they could. Hunter was sitting up in a deck chair on the bridge, Omega curled up in his lap and snuggled into the uninjured side of his chest. Wrecker had put a blanket over them so they could rest easy, before he and Echo had gone to the bunkroom and gone to sleep. They both needed it, stress leeching out of their skin until it was all Shiani could taste in the air. She wondered if Hunter’s heightened senses could smell it too, but she wasn’t going to ask any time soon. There was only one ship on the Havoc Marauder she was willing to deal with right now. Currently, he was sitting propped up on her pillow, back to the tailgun seat, with her under his arm and cuddling into his chest while he read something on his datapad. 

This was probably more snuggling than he really wanted from a friend, but the lines kept blurring between them. Sometimes she thought he was about to lean in and close the gap between them entirely. Other times, he looked so uncomfortable at the casual way she offered affection… And there was the matter of what Crosshair had said on Bracca.

“What, you haven’t fucked her yet?” 

Why had the sniper said that? She knew what those words meant, sharp ears picking up on the profanity Echo and Hunter said when they thought Omega wasn’t listening. Echo had be delighted to teach her to swear when she’d asked him what it meant, too, under the condition she find the funniest possible moment to swear in front of Tech. She didn’t think of a reason to swear at that face she adored so much, anyway… but she needed to ask the questions. Otherwise it would eat her alive. 

“Tech?”

“Yes?” His eyes darted immediately from the datapad to her face on his chest. “Everything alright?”

“I have a question. When we saw Crosshair… I know he wasn’t himself, but what he said about me. What was he talking about?” 

Tech’s face immediately went blood red. “He was trying to get a rise out of me. That’s all.” 

Shiani sat up on her knees in front of him. “But why did he ask that? Why would he think you wanted to…” She hesitated, looking at his suddenly panicked face. She considered dropping it right then and there, putting her head back down and apologizing. But the feeling wouldn’t pass. “Why would he think you’d want to… have sex with me? And what did he mean about my tentacles?” 

Tech shook his head. “It is not important. He was being needlessly cruel.”

“I know that. He said I was a freak and made fun of my mouth.” She muttered, squishing her hands over her cheeks. “But he also said you wanted to stick your-”

“Shiani, stop!” Tech snapped, and the siren’s eyes widened. He’d never raised his voice at her before. His face was so red she could feel the heat from a foot away, and his fists had balled into fists by his sides. “We are not discussing this. It is a pointless conversation about something we have already decided.”

“You decided.” She sat back, weight on her feet under her, and crossed her legs and tentacles while searching his face. He wouldn’t look her in the eyes, his own darting behind her to the exit of the tailgun. “... you do want it, don’t you?”

Tech’s eye twitched, and he decided if he ever got a chance he was going to punch Crosshair in the face for this humiliating situation. Shiani was just staring at him, and the spotlight of her blue gaze made him want to claw his skin off. There were too many variables, too much data to sort through. Her expression was frustrated, and he didn’t like her being upset with him. “I am not discussing this.”

“But you toldl your brother you want to fuck me?!” She demanded, the seams of her jaw trembling as she fought to not show exactly how frustrated she was. She wasn’t going to bare her teeth at Tech. Never at Tech. “All this time I thought you didn’t feel like that about me, and I was okay with that. But you do, and you’d tell everyone but me?” 

“I did not tell everyone but you. I was drunk, and accidentally told Crosshair years ago.” Tech’s throat was burning. He never shouted, and definitely not at Shiani, but he couldn’t stop himself. Everything was out of control, including himself, and he needed to get out of the situation before he imploded. “The minute you found out, it started an argument.” He stood up so fast she tried to track him and fell over on her ass. 

The meltdown was burning under his skin like a storm of buzzing Ithorian honeybees, and he had to get away from all the stimulus. Shiani was usually the source of serotonin he could seek out when he was overstimulated, but right now she was the cause of the problem and he had to go. Immediately. When he stepped over her and headed for the cockpit, she scrambled to her feet after him. “Tech, wait!”

“I am aware your interest in me was proximity based, and adding a sexual element without a romantic one is unfair. I cannot give you the latter in a way you deserve. That is why I did not mention it, or intend to ever do so!” He was still yelling, speeding ahead of her. Echo and Wrecker’s heads popped out of the bunkroom and Hunter sat up with an arm around Omega from the bridge as Shiani less-than-gracefully ran after. 

“Why are you so convinced you can’t?!” She demanded, trying to get to the door before he could lock her out of the cockpit. “Tech, just wait-”

She almost made it. Her fingers were an inch from the durasteel when it slammed shut and she ran face first into the door, bouncing off it and back onto her ass. She squeaked, rubbing her flat nose before getting up and tapping the keypad. 

Her access code displayed an error code. He’d locked her out.

She smacked her fist against the door. “Tech! Tech, open the door, please. Can we just talk about this?!” 

