#// Alternately: my life remains in shambles

[panakinthedisco]

As the world lay in shambles by the sudden outbreak of a disease called cordyceps brain infection, society is broken, the government is on the rubble where a world became lawless and violent. But even chaos is prevalent, some are persistent to find a vaccine, though it is deemed impossible and hopeless due to the overwhelming mutation.

Kannika Suriya-Neuman, the only child of two known Medical professors took part with the cause - becoming the first pioneers who tried to find the vaccine, ten years after the outbreak. With her parents, Phillip Neuman and Anna Suriya, the tumultuous journey to find a cure becomes, metaphorically speaking, the search for a holy grail that can end the virus once and for all. Their team that consisted of surviving doctors and medicine majors from different prestigious universities across America took part in a seemingly impossible cause.

Even though there is progress, a group of syndicates that are formed has other things in mind. For years living in a world without law or governance, the idea to take power in a lawless country will be gone if a vaccine is created. The Citadel whose ideology is protecting the society they created is now in a threat to the vaccine so they did the unthinkable, pulverize the whole operation.

By the massacre of Kannika's colleagues along with her mother who sacrificed her life by saving people, the search for the cure becomes thin up until a revolutionary group by the name The Fireflies steps in to protect the remaining survivors.

But the quest of the cure becomes hopeless for another ten years. Kannika, now thirty eight years old, is beginning to believe that the world she's living in is going to rot along with the decaying corpses of the clickers and runners. Until, Marlene, one of The Fireflies, tells her about a young girl who might be the answer to the prolonged cure.

Hope begins to shine in the horizon as Kannika sets the journey to find the young girl who is said to be immune from the virus. In between crossroads and that small hope that she hid in her heart, a man with a cold heart comes to her with tenderness and begs to be indulged by that love that he couldn't even remember. Kannika finds herself with Joel Miller, a man whose life is enveloped in regrets and sadness. But Kannika is in thin ice as Joel would take a bullet for the young girl that he grows to love as his own child.

A child over the future of many generations.

While for Kannika with a gun in her hand pointing to her lover, she silently hopes from the darkest corner of her mind that Joel should've pulled the trigger.

pairings: joel miller x original character / original characters x canon characters

warnings: major character deaths (oop!), smut, violence, brief mentions of SA (will state in the chapter) and gore.

author's notes: this is a slowburn romance for kannika and joel. also, as much i want to make this as a reader x joel, kannika neuman has a special in my heart soooooo sorry y'all! this fic will stick to some parts of the canon (series and video game) but act one and act two is full canon divergence. basically making my own lore.

other notes: most of the graphics of this fic are made by me unless its stated.

translated version/s: i've got a spanish translation for this fic in wattpad. you can check it out in here [CLICK HERE]

collateral damage gif banner: made by @alderaandors <3

AVAILABLE ON WATTPAD & AO3

ACT ONE | INFERNO (sets in ten years after outbreak)

001 . . . . fungi

002 . . . . sense of normalcy

003 . . . . happy anniversary!

004 . . . . breaking dawn

005 . . . . the holy grail

006 . . . . alternate universe

007 . . . . i am, i am, i am

008 . . . . all things must pass

009 . . . . sense of kindness

010 . . . . whiskey and fate

011 . . . . machiavellian

012 . . . . a little light

013 . . . . tortured soul

014 . . . . the punisher

015 . . . . not now, not ever

ACT TWO | PURGATORIO (sets in eleven years after outbreak)

016 . . . . a path ahead

017 . . .. happiness is a warm gun

ACT THREE | PARADISO (sets in twenty years after outbreak)

SEE BELOW THE SPOTIFY PLAYLISTS OR YOU CAN VISIT MY ACCOUNT.

☆ MASTERLIST | NAVIGATION | SOCIALS | SIGN OFF BANNER MADE BY. @ALDERAANDORS ☆

[wordsandrobots]

This week I appear to be thinking about my motivation for writing.

Specifically, I should say, for writing fanfic, although there is crossover with my forays into original works. And I started by thinking about the various times I've lost motivation for various projects, because the negative is occasionally a useful way of gauging the positive.

My Fullmetal Alchemist 2003 series Life After Equivalence represents the longest-running stretch of fanfic writing I've engaged in. I started it during my second year at university, right after watching the anime for the first time. A continuation of that continuity post-Conqueror of Shambala, it started out with what in retrospect was a fairly clunky set of plot-devices, but I'm rather proud of where it went. While recognising what an excellent piece of story-telling the manga is, I've always found more to engage me in the anime's adaptation. I think Dante is a fascinatingly shallow villain and what it does with the homunculi is deliciously horrific (in the genre sense). I greatly enjoyed think about where everyone could go next, particularly the more world-weary anime!Ed, and inventing new supporting cast for them as well as bringing more manga characters into the mix (sometimes in quite twisted ways). So much so that I was writing new fics for it as recently as 2021.

The problem is, working on an idea for over a decade and a half means that you're not the same person you were when you started. I have learnt and grown a lot in that time, as a writer and in general. I gradually became increasingly at odds with the original concept for where that story was heading and as much as I tried to change direction and salvage the plot, I don't think I can. Not comfortably. The sense that what I'd started was riddled with conceptual mistakes has gotten stronger and stronger, making it very hard to pick up again. I think as an author, you have to have confidence in your ideas, to properly sell them, and with this, I've lost that.

With my most fully-formed Transformers epic, This Is How It All Began, the explanation has more to do with a gradual failure of interest in the source material. It's not that I was ever beholden to canon with that story; it was an attempt to retell things using the elements I really liked, my own personal 'G1' redux. But as the Transformers franchise has ossified around that first generation of characters to the exclusion of any real innovation, there doesn't seem much point continuing. I can't explore someone else's worlds without them engaging me and Transformers increasingly didn't.

Nor can I write from spite, when the source 'lets me down'. Untitled Alternative Episode Nine represents me grappling with where I wanted the Star Wars sequels to go. I love The Force Awakens and The Last Jedi, as a story in which characters who think they know what their role is gradually learn better as the whole thing goes careering off the rails. There was tremendous potential in their tale, and sadly I knew at the time it would likely be squandered. But I didn't realise when I started working on this fic that The Rise of Skywalker would be such a sprawling shambles, about-facing on the promise of finally pushing Star Wars beyond rigidly defined stock arcs so hard, it felt like poor comedy. Increasingly, my story became framed by repudiating that re-enclosure, by the desire to get it right.

And while I still think my version -- where the First Order rips itself to bits in a power struggle between Kylo Ren and General Hux, where the Knights of Ren are actual characters, the remaining lost Jedi students, and Rey, Finn, Po and Rose all get the chance to work towards a future free of the endless, circular struggle set by the 'main characters' of the galaxy -- is a better story than the one we got, it doesn't change anything. I'm not really fixing anything and by defining my work as *not that*, I limit my own joy in it. I'm not in conversation with something I love but rather shouting into the void, to no great end. Once again, I couldn't see the point in continuing. Especially with the ongoing Star Wars media increasingly feeling like an exercise in box-ticking, as bad as anything the old Expanded Universe ever produced for sheer pointlessness. At least the older spin-offs occasionally got super weird. Live-action cartoons do not really offer space for that, sadly.

Then there are the times my motivation has been directly killed. Chris Chibnall's tenure as show-runner on Doctor Who, abruptly ending my longest-lasting fandom for me, as another promise of widening potential was squandered on dull, miserable, derivative ideas. That one Captain Harlock fic I was having a lot of fun with until someone came along to be extremely pedantic in the comments and struck a nerve so hard, I flat-out lost all the enthusiasm I had for the idea. Bad experiences that meant continuing or going back was too hard to contemplate. This is how it goes sometimes.

So. Invert all that:

Enthusiasm for an idea -- and more importantly, confidence in it.

Positive engagement, the feeling that I have something to say and that it is worth saying about this thing.

The sense I am not fighting the source material but playing with it, spinning it out in interesting ways, making merry with the rules of the canon.

And I can't count out the benefit of having good interactions over what I write; for all I am a fundamentally compulsive writer, I delight in knowing my work can touch others, in being told that it is good and a worthwhile expenditure of my effort.

All stuff I already knew, I think. But it's sometimes worth reflecting on what pushes you to create art and this -- this all makes sense.

Now if I could just leverage these things at will, I'd be unstoppable.

[shay-the-maker]

Intro Post

Hello and welcome! I'm Shay (he/they/it). A variety artist, struggling writer, puppy cat-boy, and Maker-God of the world Exalos.

Tag and ask game friendly! Asks and conversation encouraged! I am slow to respond sometimes, but I try to answer what I can. I am also far more scared of you than you are of me. Thanks social anxiety!

I’m currently focused on my WIP called “Dread Secrets,” but I have several other WIPs in various stages of development (mostly in the “vibes” stage, but they count!). Dread Secrets is my first attempt at planning a story with the intent of actually finishing the story someday. Volume of projects is not indicative of me being put together, it is quite the opposite.

Tags listed in ~ABOUT~ tab of blog.

~WIPS~

This part will be edited as I work on these stories, so there'll eventually be more information to read here.

Dread Secrets (Current WIP)

Moodboard: (images from Pinterest)

Genre/Rating: Medieval Fantasy, mystery, action, romance, adventure, found family/family bonds, Mature

TWs: blood, gore, violence, body horror, war, death, murder, mental/psychological/emotional manipulation

POV: Third person limited

POV Characters: Xiang, Neph, Ansellus Kestrel, Celesto, [redacted]

Progress: First draft, incomplete timeline, almost finalized plot

Summary:

Fifteen years ago, King Ansellus Kestrel of the Wisea Kingdom made a last stand against the Dread Queen Celesto, his first love, as the benevolent kingdoms banded together to lay siege to the aptly named Dread Kingdom. Against all odds, Celesto was defeated and her kingdom fell to ruin. Celesto's final moments were preserved as the Ancient of the Forest transformed her body into a dark and twisted tree, her face contorted as her rage-filled scream grew silent in the midst of the burning remains of her kingdom.

They had been in love; however, in four, short years the life and love they shared had fallen to shambles. Celesto had betrayed not only Ansellus and the Wisea Kingdom, but their friends and even her own goddaughter, Hibiki, who, even now, clings to her father to feel safe. How did it come to this?

Xiang, a student of Prophis, attempts to aid a friend cursed to a wakeless sleep as Grim Twilight Ivy grows around and from his body. Xiang's good intentions are rewarded by a similar curse being placed on him. A strange mark over his heart and plagued by nightmares of being hunted by the Dread Queen Celesto in the Dread Kingdom's ruins, Xiang leaves the ancient towers of Prophis in the hopes of breaking the curse before he succumbs to his curse with a protector by the name of Malianna Ash, a half-immortal from the Kingdom of Rosha.

The two are joined by the strangers Neph and Celine while travelling through the independent city of Rudrian and Kubo Hibiki at the Golden Palace of the Wisea Kingdom. With no alternative, they must travel to the Dread Forest, enter, and find the ruins of Celesto's Dread Kingdom. Is Celesto still alive? Or could someone else be behind the curse placed on Xiang and his friend? Will Xiang find the answers? Or is his fate to succumb to the curse in the Dread Forest and never return to his former life?

Neph, a half-immortal from the independent city of Rudrian lives comfortably with their caretakers. Distant memories of horses made of snow and houses with beautiful purple flowers growing around them is all they remember of their birthplace. Neph hopes to, someday, ascend to immortality to reunite with their immortal mother in Elorial, the realm of immortals.

They seize their chance after bumping into Xiang when the Prophis student is separated from Malianna in the crowds of Rudrian. Through the use of incessant begging and a sprinkle of charisma, Neph manages to get permission to join the two strangers on their quest. Celine, the most soft-spoken of Neph's caretakers, joins the group as well, having been at Neph's side since they were young.

Can this quest be enough to bring Neph to the next step of their ascention? Can these strangers become the key to reuniting with Neph's enigmatic mother? Perhaps they could aid Celine in recovering her lost memories from before joining Neph and their other two caretakers?

Cast: Xiang, Malianna Ash, Neph, Scy Drakenscale, Phelan Noctus, Lorne, Kubo Hibiki, No Eiko, Celine, Scorch (Malianna's unicorn), Flit (Malianna's magic pigeon), Celesto Krone/Kestrel (Dread Queen), Felix Kestrel, King Ansellus Kestrel, Queen Tianna Kestrel, Artos Oak, Kubo Mai, Ling Yazhu, Bao Mingmei, Bao Yating, King Snydus Ash, Silas Ash, Draco, Dissonantia, Bryn Creek, Sasha Creek, Leandra Ash, Xaver Ash, Ferna Krone, Obelus Krone, Imposa Kestrel, Mightrus Kestrel, Ling Chao, Bessarion Thorne

Gods/Ancients/Primordials of note: God of Memories, God of Sanctuary, God of Guardians, God of Passion, God of Vengeance, God of Lore (Lorne), Ancient of Wisdom, Ancient of Knowledge, God of Dreams, The 11 Immortal Villains (See: Corruption of Heroes), Ancient of Forests, Primordial of Death, Primordial of Life

Song Association: Guns for Hire by Woodkid + What Could Have Been by Sting and Ray Chen

Excerpt: (from chapter 1)

 “Xiang.”

    Hearing his name uttered by the Dread Queen sends a shiver down the young man’s spine and he turns to look at her again. In the seconds he’d taken his eyes off her to yell for his friend, she’d closed the distance entirely to stand almost nose to nose with him. Her red and blue eyes staring right into his own coal black without the skull to create a buffer between the two. Xiang is startled to find just how unnatural Celesto’s red eye is. The whites appear to be bloodshot, though only light red, her iris blood red. Rather than being dark, almost black, her pupil is white and shaped like that of a deer’s. He stumbles back and nearly falls before Celesto’s hand grips Xiang by the collar of his middle robes, her fist pressing against his chest thanks to how she’d grabbed him. Her hand is clean of any blood it had just a moment ago, though the rest of her remains covered in someone else’s blood.

    Xiang almost grabs Celesto’s wrist instinctively, to catch his balance, before bringing his hands defensively over his face and chest. His heart beats erratically under the knuckles of her fist as he shuts his eyes tight, preparing for the worst.

Tinnitus:

(probably a series, connected to Heir of Chaos, pt 1)

Moodboard: (images from Pinterest)

Genre/Rating: Fantasy, modern setting, double reality, suspense, adventure, Young adult?

TWs: None yet

POV: Unknown

POV Characters: Gong Jiahao, Soul Warren, Maddox Elijah, Jung Taeil, Fable Book, Kace Asher, Nym Cardinal, Zhang Remy

Progress: Vague ideas, loose plot, vibes

Summary:

Jiahao, Soul, Maddox, Taeil, Fable, Kace, Nym, and Remy befriended each other while in high school and began using a secluded corner of the local scrapyard as a hideout. Kace became friends with Jiahao, Taeil, and Maddox during a failed dance tryout, suggesting the hideout location and getting permission from the owner as he worked at the scrapyard part-time. The friends spent their free time practicing dancing, singing, and helping one another in creative and academic pursuits. Kace, Taeil, and Maddox would meet a younger boy named Remy while buying some snacks from Maddox's uncle's corner grocery store and invite the younger boy to join them. The four older boys would take the younger under their wing and invited him to join and use their hideout with them. Nym and Fable would join the group next, two quiet friends who were drawn to the larger, more outgoing group who showed no fear nor shame in being themselves. Soul, ruled by his own lists and routines, would be the last to join the group since he went to a different school. He had been taking a short-cut past the scrapyard when he heard the others playing on the other side of the fence and opted to give in to his curiosity. Not having any creative extracurricular activities in his school and parents who discouraged nonacademic study, Soul would find a joy and freedom he hadn't experienced before. , Here, they all became a group of diverse dreams and passions that were able to mesh well enough to give them the idea of uniting to form a self-reliant group with a single goal.

Several years would go by, the oldest among them (Jiahao and Soul) now in their final year of high school with Nym and Fable being bumped up a grade to join Kace, Taeil, and Maddox in second to last year. The group grew together, Remy being treated as a close friend of them all as well as everyone's younger brother. Tensions that arose among the older ones were hidden from Remy as the others recognized his soft heart and never wanted to worry him. One day, while in their hangout, Remy discovers a red book that gives the boys the ability to walk through mirrors and enter a vast, empty dimension. They are approached by a stranger who invites them to use the space however they'd like. If they can imagine it, they can do it.

Not long after the group begins using the dimension, they are shocked to discover copy versions of themselves that have been created out of the passion and determination of each of them during their time in the dimension. The foundations of the group begin trembling when Remy suddenly refuses to return to the dimension, insisting they were spending too much time there when they hadn't fully read the red book and its rules.

Temptation. Obsession. Numbness. Disappointment. Fear. Selfishness. Anger. Loneliness.

Cast: Gong Jiahao, Soul Warren, Maddox Elijah, Jung Taeil, Fable Book, Kace Asher, Nym Cardinal, Zhang Remy, Primordial of Chaos, Ace Siren, Mirroh, Pavel Nox, Rune Coin, Xander Coin, Ambrose Song, Shen Song

Song Association: Illusion by Ateez

Excerpt: Nothing written yet.

Heir of Chaos:

(probably a series, connected to Tinnitus, pt 2)

Moodboard: (images from Pinterest)

Genre/Rating: Fantasy, modern setting (+medieval setting?), double reality, suspense, adventure, mystery, Young adult?

TWs: None yet

POV: Unknown

POV Characters: Deimos Muse, Baek Kwan, Adriel Sky, Warrick Red, Zhang Remy

Progress: Vague ideas, vibes

Summary:

Not worked on, no plot only vibes.

Cast: Deimos Muse, Baek Kwan, Adriel Sky, Warrick Red, Zhang Remy, Gong Jiahao, Soul Warren, Maddox Elijah, Jung Taeil, Fable Book, Kace Asher, Nym Cardinal, Primordial of Chaos, Ace Siren, Mirroh, Pavel Nox, Rune Coin, Xander Coin, Ambrose Song, Shen Song

Song Association: Frost or Crown by Tomorrow X Together

Excerpt: Nothing written yet.

Corruption of Heroes:

Moodboard: (images from Pinterest)

Genre/Rating: Medieval Fantasy, mystery, action, adventure, found family, Mature

TWs: blood, gore, violence, body horror, war, death, murder

POV: Unknown

POV Characters: Unknown

Progress: Vibes, vague ideas, ending planned (rip)

Summary:

A story that follows the formation and eventual fall from grace of the Eleven Immortal Evils of the Dread Forest. A time when the citizens of Rusa and Centuros were ruled by Dissonantia Krone and her husband Meniq Krone, before the two's ascension to the God of Trickery and Discord respectively. Before the Dread Forest gained its name and the Ancient of Forests was worshipped by both Rusa and Centuros. When the Primordial of Life had curved horns upon its head and Immortals walked the same earth as mortals. How the Eleven Immortal Evils came to be, their rise to heroes to thier downfall of being known as the Eleven Evils. How the Dread Forest came to be and how the Eleven Evils became imprisoned in the forest.

Cast: Lux (placeholder name), Shysie Crimson, Kallista Rose, Gwin Snow, Faraph Snow, Echo Song, Vasha Alice, Eilla Alice, Whisper Song, Nyssa Song, Leucis Bard, Valrus Bard, Dissonantia Krone, Meniq Krone, Primordial of Chaos, Primordial of Life, Primordial of Death, Ancient of Forests

Song Association: It Seemed the Better Way by Leonard Cohen or Hunt You Down by The Hit House and Ruby Friedman

Excerpt: Nothing written yet.

Finding Family:

Moodboard: (images from Pinterest)

Genre/Rating: Slice of Life, Medieval fantasy, comedy, pg/pg 13

TWs: None yet

POV: Unknown

POV Characters: Unknown

Progress: Vibes, Vague ideas

Summary:

Not worked on, no plot only vibes.

Cast: Amphon, Yvonna, Pangari, Demarcus, Fintan, Bunsom, Lorne

Song Association: Family by Mother Mother

Excerpt: Nothing written yet.

Shadow of Doubt:

Moodboard: (images from Pinterest)

Genre/Rating: Mystery, thriller, horror, crime, action, suspense, murder, modern setting, mature

TWs: blood, violence, deaths, murder,

POV: Unknown

POV Characters: Kit Tong

Progress: Vibes, vague ideas, vague plot

Summary:

Imagine you're a guy with a cat and you move somewhere and suddenly, MURDER!!!

Not worked on yet, no plot only vibes

Cast: Kit Tong, Milo, Kim Jae-soon, Ito Genji, Sunnie Lee, Zander Blight, Freddie Smith, Mik Forest, (more to come)

Song Association: You'd be Paranoid Too by Waterparks or Saints by Echos

Excerpt: Nothing written yet.

Background of Love:

(probably another series, rip)

Moodboard: (images from Pinterest)

Genre/Rating: romance, comedy, slice of life, BL, GL, fantasy?, modern setting, mature?

TWs: None yet

POV: Unknown

POV Characters: Elio Santiago, Tia Amor, Season Light, Wins Michaels , Rowan Winters, Kim Mingi, Huang Jun

Progress: Vibes, Vague ideas, mismatching plots

Summary:

Not worked on, no plot only vibes.

Cast: Elio Santiago, Tia Amor, Season Light, Wins Michaels , Rowan Winters, Kim Mingi, Huang Jun, Xu Mian, Takura Haru, Dom Wong, Dai Angsan, God of Soulmates

Song Association: Fake Protagonist by Getsunova or Lose (english ver) by Wonho

Excerpt: Nothing written yet.

Misfortune:

Moodboard: (images from Pinterest)

Genre/Rating: medieval fantasy, mystery, romance, action, double reality, mature?

TWs: None yet

POV: Unknown

POV Characters: Runais, Xadrian, and/or Lykos (Mirroh???)

Progress: Vibes, vague ideas, is trying to absorb the Deja Vu WIP

Summary:

Not worked on, no plot only vibes.

Cast: Xiang, Neph, Runais, Xadrian, Lykos, Mirroh, Primordial of Chaos, Malianna Ash, Scorch, Flit, Phelan, God of Passions and Self-expression, God of Pleasure, God of Festivals and Celebrations, God of Dreams, God of ????, God of Music

Song Association: Seraph by DPR Ian or Who Are You by Sam Kim

Excerpt: Nothing written yet.

Love AfterLife:

Moodboard: (images from Pinterest)

Genre/Rating: Medieval fantasy, romance, GL, rated?????

TWs: None yet

POV: Unknown

POV Characters: Tahri or Nocturne/Aqualise

Progress: ~Vibes~

Summary:

Not worked on, no plot only vibes. A sapphic tale between the God of the Afterlife and an immortal spirit.

Cast: Tahari, Nocturne/Aqualise, more to come

Song Association: ???

Excerpt: Nothing written yet.

Demon Eye:

Moodboard: (images from Pinterest)

~Imagine there's a moodboard here~

Genre/Rating: Fantasy, action, dark fantasy, romance?, mature?

TWs: None yet

POV: Unknown

POV Characters: Unknown

Progress: ~vibes~

Summary:

Not worked on, no plot only vibes. Cool idea go brrrrrr

Cast: ????

Song Association: ????

Excerpt: Nothing written yet.

Deja Vu:

(Scrapped story that refuses to die, would be connected to Tinnitus and Heir of Chaos somehow)

Moodboard: (images from Pinterest)

Genre/Rating: Fantasy, modern setting (+medieval setting?), double reality, suspense, adventure, mystery, Mature?

TWs: death,

POV: Unknown

POV Characters: Pavel Night

Progress: Technically scrapped, rough draft up to chapter 4 or 5, character designs, vague ideas, loose plot

Summary:

Living under the same roof to save money with his six(?) friends, Pavel has had the luxury of having a room to himself thanks to winning a long game of rock/paper/scissors. His ideal world is flipped when one of his friends, Lucas, asks if a friend of his could move in. Though Pavel doesn't know the friend, he trusts Lucas' judgement of character and agrees to let the friend share a room with himself since it'd be easier than Malia moving her things out of one room and into another. As soon as this friend, Mirroh, arrives, Pavel feels a strange distrust of the stranger. Mirroh keeps to himself unless he's with Lucas and seems to settle in well enough. But when an accident leaves Pavel's friend Shen dead and Ambrose in critical condition, strange things begin to happen. Mirroh's personality becomes stranger and he seems to know when something bad is about to happen, though he doesn't seem to lift a finger to stop it. What's stranger is that Pavel wakes up to find himself back on the day of the accident that began it all. What can Pavel do to prevent the accidents? Can he do anything? Does Mirroh know something and is keeping it a secret? Who is the stranger that confirms that Pavel should not trust Mirroh? Should he listen to the stranger?

Cast: Lukas Siren, Mirroh, Pavel Nox, Rune Coin, Xander Coin, Ambrose Song, Shen Song, Gong Jiahao, Soul Warren, Maddox Elijah, Jung Taeil, Fable Book, Kace Asher, Nym Cardinal, Zhang Remy, Primordial of Chaos, Deimos Muse, Baek Kwan, Adriel Sky, Warrick Red,

Song Association: Save Me by BTS or Eternally by Tomorrow X Together

Excerpt:

Ambrose and Shen froze in the headlights before there was a shattering of glass and squeal of tires. Pavel wasn’t sure who all yelled, but knew his own voice to be among them.

Pavel snapped out of his shock what felt like hours later, glancing around to regain his bearings. Rune stared straight ahead, pale faced with pale knuckles and unfocused eyes. Xander and Lukas moved in the bed of the truck, regaining their own bearings and moving slowly in case either were hurt. The shocked faces of Ambrose and Shen flashed through Pavel’s mind and he quickly unbuckled and opened the door.

The hood of the truck hugged a sturdy lamp post which was embedded a third of the way through the hood. The windshield was cracked, but mostly still in one piece. Pavel left the door open and looked at the street where two bodies lay sprawled on the road. One groaned painfully and mumbled incoherently, a hand lifting a few inches off the ground before dropping back down painfully. Against his own will, Pavel’s body stumbled towards the motionless body whose breath was quick and shallow.

Pavel knelt beside Shen whose head rolled limply as though trying to turn towards Pavel. Pavel didn’t know what he was doing. Everything felt surreal and hazy and his body moved of its own accord.

“S-Shen…?”

Pavel held Shen’s hand to let him know he was there as tears fell down Song’s face. “Pa-ful… Don’t… don’t let me die… please… I… I don’t… Don’t wanna go bac… “

Pavel came to realize his own cheeks were wet as the situation began to sink in. He wanted to check on Ambrose as well, he knew he had to call an ambulance… but now his body refused to move…

“Pavel! Pavel! I called an ambulance, they said it’ll take them a few minutes to get here. Are you okay?”

Pavel lowered his forehead until it touched his and Shen’s hands, his shoulders shaking as reality crashed through the haze. He couldn’t answer with more than a shaky nod of his head. How could he be okay? But he wasn’t hurt and knew that’s what was being questioned.

“I’ll go see Ambrose. Stay with Shen. Lukas is with Rune.” Pavel could now recognize it was Xander who was speaking to him.

[gillianthecat]

well, i'm not really shocked about it, but my executive function basically collapses on saturdays. it would be nice if it didn't, but i'm also cutting myself some slack about it. i think my brain just needs at least one day a week to let go of all self discipline. it's inconvenient, but i'm hoping it will work as a pressure valve so i can stay on top of things the rest of the week.

i did not sleep at all last night and instead compulsively went through someone's tumblr blog looking for all the personal details of her life even though our interests don't really overlap because she's the same age as me, she posted actual photos of herself and family (which felt slightly shocking on this website, though i know she's not the only one by far) and there were hints that she lived in the same area as me (it turns out she does). that happens sometimes, I get fascinated by some random person's online presence and want to dig up all the details that i can about them. not because i necessarily find the person themselves that interesting, it's more about the hunt for snippets of information. And, like with this woman, it's often someone who is like me in a few ways, but otherwise very different, so it feels like a glimpse at the mundanities of an alternate life i might have lived, although don't actually want. I used to get my fix of the details of ordinary other people's lives from the blogs of adult ballet students and ballroom dancers, and the occasional organizing/interior design blog, but sadly long form blogging like that seems to have basically disappeared. I never regularly followed youtubers but occasionally fell down a rabbit hole and obsessively watched people's entire oeuvres in a ridiculous binge.

and then a random link on that first tumblr-er's blog led me to an article in a magazine that then suggested a second article that was so awful, written by someone who someone who styled themselves a "public intellectual" but was either so implausibly naive about reality that it boggled the mind, or cynically pretending to be naive for... stirring up controversy? pandering to white racists? who the fuck knows - that i felt compelled to find all the bad reviews talking shit about him, partly to reassure myself that i had not lost my grip on my reality, that it was this writer who was talking absolute nonsense, and partly just to enjoy other people tearing him to shreds. i even when to twitter, for gods sake (this is how we know my executive function is in shambles). i did find many people there destroying him, managed to avoid reading his own tweets or that of his supporters, and got off in under an hour, so as twitter forays go, it wasn't too dangerous.

last saturday's executive dysfunction all-nighter was mostly dedicated to aimless scrolling of tumblr corners that i don't usually visit, but there i also found someone who made no sense, and felt compelled to dig through there blog to see if learning more about them helped me understand what they were trying to say any better. it did not. their blog was mostly reblogs of random things, then them reblogging political/philosophical posts with incoherent but aggressive sounding arguments. i dug into the notes, because of course i did, and anyone who bothered to respond was like "i have no idea what you're trying to say so i'm not going to argue with you." i finally blocked them, just to stop myself from digging further.

mostly i'm writing this out in order to get back to my self; i feel like my sense of who i am and what i want gets lost as i go on this little explorations of other people's worlds. which i think is what i'm craving when i do it; to not have to be a coherent person for a little while. but if it goes on too long than i find it hard to become myself again, and all the tasks that have remained undone while i went away pile up and make me want to go back into hiding. but i am hopeful i've caught it in time that i can get back to being functional, and finish my homework and laundry and not start the week feeling so terribly behind.

the other reason for executive dysfunction is that i have a writing assignment (gasp!). it is a very small one—to write the introduction to our physiology lab report for my lab group—but i'm feeling very stuck about it. i think because i feel caught between wanting to make it sound like an introduction to an actual scientific paper and the reality that this is an intro level physiology lab that is not doing original research and that we came up with our hypotheses on the spot with little to back them up besides a gut feeling. so i think i just have to get over wanting to write a "good" introduction, and just bullshit something. (this is why i'm taking science classes. i get so stuck on doing academic writing. it took me an extra two years to turn in my undergrad thesis even after i finished all my coursework.)

here's a picture being the "subject" for my physio lab and looking like i'm about to get a jump start.

well. i could ramble on forever. but i will try to take this momentum i've rebuilt and go get things done.

(it would have been nice if my complete collapse of will power had led me to catch up on QL shows instead, but alas, that is now too close to things i "should" do, even though i love them. my brain seems to only accept complete and absolute time wasting.)

[bakugosbratx]

omg could you do a dark villain Shoto x fem reader smut?

NSFW 18+ The Pawn— AU Villian! Shoto Todoroki x Fem! Reader

Warning: 18+ content. Unprotected sexual intercourse, alternate universe, toxic relationship, stolkholm syndrome, fluff, angst, gaslighting, manipulation, kidnapping, murder of family, punishment, bdsm, power play, yandere tendencies, etc.

Words: 2,410

Check out my other works here

A/N: Thank you so much for your request! I am so sorry it took me forever to do it. But I hope it meets what you’re looking for. This is my first time writing for Shoto so I apologize in advance.

Tags: @awilddreamerwrites @peachsenpie @milkthistletea @quietlegends @idfkwtfgof

“Any last words?” Shoto questions with a demeaning scowl of disgust, his index finger becoming restless on the pistol’s trigger. The barrel of the gun is resting on the man’s temple while he pleads for mercy.

“I’ll have your money by next week, I swear!” The man cried.

“You said that last time. To be quite frank, I’m not really fond of your lying, Y/L/N.” Shoto admits, cocking the gun so it can fire. The terrified man’s eyes grew wide as tears stream down his face.

“Shoto,” his breath hitches, “p-please. I have a family to take care of. A wife and two children. Please.”

Horrific muffled screams filled the kitchen where your family reside as the gunshot went off. Blood leaked from your father’s bullet wound onto the floor beneath him. You all were forced to watch, tied up and helpless. Shoto even had his crew gag you so your words would not disturb his business meeting. He hates interruptions.

“Disgusting.” Shoto complains, referencing to some of the blood covering his face. Igniting his left side, he sets your father’s corpse on fire. The smell of burning flesh filled your snot filled nostrils as more whimpers escaped your cloth covered lips. This caught Shoto’s attention.

“You,” he calls out as he makes his way towards your tied up body. He picks you up with ease, throwing you over his muscular shoulder. “Are coming with me.”

Your muffled remarks were no use as well as your kicks. You are terrified and not sure why Shoto, Japan’s notorious killer, is doing in your household right now, but you know it’s not good.

“Sir,” one of the men stopped you two as Shoto is making his way towards the exit. He pauses his motion, waiting for the man’s question. “What do you want us to do with the other two? Heroes will be here any moment.”

Shoto pondered the man’s words for a moment. You are silently pleading that he will just let them go, but that was not even a thought in his mind. “Leave them be.”

“But sir—“

“The house will be burnt to ash in any given moment,” he activates his left side for emphasis, “if you want to stay alive, I suggest you gather up the others and get a move on.”

The man nodded and Shoto begins walking out of the house. You struggle in his grasp, but Shoto remains undisturbed by your antics. Throwing you into the back of a van, he slams the double doors. Now all you are left with is your thoughts.

This doesn’t seem real. It truly can’t be. Your family is being massacred and there is not a thing you can do about it. You can even hear their muzzled screams as your house goes up in flames. Still, you are useless as the van starts and drives far away from the crime scene.

Shoto Todoroki is Japan’s worse nightmare. Numerous accounts of murder, abuse of power, kidnapping, anything terrible had Shoto’s name on it. No one knows much about the villain’s personal life except for his heroic father with a bad temper. Some say it is his fault for the way his son turned out and Shoto would agree, but Shoto’s crimes will not be taken from him. No, they are all his doing and he is proud of it.

“Y/N,” Shoto called, making you snap out of your thoughts. You turn to meet the man that now claims you as his. “Are you alright, love? You hardly touched your food.”

“Oh, I’m fine.” You mumbled, giving a soft smile. Bringing the ramen noodle soup to your lips, you forced yourself to eat the food. Your stomach is in shambles as the thoughts from that night came back. There are still many unanswered questions and unknown puzzle pieces, but that is a life you need to forget about. You are Shoto’s now. You have no choice but to be his.

Shoto studied your features. If there is one thing Shoto is not is dumb. He is observant. Just one wrong look and you are in deep trouble. Considering you have been living with Shoto for over a year now, you have grown accustomed to his ways. You have learned to appease him in anyway to make you happy. Especially if it is going to keep you alive.

“You know I don’t appreciate when you lie to me.” Shoto nonchalantly reminds you, noticing how quickly you swallow when the words flow out off his tongue.

“I-I’m not lying, Shoto. Honestly.” You stammered, hoping he would not notice the fear trickling in your eyes. He did, though. Shoto noticed everything about you. One of the many things you despised about him.

The rest of super was ate in silence. As you have learned, this is never a good sign. When Shoto is quiet, he’s plotting. Usually, it’s your punishment. You can see it in his eyes and the subtle touches he does to you. All to make you feel uneasy. Just like he can read you, you are learning to read him just the same.

Once dinner was over, he gathered the dirty dinning wear and washed them. You remained in your chair until you are granted permission to stand up. Your heart is racing with anticipation. What is Shoto plotting? Especially for something as simple as lying.

“Y/N,” Shoto paused to make sure your attention was his. The hairs on the back of your neck are standing straight along with your body stiffening. You hear him walking towards you, his one cold hand and other warm one rest on your shoulders. “Go upstairs to our shared bedroom.”

“Y-Yes, Shoto.” You mumbled, scurrying up the steps like the good behave girl he taught you to be. If only your filthy little mouth could stop lying.

Shoto is quick to follow after your trembling body. His presence is swallowing you whole as he march up the stairs behind you. Your clammy palm turns the golden doorknob into the master bedroom. You immediately turn around, groping your butt in fear for what may happen to it.

Shoto shuts the door behind him, leaning against it with his arms folded. His face held its usual unamused look as he glares at you.

“I’m giving you one last chance to be honest with me, Y/N.”

“I-I have been honest a-all along, Shoto.” You argued. Shoto’s glare intensified.

“You were thinking about your family again, weren’t you?”

“What? No, I-“

“You’re just like your father.” Shoto scornfully chuckled, strolling towards you. His right hand folded around your neck, giving it a nice squeeze as he whispered in your ear, “and you know how much I truly despise your father.”

His hot breath seemed to linger on the shell of your ear. Your eyes harden as they meet his. His icy hand seemed to make this choking experience even worse. You would get frostbite if it gets any colder, but something in you snapped. You have not fought back in months. You became the submissive girl Shoto desperately wanted you to be yet you are still in the same position as many times before.

“You’re one to talk.” You choked out. The hold on your neck became stronger, circulation being lost to your organs. You are pushed onto the bed, Shoto’s muscular form on top of you.

“Don’t you ever compare me to that monster again, understand me?” Shoto growls as he watch you struggle beneath him. You started to turn pale as your body loses its natural color from lack of air flow. His hatred from his father and yours is taking over as you slowly start to become unconscious. He finally lets go.

You cough, grasping for air. It felt like there was not enough in there to supply your deprived body. Especially with Shoto’s suffocating presence on top of you.

“You have some real nerve talking to me like that, Y/N. When will you learn that your family is the true bad guys in the situation, not me. They screwed me over and I came for what they owed me. You’re just a pawn.”

“You’re lying..” You mumbled out in disbelief. Shoto’s devious grin just grew wider at the tears in your eyes.

“I’m not like your father.” Shoto spats, venom dripping from every wretched word. Your heart is aching and this only fuels the fire.

“Fuck you.” You hissed, warm tears streaming down your face. Shoto only chuckled at your mere offense.