There was no answer, and when she tried the code again and it errored out, she hissed angrily at it and showed her teeth. She felt helpless and couldn’t understand what was going on anymore. She loved Tech. Tech clearly cared about her, and wanted her… so why the hell was he so sure they’d fail?! What had she done wrong?!

“Shiani?” Omega whispered, woken up by the yelling and banging. 

The siren turned around, leaning against the wall and sinking to the floor again, hands over her mouth desperately. “I don’t understand.” Her voice was ragged and sad sounding, muffled behind her palms. 

Hunter carefully set Omega down and put his ear against the cockpit door, then attempted his own access code. When it errored out too, he sighed. “Tech, you’ve got until we get to Ord Mantell to reinstate my access.” 

Echo and Wrecker looked concerned as Omega crouched next to Shiani. The poor siren kept trying to cover her face, sobs wracking her entire frame and her tentacles flailing helplessly across the floor. “What happened?” Echo frowned. 

Shiani’s explanation was a muffled attempt that none of them could understand between her hands and crying. Omega gently took her wrists, trying to pull her hands away. “Shiani…”

The siren didn’t have the strength to fight her on it, and revealed a tear-soaked face that had turned blue with embarrassment. The seam of her mouth on either side trembled like a child’s quivering bottom lip, gapping open in places as she struggled to get enough air between sobs. “I don’t understand.” She repeated brokenly, sounding defeated.

Hunter sighed and crouched to give her a hand up, startled when she threw her arm over her face again. “Easy, Shiani. Tech just needs some time and quiet. He’ll be okay.”

Wrecker frowned. “Uh oh. He having a meltdown?”

Hunter nodded. “Sounds like a bad one. I haven’t seen one like this in years…” He tried to gently pry Shiani’s arms down again, but she was stubbornly covering her head. Now that he thought about it, he hadn’t seen a severe meltdown out of his brother since right before that training exercise that Tech had almost drowned during… after that, he just went to another room and came out a little later feeling better. Had Tech been calling Shiani to soothe himself all those times? “C’mon, Shiani. Look at me for a second.”

“No. You said I have a freaky mouth!” She mumbled. “Crosshair did too, and a whole bunch of other stuff, and now Tech’s mad at me and I don’t understand why.” 

Hunter and Echo exchanged looks. “Is that what this is about?” Echo sighed.

Wrecker sighed and looked at Echo. “You just let us know when Tech comes out. Hunter, you got Omega?”

The sergeant nodded, walking Omega back to her room so he could try to get her back to bed. Wrecker just picked Shiani up and tossed the deflated, crying siren on his shoulder to take her back to her own room.

Wrecker tucked her into her blankets and sat beside her, giving her a tissue. “It’s gonna be okay.”

“He’s mad at me. He yelled at me.” Shiani whimpered. “Tech never yells at me…”

“You wanna tell me what happened?” Wrecker asked kindly. “He hasn’t freaked out like that in a long time, so it must have been bad.”

Shiani sniffled, putting her hands on either cheek to cover her trembling jaw. “I asked him about what Crosshair said… and he got mad. But he did wanna… do what Crosshair was talking about with me. I don’t understand why it’s a bad thing… he cares about me, right? And I love him. If he wanted to, all he had to do was ask.” She looked pitiful and tired. “But then he said he couldn’t give me what I deserve? I don’t know what that means or why he couldn’t…”

Wrecker sighed. “Tech’s a workaholic.”

“I know.” She brought her knees up and hugged them, tentacles twining around herself until she was a pile of coils. “What’s that got to do with it?”

“I dunno what siren relationships look like, but the only thing we know is what you see on the holo.” Wrecker explained. “The war made it complicated to see anyone a second time, you know?”

“Bar girls and dancers.” Shiani grumbled, remembering some of Tech’s old stories. It had always made her jealous, deep down, even if she bit her tongue about it. 

“Yeah. But for something real, you’ve gotta pay attention to the person. Tech… well, you know how he gets. I dunno if he could pay attention to you like you’d probably want him to. Plus he hates when stuff changes, and a lot of changes already happened lately.” Wrecker proved once again he was the most emotionally intelligent brother on board, and got right to the point.

Shiani grumbled into her suckers. “Nothing’s gotta get different that he doesn’t wanna do. We already snuggle and spend all our time together. He doesn't have to stop working, or act differently around me… I just wish that when he picked his arm up for me to get under it, I didn’t feel like I didn't belong there. Like that’s someone else's place… even if it’s my favorite spot in the galaxy.” 

Wrecker put an arm around her. “It’ll be okay, Shiani.”

“No it won’t.” She leaned into the comfort, and Wrecker was a good hugger but she still wished it was Tech. “It doesn’t make any sense to me, Wrecker. My hearts tell me one thing, his agree, and then his mouth says something else. Why does it have to be so hard?! Why can’t I just love him?” 