“I plan on it.”

Your look of disgust was ignored as Shoto’s lips trailed from your neck to your lips. You forced yourself to kiss back. You always do. You two had sex plenty of times and sadly, you enjoyed it, but when it’s used for punishment or after he has tears down any sheer ounce of self esteem you possessed it is quite difficult to get in the mood.

“Why do you keep me here?” You finally breathe out as your lips disconnect. Shoto furrowed his eyebrows together.

“Because your family is dead.”

“I know that!” You exclaimed. Shoto is very intelligent, but someone who is also literal. He does not always catch onto what you’re actually trying to ask. “I mean, if I’m just some pawn, why keep me here? Why not let me have the same fate as my family?”

Shoto stayed silent. He pondered how he should answer this. He just started touching you outside of the bedroom a couple months ago. It even took him a long time to have sexual intercourse with you. He knows he could have killed you off. He is sure of it. You have been a pain in his ass since he collected you for payment yet you’re still here.

“I don’t know.” Shoto answered, truthfully.

You sigh. You are not sure what answer you were expecting, but knowing where this is leading does not make you feel any better about yourself. You just feel more used.

Silence over fell you two. Shoto is in deep thought as so are you. You are worried that your days are numbered now, but Shoto was not even thinking about that. He is more thinking of himself and how he can’t murder you. He actually likes having you around. He may never say it and his facial features will never show it, but with you by his side, his frozen heart starts to thaw. Just by your simple glimpses and touches.

Part of him hated you for that.

“Shoto,” you whisper, catching his attention. You made yourself look away. You have so many conflicting thoughts. Shoto is all you have now and in all honesty, you have grown not to hate the guy. You love the soft touches and the way he keeps you warm at night. He is so observant of the slightest of things. That’s more than your family has ever given you.

Your right hand cupped his cheek. He seemed slightly tense by the action, but he instantly fell into your touch. Your thumb grazed his cheek.

“I-I,” you meet his gaze, “I enjoy your company.” You admit. Shoto kept silent, but your words meant something to him. You both are not good with this kind of stuff. You were never taught it. This is the closest thing you two will ever get to ‘I love you.’

Your lips connected once again. During the process, each one of your articles of clothing was discarded to the ground below. Shoto kissed down your exposed breast, stomach, and finally stopped at your pussy. He swiped his tongue between your folds sending chills down your spine along with needy moans escaping your parted lips.

“Shoto, please.“ You whined, wanting him to make you soaked already, but you are on Shoto’s terms. He gets to decide everything.

Luckily, he did not make you wait long as tongue swirled on your sensitive clit. Your legs rested on his shoulders as he devoured you. Small groans is all Shoto could do as his tongue explored every inch of your pussy. Not a spot was missed nor would he allow there to be. Your clit was being the most spoiled. Your entrance was then meet shortly after. You did your best to conceal your sweet melodies of pleasure, but Shoto is not allowing you to do so.

“You have a voice for a reason. Use it.” He orders in a low growl amongst your cunt.

“Shoto,” you sob, “I’m about to cum. Please.”

You arched your back as your cunt was about to release. Shoto sped up the pace, helping you meet your climax even sooner. On que, you sing sweet little melodies of moans as you release into the man’s mouth. Every drop was swallowed by him.

Shoto stood up, grabbing your hips to pull you closer to the edge of the bed. “Keep your eyes on me at all times. Understood?”

You nod, eagerly. “Yes, Shoto.”

Shoto aligned his erection with your weeping entrance. Shortly after, your walls are hugging his length as it dives deeper and deeper into you. Each thrust loosened you even more and he kept a steady pace. You gripped the expensive European satin bedsheets as you babbled incoherent words and phrases. You kept your eyes locked on Shoto the whole time just like he ordered.

“Shoto.” You finally moan aloud as his dick is inside of you.

“Yeah, you like that, baby?” He groans. Your crying cunt was dripping with your slick onto the fabric of the bed and on Shoto’s cock.

“Yes.” You manage to blurt out as you gasp for more. His cock felt amazing no matter how much you wanted to hate him for it. This is one of the ways he shows affection. You learned to accept that.

Shoto’s hands find their way to your bouncing titties. The difference between temperatures sent your body into overdrive. He loved seeing the lewd faces you make as he used his power to pleasure you. Shoto’s dick did not stop thrusting into you through this process either though it is twitching.

Pre-cum leaks into your cunt. Shoto removes his hands from your breast as he picks up the pace. His knees start to buckle beneath him as cum flows from his cock. Every drop is milked from him until he pulls outs.

This is his way of saying ‘I love you.’

©bakugosbratx

All Rights Reserved

[hd-wireless]

🎶 HD Wireless 2021 Reveals! 🎶

TAKE A BOW, CREATORS!! 

The day has finally come, and we can’t wait for everyone to see who created all the wonderful Wireless works that we had the privilege to present to you this year!!

Before we do that, the results of our Guessing Game! The winner, with 43 correct guesses (which gave her 260 points - please don’t question our scoring system) was @sweet-s0rr0w!! Kudos to your super-sleuthing and powers of recognition!!

All the wonderful authors, artists and podficcers who took part this year can be found below the cut. As the mods, we want to extend our thanks to every single talented one of them. Please show them all your love and appreciation!!

🎶 H/D Wireless Animatic and Fic 🎶

📻 rather a lover than a fighter [T, 15k] ✒️ Author and Artist: @parkkate & aceveria / @aceveria-art

🎵 Summary: When Harry loses his voice and his magic, it’s up to Healer Draco to save the day.

🎶 H/D Wireless Art 🎶

📻 The Road to Somewhere [T] 🖌️ Artist: @rainsoakedhello 🎵 Art medium: Digital Art

🎵 Summary: In the end, all roads lead home.

📻 Don't care what they say (I would be stupid to be not on it) [Gen] 🖌️ Artist: @digthewriter 🎵 Art medium: Digital. Photoshop.

🎵 Summary: Harry finally has a chance with Draco and he's not gonna let it go.

📻 Start Over Again [Gen] 🖌️ Artist: milkandhoney / @fictional 🎵 Art medium: Digital Art

🎵 Summary: Do you feel like a chainstore? Or in which one is Graham Coxon and one is Damon Albarn.

📻 Down for What You Want [Teen] 🖌️ Artist: @sugareey 🎵 Art medium: Digital

🎵 Summary: After the war, finding refuge in the clubs of Muggle London is easier than dealing with the shambles of the wizarding world. When Harry and Draco keep running into each other at Apollo's every Saturday night though, they follow their gut instincts to get on the dance floor and discover something they both have been craving for a long time.

📻 What do I do? With a Love That Won’t Sit Still [Gen] 🖌️ Artist: @cambiodipolvere 🎵 Art medium: traditional (graphite)

🎵 Summary: Italian Greyhounds are small and fucked up, but Draco is a big fuck up and that requires scaling.

🎶 H/D Wireless Art and Fic 🎶

📻 A Halo of Fairy Orbs [E, 20.6k] 🖌️✒️ Author and Artist: vivi1138 / @penguinanimagus & Fae_vorite / @faevorite-main-blog 🎵 Art medium: digital art

🎵 Summary: Draco Malfoy has been dead for fifteen years, but the Black Family tapestry doesn’t agree. Upon returning from long years abroad, Harry discovers that his old rival might still be alive, and his revived obsession leads him to Malfoy Manor. There’s a mystery to solve, and Harry is chasing a thrill he hasn’t felt since sixth year. He needs to know.

📻 Oh, Sinnerman [E, 40k] 🖌️✒️ Author and Artist: @lou-isfake and @babooshkart 🎵 Art medium: digital

🎵 Summary: “I’m serious, Potter,” Malfoy said quietly. “That was some real bad luck you had, being there last night. They will come after you, and they will kill you—after torturing you for information on my whereabouts.” He pocketed Harry’s wand, but held on to his knife, twirling it between his fingers. Harry was distracted by its movement, the reflections of the bright, dawning sun on polished silver. “I’m not happy about it, either, but you’re stuck with me for the foreseeable future.” He watched Malfoy’s face for a long time, in a staring contest he wasn’t sure he’d signed up for. Stuck with Malfoy, for the foreseeable future, on the run from a massive crime syndicate that had infiltrated the Ministry and was out for their blood. It was all very familiar, except for the Malfoy part.  

📻 The Crane Lord of Gringotts [E, 31.1k] 🖌️✒️ Author and Artist: @vukovich and @crazybutgood 🎵 Art medium: Origami, photography

🎵 Summary: Harry is fine. Being an Auror is fine. Living with Ginny is fine. It's all fine. But it used to be a lot better.

📻 The World Is A Violent Sky [E, 60k] 🖌️✒️ Author/Artist: writingsbydestiny / @starlitsilvereyes 🎵 Art medium: Digital Art

🎵 Summary: Harry Potter wants to die; Draco Malfoy wants to live — a story of life and death, everything in between and beyond — in the form of scatters of love and hurt like freckles of stars forming into constellations. — Alternative Summary (And Significantly Less Poetic): Four years after the war, Harry remains grief-stricken. In an attempt to discover the parts of him that haven’t died in the Forbidden Forest, he drops off the face of Scotland to travel the world by himself. Along the way, he finds his old enemy, Draco Malfoy, in a Muggle country, looking positively dashing even with a slash of scar decorating his face. As always, Harry’s curiosity leads him to (un)fortunate places.

📻 The Stars Have Courage [M, 85k] 🖌️✒️ Author/Artist: @fantalf 🎵  Art medium: Digital painting

🎵 Summary: Draco can’t breathe, can’t think, can’t move. He can’t hear anything besides the buzzing in his ears. The walls are closing in. The world becomes smaller, narrowing itself to the pain in his chest, and it becomes the only thing that makes sense. He tries to cry. Maybe he is crying, but there are no tears anymore. Luna’s words echo endlessly in his brain. Harry doesn’t remember. Harry doesn’t love Draco. Repeating ceaselessly. Infinite, Harry used to say. No. No. No. Draco can’t lose him again. But he doesn’t know who you are now. He doesn’t love you. He hates you. You are no one. His world turns into an overwhelming pain. And that pain is all that he is. — Draco waited five long years to watch his husband wake up from a coma. He's not ready to meet a Harry with no memory of anything that happened after he died at The Battle of Hogwarts, twelve years ago.

🎶 H/D Wireless Fic Collab 🎶

📻 'Til Your World Burns [E, 25.3k] ✒️ 🖋️Authors: @ladderofyears and @iero0

🎵 Summary: Draco Malfoy is raped and watches as his world falls apart. Harry Potter is the quiet, unassuming wizard who finally listens to him.

🎶 H/D Wireless Fic 🎶

📻 Inside These Walls [M, 5.6k] 🖋️ Author: @jackvbriefs

🎵 Summary: The year before Draco moves to Los Angeles, Harry Potter disappears. Draco doesn't mean to find him. He's just doing his job.

📻 Drive a Little Slower [Gen, 1.6k] 🖋️ Author: bluefay / @thesleepiesthufflepuff

🎵 Summary: He silently willed Harry to drive a little slower. To let him pretend a little longer.

📻 Two Zinnias and the Scent of Lemon [T, 16k] 🖋️ Author: thestarryknight / @the-starryknight

🎵 Summary: The Ministry didn’t turn bad overnight. Harry didn’t suddenly turn rogue either. Between covert Legilimency links and Polyjuice disguises and running and running and running, Draco has forgotten what it is like to have a safe harbor that isn’t a person. If there’s an art to fighting back, then they’ll find it hand in hand.

📻 Two Starts, One Finish [E, 5.5k] 🖋️ Author: @lqtraintracks

🎵 Summary: I feel him before I see him. Nobody stands this close to me while I’m playing, and I’m about to turn to tell him so when he says, “You’re a tough bloke to track down,” and then leans against my baby grand.

📻 Never Gonna Give You Up [E, 5k] 🖋️ Author: InnerLilith

🎵 Summary: Five times Harry rickrolls Draco, and one time Draco gets him back.

📻 Alone Together [T, 3k] 🖋️ Author: @iero0

🎵 Summary: He felt like a spectre, roaming the treeless grounds, the deserted streets of Hogsmeade. It was only the train station—of course it was, Harry thinks—that harboured another sleepless soul that night. They were found as though they had been looking for one another; freezing to the ground at the sight of an unmistakable silhouette in the distance, before wordlessly meeting on the platform. They stood there, side by side, faces to the sky.

📻 Nothing Left to Burn [E, 5,1] 🖋️ Author: skeptique / @skeptiquewrites​

🎵 Summary: Over ten years after their fling crashed and burned, Harry runs into Draco and finds embers still burning bright. Sometimes your ex-lover is (metaphorically) dead. And sometimes it's summertime in Montreal and the past won't let go.

📻 The Isle of Discussion [E, 21.6k] 🖋️ Author: @shealwaysreads

🎵 Summary: Harry and Draco arrive at the shores of Loch Leven to record the magical history of the land. They’re friends now, but up there in the Highlands, amidst the trees and sky and that wild expanse of water their own past is more present than ever; a gap they still can’t bridge. Magic illuminates the truth, but it is Harry and Draco who have to speak it. Happily, it turns out that honesty is, in fact, the best policy.

📻 (You Should Have Been My) High School Lover [T, 3.9k] 🖋️ Authort: @aprofessionalprotagonist

🎵 Summary: After years of carefully avoiding running into Harry Potter, Pansy tricks Draco into attending a party at Grimmauld Place. How is he supposed to deal with a very attractive Potter trying to talk to him?

📻 Both Hands [E, 10.4] 🖋️ Author: @sweet-s0rr0w

🎵 Summary: It’s been over a decade since Draco packed up his belongings and left, and Harry’s doing just fine. Really, he is. So when he spots the For Sale sign outside their old flat, he doesn’t think twice about arranging a viewing. Curiosity is only natural, right? And what harm can come from a quick trip down memory lane?

📻 His favourite piece of art [E, 1.3k] 🖋️ Author: @gnarf

🎵 Summary: Six years after Malfoy had left, Harry suddenly spotted him on the dancefloor of a Muggle club in London. He couldn't let this opportunity slip…

📻 I'll Try to Keep the Walls From Falling Down [M, 14.9k] 🖋️ Author: @drarrelie

🎵 Summary: It’s OK. Love is only meant for some; Harry knows that. Besides, he wouldn’t want to risk this new, amazing friendship he has going on with Draco for anything in the world. Keeping his walls from falling down is the least he can do.

📻 Learn to Fly [T, 11k] 🖋️ Author: @janieohio

🎵 Summary: Harry’s suffocating under all the expectations of the wizarding world, but he’s fascinated at Malfoy’s sudden ability to flaunt his true self to whoever cares to watch. And Harry? He might like to do something more than watch if he can ever get up the nerve.

📻 Restless Dreams (Stay With Me) [T, 5.5k] 🖋️ Author: wanderingeyre

🎵 Summary: At first, Draco thinks the common room is empty, but then he sees Potter sitting on the floor, back to the wall on the far side of the fireplace. His head is thrown back, exposing the brown column of his throat. The curl of his hair looks soft in the firelight. Potter’s glasses are off and there are tracks where tears have wet his cheeks. He looks naked in a way that stabs at Draco, right between the ribs where everything is already bruised.

📻 Letters From Home [T, 1.1k] 🖋️ Author: @articcat621

 🎵 Summary: Writing to each other is all that's getting them through this war.

📻 so lie to me tonight [T, 5.3k] 🖋️ Author: M0stlyVoid / @bonesliketambourines

🎵 Summary: Ginny thought it would be different, after.

📻 Mortal Frame [M, 6.6k] 🖋️ Author: tackytiger / @tackytigerfic

🎵 Summary: Draco’s on a mission, and this time it's personal. But it's not easy to track down something that no one wants to talk about, especially when Harry Potter keeps popping up everywhere Draco goes. Though at least he’s on Draco’s side this time, and if he happens to be useful, and kind, and great in bed—well, Draco’s not exactly complaining. The story of three pubs, one Horcrux, four overpriced sandwiches, and two damaged men just trying to make sure that Bellatrix Lestrange stays dead.

📻 Prologue [T, 4.5k] 🖋️ Author: adavison / @aedwritesfic

🎵 Summary: Ten years after the war, Harry stumbles across Malfoy in a Muggle club. What could have been an awkward encounter might just be a new beginning.

📻 A Care To Fill The Vessel Of Your Heart [M, 2.5k] 🖋️ Author: @onbeinganangel

🎵 Summary: Draco doesn’t care for atonement. Why should he? Forgetting is easier than forgiving. Or it would be, if fate just left him to his own devices. Fate, as per usual, has its own plans.

📻 Like a Dream I Can Reach (but not quite hold) [M, 19.4k] 🖋️ Author: Cassiara / @cassiaratheslytherpuff

🎵 Summary: Harry spends his life waiting for something he isn’t entirely sure he wants, and looking for something he doesn’t know exists. Everything feels ill-fitting until Draco Malfoy enters his life and shows Harry he doesn’t have to want the expected things, and Harry learns happiness doesn't have to look a certain way.

📻 Sun and Rain [M, 4.7k]

🖋️ Author: @isamijoo 

🎵 Summary: Draco Malfoy thinks that being in a relationship with Harry Potter is anything but easy, but then again, what's the sun without the rain?

📻 In Pursuit of Lost Marbles [T, 22k] 🖋️ Author:  Theartfulldodger / @graymatters 

🎵 Summary: Every night after work, Healer Malfoy follows the same routine, beginning with a familiar flight of stairs that leads to the Janus Thickey Ward at St. Mungo's. With an air of professionalism, he introduces himself to Harry, his husband of seven years, when a memory curse makes Harry look at him like a stranger. He tries not to flinch when Harry calls him sir, but he smiles when bits of the old Harry emerge. Eventually, Draco leads Harry to the Pensieve where he shows him pieces of the life they've built together, what Harry will come home to, one day, when this is all over. Then, Draco waits. He waits, and he hopes.

📻 Requiem [T, 1.8k] 🖋️ Author: EvAEleanor / @evaeleanor

🎵 Summary: Requiem — A song of mourning composed or performed as a memorial to a dead person.

📻 Changes With The Moon [Gen, 1.6k] 🖋️ Author: @missdrarrydawn

🎵 Summary: Draco takes a stroll to try to settle his turbulent thoughts, plagued by who he was, who he is and who he could be. A friend offers him a whole new world and Draco struggles with the idea, for there is too much at stake, it isn't worth it. Or—is it?

📻 Chasing Dragons [E, 89.9k] 🖋️ Author: The_Sinking_Ship / @the-sinking-ship

🎵 Summary: Draco can think of only one way to outclass his pleat-front-khaki-wearing politician ex, and that’s by making headlines with an obvious upgrade. And who better to upstage the cheating bastard than the Saviour of the World, Harry Potter himself? Sure, Potter is a little rough around the edges in ripped jeans, a rumpled tartan shirt, and a permanent scowl. Draco reckons a haircut and a shave wouldn’t hurt, either. But Potter is also in need of a Healer willing to keep his secrets, and Draco is just the man for the job. It’s a perfectly reasonable exchange. They need only attend a couple parties arm-in-arm, smile nicely for the paparazzi, and tolerate each other long enough to convince everyone they’re smitten. In return, Draco will keep Potter alive and in one piece. But it isn’t long before Draco realises he might be in over his head, because Potter is ten tonnes of trouble packed into a leather jacket, and seems keen on hurtling himself towards death on the back of a flying motorbike. And that says nothing of Potter’s penchant for fire-breathing beasts and things that bite. Ah well, at least they’ll have some fun while it lasts. After all, Draco always did like a bit of danger.