Wrecker patted her back as she cried again, until her entire body went limp from all the heavy weight of her emotions and she was sprawled across him like a sad little doll. “Everything’s gonna work out. Just you wait and see.” He assured her, wrapping her in a blanket like a sushi roll and putting her in her bed. “Tech’s gonna take a little white to get his head back on straight, and then he’ll be normal again. I dunno all the details, but this used to happen a lot when we were cadets. Just give him some time, okay?” 

She nodded unhappily. “... Wrecker?”

“Hm?”

“Does everybody think my mouth is scary? Hunter and Crosshair both said something about it… and I wondered if maybe that’s why Tech didn’t… if I was too weird…” She swallowed hard, eyes watering up all over again. Wrecker was pretty sure she was going to end up dehydrated from all the crying. 

“We’re all weird, Shiani. That just means you fit in with us.” He said gently. “I’m too big. Tech’s too smart. Hunter’s a walking radar. Echo’s half metal. Omega’s a girl. You have a mouth like a flip-top trash can with teeth. It’s okay, we belong together.” He gave his sad sashimi roll friend one last hug and got her a glass of water that he held for her to drink from without escaping the blanket burrito. “Now go to sleep. Everything will be better when we get to Ord Mantell.” 

She wiggled with a squeaky sound. “...I don’t like when he’s mad at me.”

“If I know Tech, he’s madder at himself than you, Shiani.” Wrecker patted the general area of her leg and left her to try to sleep. 

Hunter had fallen back asleep with Omega in her room, the girl tucked up against her side, and Echo was sitting vigil outside the cockpit with his arms folded and his chin on his chest. Wrecker sighed sadly. 

This was gonna be a mess to fix. 

In the cockpit, Tech had disabled every entry code but his own the second the door shut. He’d heard Shiani’s face smack into it and her typing at the keypad, though her voice was muffled by the door. He backed up, dropping into the pilot’s seat and pushing his hands over his ears so he didn’t have to hear her calling his name. 

He felt like he was in a crashing starfighter with dead controls. Everything was spinning around him, and usually when he felt this way he could comm her and everything got better at the sight of those happy blue eyes.

She wasn’t happy with him now. She was demanding answers he didn’t have. He was supposed to have the answers. He was failing, and just like he would if he made the attempt she was asking for. He couldn’t give her the attention she deserved, no matter how much he might want to.

And Manda above, he wanted to. He’d have given just about anything to open that door and pull her inside the cockpit, kiss her, call her his… damn his distaste for change when this was the one thing he’d wanted for years. But if he fucked it up, and all logic said he would, she’d come to resent him. When that happened, she’d leave. He’d lose her, the one thing he couldn’t stand to lose. The only thing in the galaxy he’d ever wanted to keep all for himself was Shiani, and how cruel it was that his very nature was incompatible with his desires. 

He’d been trying to get his ragged breathing under control when he heard Hunter tap the door. “Tech, you’ve got until we get to Ord Mantell to reinstate my access.” 

He didn’t reply, knowing Hunter had surely heard him panting. He and Wrecker had seen this before, when the galaxy got to be too much and Tech’s ability to bear it crumbled. He just needed to get away from all the stimulus and reset himself like a droid in need of service-

His left thigh hurt. Why did- shit. His fist had been slamming down on it for at least a couple minutes, hard enough to bruise and he hadn’t even realized he was doing it. The dull ache was the last straw in his overloaded brain. Too much was touching him. It needed to be gone.

He was slinging his kit off like it was on fire before he knew it, armor scattered around the room with his belt and many external pockets. It wasn’t enough, and the boots and blacks went next. Had he always hated the compression suit this much? Usually it was just a background annoyance, but right now it was the worst thing that had ever happened to him. And he’d been shot more than once. 

The backlight on the console was too bright. Hyperspace was too bright, but he could only turn off the former before he was crawling under the console and tossing his goggles off on the floor behind him. Once he got the humming bulkhead against his bare back and his face pressed into his upraised knees, everything seemed slightly less overwhelming. Only slightly, though. 

He was dimly aware of how he must look, stripped to his grays and curled up in the fetal position under a console like a child throwing a tantrum. He wanted to handle it better, but he just couldn’t. His face was hot with embarrassment, and he kept mulling over Crosshair’s voice and Shiani’s wide-eyed hurt expression. She must have thought he hated her right now… she was soft hearted enough to believe this was all her fault. He’d certainly snapped at her like it was…

He might have shot himself in the foot, slamming the door in her face. What if she left anyway? He couldn’t blame her, finding out her best friend had been refusing her affection but fantasizing about her. He didn’t want to see when her hurt look morphed into judgment… and now that his brothers had heard their fight and brought back Crosshair’s stupid fucking comment, theirs as well. 