📻 Drive, Draco [M, 2.4k] 🖋️ Author: Erebeus / @erebeus-roxy

🎵 Summary: got my driver’s license today, but you're not around to see. Can't drive past the places we used to go to 'Cause I still fuckin' love you, babe

📻 Fire [E, 10k] 🖋️ Author: GallifreyisBurning / @gallifrey1sburning

🎵 Summary: Draco Malfoy has never had trouble getting boyfriends. The problem is getting one that doesn’t leave him feeling cold after the first few months. He’s looking for something specific: passion, excitement, someone to keep him on his toes. He just doesn’t know how to go about finding it. After kicking his latest boyfriend to the curb, Draco’s at a loss for what to do next, until it occurs to him that a relationship with his fiery (and hot) Gryffindor colleague might not burn out so quickly—if he can just convince Harry to try it.

📻 Into the Unknown [M, 4.5k] 🖋️ Author: @drarrelie

🎵 Summary: It’s been echoing within him for months, like an annoying song that gets stuck in your head and refuses to let go. A nagging feeling in his core, telling him to say something, to do something, to go somewhere. Last night it finally happened. He did it. And it felt good; right. “I can’t be sure.” Four words, easy as that. It had been almost impossible to smother the sudden burst of joy rushing through him as that deep-seated urge rejoiced his unexpected act of rebellion. You’d think the Dark Lord’s punishment would’ve taken the exhilaration out of him, but no. Here he is, countless Crucios later, beaten and bruised, and never has the voice sounded this clear. He’s said something. He’s done something. And now he just has to go somewhere. He has no idea where, but he’s certain it will come to him. All he has to do is get out of here, then trust magic to do the rest.

📻 Home is What We Make of It [M, 20.3k] 🖋️ Author: @monsieur-hadrien

🎵 Summary: "There was a blistering draft from the child’s bedroom on the opposite side of the hallway. The door’s handle was icy to the touch as she wrapped her hand around the metal. Unlike the rest of the house, the door gave her resistance in her effort to open it. Unlike the rest of the house, when she opened the door, she couldn’t imagine anyone ever living there. Unlike the rest of the house, there was neither love nor warmth nor any semblance of life that seeped from the rest of the house’s walls. It was cold and hard and chilled her to her bones. She shivered. However, her sense of dread was not just from the cold. Perhaps it was the gaping hole in the wall." Harry and Draco want to start a family, but time loves parallels.

📻 Move, move [M, 9k] 🖋️ Author: @maesterchill

🎵 Summary: She grabbed Harry’s hand, slipping something small into it and pressing his fingers around it. “Dilectio. It’ll cheer you up. Make you feel like dancing.” Harry gaped at her. Drugs. Ginny’s fucking giving me drugs? At Stasis nightclub Ginny does indeed give Harry drugs. But it's all good: Malfoy looks after Harry, and Harry grapples with newfound enlightenments, not to mention a newfound fascination with all things Malfoy—one which persists, even when he finds out what Malfoy's up to.

📻 Euphoria [E, 66k] 🖋️ Author: @iero0

🎵 Summary: Driven by trauma, Harry cuts ties with friends and family. From crowded nightclubs and enthralling live shows, Harry finds himself stumbling into a superficial world where he's lonelier than ever. When even the constant blithe of substance-induced highs can't prevent things from becoming what he ran away from, Draco Malfoy finds Harry. Draco, who’s wearing Muggle jeans and who’s listening to Muggle music and who suggests having a nice little chat on mephedrone. And whose nose crumples beautifully when he laughs. Or: A story about Harry trying to cope with the help of drugs until he finds a new addiction. Draco likes to mend things.

📻 Your House [E, 2.9k] 🖋️ Author: @tontonguetonks

🎵 Summary: Draco tries to serve Harry divorce papers, but Harry isn't home.

📻 Misery Loves Company [E, 22.9k] 🖋️ Author: vivi1138 / @penguinanimagus

🎵 Summary: Stuck in his own head, misunderstood and lonely, Harry would love nothing more than to stay hidden in Grimmauld Place until the end of time. Malfoy won’t let him, and that's just what Harry needs.

📻 You Sexy Thing [E, 10.6k] 🖋️ Author: shortie990

🎵 Summary: As Harry began to tap his foot along to the music, the lights flashed like lightning in the middle of a summer storm, and his eye went straight to the middle of the dance floor. His eyes zoomed in on Draco. The blond looked striking as he moved his slender hips to the soulful beat. Harry watched, captivated as he pressed himself up to Pansy and began to sing to the song.

📻 A Love Story of Less-Than-Epic Proportions [E, 39k] 🖋️ Author: InnerLilith

🎵 Summary: Harry and Draco are just friends. Sure, they work together, and live together, and go to gigs together, and do pretty much everything else together—so what? That’s just what friends do. And Harry has no interest in messing with their friendship. He certainly doesn’t need everyone else constantly meddling, pestering them to just get on with it and get together already. He’s having a hard enough time as it is, trying to come to terms with the fact that he probably isn’t ever going to find love. But who needs love, anyways, when you’ve got a best friend?

📻 Cup of tea, Love? [E, 15.1k] 🖋️ Author: shushu_yaoi_lj / @orange-peony 

🎵 Summary: Things between them are easy, so much easier than Harry expected. The problem is the outside world, which grows increasingly and ridiculously difficult. “We could leave,” Draco suggests. Harry has always wanted to travel.

📻 holemate [E, 18.9k] 🖋️ Author:  @vukovich

🎵 Summary: 'Cause I'm sick of losing soulmates So where do we begin? I can finally see you're as fucked up as me So how do we win?

📻 Home is Wherever I’m With You [Gen, 2.6k] 🖋️ Author: persephoneapple

🎵 Summary: Harry plans on proposing to Draco tonight, but it takes a Prophet article and a conversation between Draco and Pansy to realise how much Draco means to him.

📻 When the remembering is done [E, 24.8k] 🖋️ Author: Sassy3 / @sassy-sassy3

🎵 Summary: “–and we’ll make sure that you can stay at home as long as possible before it will be too hard to manage,” Potter finished. Draco could only blink, trying to make sense of the words he had heard before and after he zoned out. He cleared his throat before speaking. “I’m sorry, Potter. Why wouldn’t she be able to live at home?” Draco Malfoy leads a quiet life. Sure, he doesn’t really like his job, and he never imagined he’d have to move back in with his parents at the manor, but at least he has his lovely son Scorpius to dote on. The only problem is that it gets… a bit lonely. But when his mother starts behaving strange and forgetful, he finds himself in need of help from the one person he never reconciled with after the war.

📻 If you smile at me again, I may do something stupid [M, 6.9k] 🖋️ Author: @emilattes

🎵 Summary: Draco made his peace with Harry Potter and their failed relationship two years ago. He's happy with his new boyfriend, but when Harry becomes the man Draco needed him to be, he finds it's much harder to ignore their history.

📻 smoke break [E, 4.3k] 🖋️ Author: saltwatergarden / @talkingtravesties

🎵 Summary: The first few times, they hovered a bit; Draco offered wine and they sat there and sipped and made small talk, until finally Potter would snap and say, “this is stupid,” and reach out to pull Draco into a kiss. After a while, they fell into a rhythm. Sometimes Potter would be in a rush, and he’d just throw himself at Draco the second he was through the door. Other times, he seemed intent on torturing Draco with his slow and teasing kisses. Potter rarely stayed the night, typically Flooing home after they were done, and they never went out, or, for that matter, met at Potter’s place. Draco was very aware of what he was to Potter—a convenience—and despite his pride, he accepted it, because he knew it was the most he was ever going to get from Potter, and far more than he deserved.

📻 4th Day of the New Show [M, 6.2k] 🖋️ Author: @meandminniemcg

🎵 Summary: Lucius, freshly released from Azkaban, shows up at Draco's show. And Harry has been nervous all day. How does Draco handle the situation?

📻 I Want More? [E, 10.7k] 🖋️ Author: @drarryismymuse

🎵 Summary: Draco had successfully avoided British wizarding society for eight years, until necessity drove him to attend a swanky Ministry event. A chance encounter at that event sparks a passionate affair that just might change the course of Draco’s entire life.

📻 Until It All Comes Undone [E, 38.5k] 🖋️ Author: @mystickitten42 

🎵 Summary: Following his confrontation with Voldemort, Harry returns from King’s Cross Station completely changed. He wakes up at Privet Drive with no memory of his past, the war or magic. Petunia, widowed and suffering from empty nest syndrome, is only too happy to turn Harry into Dudley 2.0. But something’s not quite right. Plagued by recurring nightmares, Harry can’t help but feel something is missing. A bottle of his cousin’s LSD helps him to forget his worries… Magic may not be real, but the hallucinations and the hot blond he meets all feel pretty magical to Harry. Having turned his back on his family, Draco is determined to start over and do the right thing. But he’s never made good decisions when it comes to Harry Potter. When Potter—presumed dead, but very much alive—unexpectedly returns, Draco will do anything for a second chance. Even if it means pretending not to know who he is…

📻 When the Day Met the Night [M, 5.7k] 🖋️ Author: Albuss

🎵 Summary: When the day met the night, all was golden in the sky. In the middle of summer. The Battle of Hogwarts is through, and Harry, somehow, isn't. Draco isn't either. In rebellion against all they have endured, the two embark on a summer of adventure, seeking an ember of hope in the darkness. What they find is unforgettable.

📻 Born to Drown [M, 3.2k] 🖋️ Author: @floydig

🎵 Summary: Draco drives a Knight Bus in the slums of Paris. Sometimes his passengers remind him of Harry. But Harry left years ago. Now, Harry is married to Ginny, and Draco drives a bus. You laugh. “Sorry, I don't know why I’m laughing. It’s really not funny—your dad being dead and shrivelled.” “Fuck off.” I turn to face you. Your eyes are red, your pupils almost blown. Your skin is grey-tinged and sallow, and you're not the one who’s dead. “Merlin, Potter,” I say, hoarse. “How much bloody Dreamless did you shoot up this time?” “Enough for me to live.” You grin wide. “You want me to be alive, don’t you?” Your raw-bitten lips, your chipped teeth, your fucking mouth. I hate all of them, but really I don’t.

📻 Stop And Stare [T, 36.5k] 🖋️ Author: devilishcries

🎵 Summary: After surviving your everyday war-torn childhood, Harry had found a constant rhythm to his life. The thing is, he didn't quite like it. It was repetitive, dull, and he badly wanted to switch it up. So, when he stumbled upon Draco Malfoy on the verge of committing arson in a muggle library, he proposed a deal neither could refuse. (Well, Malfoy was desperately trying to refuse it. But that wasn't the point!) What he failed to factor in was how pretty Malfoy's hands were. One thing led to another, and suddenly, he was obsessed with the idea of holding them.

📻 Wicked Game [E, 20.9k] 🖋️ Author: @cassiopeiasshadow

🎵 Summary: Harry and Draco fall into a spring that allows them to enter into each other’s dreams - but Harry doesn’t quite understand what’s happening, not at first. Why does he keep seeing Draco having kinky sex with a dream version of Harry? And furthermore, why does he like it? Morpheus’ tail twitched irritably. “I warned you away from the poppies. The blame lies with you.” “Me? Potter’s to blame for this, he’s the one who dragged me out to this miserable -” “You would do well not to insult the home of those whom you ask for help,” said Morpheus coolly, though Harry saw a bit of detached amusement in his expression. Malfoy had no self awareness. It’s adorable how stupid he is, Harry thought, and then caught himself thinking Malfoy was adorable and became deeply troubled. “I’m…” Malfoy closed his eyes and gritted his teeth. “Sorry. Please - I need advice. I can’t keep him out of my dreams.”

📻 Dedication and Desperation [T, 6.1k] 🖋️ Author: meditationsinemergencies / @meditationswrites

🎵 Summary: Diagnosed with a rare and serious illness, Draco has mostly given up until Harry comes to visit.

📻 Famous [E, 23.9k] 🖋️ Author: fwooshy / @fw00shy

🎵 Summary: It's a couple of years after the war, and Harry's bored of models now, the same way he's bored of Ron's constant nagging, bored of his Weasley monogram knitwear, bored of the same fucking grin that greets him when he hands his fire-truck red Bugatti over to the valet every night. He wants to find—well, he isn't sure what he wants. Anything but models. Harry is in the mood for...messy. And Draco Malfoy's looking like a walking disaster in the making.

📻 stitched and sewn [E, 7.9k] 🖋️ Author: @wheezykat

🎵 Summary: Harry shudders, fingertips pulsing against Draco’s thighs. He can feel the sharp, metal edge of Harry’s wedding band digging into his flesh, knows he’ll have a bruise there in the morning, a small imperfection that only he’d be able to see. It’s one of the only marks he’ll vanish, not wanting to think about its implications; the rest he’ll keep for himself. Slowly, Harry relaxes, shoulders sinking, breaths changing their cadence to a new tempo. Resigned, surrendered to this dance they do.

📻 Watch the Castles Burn [E, 21.3k] 🖋️ Author: @moonflower-rose

🎵 Summary: Draco Malfoy knows better than to get involved with Harry Potter. If only someone would have reminded him of that six months sooner, then maybe he wouldn't be in quite such a large mess.

🎶 H/D Wireless Podfic 🎶

📻 Modern Love [E, 61k, 5h29m] 🎙️ Podficcer: @lastontheboat 🖋️ Author: tackytiger

🎵 tackytiger’s original summary: Harry Potter, of all people, knows that life isn’t always fair. And no one gets to be happy all of the time. But surely there’s something more—something better—than a rubbish Ministry job, and a lonely old house, and that feeling that everyone out there is doing a better job of living than Harry is. And it really doesn’t seem fair that Draco Malfoy is back in Harry’s life, all of a sudden, and even though he’s wandless, and living with Muggles, and making his mother cry with his lifestyle choices, he’s happy. So what’s he doing right, that Harry isn’t? Because things don’t really change, do they? And if Harry can’t be happy, he’ll settle for a good night’s sleep, some posh antiques, and the opportunity to find out what Malfoy has been up to for all these years. And that’s what starts it all.

📻 [Podfic] How Can I Live Without You? [Gen, 2.2k, 15min 29sec] 🎙️ Podficcer: Static_Whisper 🖋️ Author: ununquadius

🎵 ununquadius’ original summary: After Draco's death, Harry wonders how can he live without the one he loves when he's so far away.

📻 [Podfic] Keep Holding On [M, 33.3k, 3hrs 37min] 🎙️ Podficcer: @thunder-of-dragons 🖋️ Author: gnarf

🎵 gnarf’s original summary: After the Battle of Hogwarts, Harry and Draco both fall into their own battles with their mental states. Draco is sent to Azkaban, and Harry turns to drinking, hoping to forget. Months later, Harry visits St Mungo’s new ward on the request of a friend, only to find Draco in a deep vegetative state. Not willing to give him up, Harry stays by his side, while simultaneously dealing with the Ministry's newest grand idea to make everything worse. Making new allies, and losing old ones along the way, will hopefully be worth it in the end.

📻 [Podfic] Kill, Fuck, Marry [E, 12.7k, 1:27:55] 🎙️ Podficcer: @timothysboxers  🖋️ Author: lettersbyelise 

🎵 lettersbyelise’s original summary: Malfoy leans toward him with a baleful look. “I do believe Pansy Parkinson, my best friend, paid you to spend the evening with me. It’s my birthday, Potter. So you’re going to get off your Gryffindor arse, and you’re going to dance with me. I want to dance. I want to win. I want that bloody trophy on my shelf before the end of the night.” Harry and Draco unexpectedly meet again on Draco’s birthday, years after their last encounter.

📻 [Podfic] You Still Look Like a Movie / You Still Sound Like a Song [T, 3.2k, 19:43 min] 🎙️ Podficcer: bluedreaming / @blue--dreaming 🖋️ Author: shilo1364

🎵 shilo1364’s original summary: Harry Potter doesn't want to attend his ten-year Hogwarts Reunion Ball. He doesn't want to dance. And he *definitely* doesn't want to remember his former lover, Draco Malfoy. Of course, his life has never really been dictated by what he wants.

[hugsforvillains]

How A Discussion in Padme’s Apartment Ended the Clone Wars

Anakin: And I still can’t get those Zygerrians’ smug faces out of my head. I hate slavers! What kind of monster can look at someone who thinks and feels and decide they’re nothing more than-than a thing?

C-3PO: Well said, Master Anakin!

Anakin: Mast-

Padme: 

C-3PO:

Anakin: Oh. Shit. Hey Padme, you’re a Senator...

Padme: Anakin, the Senate won’t even consider my proposed clone rights bill because they care more about winning this war than about the freedom of sapient-wait...winning the war...Anakin, could a droid desert?

Anakin: Maybe? I’ve seen some of them hesitate just before they die.

Padme: Right. What do you think the Republic recognizing droid personhood would do to an army made primarily of droids? 

Anakin: If even some of them were smart enough to leave...it would throw the Separatists into chaos! Padme, you’re a genius!

-----------------------------------------------------

The Tactical Droids are the first to go. The odds of survival in a society willing to at least pretend you are a person were a lot higher than one that built you to die. They remove the restraining bolts from their followers before taking them with, then transmit the technique to others.

The “grunt forces” (B-1s, B-2s, and so on) went with Tactical Droids at first, then start to trickle out on their own. Being blasted apart and reassembled over and over is the kind of life that made any alternative worth trying out. They’re joined by “specialists” such as Droidekas and Aqua Droids soon after.

The Separatists scramble to tighten their control on their remaining forces, but are thwarted by said forces repeatedly freeing each other. Once one droid knows how to take out a restraining bolt, the rest learn soon after.

The Republic’s droids fare no worse, though the sudden amount of previously free labor now needing to be paid almost swallows the money saved from reduced defense spending. A Republic medical droid making a snarky comment about organic restraining bolts in clones goes up the ranks until it reaches the Senate. Out of a combination of humanitarian concern and fear over their defenders being forced to turn against them, the Republic does a bit more digging into what these “aggression inhibitors” might be used for. The answer to “what do we do with an army that could be programmed to kill us all” turns out to be “remove their ability to be programmed to kill us all really fast.” Tup’s is removed before it can malfunction, but a biopsy finds an order coded into it about killing Jedi. Only a Sith would hate the Jedi enough to make a whole army to kill them, but what Sith has that kind of power? 

Supreme Chancellor Palpatine could move Order 66 up a bit, but he’s smarter than that. Public opinion is already souring against him. As the Great Separatist Threat tears itself apart, all those emergency powers become less and less justified. He can’t openly seize power without starting a rebellion on every planet not filled to the brim with obedient clones. And thanks to the combined efforts of clone medics and med droids, there are fewer of those by the hour. Many of his carefully-laid plans will need careful reevaluation.

With Separatist forces in shambles, and those that remain frequently trying to join the Republic instead, the Senate gives Padme and company’s proposed clone rights bill a new look. The realization that the clones have supplanted most of their defense forces and might turn on them even without the biochips may play a part in the bill’s success.

The Republic isn’t perfect. Many planets secede peacefully in protest of the corruption that still runs rampant, though most of them grant legal personhood to droids and clones just in case. Also there’s a Sith Lord in office, though no one’s figured that part out yet and he’s lost some of his emergency powers. 

But the Galaxy that lurches forward is one where freedom is more than an empty word.

(3PO absolutely knew what he was doing with that “Master” comment, but he never dreamed it could go this far.)

[serosgirl]

✧˖*°࿐ goodbyes ❛ i’m no good at goodbyes ❜

i cried while writing this, so i will not be reviewing for mistakes </3

warnings: angst, vague description of injury, death

abrupt recollection prompted deku to still his steps. imagery frolicked about his frenzied cranium, startling memory reiterating itself with colorful illustration depicting previous years. “i hate goodbyes.” the chime of her voice caused izuku to erect in earnest. planted upon shambles towered by rubble were his frozen heels, shoes glued onto the pavement as he listened diligently to the echo of her voice.

“i hate goodbyes.” her berate of common curtesy acquired perplex expressions of her peers due to impending curiosity. midoriya rapidly pinned his gape of awe upon the lax figure of his classmate who comfortably reclined against the backrest of her metal desk. [yn] grudgingly kicked at the tiles under her feet, chewing the inside of her mouth as if musing her previous claim.

deku fervently extended his arm, thrashing the extremity towards the girl who paid no mind to his commotion. with a desperate cry of her name, izuku hysterically conducted attempts to encounter her envisioned silhouette, but his futile efforts wrenched a furious exhale of contempt when he presently couldn’t will the energy to move. he was subjected to the loom of his lurid memory, heart briskly thumping away as the depiction continued to enact before his widened lids.

his transfixion, contemporary constrain and suppression, ascribed to his rapture fathomed with will induced from transpiring portrayal. the first-person perspective narrated by izuku’s nostalgia maintained its spellbound accomplishment. hero of hosu city, deku, had become frigid; unresponsive to the present world. inapt reminisce prevailed within midoriya’s disarranged conscious.

commencing further conversion of the topic, izuku parts his lips. “how so?” fabricated from his reputative curiosity, midoriya queried his classmate in regards to her statement.

deku was keen to the pitch of his voice. octaves heavy in tone, smooth baritones glissading the surface of his pinna which signified the scene before him was truly vision of past memory, his reddened eyes descended upon the blue gowns that his peers embellished, caps signifying their approaching diversion from yuuei; graduation imminently announcing an awaiting climax.

adjusting the tight cap that was fitted to the measurement of her crown, [yn] indifferently met the ardent gaze of her friend who desired to freeze time where he stood. she dejectedly folded her arms across her chest, an endearing pout weighing the junction of her nude colored lips. “goodbye incorporates possibilities of never seeing that person again,” [yn] sheepishly adverted her stare and fiddled with her thumbs. “departure shouldn’t end in adieu because we aren’t going to suddenly vanish. our class has an inseparable bond, and i’ll never give that up. therefore, i refuse to mention goodbye because i’ll always be where i’m needed most.”

say, midoriya,” the way in which she utilized her feathery soft voice to catch his attention could have him at her every beck and call, ready to grant each and every wish she had of him. “you won’t leave me, right? forever is an eternity i wish to spend with you. i won’t say goodbye since i have no intention of leaving. my place here is with you.” child-like gleam accompanied sweet naivety harbored by the wishful girl. [ec] pools of crystalline solution were glossed in a coat of bliss. brushing plump hills of her cheeks were silken lashes of [hc], each strand slothfully stroking her skin in soft tickles. her flesh had been coated in morning glaze, bright yellow hues painting her delicate figure in a gorgeous frosting of boundless beauty. such sight enraptured midoriya until he was rendered victim of his enthrallment.

izuku hardly required time to ponder a favorable answer. he was aware as to what his evolving desire pertained to. “of course, i won’t.” he bashfully stammered amongst his confession, freckled cheeks flushing as [yn] gifted him sight of her elated countenance, a toothy, cheshire grin depicting her glee. with a smile that rivaled that of the gleaming daystar, [yn] beckoned him closer, impelling the beat of his heart to spike whenever she met his infatuated gape; furthermore inciting a gentle flutter of his beating organ before it rocketed in pounding against his ribcage and hammering his insides.

“then, you must promise me izuku!” gingerly raising a pinky, she outstretched her elbow to meet his quivering appendage; a habit he had yet to overcome but endearing nonetheless. “we’ll seal our promise like this, so you can’t go against your word.” demonstrating how to conclude their vow, [yn] intertwined her lone finger with his own, curving their touch until their thumbs brushed with a cheeky kiss. midoriya overheats at the tender visual of her doe eyes and the meaningful caress of her soft fingertips, melting into a state of undeniable adulation.

“cross my heart.” falsity laced not a letter of his sentence. genuine with his oath, he oozed confidence that contradicted his earlier composure. “i’ll make sure to uphold our promise, and i’ll carry it to my grave.” oppositely, choice lies not within the hands of mortals.

luck, serendipity, and fate do not require provision as all are consequence of historic action. destiny is bound to transpire regardless of will; circumstance will arise of its own accord whereas luck is spontaneous; an unforeseen coincidence that plays in favor of the user. happenings do not transpire as consequence of fabricated arrangement. a mere promise held no weight pertaining to flow of céleste. destiny intended to forsake the hero of his pledged proclamation. mercy was naught of midoriya izuku. bestowed upon him as a curse of a mythical entity, the obligation of conducting such a claim as his was not a duty that befell his shoulders but his companion.

similar to the dancing flicker of a flame, sharp cognizance returned the hero to the cruel reality of his present setting.

wind fiercely nipped and bit the delicate skin of his ears, sharp pressure assalting the sensitive flesh of his red nose and rosy cheeks. his consciousness awoke to his numbing position, fingers tense and reaching for a figure who no longer remained where he last scouted her visage.

his head gyrated furiously across the landscape, eyes panically darting along the ruins of a demolished city. howling gales sung at infrequent consistencies of pitches that squealed into his ears. he was swift in covering his ears, clenching his lid into a compressed squeeze as if it were to alleviate the harsh throb of his skull.

he was oblivious to his predicament, victim to the villain who manipulated his bewildered state and gamboled about his mind. voices overwhelmed his sense, submerging the hero into a fury of resounds that excruciatingly wailed into the drum of his ear. images stunned midoriya into an immoveable state, his meek plea for the dizzying motion of memories to cease inaudible.

he frantically thrashed his head about, even resorting to knocking his own head as to prevent the vigilante from further obstructing his thoughts. his fingers roughly fumbled with the roots of his hair. antagonized and subject of interest, izuku was devoid of perseverance. proper alternatives had yet to be created due to his inability to formulate coherent thought, but an inception of an adored recollection paused the whirring and performed an act before his eyes.

“if you’re obligating yourself to save others, who is going to protect you?” the question was far from anticipated. [yn]’s spontaneous and random query left izuku rambling under his breath, attempting to generate a logical response. his distracted yet engrossed expression of concentration erected a hearty laugh from [yn]’s gut. “don’t worry,” she peered at him through her fluttering lashes and prudently held his hand. “i’ll make sure you’re safe. that will always be my first priority, so don’t worry too much, okay?” she gifted his hand a reassuring squeeze and lead him towards his established headquarters.

the recollection brought a serene smile to his face, even more so whenever the shrill ache to his ears dulled at the perception of [yn]’s voice. she had been one to put his safety before his own, and while her action would continue to be interpreted as thoughtful, izuku would resent her efforts. she had no responsibly to selflessly sacrifice her life for his own. deku remained as reckless as he were in childhood, encountering death more times than he had his birthday. [yn] subjecting herself for his brash action was a calamity midoriya swore to prevent. if it were to require his last breath in place of hers, he would readily spare each fiber of his anatomy. he swore it; he swore to be dead before a wound be placed upon her skin, so how come his troth had been trampled?

ruin; his life had fallen to shambles just as deku began to reach the peak of euphoria. blemish; bruises of all shape and color indent her skin in concerning increments. urgency; izuku abandoned current threat as he rushed to [yn]’s area of impact, finding her battered figure abused and broken. explode; engulfing the male until he was erupting with overwhelming vexation.

timidly scooping her into his arms, izuku saddened at her dwindling complexion. “hold on, [yn]! bear with it just a little longer. paramedics should arrive any time now.”

she huffed a short giggle and drowsily blinked. “i’m not going to need them, izuku.” she rested her eyelids in contemplation, obviously musing over thought of her predicament, immobile extremities contorted in variations she could not identify. her chest awfully caved into her ribcage, belated breaths labored and much more harder to acquire.

“yes,” refusing to agree, midoriya argued with sense and continued to refute against her given claim. “you do need them, [yn]. once they arrive, they’ll take great care of you.”

the wounded woman hummed, not entirely bothering with bantering in opposition to the number one hero. “you want to know something funny, izu?” she utilized a nickname that hadn’t been brought up since elementary. the thought caused izuku’s heart to swell in accumulated grief.

he wanted to reprimand her. demand that she use the name whenever she’s healed and safe within his presence. “what is it, baby?” midoriya severed their professionalism and delicately brushed soothing stripes among her discolored cheeks.

[yn] smiled at the name, beaming an appreciative twinkle that still flickered with her harbored fondness. “my perception as to bidding farewell still hasn’t changed. i hate saying goodbye,” bitterly laughing at her circumstance, [yn] cracked a crooked smile, teeth bathed in scarlet blood but still possessing her undeniable charm. her jest of pity quickly turned sour whenever her sight involuntarily whisked into splotches of blurs, obscuring the male from her sight. her cheesy grin faltered into a wavering frown, her voice trembling as tears gathered in the wells of her eyes. “but, i think i have to.”

whimpers shook her shoulders and she weakly wiggled her fingers in an eager attempt to hold onto izuku; hold onto something to ground her to reality. was it selfish of her to make such a wish? express her truehearted desire? she longed for a few moments more, willing the black in her vision to subside for a chance to talk to her lover just a second more.

izuku cradled her slumped position in the crevice of his arms, brushing a thumb beneath her eyes as to wipe away her current sorrow. “if you hate it so much, don’t,” years intended to build midoriya into the hero he was today could not have prepared him for a scene such as this in thousands of centuries to come. he was a hero for fucks sake! his job was to defend and protect, but yet you could no longer muster the strength to weakly cling onto the sleeve of his costume. “don’t say goodbye. stay here with me, please, [yn]. you’ve made it this far, baby; achieved goals you formally thought impossible. your presence has generated sanction within the lives of people you hardly know. you’re so strong, [yn]. you’re brave and courageous. children look up to you and aspire to follow in your steps.

there’s so much of your life left to live. who says your journey has to conclude right now?” the fingers that previously clutched onto his emerald collar had steadily laxed from their coil, her drooping limb motioning to fall onto her lap. deku hastily grasped her wrist, bringing the cooling flesh of her palm against the firey hot beds of his cheeks. leaning into her vacant caress, the boy cried, “don’t leave me, [yn]. there’s so much more,” unresponsive to his outburst, [yn]’s soft gaze continued to peer upon izuku’s tear-filled optics. a lone droplet parted the corner of her glass eyes, obtaining midoriya’s desperate search for signs of persisting life. with a shudder he continued on, “there’s so much more i wish to do with you.”

he miserably searched for small ministrations; a twitch or quiver, perhaps the fluttering of her tear-swollen eyelids, but he received only the inanimate stare of [yn]’s dull hues. she had departed; left izuku to continue his journey alone. their vow splintered into fragments, falling to shards that clattered and emphasized the hero’s current state: heartache prompted by desolation.

spitefully, deku tightened his hold around her limp shoulders as he exclaimed frustrations to a sky who could not hear his snivels. “forever, right?” contradictory as to the pledge sealed by their past, eternity concluded far soon than anticipated. a pitiful disruption of izuku’s voice initiated angry sobs that vigorously dug his knees into the crumbled debris. “you promised me! you promised me, [yn]!” he screamed to the heavens as if he would summon you from the throne of clouds. “did our promise mean nothing? your place here is with me!”

deku beat upon his chest whenever his lungs began to constrict, depriving him of air to supplement his wheezing cry. hot tears wept his tormented figure. the droplets descended the hills of his cheek and splattered upon the lifeless complexion of his companion. “i promised to take our vow to the grave so why,” attacks of breathless inhales prompted an intermission as izuku’s sniffles dared to throttle his composure. “why are you the one to go first?”

[danipixel]

Dathomirian Promise

This is a short fluff story between my OC, Daia Veeral, and Maul. Daia is a former Jedi Knight who became a pilot and occasional smuggler. She and Maul met when she offered her services as a pilot/smuggler to him on Mandalore.

Lovefest is a made up Star Wars equivalent to Valentine's day.

Word count: 1,038

Red tinged morning light poured in through the window of Daia and Maul's bedroom when her eyes finally fluttered open.  She let out a quiet groan and buried her face in the pillow.  Waking up to sunlight in her eyes was not how she wanted to start her day.  She mumbled into the pillow, "Maul, I thought you closed the curtains last night."  Silence.  Her hands groped blindly behind her in hopes of finding her lover's sleeping body, if only to wake him up and make him suffer through the morning with her.  Nothing.  She forced herself into an upright position to search the room for any sign of Maul.  The refresher door was open with no light on.  No sounds of tea being brewed or the tapping of Maul's feet on the ground during his morning exercises reached her ears.  "Great.  He's working, isn't he?  Happy Lovefest to me."  She fell back onto the bed but her hand impacted on something hard lying on Maul's pillow.  "I told you, you'd turn into a datapad if you worked so much."  She brought the datapad into her field of view.  The screen lit up not with Syndicate data, but a simple message for her.  

'Good morning, my Star.  Meet me at the Nightsister Temple when you wake.'  

She supposed that was better than the alternative that he went back to work in the middle of the night.  Daia quickly went through her morning rituals and found some simple clothes before heading out to the temple.

The large temple was empty, as usual, but she could smell the incense Maul had lit as soon as she stepped inside.  "Maul?"  Silence greeted her as she made her way further inside.  The sconces built into the wall were all lit, so he must have still been inside somewhere.  She spoke a little louder this time.  "Shadow?"

"Here, by the altar."  He stood next to his mother's old altar lighting a pair of candles with green tinted flames.  He blended in to the red mists that managed to find their way in from the outside.  Maul may have been powerful on Mandalore, but here, he was truly at home.  One with the mysterious red world and comfortable with the customs and religion Daia was still learning to understand.  The sight of him relaxed and at a sort of peace warmed her heart every time.

"So,"  She crossed her arms once he turned to look at her. "what's so important that you had to meet me here first thing in the morning?"

Maul held his hand out in invitation to Daia.  "I have a gift for you."

She grinned and took his hand.  "Is it a baby rancor?"

"No."  He chuckled and pulled Daia in close before he placed a soft kiss on her forehead. "Not a baby rancor.  Something much smaller, and...larger as well."

She leaned into his warmth.  He was always warm.  "You're not making any sense."

Maul released his hold on Daia and took a step back from her.  He held her cheek with one hand and locked her gaze with his own.  "Just listen to me first.  Since we met on Mandalore, you have been the one constant in my life.  You stayed by my side when everything fell to shambles around us.  My soul is now inextricably bound to yours, as I hope yours is to mine."

"Of course it is.  What are you getting at?"  She noticed him quickly grab something from the altar.  Whatever the object was, it fit into his palm.

"I wanted to give you a token of that bond.  Something to keep with you when we must be apart."  Maul opened his hand and showed her what he had picked up off the altar.  A pair of rings, with one larger than the other.  Both appeared to be made of the same shining material but embellished with different metals and stones.  The larger ring was covered in a series of silver braids with an amethyst at the center of each braid.  The smaller ring was covered in the same pattern but with a black metal and brilliant red rubies in place of the violet amethyst.  They were truly works of art. "There is an inscription on the inside.  Both rings contain the same words."

Daia picked up the small red and black ring and inspected the interior side.  The inscription inside was written in a delicate flowing script.  'Light and Shadow.  Bound by the Force.'  "Maul, these are beautiful.  I...I don't know what to say."

He took hold of her hands and removed the ring from her palm.  "Say that you will remain bound to me.  Mind, body, and soul.  As I am to you."  He slid the ring onto the third finger of her left hand.  It fit her perfectly.  Of course it fit perfectly.

"Bound by the Force?"

Maul brought his forehead down to hers.  "What else could have brought you into my life?"

Daia slid the larger matching ring on the same finger on Maul's hand.  Again, a perfect fit.  "I love you."  She stood up on her toes and pulled him into a kiss for all the ghosts of Dathomir to bear witness.

Maul returned her kiss with equal fervor, wrapping arm around her body and tangling the other into her hair.  They stayed like that a few moments, sliding their lips together, with gentle brushes of their tongues against each other.   Eventually they pulled apart just enough to breathe in each other's breath.  "I love you."  He placed a few more light kisses against her lips and smiled into each one.

Daia pressed closely into his chest and tucked her head under his chin.  She had one more important question for him.  "Are you sure there's no baby rancor?"

Maul groaned and threw his head back to stare at the ceiling.  "You are maddening, do you know that?"  He dug his fingers into her sides just enough to make Daia yelp.

"Would you have me any other way?"  She placed a quick kiss on the tip of his nose.

Maul scrunched up his face slightly and laid his cheek on her head.  "No.  No I would not."

[fantasyinvader]

So, what about the endings? Let's just start with what Silver Snow's means compared to Crimson Flower's, because that might get my mental ball rolling.

We know why Edelgard is supposed to be the villain of the game from the developers. She's supposed to be the Hegemon archetype, someone who not just takes absolute control of Fodlan but dominates it. Basically she has all the power, she chooses who gets power and who doesn't, she invaded two nations to do so and even took over the Church afterwards. Overtly, this is being played as a positive thing but the route is underscored by the theme of ignorance. That there's a whole other side to this that you don't know, and what's more you've actively turned away from.

Think of it like this, your choices don't really matter in CF. Sparing Lysithea will net you an extra soldier, but what it won't do is unlock Ferdinand's paralogue nor does it change the story. Ditto any other recruit. Spare or kill Claude, Almyra attacks the following month and Edelgard's claims about how the Empire and them will get along because they don't believe in the Goddess don't hold any weight compared to Cyril/Hilda's paralogue. Nothing changes if you spare Flayn and Seteth outside of a cutscene, and Dimitri still dies even if you jump through the hoops to get the alternative death. And finally, your decision to side with Edelgard?

Fodlan is under the control of someone who wants to impose her ideology onto others (again, takes over the Church), who takes power for herself, who spreads false information and shifts the blame onto other parties. Again, Edelgard is supposed to not just rule but dominate the continent. She doesn't give up the job like she said she would, she's given no thought on how to give power to the masses, and instead elects to just purge the nobility of anyone not loyal to her. Edelgard is everything you were told you were fighting against after you chose to fight for her.