He hugged his knees a little tighter and closed his eyes. There were a couple more hours till Ord Mantell, and if his brain was a biological computer… he needed to turn it off and back on again. He needed a nap, and he wasn’t coming out from under the console to do it, dammit.

#explict #original character #clone force 99 #the bad batch #fanfic #tbb tech #star wars #song of the sea

[zhongrin]

G I X Y D

:)

selfship a-z ask game ->

cw. slight angst on "I"

G - Greetings what was their first meeting like?

𝔃𝓱𝓸𝓷𝓰𝓵𝓲 ᡣ𐭩 this fic hahaha

ⲇⳑ ⲏⲇⳕτⲏⲇϻ ᡣ𐭩 at al haitham's grandmother's house, while the adults are chatting over teatime: "what'cha reading?" "…. a book." "…. fair enough. *proceeds to take a book from the shelf and reads it beside him*"

𝔴𝔯𝔦𝔬𝔱𝔥𝔢𝔰𝔩𝔢𝔶 ᡣ𐭩 "*is especially nervous bc oh no he's hot* hello, your grace." "oh, hi. *notices i'm trembling like a pitiful wet dog* haha, relax, i don't bite." "*dies a little inside* y-yes, your grace...."

I - Imagine what do they imagine their futures together like?

𝔃𝓱𝓸𝓷𝓰𝓵𝓲 ᡣ𐭩 all contracts comes to an end eventually, once the conditions are fulfilled ー and the same goes for ours. but until then, he'll just enjoy walking in the long winding path that is an immortal's life. maybe a few kids, watch over our descendants, be awed at the technological advancements of liyue… as they say, when the boat gets to the bridge-head, it will naturally go straight.

ⲇⳑ ⲏⲇⳕτⲏⲇϻ ᡣ𐭩 we're both chronic planners, so we have regular talks about it and therefore a clear plan on what we want or not want to do in the future. married, preferably two kids, a nice pension plan, some savings in the bank, adopt a dog when the kids leave the nest, enjoy retirement reading books and doing whatever nerdy hobbies we want to enjoy.

𝔴𝔯𝔦𝔬𝔱𝔥𝔢𝔰𝔩𝔢𝔶 ᡣ𐭩 this man keeps telling himself not to dream too high lest it all crash down horribly at the end. honestly, with his past i think a part of him desperately wants a happy little family of his own, but the other half is so afraid he'll fuck it all up because he's never really truly experienced familial love. but deep in his heart he really just wants a resemblance of a normal life ー he knows his situation isn't ideal, but he wants a little family he can care for and be surrounded with as his fists get weaker and he passes down the title of the fortress' administrator to a suitable successor.

X - X-ray how do they help the other if they’re sick or tired?

𝔃𝓱𝓸𝓷𝓰𝓵𝓲 ᡣ𐭩 he's big on acts of service and words of affirmation, so he'll brew a pot of osmanthus tea and either sits me down to relax (if i'm tired) or tuck me in to bed (if i'm sick). househusband material, will cook and do all the chores flawlessly. liwei and liwen (especially the former) tries to sneak past him to cuddle with me, but he'd scoop up the littol noodles and distract them somehow ᰔᩚ

ⲇⳑ ⲏⲇⳕτⲏⲇϻ ᡣ𐭩 makes sure to tick all the steps in 'how to care for a sick person' book. but also he takes all the things that his grandparents do for him whenever he got sick ᰔᩚ like making me soup and (if i plead enough times) humming a calming lullaby to help me sleep hehe

𝔴𝔯𝔦𝔬𝔱𝔥𝔢𝔰𝔩𝔢𝔶 ᡣ𐭩 makes sure that i'm taking time off from work, calls sigewinne for a home visit, and most of all, if i have fever, he'd personally use his hand as a cold compress. none of the staffs in the fortress of meropide would ever imagine they'd hear an excuse "sorry, can't come to work today, i need to be my wife's compress." from their administrator but they let him skip work since they know he deserves the rest anyway :3

Y - Yes who would propose? What would the proposal be like?

answered here ->

D - Danger how do they react to finding out the other person is in trouble?

...... *squints* i seem to remember answering a selfship ask game with this prompt last time...

𝔃𝓱𝓸𝓷𝓰𝓵𝓲 ᡣ𐭩 if it's within liyue, i'd like to think that he'd know almost immediately, but if not, it would be a little more complicated. depending on the severity of said danger... hmm.... well.... let's just say he wouldn't take it just lying down....

ⲇⳑ ⲏⲇⳕτⲏⲇϻ ᡣ𐭩 have we ever seen al haitham truly furious or 'panicked' in-game? (mmm that azar cutscene... yummy... but i mean that's him acting mad so does it count??) i'd like to think that he still tries to be rational, figure out a way to handle things efficiently... but push a man hard enough and he'll break eventually. just remember what they say about the quiet/calm ones...

𝔴𝔯𝔦𝔬𝔱𝔥𝔢𝔰𝔩𝔢𝔶 ᡣ𐭩 ohohoho- ahem. i mean, we've seen it in his story quest. man takes action immediately. will throw a few punches if need be. if the duke wants somebody dead, he needs no justification. understood? ˙ ᵕ ˙

#rin answers #rin is having tea with: queen 💙 #rin selfships #zhongrin #meitham #wrin

[thisonesatellite]

Catch up tag

i was tagged by the lovely and incomparable @booksandabeer, who makes my life better and also adds to my never-ending pile of reading and watchlists with a maximum of impunity and a minimum of compunction. 😂😍💖

Last song I listened to: Last Train to Nowhere - Ghost Hounds

If you like blues - check them out. Their sound is straight out of a 1940s oil drum and they're channeling every last dirty guitar riff and bass line through the last six decades from Free to The Black Crowes to Rival Sons. From earlier tag games some of you know that i listen to the gamut from grunge to industrial to hiphop to metal, but sometimes, darlings, it's just gotta be blues.

Last thing I read: The Second Sleep - Robert Harris

He does a lot of alternative-versions-of-history novels, often with a mystery /thriller element, but this was a bit of a letdown, unfortunately. It has an incredibly well-built world with some very thought-provoking elements of how civilization would fall and rebuild after a technological extinction event (not a calamity -- just the absolute dependence of society on not just technology, but the cloud, and the complete ruination its failure and loss brings) --- which is revealed very gradually and organically (initially you think you're reading a normal high-middle-ages story and then, suddenly -- ancient plastic artifacts. It's well done). But the story builds and builds and builds -- and you keep watching the pages dwindle and worry about how he'll wrap this up, and then, basically, he doesn't. It's not an open end, not even unfinished -- but it is intensely dissatisfying and has an air of "my publisher wanted this by tomorrow". It was definitely worth reading once, but it won't become perennial.

Last movie I watched: Dune Part Two

Enough said. 😂 i'm going to go see Civil War this weekend.

Last TV show: The Continental (look, i love everything John Wick, i won't apologize. And this has a lot of really good world building and storytelling ideas so far.)

Which doesn't disguise the fact that i. Am. So. Fucking. Behind. On. EVERYTHING.

EVERYTHING. OMG. i have not enough time in the day for all the stories i want to imbibe and write and also i have to make room for my current Leverage re-binge, because sometimes i need to see a world where justice is A Thing.

Next up: Fallout, obvi. And Ripley. And The Gentlemen. And now that @booksandabeer mentioned it, Shogun has climbed up the watchlist to #4, and 3 Body Problem has entered it.

You guys still want fic from me, or can i stop writing to free up some time? 😂

Last thing I googled: i cannot stress this enough: i DO NOT GOOGLE. i DUCKDUCKGO.

Having said that, the last thing i searched for was: "longest sniper shots in military history". For a throwaway fic line. i'm going to end up on a letter agency watchlist one of these days and they're not going to like my explanation of 'realistic fictional character dialogue'. Are they.

Last thing I ate: Buttermilk. Which is either very cool, or very sad. 😂

Sweet, salty, or savory: Here's the thing: i do not like the taste of sweet. All sweet. Every iteration of sweet. My fave chocolate is 85 - 99% and my actual hell is a candy store. So, like, SAVORY all the way. And then salty, natch.

Sleep: What is sleep? Do not compute. Want it, though.

Currently reading: Rivers of London - Ben Aaronovich

Mostly for phrases like: "Being a seasoned Londoner, Martin gave the body the "London once-over" - a quick glance to determine whether this was a drunk, a crazy or a human being in distress. The fact that it was entirely possible for someone to be all three simultaneously is why good-Samaritanism in London is considered an extreme sport - like BASE jumping or crocodile wrestling."

Really, it's all the fun you can eat.

Absolutely zero pressure tags: @stoneserafina @cable-knit-sweater @ace-in-reserve @ohhsodebonair, @voylitscope

#tag game #ask game #asked and answered #thisonesatellite

[phoebe-delia]

Knew It All Along

I have the distinct honor of getting to write for @m0srael for the wheel of drarry exchange. They requested: "a scenario in which Harry congratulates Draco for a major accomplishment? Something he didn't believe he could do? Just Harry being super in love and proud."

Mose deserves all the world's most wonderful things. (This is not one of those things, because for true wonder you'll have to read Mose's fics and also probably go see the Eiffel Tower, but I've done my best). Enjoy!

Read here below the cut or on AO3!

"Thank you—thank you so much," Draco held the mobile to his ear—grateful the Wizarding world had adopted the Muggle technology so the person on the other end wouldn't see the wild grin on his face. "Yes, I look forward to it. Thank you, again. Alright—yes, you too, goodbye."

He ended the call and let the phone slip from his fingers to fall safely on the couch cushions. He brought his hand to his wobbling smile as his eyes filled with tears.