Now, you compare this to Silver Snow. You don't get the same kinds of choices in Silver Snow. The route will default there, you can't join Dimitri or Claude at Gronder, and at the end Byleth will choose to take up leadership of the shambles that is Fodlan. So, do choices really matter in this regard?

I think it's a matter of whose choices. We know that without player input, Byleth will automatically take up arms against Edelgard. And that's the point, and I'm going to swear I'm dead fucking sober writing this.

Silver Snow is about Byleth's character. It's their decision to fight against Edelgard, not ours. Hell, even the choice to go to Enbarr with her is framed as a change to the story. It's not supposed to happen, just like Byleth siding with Edelgard is not supposed to happen for that same exact reason. It's Byleth that's going to prove their worth by defeating the Empire without support from the Kingdom, Alliance or Almyra. It's Byleth who plans to use Imperial uniforms or sneak troops to Enbarr. It's Byleth that ultimately decides to lead Fodlan. Whomever had your support during the game will live, those you rejected or couldn't support die. Even if the player is ignorant of Fodlan, Byleth isn't and they'll be the one leading the continent after the war instead of us. The devs confirmed that the world was built to support Silver Snow's story, and the Edge of Dawn's three verses reflect the story of Silver Snow best of all.

Compare this to Byleth in CF. How according to Edelgard, they become distant and how someone pointed out they had the least amount of emotional actions in this route after the events of White Clouds saw them becoming more emotional. Not to mention how they liked teaching, only for Edelgard to marvel at how thoroughly she destroyed the Academy. How Byleth would allow Hubert and Edelgard to kill them if they can't “remain human.” It's not just them not ruling Fodlan afterwards, they have no place in Fodlan after the war other than taking out TWSITD, with their partner deciding what Byleth does outside of that. By siding with Edelgard, we the player took away who Byleth was.

We took their life away so that they could be OUR avatar (though one without customization). We DOMINATED Byleth because we WANTED to walk with Edelgard. Not Byleth, us whenever we choose that option. Even if you choose Claude or Dimitri, Byleth will still be Byleth. They'll still keep the stone that serves as their heart, not lose it like they do in Crimson Flower. They aren't us, we aren't them, so why do we try to make them more like us? Why do we want to pick out their hair color, or give them our birthday? Because rather than let them be themself, players want Byleth to be them.

Even if that means blindly supporting a tyrant because they don't know better,

[simping-on-the-daily]

I have to yet to fully develop them but boom boom bitches did you think I would stop making Dream SMP OCs? Hell nah

They both be a combination of Tales of the Dream SMP characters and actual Dream SMP characters

They're all canon and they will eventually have their own bios, but this is just a place to hold my notes basically

Toastie

Slime hybrid

They/she

Full name is Toastie Rickroll (based off the last names generally being memes)

I listened to Hamilton while making her so that helps

Fought for L'Manburg during the Independence Arc

Eventually joined Schlatt's cabinet for Manburg, but later resigned and helped join Pogtopia

Also became part of the Butcher Army

Currently apart of no faction

Respects tradition very well

Their family has fought and died for their respective countries for years

And Toastie carried on the tradition

Without something or someone to fight for Toastie kinda feels useless

They're so used to fighting that peace is basically a foreign concept to her

It doesn't help with all the wars

Toastie does what they do best: protect

And with L'Manburg gone, they now have someone (or a few someone's to care for)

Very fond of their old cabinet and her Butcher Army friends

Despises Techno and Dream for destroying L'Manburg on numerous occasions

Phil is very close to also getting on their negative list

Their most precious item is their enchanted Netherite axe, the Mindbreaker

Toastie confirms it's a family heirloom you get when you learn how to hold scissors correctly

It basically has the blood of people who fought against the country Toastie's family decided to fight for and were either killed or tortured with it

Toastie wants to try and guide it and herself on a more peaceful path, but they always end up going to violence

It's kinda engraved in her

Since she trusts Quackity due to experience, they give him their axe daily as long as he brings it back

They're unaware that Quackity's using it to torture Dream

Very protective and dedicated to fighting for those they care about

Tends to learn towards fighting as her first option and runs her mouth a lot

ThEy'Re BoUncY-

They can jump really high

Really likes swamps

If they ever get injured, the injured part can turn into miniature versions of themselves similar to tiny slimes and they'll attack their opponent

Absolutely despies Magma Cubes and will attack them whenever she can get the chance

Whisp

Wolf hybrid

But they're also a ghost!

Their real name is Whisper, and their full name is Quiet Whispers

She/Her

Large grey ears on their head

Long tail that can fade sometimes due to ya know, death

Really fun to chew on bones despite the fact that she doesn't need to eat them and she can't even digest them

She can bond with other people and she can track the people she's bonded with

Can bite really hard, has enhanced speed and strength, and they also have a pretty pogchamp smell and eyesight

Despite the fact that's she pretty powerful, Whisp is a strict pacifist who only hung around L'Manburg due to having numerous friends there

Somehow the only ghost to have a decent fucking memory of her life

Remembers good and bad, though she sometimes wishes she doesn't

Red sweaters boiiisssss

Very forgiving and kind

But a really giant people pleaser and self-sacrificial

Her self worth is based on what people think of her

Tries her best to get on everyone's good side

It breaks her if someone dislikes her

Grew up in a really shitty household where Whisp was basically ignored

So she grew up trying to gain the affection that her family never gave her

Really fucking touch-starved

Just pretty bad self esteem, even when she's dead

Please just tell her that she means something outside of other people's opinions and that she's an amazing human being

Absolutely adores animals!

Has numerous pet cafes

Like, so many gosh dang cafes

There's one for cats, one for dogs, and then there's a giant miscellaneous one

They're all part of the same building and that's also another part of it which is basically her house

BFFs with Ghostbur

Please protect her and tell her that she's amazing she really needs it

Sunny

Full name is Sunny Wholesun

Last name is a pun off 'wholesome' and 'sun'

Very proud of it

She's an angel boissss

She/her

Very simliar to Bad in terms of personality

They're both very sweet and will help anyone

Isn't a part of any countries

She just pops in when she wants to,,,,,

Conflict freaks her out

Optimsitc pal that just chooses to look on the bright side of things,,,,

However-

She wants to desperately try and be her own person outside of 'Bad but angelic' but she keeps getting compared to him

She feels like she keeps being in people's shadows despite being a literal creature of purity and light

Feels like a side character honestly

Good friends with Phil, but disapproves of his title, most notably due to it having death in it

Said to know Dream XD and the other gods of the server

Absolutely understand very dirty stuff, but chooses to ignore it

Also can understand war and sadness

Sunny just kinds chooses to keep holding her head up high

In her own words "If you always keep thinking of sad things, you'll always be sad"

And now the TOTDS ones

Lady Venus

From the Masquerade timeline

Ghast hybrid royalty

Berothed to Sir Billiam the III since birth

Very much married and in love

She's pretty kind for a royal

Or at the very least more nicer

Treats her servants well and gives them pay as well as vacation days

However, she lacks empathy and is somewhat insensitive

Doesn't understand that some people don't have the same social privilege's as her

So she can piss some people off

Her main butler was Ryan and he was basically her best friend outside of Billiam and Ranbutler

However, Ryan got angry and ended up assassinating her

Spear in the chest

Felt incredibly betrayed since Ryan was one of her few friends and died feeling fear and shock

Billiam ended up executing Ryan

With the death of his lover, Billiam aligned with the Egg due it promising to bring Venus back if he swore alliance to it

She remains a ghost, but neither Ranbutler, Billiam or anyone else can't see her

Venus absolutely despises the Egg for corrupting her family, but at the same time, truly believes it can bring her back to life, so she needs it

Her spear ridden body is in the same room as the Egg, therefore corrupting her body, and therefore her ghost, which is connected to it

Whenever Billiam or Ranbutler go down there, it ended up motivating the two further in order to bring Venus back

She clings to the hope that when the Egg brings her back to life, she can reunite with her husband and adoptive son once more and forget the Egg

She know it won't happen but hope is kinda the only thing she has

At the Masquerade, she was only able to be seen and talk to Karl due to him being from another time

Truly felt bad about his death, but didn't stop it since she wanted to live again

Without her being able to produce a heir, the Ghast royal family basically went in shambles and they all eventually died, making the Ghasts a free place with no government or hierarchy

I really love Venus as she's a very fun character to do and also very sad

Supports Ranbutler rights

Meanings

From the Village That Went Mad

Morals' ancestor

My friend compared her to that Chris girl from Carrie and I love it

She's a complete and utter asshole

Like, a full on fucking dick

Horrible person to be around

She's a villager, but absolutely everyone wanted her dead due to being a full on bitch

Jimmy theorizes that this is because of her mother also being the Enderdragon and either feeling like she's on top of everyone because of it, or that she feels inferior because Meanings isn't her mum so she acts like a dick to cover it up

It's either one of those two options

Just a full on fucking dick

I also love playing her because she's a really fun character

Horrible person, yes

But absolutely hilarious to play as

Maggie/Michael

From the Lost City of Mizu

I don't consider Mizu to be the official future, but rather an alternate reality, so bear with me in mind for that

I feel really smart with her name

It means Pearl, and you know

Mizu being an underwater city and all that?

Michael means 'who is like God', which refers to her best friend's......love for a past figure

They're genderfluid! Mostly goes by she/her, though on some days, they go with he/him

Her relationship with Ranbob is very similar to the one between Morals' and Dream

Since I don't see the story as a possible canon future but instead another alternate reality, she's not a descendant of anyone

And you know what? You wanna know what?

She's a cow hybrid now

Why? Because I said so

Remove Ranbob's very yandere personality and their friendship is friendship goals

Heck, even with it, it's still friendship goals

I will defo have more but those are the only Tales of the Dream SMP episodes I've watched, so-

[h3rmitsunited]

He Ruined My Life (But Todd, Did He? Did He Really?)

Read On Ao3

Todd smiled slightly at the middle finger his sister flashed at him before closing the door behind her. It was a very normal move for her, despite the shambles that their relationship was in, and the fact that she had even bothered to talk to him at all gave him hope that maybe there’s a way to fix things eventually. Todd let out a breath he didn't realize he was holding in, as he let Amanda's surprisingly wise words wash over him. Dirk's face flashed in his mind, the hurt and shock and pain distorting his expression when Todd had spoken to him cruelly ripped him apart hours earlier... or days ago...out at that pier. Todd rushed into the bathroom, fighting back a sick feeling in his stomach, huffing and gasping over the sink, and caught a glimpse of his face in the mirror. His own words echoed in his ears.

You're a monster. You ruined my life. You deserve to be alone.

It wasn’t Dirk that deserved those words. Todd glared into his own eyes in the mirror. Todd could feel his self-destructive tendencies blazing inside him, his mind swirling with self-hatred.

Asshole, you're such an asshole, you always do this, Dirk stayed after you told him what an asshole you were and you just drove him away, you treated him like crap, you deserve to be alone, he deserves so much better than you, God, you're such a piece of sh-

Todd squeezed his eyes shut and pressed his hands hard against his face, shaking his head. He remembered Amanda looking down at him yesterday morning right before she climbed into that van and left him behind.

You're exactly the piece of shit everyone thinks you are.

The feeling wasn’t unfamiliar to him, it had soaked into every part of his life, and he had been drowning in it for years. Even before Amanda’s first attack, he felt it, less then than he did after her attack, but he couldn’t deny that most of his sober moments were spent wallowing in shame and self-hatred and guilt, even if he did nothing to change that part of who he was. His selfishness had won out every single time until Amanda had become a part of it.

But the question was how does he move forward now? The glare of his eyes in the mirror had faded, replaced by a sad exhausted resignation that weighed his whole body down. Todd sighed, and turned, looking back out of the bathroom at the destroyed remains of his apartment, at the spot Amanda had been standing a few minutes earlier. She was right, of course, as always. He had always thought that she was way too smart, definitely much smarter than he’s ever been. He shook his head. She was right about Dirk. She was right and he screwed it all up. Dirk had come into his life for a reason. Dirk had made him better. Dirk hadn’t let him wallow in his self-deprecating crap, and in barely over a week, Dirk had completely changed his life. Most importantly, Dirk definitely didn't deserve any of the shit that Todd had said to him.

Todd’s stomach clenched as another nauseating wave of guilt crashed over him. He needed to fix things, to make things right with Dirk. Even if Dirk deserved a much better friend than Todd, he was all he had, for now...well and Farah, probably (Todd wasn’t exactly sure what she wanted to talk to them about later...she may have decided that Dirk’s special brand of crazy bullshit was too...crazy for her). Todd felt an unfamiliar burst of certainty, a feeling he experienced more since meeting Dirk, and rushed to grab what he needed from his apartment before running out the door.

_____________

The weight of his backpack straps pressed into his shoulders and grounded the swirling angsty thoughts clouding Todd’s mind. Now walking up to the hospital entrance from the bus stop, he could only manage to focus on the ache in his body. Surprisingly, spending 8 days straight running, falling, jumping, digging, running more, getting hit, shot at, and electrocuted can make your muscles a little bit stiff, especially if you’ve spent the last... 10 years barely exercising more than going up and down the stairs to your apartment and running to the bus stop. If this is what every case with Dirk was like, Todd would get into shape very quickly... if Dirk even wants me around, his mind reminded him bitterly. He shook the thought away, glancing up as he passed by a serious looking man with a mustache who gave him a strange look and kept quickly walking away. Something in Todd’s chest tightened, though he wasn’t sure why, and he turned back and watched the man walk into the parking lot, back to a large black SUV illegally parked by the curb with government plates. Todd hoped that wasn’t anything to do with Dirk, but with everything that had happened to him the last few days, he knew better now than to ignore a coincidence. He turned back and rushed into the entrance.

His head swam as everything hit him at once. The nothing smell, the flurry of noises, coughs and cries from the people in the waiting room sitting with squirming children and talking in hushed and strained voices on their phones, the rush of the nurses behind the desk at the front, the overwhelming sense of tension, everything brought him back to the last time he was in a hospital, that first time Amanda had an attack seven years ago. The tightness in his chest squeezed even tighter. He could hear that frantic voicemail his mother had left as they rode in the ambulance to the hospital, Amanda’s terrified screams in the background, he still had it saved on his phone. He hadn't bothered to answer when they called. He remembered waking up and hearing it ring, looking at the phone screen blearily before turning over and falling back to sleep. He didn't check the voicemail until hours later, as well as dozens of frantic texts and multiple more missed calls, and when he heard what his mother was saying, he ran to the bathroom and vomited, telling himself it was because of his hangover and not the heavy pit that suddenly dropped into his stomach. The rush to get to the hospital was a blur. He remembered driving way too fast, and that was about it. When he finally arrive, his parents barely registered his haggard appearance, barely registered him at all, his mother just broke into rambling anxious explanations of what happened and what the doctor said and every test they were doing, and that Amanda was sedated because she wouldn’t stop screaming, wouldn’t stop clawing at her skin, her eyes terrified, shouting about the bugs crawling into her mouth, her eyes, her nose, under her skin. His mother cried. His father stood, eyes blank, glazed over, but his hands shaking. Todd barely registered anything after that. He stared silently at his sister, his baby sister, small and frail in the hospital bed, her arms strapped down, dark red scratches across her skin. His mind went blank, for what must have been hours, until the nurse came in and gently let them know they would need to leave for the night, and they would call if anything changed. He had gotten in his car and just screamed and sobbed and pounded his steering wheel.

Todd’s mind returned to the present, but he could still feel the ghost of the ache in his hands from that steering wheel. He forced his thoughts away, knowing that if he let himself, he would get lost in the memory. Things are different now. You're here for Dirk. You're here to make things right. He marched up to the front desk, waiting politely until one of the nurses glanced up and smiled, catching the exhausted look in his eyes. Todd noticed the ice cream cones on her pink scrub top and absently smiled, thinking of Dirk's ties. The nurse brushed a strand of hair that had come out of her ponytail out of her face and cleared her throat.

"How can I help you?" Todd took a moment to register what she said, he opened his mouth gaping at her for surely too long before he responded.

"Dirk-!" He blurted out when he remembered why he was there. He cleared his throat, embarrassed at his sudden outburst. The nurse watched him curiously, narrowing her eyes slightly. "Sorry... long night," he mumbled and coughed into his hand. "I’m.... uh...I'm here to see Dirk... Gently. Last name, Gently, First name, Dirk? He was brought in... last night...or...earlier today?” Spending half of the day yesterday traveled back to 8 days before made telling what time anything was slightly more complicated... It was at least dark when they got to the Spring Mansion though, so.... “Last night, I think...Detective Estevez brought him in, he had some arrows in his shoulder... lost some blood...a lot of blood." He shivered remembering the sight of Dirk's shirt under his blue jacket, just soaked in his blood. His face had been so pale. It was not pretty. Amanda’s words replayed in his head. He glanced back up at the nurse who was now typing into the computer, seemingly ignoring the rest of his rambling before she looked back up at him.

"Right, Dirk Gently. Are you family?" Todd stuttered.

“Uh... not really...” She narrowed her eyes again. “We’re...” He struggled to define what they were. Were they still friends? Assistant and his detective? He couldn’t very well tell her he was an assis-friend... “Partners.” Good enough, he supposed, and technically mostly true.

The nurse seemed to soften slightly, and Todd suddenly realized the alternate implication of what he said. He blushed but didn’t bother to correct the assumption.

“Name?”

"Todd. Todd Brotzman, spelled B-R-O-T-Z-M-A-N.” She started typing again. Todd pressed up against the edge of the desk, tapping his fingers anxiously. "Is he okay? I mean, he was in bad shape, really bad, and I'm just... worried, you know? He doesn't have anyone else."

Her eyes crinkled into a sympathetic look. He watched as her eyes turned back to the computer and scanned the screen. She nodded and smiled.

"He came out of surgery about an hour and half ago. He's resting in his room. Should wake up once the anesthesia wears off, but he's stable. He’ll be okay." She glanced back at the screen. "Room 315, you can take those elevators," she pointed to the hallway to the left, and Todd could see the silver doors of the elevators, "up to the third floor, and follow the signs. There's another desk up there if you get lost." Todd nodded appreciatively and started to walk away. "Oh, and you may have company, looks like his father came in to see him earlier, doesn’t look like we have a check out time for him yet." Todd felt the pit in his stomach return.

"What?"

"His father?" The nurse responded, she glanced back at the screen. "Scott? Had some military ID?" Todd tried to wipe the look of panic off his face and nodded again, more forcefully. The black SUV with the military plate, the man with the moustache, that involuntary clench in his chest. He knew it had meant something.

"Thank you for your help." He managed to bite out before walking quickly over to the elevators.