I did it. I fucking did it.

His throat choked up a bit, and he wiped at his eyes. He picked up the phone again and cleared his throat while he dialed another number, leg bouncing as it rang in his ear.

"Draco! Love, I was just about to call you, I'm at the supermarket and—"

"Harry!" Draco shouted with unrestrained glee. "Harry!!"

"What!?" Harry sounded alarmed. "What happened? Are you okay?"

"I'm great—I'm so fucking happy, Harry, I got—" Draco fought through the tears. "I got it. Harry I got it. They sent and Owl with the contract and called me and I got it—"

The phone disconnected, and Draco stared at it in shock before he heard a telltale pop and whirled around to see Harry looking at him with an ear-splitting grin.

"Draco!! Oh my GOD!!" Harry ran over and swept Draco in his arms, picking him up and spinning him around. "Oh my god, I'm so happy for you!! You did it, baby, you deserve this so much." Harry set him down, pressed a loving kiss to his lips, and cupped Draco's face in his hands. "I'm so goddamn proud of you. What did they say?"

Draco felt the tears start to come again, but he saw the same emotion shining in Harry's eyes. "They said I impressed a lot of people. And they see me doing great things there. And they're excited to have me."

"Of course they are," Harry grinned. "I told you you'd get it! I knew you would, baby. And they should be excited—they're so lucky to have you. You're so smart, and so capable, and so hard-working, and they're going to love you, I just know it."

Draco sniffed and smiled wetly. "Thank you, Harry." He burrowed himself in the warm, comforting safety of Harry's chest as the other man wrapped him up in his arms. They stood there together in a tight hug, Draco's eyes closed and his wet cheek against Harry's soft jumper. Until he remembered—

"Harry, where are the groceries?"

Harry looked confused a moment, and then his face melted into annoyance. "Damn it, I apparated straight here. I left the cart—" he looked away and flushed.

Draco felt his lips curl into the beginning of an amused smile. "Where?"

Harry bent his head. "In the middle of the store. Full of groceries."

Draco threw his head back and laughed, and Harry frowned for a moment before he gave in and started chuckling too.

"I'll order takeaway," Draco reached for the phone, but Harry stopped him.

"Don't—let me take to you to dinner. To celebrate."

Draco grinned slowly. "Yeah?"

Harry nodded. "Yeah, of course. You know why?"

Draco smirked, stepping back into Harry's space. "Why?"

Harry pressed their foreheads together, looking Draco in the eye. "Because you fucking did it."

#drarry #draco malfoy #harry potter #draco and harry #harry and draco #draco x harry #harry x draco #draco/harry #harry/draco #draco malfoy and harry potter #harry potter and draco malfoy #draco malfoy x harry potter #harry potter x draco malfoy #hpdm #drarry squad #drarry fic #drarry fanfic #drarry fanfiction #drarry ficlet #drarry drabble #drarry fandom #hp fic #hp fanfic #hp fanfiction #hp fandom #harry potter fandom #harry potter fic #harry potter fanfic #harry potter fanfiction #phoebe-delia

[carcrash429]

Fic Rec Friday

(template acquired from @sugaraddictarchangels)

A Good Feeling by dentalfloss [no tumblr] (Words: 81,313 - Chapters: 10/10)

Rated: Teen+

Warnings: None

Relationships: None

Summary:

“You work for SHIELD” Barton spat the agencies title at Coulson as though it were the nastiest cuss he knew. “We have nothing more to talk about.” Which was all good and fine, except-

“I have some things to discuss with you, actually,” Tony said and Clint’s bruised and swollen gaze turned towards him. “Many things. Nice things,” he tagged on when Clint’s gaze narrowed darkly. The kid might be passing out in slow motion before them but Tony was well aware he was still a threat and he made no move to approach. “Let me help,” he insisted anyway.

Or: the one where Clint may be a pretty formidable assassin for hire, but he was broke and his brother needed help he couldn’t afford so he needed a legitimate job for a little while. How fortunate Stark Tower was hiring.

Notes + Quotes:

Look okay, at this point y'all know I love a good Clint-centric gen fic and this is actually one of the best ones out there.

the plot is interesting the side characters are great  the characterization of Clint is *amazing*  I ADORE this characterization of Clint. Holy. Shit. I love a good story about competent Clint and honestly? Competent Clint Shmompetent Clint, this is tagged with BAMF Clint and Genius Clint and that's almost underselling it?? He is PHENOMENAL.

He steals textbooks to read for funsies:

“Technology, Science, and Common Sense,” he read the title aloud, and flipped the cover open to scan the index. This looked like it had a lot of math and mechanics. His favourite kind. He kicked his boots up on Barney’s bed and began.