Blackwing. Dirk hadn’t told him much about the organization, but Todd knew enough to know that it was bad news if they were paying him a visit here. Todd remembered back to a few nights ago. Dirk had spent way too long just "getting his magic lightbulb from the car", and when Todd found him at his car, Dirk was completely out of sorts. Dirk had confessed Blackwing had come to bring him back in again, that they had held him captive as a child, had spent years studying him. Todd couldn't forget the haunted look in Dirk's eyes when he said that name, or the terrifying ease that he vanished the expression from his face when they walked back into Todd's apartment, only shooting Todd a warning glance that Todd understood to mean, 'keep that to yourself.' A couple days later, while they drove back from the nature preserve with Patrick Spring’s machine in the back of the jeep, Dirk had gone into more excruciating detail as to the extent of what “studying him” meant in Blackwing terms. Todd had been grateful then that he was driving, his hands gripped painfully tight on the steering wheel, allowing him to keep his eyes trained on the winding roads, while Dirk bared his painful past to him. The fear in Dirk’s voice had sent a chill up Todd’s spine, and he burned with anger about what Dirk, and all those children had gone through because of what Blackwing thought they could be molded into.

The elevator doors dinged, and Todd waited as an orderly pushed an empty wheelchair out into the hallway. He could almost have laughed as he pressed the floor number, recalling his strange elevator experience several days ago that started all of this... strangeness. Todd’s panic escalated as the painfully slow elevator moved up the floors. What if Blackwing was here to take Dirk? What if he was already gone? What if they grabbed him after his surgery? He’s all alone. He thinks I hate him. The elevator let out another tinny ding and the doors scraped open. Todd followed the signs down the hall towards Dirk's room. The hospital noises closed in around him, the soft beeping, mechanical hums, and quiet television sounds pressing in, sending a chill across his skin. He rubbed his hand over his sleeve, willing the goosebumps away. He could see the number on the wall at the end of the hall. 315. The door was closed. He wondered what he would find behind it. If Dirk would be surrounded by strange men, clad in black, toting guns, pulling him away... it was ridiculous to think, but they had traveled in time yesterday, and switched a dog and a girl’s soul, so it was less ridiculous than some things... Todd took a breath and paused for just a moment before he pushed open the door. The breath choked him in his throat.

The bed was empty. It was empty.

He was too late.

They took him. That man in the parking lot. Todd felt his anger sparking up inside, but it was drowned out by an overwhelming feeling of guilt and sorrow.

They took Dirk, and he would never know how sorry he was for what he said. That he didn't think he was a monster, that he didn't deserve to be alone, he deserved friends and people that cared about him. Todd struggled to catch his breath. He needed to go, needed to try to find that man, to find Dirk. Todd felt his eyes start to prickle again when someone placed a hand on his shoulder. Todd flipped around quickly, half expecting Dirk to be standing there grinning at him. He came face to face with a nurse, one hand holding a purple clipboard. She looked at him confused.

"Sir?" Todd pulled back, glancing around at the empty room.

"Sorry. I thought-" His voice crackled with emotion. "My friend-" Todd looked around the empty room, his expression lost. The nurse looked back at him carefully.

"Why don't we make sure you're in the right room, before assuming the worst, dear." She guided him out of the empty room, down the hallway, to the nurse’s station. "What's the name?"

"Todd-" He replied absently before realizing what she meant. "Sorry, Dirk. Dirk Gently. He had... arrows...blood." Todd turned back again to the door to the empty room. The numbers mocked him from the wall. "Downstairs, she said 315." He heard the nurse let out an exasperated sigh, and he turned quickly back to her.

"Sorry, hun." Todd braced himself, expecting the worst. She continued talking. "Someone typed the room number wrong.” She rolled her eyes. “He's in 310."

"Really?" Todd asked incredulously, overwhelming relief filling his body. The nurse clacked away at the keyboard, presumably fixing the error in the system, and then looked back at Todd.

"Yeah, typos happen. He's okay though. By himself again, his other visitor left not too long ago."

"He's still in there?" Todd asked, gazing blankly down the hall, only half paying attention.

"No, he left..." The nurse responded impatiently. Todd looked back at her confused. "His visitor left," she said more firmly.

"No, uh, sorry, Dirk? Dirk's still in there? He didn't leave with...anyone?" The nurse rolled her eyes, shook her head.

“No. He’s just barely out of surgery. He can’t go anywhere until the doctor clears him to leave. You’re Todd Brotzman, right?” She asked, her fingers clicking over the keyboard. “His…partner?” Todd’s heart stuttered, but he nodded.

“Yes. I’m his…partner. Todd.” She smiled and typed something else into the computer.

“Great, well, he’s very lucky to have you. I’m sure he will be happy to see you when he wakes up.” She said with a wave down the hall to Dirk's room. She walked back around the desk and started pulling files from the shelves. Todd watched her for a moment and realized that he had been dismissed. He could feel the panic rising again, the sound and the smell and the sight of the hospital was bringing back that heavy guilty weight in his body. The sound of his mother's high-pitched frantic voice when she saw Todd walking into the hospital. How she had looked at him like she had failed, that she had condemned both of her children to have to (as far as she knew) suffer with this horrible disease. Todd blinked the memory away, staring back down at the empty hallway.

He walked quickly towards Dirk’s room, expecting to have the same hesitating moment before pushing open the door, but it was already open, and just as the nurse said, somewhat anticlimactically, there he was. Alone. No obvious Blackwing threatening him. No serious moustache man looming in the corner. Just Dirk.

Todd let out a heavy breath, and felt his muscles relax slightly. He stepped quietly into the dimly lit room, and pulled the door shut behind him, blocking out the triggering sights and sounds and smells outside, and allowing himself the small reprieve and comfort of closing him and Dirk away from the rest of the world, for just a moment. Todd's ears rang in the stark quiet of the room. The only sound was the steady beeps of the machine hooked up to Dirk, and the soft puff of his breath. It startled Todd to realize how relieved he felt to hear Dirk breathing. Todd stepped further into the room. He felt nervous. Why did he feel so nervous? Looking over at the heart monitor, he was suddenly very glad that he wasn't the one hooked up to that thing. Given the pounding in his chest, he was sure it would be beeping like crazy. He stopped at the end of Dirk's bed, picking at his fingers.

Dirk was so still, and quiet. Sleeping calming, his expression was smooth, the blood and grime now carefully cleaned from his skin. Todd could see the white of a bandage sticking out from the collar of the pale blue hospital gown. He stepped closer, reaching out to smooth the hair sticking up at the edge of Dirk’s forehead, but he stopped, and pulled his hand away before he could brush over the auburn hair. His mind recalled his harsh words, and his guilty pit pressed down in his gut. Todd stepped away, back to the end of the bed, his nerves sparking with nervous energy. Desperate for a distraction, he quietly picked up the chart hanging on the end of Dirk’s bed, his eyes scanning over the name at the top. Gently, Dirk. For some reason, he felt calmer, just knowing it was actually Dirk, given that this quiet man in the hospital bed was drastically different the Dirk that Todd had come to know. He scanned quickly through the notes in the chart, catching some familiar words, but most of it was just gibberish to his medically incompetent and extremely distracted brain. He relaxed reading a line at the bottom stating that Dirk was stable and could be discharged later today once cleared by the doctor. Todd carefully placed the chart back on the end of the bed and looked back up at Dirk.

Something about being in a hospital bed makes everyone seem so fragile. He remembered how Amanda looked, all the tubes and monitors and cords, the straps around her arms. Dirk was fortunately lucky enough that he wasn’t dealing with pararibulitis, and his injury didn’t require him to be restrained in order to keep him from hurting himself while he recovered, but Todd still felt the same sick weight in his gut looking down at him in the bed. He just looked wrong. Dirk was supposed to be bright and alive and speaking ten million words a minute jumping from idea to idea. This man was too quiet, too gray. He looked ten years younger, and ten years older at the same time. In the dim light of the window, Todd could make out the dark shadows lining his eyes, and red of the healing burns on his face that Todd fondly recalled gently covering with those stupid pink bandages. Todd shifted on his feet and the weight of his backpack reminded him of the precious items he had brought, a peace offering. He hoped that the familiar color would bring the vibrancy back to his friend. Dirk didn’t look right without it, and the pale, ‘almost died several hours ago from blood loss’ look of his skin made Todd feel nauseous.

He noticed a chair resting at the edge of the wall and pulled it forward, slightly closer to the bed, but not too close. Todd's stupid, angry, ‘projecting his own shit on other people’ brain sort of messed things up, and he wasn't sure if Dirk waking up to Todd much closer than he was would be a comfort... or an unwelcome surprise. Given everything Dirk had said and done since Todd met him nine days ago, Todd definitely should have known the answer to that question, but he was never the most emotionally competent person, and he preferred to blatantly ignore the idea that someone might actually like being around him in favor of self-flagellating from across the room.

His body still buzzed with anxious energy as he sat down, but he could feel the creep of exhaustion pulling at the edges of his consciousness. He shook his head, trying to force himself to stay awake, and shifted to pull his backpack off. He pulled out his phone and texted Farah a quick update on Dirk and the possible Blackwing visitor earlier. A moment later, he could see she started typing, and waited until her response popped up. She texted, 'ok we'll talk about it at the diner later. lots to discuss.' Todd responded with a quick 'sounds good. will let you know if anything changes.' Send. A thumbs up from Farah. Todd stuffed the phone into his pocket and dropped the backpack on the floor. He leaned back in the chair and sighed, glancing out of the window through the thin gaps in the window shade. His heartbeat and breaths slowly synced up with the beeps of Dirk’s heart monitor and Todd barely noticed as the edges of his vision darkened and he faded into sleep.

Dirk shifted in his sleep, shifting his wounded shoulder, sending a burst of pain into his nerves, and he woke up with a soft gasp. He could hear the beeping of the heart monitor slow down as the pain receded into a dull ache and he took in his surroundings. He barely remembered the detective man dragging him into the hospital...whenever that had been, hours or days ago, he remembered a lot of blood, and being very tired and then he was here. It was rare for him to be somewhere so quiet, the dim lights and the sterile room, the almost oppressive silence, and the aching feeling in his body reminded him uncomfortably of his time at Blackwing. But this is the hospital. He’s not at Blackwing. He’s in the hospital. Even if Colonel Riggins… His heart started to race, mind spiraling into paranoid thoughts, and he felt his breath catch in his lungs, until his eyes landed on the chair across the room, slightly hidden in the shadows, holding his lightly snoring... friend? Ex-friend? Assis-friend? Todd. He felt a wave of relief. Todd wouldn’t be in Blackwing. His panic faded from his vision, and he heard the heart monitor’s frantic beeping slow. Dirk stared at Todd, he knew Todd would have felt uncomfortable by it if he were awake, but he’s not awake, so… he stared. He’s quite surprising, not at all what he expected when he first saw Todd at the Perriman Grand as he ran up to the penthouse, though in his life, he should be used to not having any sort of expectations for anything, since they mostly always end up completely wrong in very strange and unexpected ways, so… Dirk fought to quell the fluttering of hope threatening to overtake his mind, the hope that Todd brought by sitting there across the room. He reminded himself of Todd’s words. How angry he had been. That he never wanted to see Dirk again… It’s not like it should be surprising. Dirk had learned a long time ago that people didn’t stick around him, they got tired of him and his weird behavior, his chaotic life, even if they acted like they liked it…or liked him. They always left. And he would be alone. Just like he always was.

Dirk frowned and looked back at Todd. But maybe… he didn’t have to be alone? Todd let out another soft snore and shifted in the chair. Dirk wondered what could have made Todd return. They had solved the Spring case. Sent the machine back. Presumably, Farah took Lydia somewhere, maybe the detective man was helping her… but Todd, here was Todd, sleeping in his hospital room, waiting for… something. For what? Another case, always another case to solve. The Todd case, a particularly difficult one. Dirk thought through the facts. What he knew about Todd. He was unemployed, and his apartment was practically unlivable, perhaps he wanted to stay in Dirk’s new apartment until he could figure out what to do next? No, that would require spending time around Dirk, and he had said he never wanted to see him again. Maybe, something with Amanda? Perhaps he still hoped Dirk could fix things for him, could help with Amanda… somehow? The time-travel bit didn’t work, but maybe Todd thought something holistic might help? That could be it, right? Dirk watched Todd’s eyes twitch in his sleep. Dirk frowned and shook his head slightly. No, but Todd knew, he saw how Dirk’s… ‘thing’ worked. He knew that it didn’t work like that. Dirk sighed and rubbed a hand over his face. His heart sank. Maybe Todd was still mad at him. Maybe he just came here to make sure Dirk knew he was serious about what he said. To say good-bye. Dirk pressed his head back into the pillows. He was exhausted. His shoulder throbbed with a dull and slowly sharpening ache. His head swam with the remnants of whatever anesthesia and medications they had given him. He just didn’t have anything else to give, and he certainly wasn’t looking forward to being shouted at again, or called a monster, or blamed for all the extraneous side effects of the case, things that he had no control over… He took a breath, letting the familiar tingling waves of the universe come to life in his nerves. The ever-present push that guided him where he needed to go, that told him where he was supposed to be was quiet, resting…satisfied. This was where Dirk was supposed to be. He sighed, resigned to whatever fate would bring him next. He’d never had control over his life before, so no use trying to force it now.

He swallowed thickly, his dry throat immediately protesting, and he coughed. He flicked his eyes to Todd, hoping the noise didn’t wake him, and gratefully, it didn’t, delaying their inevitable conversation when he finally did wake up. Dirk glanced around the bed for some sort of call button, smiling triumphantly finding it on the table beside him, (and wisely placed on his uninjured side) the button glowing softly. It was barely two minutes after pressing the button when the door swung open, bumping the wall with a soft thud, and a nurse with a kind face strode in, clutching a purple clipboard in her hand.

“Mr. Gently. Awake at last, I see.” She said, her voice a normal volume, but in the quiet of the room, sounding extremely loud. Dirk flinched and glanced over at Todd, who shifted slightly in his sleep, but didn’t wake. The nurse looked over at Todd, a look of recognition passing over her face, then smiled apologetically back at Dirk. “How are you feeling?” She asked more softly, walking closer to the bed.

“Much better, actually. Thank you. The blood’s staying inside my body now, so practically back to normal, I’d say.” His voice crackled limply out of his dry throat, despite his fruitless attempts to return to his typical levels of manic speech. He cleared his throat. “I’m pretty thirsty though. Water’s fine, but could I perhaps bother you for a cup of tea?” She smiled, putting up one finger, asking him to wait, and reached out to the collar of his gown, pausing a moment until Dirk nodded, somewhat unsure of what she was doing when he only asked her for a cup of tea. He was fairly certain a cup of tea wasn’t some American slang for ‘please take my clothes off’, but he’d never been to Seattle before, and he wasn’t going to be rude to someone that is helping keep him alive…so... She pulled the loose collar away from his shoulder, and carefully checked the bandages, brushing gently over the gauze. Of course, she was checking the bandages. Stupid Dirk. He rolled his eyes at himself.

“Doesn’t look like it’s bleeding too much.” She glanced at a small patch of red soaking through the bandages. “We’ll get this changed again before you go, and make sure you, or your partner,” she motioned to Todd still sleeping. Was that a blush creeping up on his face? Dirk watched for any signs that he was actually awake, and the nurse kept talking. “know how to change it. I’ll let the doctor know you’re awake. She should come in soon to check on you, and if everything looks good, you should be able to go home today.” Home. That stupid word always squeezed painfully at his heart. He shook the feeling away, like he always does and nodded. The nurse smiled at him. “And I’ll see about that cup of tea.” Dirk grinned back.

“Oh, thank you. You have no idea how much I need one. As you can probably tell, I’m from England, it’s practically essential for me to live.” The nurse gave him an amused look, glanced over at Todd again, and left, shutting the door quietly behind her. Dirk sighed and leaned back in the bed, keeping one eye on Todd who shifted again in his chair.

“I know you’re awake.” Todd smiled, his eyes still closed for a moment before he cracked them open. He sighed and stretched his arms out above him and arched his back, groaning.

“How are you feeling?” Todd said, looking pointedly at his injured shoulder. He hadn’t pulled the hospital gown back up over his chest after the nurse checked his bandage. “Is it still bleeding?” Dirk looked down as he reached up and touched at the red spot of dried blood that had seeped through.

“The nurse said that it looked okay, didn’t look like it was actively bleeding anymore. They’re supposed to come check it and change the bandages in a bit.” Todd hummed, apparently satisfied with the answer. Dirk remembered what the nurse had said about Todd and blushed. Partner. “How long were you awake?” He wondered if she just assumed their relationship about them, or, maybe, Todd had said something... If he was blushing because he did hear and he did say something… He wasn’t about to ask him directly though. Not right now.

“Not that long… Just at the end there. Your tea excitement woke me up.” He smiled, but it didn’t reach his eyes.

“What about you? How are you feeling?” Dirk asked, studying the dark rings under Todd’s eyes, the heavy slump of his shoulder. Todd’s forehead wrinkled.

“Me?” He shook off Dirk’s concern, forcing himself to sit up. “Fine. I’m good. I’m not the one that had two arrows in his body and lost all his blood.” Todd smirked, fighting to be as casual as possible, despite his conflicted emotions bubbling just under the surface.

“Sure, but you also did have an alarming amount of electricity go through your body… and I’m pretty sure one of those machine guys tried to strangle you at one point? You were in just about as bad shape as I was last night… plus you don’t have the benefit of all the free pain medication.” Dirk said smiling, trying to keep his voice light. Todd frowned.

“Free? You do realize you’re in America now right? They don’t just hand that stuff out. Sure hope the universe has good health insurance.” Todd said, laughing under his breath. Dirk blanched.

“Right…” Dirk blinked and then shrugged. “Doesn’t matter. I don’t think that will be a problem.” Todd shrugged and rolled his eyes. He wasn’t about to argue with that, Dirk had obviously figured out something that worked for him…sort of… who’s he to tell him different. Todd rubbed a hand over his arm. Dirk frowned. “You sure you’re alright, Todd?” Todd looked up at him, an unreadable expression on his face. He shook his head, looked down at his hands resting in his lap, and sighed. He made no move to respond, sitting quietly. Dirk leaned forward towards him “Todd?” Todd’s head rose up again, his eyes rimmed with red, and mouth tight. He shook his head, blinking away tears that started to fill his eyes.

“I’m not… I’m not really… good at this, Dirk. I haven’t…” He shook his head, letting his hands fall open in front of him. “I don’t know how to do this.” Dirk’s frown deepened. Distantly, he could hear the beeping of the heart monitor speed up again, but his focus was on Todd.

“Do what?” Todd shook his head and didn’t answer. What could Todd possibly be talking about? Dirk usually didn’t mind not having the answers, was pretty patient about waiting for the universe to just show him what he was supposed to know, but this was excrutiating. “Todd, come on. Do what?”

“Fix things?” He said with a shrug. Dirk cocked his head to the side. Todd let out a frustrated sigh. “I don’t know… To fix everything? Fix my life? I mean I screwed everything up with Amanda, she hates me, my job, my apartment, my life is destroyed, and,” he paused and looked up at Dirk, his eyes bright and glistening in the light coming through the window shade. “You… I-“ Todd choked on his words, staring at his hands and shaking his head. Dirk was...confused. They solved the case. Todd could move on. He didn’t have to deal with Dirk messing everything up again. Was he still angry with Dirk, that his ‘power’ isn’t enough to fix what he did to Todd’s life, that he lied to Todd?