He does absurdly cool fighting moves:

“Did you just deflect the bullet back at him with your nunchucks?” Tony demanded, because there was no way this guy was fast enough—

“He had tells as big as your ego,” Ronin said, re-holstering the weapon and looking at his arm briefly, like he was casually checking that it was still attached before he moved on."

He's allllllllways paying attention:

Sam pointed out, thinking about how the guy, who might be twenty, had kept an eye on them the entire time they’d been within line of sight. Tony might not have noticed, but Sam was highly trained, and he’d seen the way they’d been checked out through the reflections in the kitchen appliances.

He's a sassy little shit:

“Yes, the blinding-beacon of Truth, Justice, and the American Way ran into this bathroom, a room with only one exit, to escape his stalkers. Clearly he’s a paragon of strategic planning.”

He's righteously grumpy and defensive:

“We thought we saw Steve Rogers—” She started, and Clint cut her off.

“Considering this is the second time I’ve met you, and both times you’ve been trying to find the guy after nine at night, I think you should take some time to deeply consider that you’re bordering on stalking tendencies and recognize that that is both a crime and fucked-up.”

I don't have a description for this one it just makes me laugh:

“So, a person with a bow and arrow showed up and killed Gamashin, basically saving all of your lives, and then ran like hell because, what, he doesn’t actually like us?”

And he is desperately, DESPERATELY, in need of no-strings-attached kindness someone please give this man a hug:

“No. You can tell her yourself if you come for dinner,” Anton suggested. Clint tripped over nothing. Dinner? Like at someone’s house? They must be crazy inviting him. Or maybe they were contract killers playing the long game. Who also knew he’d one day end up working at Stark Tower. They could be pre-cog contract killers.

Also the reveal at the end where they all find out who he is / what he's been up to is so, SO satisfying just *chef's kiss*

#fic rec #clint barton #hawkeye #ronin

[panthera-tigris-venenata]

I saw you request silly Descendants prompts so~

a favorite fic of mine is this drabble exploring the idea that everyone THINKS harry hook can't read, tell time, count, etc.... but he actually just has really bad vision. so, prompt: he gets contacts in Auradon and has the time of his life messing with everybody

So, yeah. shortsighted Harry. Also Harry/Uma, because why not, and CJ for some chaos.

It’s the first Remedial Goodness class for the Lost Revenge crew; CJ tagged along to annoy Fairy Godmother a bit, like you do.

Also lol, I just realized I didn't read the prompt fully, but, oh, well. The spirit is here.

I hope you like this anyway!

They are sitting in Remedial Goodness Class, a class that the Fairy Godmother insists on teaching, as if she wasn't one of the people who stuck innocent children on a prison Island for two decades and let them rot.

Whatever.

It's not like Harry can be bothered to listen, anyway.

Besides, CJ has the participation part of class covered. It would be fun, watching her drive FG bonkers, but really, Harry has way more important things to ponder.

Namely, the fact that with Isle children, their parents were released too, and this school has no fucking defence mechanism.

At least there are plenty of escape routes, though. Including just dropping from the windows to the lush bushes below.

He’d still prefer, you know, having a decent chance of fighting if any of the old psychos decides that getting a go at their suddenly free children is a fun pastime, like they did for the past twenty years, or just decides to get their revenge on the heroes, as they dreamed all the time.

Harry has not yet given up his dreams of vengeance on the Auradon adults himself.

Anyway.

He glances out of the window, but he sees no movement in between the vibrant green of the gardens and the painfully bright splotches of colour, which doesn’t mean much, really.

On the Isle, he had the routines of the most dangerous ones memorised: He knew when Maleficent liked looking over the market and when Ursula was dead to the world, watching her favourite telenovelas. He knew the route Dr. F took from the arcade to the Dragon Hall, and the allies his father’s crewmen liked to occupy when drunk.

He could help with keeping his crew safe like that.

If only there was a way…

Maybe one of the Facilier sisters could ask their cards what are the adults up to?

Maybe there would be some kind of tracing technology the de Vils could put together. Sure, it might be a suicide mission to tag the adults with these, but Harry has pulled off worse stuns in his life.

„Mister Hook!“ FG’s shrill voice pulls him out of his thoughts. She sounds annoyed for some reason.

Well, she has been attempting to hold a civilised discussion with CJ for most of the lecture, so that would explain it.

He sends a small smirk in his sister's direction: From her relaxed pose, he guesses the discussion was highly amusing. For her.

„Mister Hook!“ FG speaks again. Not like he cares.

„Yeah?“

„Could you answer the question instead of your sister?“

„…Which question?“ he asks, completely innocent, as if he merely got lost in CJ’s rambles. 

He hears FG take a sharp breath and Uma stifle her laughter; he flashes a quick smile in her direction.

„Mate,“ whispers Gil, „She has already repeated it to you three times. You were just completely zoned out.“

Well, can you blame him?

„The second time made even Uma look up.“ 

Yeah, makes sense. Uma also has better things to do than listening to frankly delusional old fairy.

Uma leans over Harry to tap on Gil’s hand three times, which is code for „Not the time.“

One tap means „Danger, prepare to fight.“. Two are „Run like hell.“ You know, the important things in life.

„Just read it,“ says said old fairy, completely resigned to her fate by now. Sucks to be her, really.

Harry glances towards the blackboard, which appears as black as at the beginning of the lesson, even though there is probably some nonsense written all over it by now. If he squirms his eyes, he can make out vague  white squirmy lines.

But also… He doesn’t feel like answering stupid bellitling „Goodness“ questions right now. Or ever.

So he smiles at the esteemed Headmistress of Auradon Prep and states: „I can’t read.“

Pity he can’t have the full delight of her aghast expression, but he is sure someone will recount to him later. Besides, her astonished tone and back-as-a-board posture say a lot.

„What- What do you mean you can’t read?“ she asks, successfully shocked out of her skin. He hears rustle and clangs as someone – probably Desiree and Gonzo – inconspicuously exchange some cash.

Gil breathes in to answer, probably to explain that Harry can read when he sees the text, but Harry quickly taps his arm three times. Not the time.

„Precisely what I said,“ he states, „Have you not noticed yet? My, my, what kind of headmistress you are…“ 

His crew laughs around him and CJ cheers. She also bolts from her seat to get a high five as dear old FG sputters with rage.

„That’s unfortunately true, Fairy Godmother,“ chimes up Uma, always up for some mischief, fake sorrow in her voice, „You know, education wasn’t exactly the first priority on the Isle of the Lost…“

As if Uma would ever stand for illiterate first mate, Harry smirks, before schooling his expression to match her tone.

Around the room, the other pirates support his claim, in increasingly ridiculous ways:

„We were but mere orphans, desperate to survive another day,“ exclaims Bonny dramatically. Harry knows for a fact that her mother is alive, well, and actually quite decent. Not that it matters, though.

(Fairy Godmother protests that old Captain Hook is alive and well, as if Harry didn’t know that and as if anyone was paying attention to her.)

„To be or not to be, that was the question of our days,“ agrees CJ solemnly. At least she is having fun, unlike FG, who didn’t even notice the youngest Hook just quoted Shakespeare at her.

„We learned the most excruciating ways to best good fairies, not how to read poetry.”

„How to fight for our lives, not how to write essays about the importance of true love.“

Though to be fair, they were once forced to write an essay explaining why „Love“ is the worst thing that could happen to a Villain. The crew had fun comparing their ridiculous outtakes.

Finally, Uma finishes the ruckus: „So, you see, Fairy Godmother. Harry never learned how to read. Never learned how to count.“

The room explodes with gleeful cackles again, and Harry finishes his line, only for himself and Uma to hear. „-’cos I’m the number one.“

„Children!“ scolds Fairy Godmother, completely out of her depth by now. They don’t tone it down, though, not really. Not until Harry starts speaking:

„Uma could teach me, though,“ he says slyly, „Couldn’t you, Captain?“

„Sure I could,“ she agrees, „What do you think, Fairy Godmother?“

Harry really hopes dear FG will take the bait. What kind of headmistress has the time to teach teenage pirates how to read, really? Particularly when the pirate in question hates her with burning passion still?

„Yes!“ cheers CJ, „Uma could do that! It will be like a-“ 

Harry throws his empty notebook at her and CJ barely dodges. She doesn’t stop her rapid-fire flow of encouragement of the idea, though.

At least she didn’t finish „It will be like a date,“, that minx…

„I…,“ stammers Fairy Godmother, „Yes, I could allow that. Miss Uma, would you be so kind?“

„My pleasure,“ smirks Uma. There will be nothing akin to education going on, they both know it. Just some alone time…

CJ cheers again, but Harry has run out of notebooks to throw at her, and he is not throwing a knife at his little sister. Well, not when the knife would get immediately confiscated, at least. So he borrows Gil’s notebook. 

„Excellent,“ FG seems to be regaining her footing, and that simply wouldn’t do. How to throw her off again?

„Mister Hook will be tested on his reading abilities in two weeks time,“ she continues, „Understood?“

Oh, but that will be no problem.

„Savvy,“ Harry answers, barely resisting the urge to roll his eyes.

And meanwhile:

„Fairy Godmother, how does the GPS system work?“

Judging by the snickers around him, well, if they keep on going like this, they will get this woman to a mental hospital before the end of term. Speaking of which…

He interupts her mid-sentence to ask whether there are any certified mental hospitals in Auradon, and Uma forces her to actually answer this question instead of getting back to the Remedial Goodness nonsense.

#disney descendants #harry hook #shortsighted Harry Hook #Uma descendants #CJ Hook #gil descendants #Uma’s crew #Fairy Godmother #fanfic #idk people #but the second part is fun #so enjoy