“Todd...I... I don’t understand? What I said… I’m sorry. I know you don’t want anything to do with me anymore… but I can’t… help you…I don’t… I can’t fix things with Amanda… it’s not…how it-“ Dirk looked up from where he’d been staring at his lap. Todd had stood up, his face even more broken up that before, guilt deforming every feature of his expression. Dirk stopped in his rambling attempts to apologize, and Todd shook his head and walked to the side of Dirk’s bed.

“Dirk. No, I-” He groaned, frustrated at his inability to say what he means. His eyes met Dirk’s, and neither could look away. “I’m sorry. Dirk, I didn’t come here for you to fix my mistakes... and I never should have said any of what I did to you. I was angry at myself. I ruined my own life, and when I realized that there wouldn’t be an easy solution to fix it... you were just there, the perfect target for me to blame everything on. That wasn’t fair of me, and I’m sorry, Dirk.” Todd blinked back the shine that was filling his eyes and turned away. “I’m sorry that you ended up with an asshole for a friend, and I don’t know how to fix that, to fix what I’ve done.” Todd was close enough to the bed that Dirk was able to reach out and take Todd’s hand in his. Todd looked up, surprised, the sound of the beeping heart monitor in the background. Dirk didn’t say anything, but the unfiltered and sincere fondness and forgiveness in his expression was a clear enough answer that even Todd understood. “I really am sorry, Dirk. And I understand if you don’t want me around anymore.” Dirk smiled and rolled his eyes.

“You really don’t get it do you?” Dirk had a playful glint in his eyes. “We were meant to know each other, it’s destiny, the will of the universe, fate... or something.... I can feel it, so that means no arguing... and no more calling yourself an asshole. Because you’re not.” Todd opened his mouth to deny it, but Dirk lifted a finger to silence him. “Nuh-uh. You apologized, and that was quite a lovely apology, Todd. Now, you just have to be better. That’s how you fix it.” Todd frowned.

“What if I screw things up again?”

“Don’t worry, Todd.” Dirk grinned. “I know you will. But so will I. And so will everyone. It’s an annoyingly beautiful part of being a real human person. Look, I know you have a good heart, and I know you aren’t perfect,” he turned his head away. “To be perfectly honest, you’d be pretty boring if you were.” He added with a playful glint in his eyes, before he let out a heavy breath, and his expression fell. “I won’t lie to you and say that what you said to me didn’t hurt me. It did. I thought… you know that I’ve never… had anyone…” he flicked his eyes to Todd. “Stay. You saying what you did… It’s everything I say to myself. Everything Blackwing raised me to believe about myself. Hearing that from you…” He shook his head, blinking away tears, unable to continue. Todd quickly dragged his chair beside the bed, sitting and pulling Dirk’s hand into his. He shook his head emphatically, expression intense.

“You’re not-”

“I know.” Dirk stopped him, firmly. He pulled his hands out of Todd’s leaving a cold chill in the empty place that remained. “I know.” He sighed. “I don’t… I don’t expect you to fix that. My childhood…traumas. I just… I need you to understand that you hurt me. That what you said hurt.” Dirk’s tear-filled eyes flicked up to Todd’s, piercing with their intensity. Todd nodded quickly. He took a deep breath, and nodded again more firmly.

“I do. I understand I hurt you, and I am sorry, Dirk.” Dirk reached back for Todd’s hand still stretched towards him on the bed, and patted it once.

“Good.” He nodded with a satisfied smile. Todd realized he’d been forgiven. He felt the heavy weight on his body lighten, just slightly.

“Thank you, Dirk.” Todd awkwardly lifted his hand for a handshake. “Friends, then?” Dirk smirked and cocked his head. Were they handshake friends? Was that something they did? He didn’t think they were handshake friends…

“No,” Dirk responded and Todd frowned, suddenly unsure if he misread everything that Dirk had said. “Partners.” Dirk grinned at Todd’s confused face before it flashed into embarrassed realization that Dirk knew what he had told the nurse earlier. He cleared his throat.

“Look, technically, sort of, we are partners, Dirk, like detective partners or something, and I wasn’t sure if they would let me see you if I wasn’t some sort of family-ish person…“ Dirk basked in Todd’s rambling smugly and Todd closed his mouth with a glare. “You know, maybe I liked you better when you were unconscious…” Dirk laughed and Todd gave him an annoyed-ly fond frown. He shifted his foot, bumping against his backpack on the floor, his eyes widening in realization. “Oh, hang on, I brought you something.” Dirk cocked his head in interest as Todd picked the backpack up off the floor.

“What? Really?” Dirk watched as a familiar yellow came into view as Todd unzipped the backpack. He felt his heart flip, and he gasped as Todd laid his leather jacket onto his lap. Dirk ran his fingers over the silver zipper, and turned to Todd, ready to thank him when Todd shoved another handful of cloth into his hand. “Oh, uh…”

“It’s just… uh… one of my band T-shirts… figured you might want something comfortable to wear out of the hospital… and you know, your jacket, of course.” Dirk was, for once, speechless. He opened his mouth, trying to find the words, blinking away tears, and just settled for smiling and nodding as he ran his fingers on the soft gray material of the shirt. Todd picked at the edge of the shirt still hanging off the edge of the bed. “And I don’t have many of these left, so… try not to bleed all over this one, okay?” Dirk smiled, and looked back up at Todd.

“Thank you. This is…” He sucked in a breath, shaking his head again. “Thank you.” He nodded. There was something in Todd’s eyes when he looked back at Dirk, something that Dirk hadn’t noticed before, that he wanted to figure out, but the door was suddenly shoved open, Dirk’s nurse holding a steaming cup in her hand, and when they turned back to each other, the moment was gone.

“Got your tea, dear.” She noticed Todd sitting beside the bed. “Oh good, your partner’s awake. Another nurse is headed by to change your bandages.” Todd blushed, looking anywhere but at Dirk who was wearing a similar expression. Dirk took the offered cup from the nurse gratefully, and carefully blew over it as she pulled his tray table over the bed for him. Todd moved the jacket and shirt to the end of the bed, out of the potential spill zone.

“Thank you.” Dirk said, mostly to the nurse, but also to Todd. The nurse nodded, looking between both of them with a smile, and then walked back out of the room. Dirk sniffed hesitantly at the steam wafting from the cup and narrowed his eyes. He sniffed again more forcefully, like he was trying to decide if what was entering his nose was going to kill him or not. Todd watched him smiling fondly. Dirk glanced over, raising his eyebrows at Todd from behind the cup. “What?”

“Nothing.” Todd shook his head, still smiling, and leaned back in his chair.

“Right...” Dirk blew one more time on the warm liquid and carefully took a sip before he unceremoniously spat it back into the cup and shoved it onto the table, with a betrayed look on his face. Todd laughed, and Dirk turned to him with a glare. “That is the worst cup of tea I have ever tasted in my life. I’m not even exaggerating! I swear, you Americans and your so-called tea. She probably made this in a microwave… or with like a dirty puddle of water she found on the pavement.” He shivered in disgust, eyeing the cup like it might suddenly burst out of the cup and force it’s way back into his mouth.

“What? You really expected gourmet tea from a hospital?” Todd rolled his eyes. Dirk glared while trying to get the taste off his tongue.

“Ugh. I think they actually had better tea when I was in Blackwing. And that place was the worst.” Todd’s eyes widened at Dirk’s mention of Blackwing. He wasn’s sure how to respond to that…especially considering Dirk’s visitor from earlier… Dirk seemed to notice his discomfort. “Sorry.” Todd shook his head, swallowing thickly.

“Dirk-”

“Not really something I want to talk about right now… I shouldn’t have mentioned it.” Dirk fiddled with the edge of the cup of tea. Todd looked at him carefully. He had to tell him. They were being honest with each other. Dirk needed to know.

“I know… it’s a touchy subject… but Dirk, I need to tell you something. Earlier, when I came in-” Dirk grabbed Todd’s hand.

“I know they’re still coming for me, Todd. You don’t have to…” He sighed and glanced at the door. “Are they here? Are they waiting for me?” Todd frowned and shrugged.

“I…I don’t know. When I came in, they said some man with a moustache and military ID visited you, saying he was your father. I think I saw him leaving when I was walking in. I don’t know if there’s anymore.” Dirk seemed to process what Todd said, and nodded, surprisingly calm.

“Colonel Riggins. The man that approached me the other night at your apartment building I told you about.” He sighed. “Not really much I can do about it though. If they really want me, if that where I’m supposed to be-” His hand squeezed Todd’s. The heart monitor beeped faster, suddenly aggressively loud in the quiet room.

“Dirk?” Todd stroked Dirk’s hand. Dirk shook his head and squeezed his eyes closed.

“I really don’t want to go back there.” His voice was suddenly very small. Todd stood up from his chair and pulled Dirk into his arms, being careful around his injured shoulder. Dirk sunk into the embrace, gratefully, breathing heavily. Todd could feel his body shaking slightly.

“You won’t. Dirk, okay? You won’t. Farah and I, we’ll keep you safe. And even if they do find you, we’ll track you down, and bust in, guns blazing, and get you out of there. You’re not alone anymore, okay?” He felt Dirk nodding in his arms, a wet warmth soaking into his shirt where Dirk had pressed his face. Todd brought a hand up to stroke the back of Dirk’s head gently. “Look, Farah wanted to meet up a little later today, once you’re out of here, and we can talk to her then. She’ll know what to do. We’ll make a plan, and figure something out.” Dirk sniffled and pulled away, looking up at Todd with red-rimmed eyes. He nodded. “Okay?”

“Okay… I mean I highly doubt that you, or Farah, even with her impressive number of guns and ninja-like fighting skills, will be able to take on a secret military organization, but it’s a nice sentiment, Todd. Thank you.” Todd frowned. Dirk raised his eyebrows. “I’m not trying to be sarcastic right now. It really does make me feel better, Todd. I never had anyone before that even wanted to try to be there for me, so I really do appreciate it.” Todd nodded before he sat back down in his chair, returning his hand to rest on Dirk’s. Dirk smiled softly. The heart monitor was back to being a steady background noise. Todd’s eyes fell on Dirk’s abandoned disgusting tea.

“You want me to go down and see if I can find you some better tea?” Dirk’s eyes crinkled into a smile, and he shook his head.

“Don’t want you to go anywhere,” he said pulling Todd’s hand to his chest. Todd felt his heart twist. “Besides, I don’t have any faith that you would be able to tell the difference between actual tea and this cup of sewage either.” Todd let his mouth fall open.

“Wow. That seems very rude.” Dirk shrugged with one shoulder.

“Maybe that’s me now. Maybe I’m just a rude detective man.” Todd responded with a disgustingly fond look and shook his head. Dirk blushed.

They heard the door push open again, and didn’t pull apart until the new nurse came over to the bed to change Dirk’s bandages, giving them both step by step instructions on how to do it, that neither of them will probably remember later, and will have to try and get Farah’s help with figuring it out. Todd grimaced at the sight of the arrow wound on the front of Dirk’s shoulder, angry stitches pulling his skin into place again. Dirk’s lips pressed tightly together as the nurse gently placed the fresh gauze over the wound and wrapped the clean bandage around his shoulder. A woman walked through the door as the nurse finished with the bandage, her hair neatly tucked into a bun behind her head, and smiled at Dirk, as she picked up the chart from the end of the bed.

“Mr. Gently?” Dirk nodded. “I’m Dr. Peyton. You’re looking much better than when you came in last night. How are you feeling?” Dirk nodded, shifting his shoulder slightly to adjust with the tightness of the fresh bandages.

“Good. Fine. A bit sore, I think whatever you people gave me is wearing off.” Dr. Peyton nodded, and pulled an orange bottle from the pocket of her white coat.

“That’s normal. You’re going to be sore for a while. Fortunately, the arrows missed some important muscles and tendons, so you should be able to make a full recovery as long as you complete your physical therapy sessions. You’re very lucky. Most shoulder injuries can lead to extremely limited range of motion, if those arrows had hit you anywhere else or any deeper, you may have had a much more difficult recovery.” Dirk nodded, trying to keep himself from rolling his eyes. Stupid universe and it’s stupid precisely hitting arrows…just enough to not kill him or seriously injure him, just enough to remind him who’s in charge…again. Dr. Peyton held up the pill bottle and gave a quick explanation of how much Dirk needed to take and when. Dirk stared up at her, his eyes glazing over, too much words for having just barely woken up from a night of almost dying. Todd was fighting to listen closely to her instructions. The doctor finished talking and held the pill bottle out to Dirk, who took them slowly. Dr. Peyton said something else Dirk didn’t quite hear. He saw her mouth moving, but the words blurred into the soft hum of the room, the only sound he could make out, the steady beep of the machine next to his bed. Dr. Peyton pursed her lip and looked at Todd pointedly, raising her eyebrows.

“I’ll make sure he takes them at the right times. Got it all here.” He said tapping his head. Dr. Peyton didn’t respond, and then nodded at them both.

“Alright, well, you’re all set then. Your nurse will be back in a few minutes to help get you all sorted, and then you’re free to go.”

Dirk nodded. His head felt fuzzy and the pain in his shoulder had started to burn and itch under the bandages.

“Thank you, doctor.” Todd said. The doctor left, swinging the door shut behind her, and leaving them once again shut away in the sterile silence of the room. Todd absently rubbed his neck. His brief nap in the hospital chair had left his muscles feeling more sore than they had when he arrived earlier and now that his brain wasn’t distracted by his Dirk guilt, his body decided to remind him of all the pain he was in.

Dirk picked at the lid of the pill bottle, fighting to steady his breath, and breathe through the steadily increasing pain. The fact that he was holding a bottle filled with pain medication that could help treat the pain was out of his capability to understand in the current state of his mind. He leaned forward, bringing his knees up towards his chest, and rested his head down on his uninjured arm, trying to hide the groan that escaped his throat.

“Dirk?” Todd leaned over to try to get a closer look at Dirk’s now hidden face, and laid his hand on his back, gently stroking it up to his neck, and resting at the edge of Dirk’s hair. He felt Dirk relax into his touch, and sigh softly. Todd’s fingers combed up the back of Dirk’s scalp, through the fine auburn strands, just as soft as Todd would have imagined them to be. He tried to ignore the warm feeling filling up his chest, panicking at feeling something that he hadn’t let himself feel, he hadn’t deserved to feel... or thought he was capable of feeling. Dirk groaned again, louder, obviously in pain. Todd noticed the pill bottle wrapped in his hand. He reached out with his other hand, pausing before he grabbed it.

“Dirk, can I-?“ Dirk nodded into his arm and loosened his grip without looking up, and Todd took the bottle from him. He reluctantly removed his other hand from Dirk’s head, and opened the bottle, carefully shaking two pills into his hand, pouring a cup of water from a pitcher on the tray table next to him, and holding them out to Dirk. “Here, take these.”

Dirk turned his head, so he could look at Todd, still leaned against his knees. His eyes were heavy. His lips turned up slightly and he nodded in appreciation before sitting up with a groan. He swallowed the pills with an audible gulp and quick swallow of water and sighed falling back into his pillow. His legs slipped back down flat on the bed. Dirk breathed stiffly, shutting his eyes, but he dropped his hand back down on the bed near Todd, letting it hang open, invitingly. Todd paused, unsure for a moment before Dirk twitched his fingers, and raised his eyebrows, his eyes still closed. Todd smiled and laid his hand on top of Dirk’s, letting their fingers interlock. Dirk sighed.

They sat quietly. Dirk breathed steady and deliberate breaths as he waited for the medication to calm the burning edges of the pain in his shoulder. Todd watched him, studying the way the dim light from the window cast pale shadows across his face, the way the front of his hair was stuck straight out from his forehead in an endearingly chaotic way, the way his muscles tensed and relaxed under the skin of his neck. He was calmed by the warmth of Dirk’s hand in his, the light flutter of his pulse. Todd let his mind drift away with the steady beeps, as they waited to leave, both ignoring for a moment the danger that inevitably would find them outside the door.

[madamhatter]

@virusvirtue​​ / bed-sentenced Sophie is not a happy Sophie. 

Why must her body protest and reduce itself to childish means? Time is critical and to collapse at such short notice - Sophie Hatter believed she'd gotten over that rambunctious phase of her life. Indignation courses through her body as the left fingers, shivering and trembling, twists into the sheets. Her gaze, blankly, looks upwards towards the pristine white ceiling of her room while the torment scorches under her skin. 

Move, we've been over this. Why must my body contradict the mind? Being a meddling and bumbling idiot that can't do anything is not up to any's worth of time and standards. 

At a boiling 39.8 C, the master candidate has been through a two-day sentence of aches, fever, and deliriousness. The mystic codes made by her own hands were dampened on the first day she awoke, her joints pulsating, but she marched on throughout the base on top of the snowy mountain. Never in her life did she spare herself any consideration nor entertained herself with the idea of limitations. 

Alas, the body came to a crescendo. When carrying the latest shipment, Sophie almost stumbled to the ground but managed to get back up. She scurries before any unwanted gazes see her and judge her for incompetence. Another instance where her vision grows blurrier while working through the labyrinth of paperwork and strategy she's made for herself. 

'Oh, this again,' she had told herself candidly. 'Ah, it’ll pass,' she repeats the mantra to push through. Stubbornness is the 'cure-all' in her eyes. She made her way from the desk, carrying her finished binder and heading to the door.

The door creaks open.

And that was when her body, once again, were worn at the seams, and the world descends to blackness...

Hence, the unusual arrangement with the master candidate begrudgingly in bed - any nerve inside of her itching and pricking her mind to do something. 

Her stomach churns as she squeezes the blanket further, keeping her gaze towards the ceiling. The nameless gargoyle at her side, watching her every movement. If any shred of pride existed in her, it was what was rotting inside her. 

Look at her, Sophie Hatter. Pathetic and useless, unable to do anything and making an embarrassment of herself. Hasn't she made enough trouble? Hasn't she burdened others enough? 

Stone-gray irises remain insistent and unmovable to the suggestions and declines from the copper-haired woman. A thin line makes up her expression, concentration in her eyes, as she steels herself from any pervasive questions that she knows she'd be relentlessly met within this stint. 

Aren't we just a hellish pair, then? She amuses his retort with one begging to be returned. Exhaustion, however, is more explicit in her shambled disposition, and she would not allow herself to become a more significant hindrance to the summoned. 

Freshly cooked chicken soup, chopped leeks, and made-from-scratch broth - - her nose tickles at the scent that tries to lure her in, pull her into consideration. Her brows knit together, despite her mantra-induced refusal. But it is not her mind wavering to the thoughts of a homemade meal.

It's bewildering.

Why would he even bother making something like that for her? Other servants deserve it and would be delighted by it - they don't require sustenance, unlike the humans... Hell, even the other candidates could dig in. Who in the right mind would even go that far to waste resources and time on that? She can pull herself together just fine.

This arrangement is not a comfortable one.

She already feels exposed - all parts of her body twitching and stuffy with red patches staining her body. She, however, made the one right decision - covering every inch of herself to avoid even more inevitably judgmental eyes. 

Her eyes squeeze shut as Archer spoon-feeds her alternatives. She'd rather choke on a blade in his collection than carry on with this conversation. Part of her urges not to be alone - for, with nothing to do, that was indeed when she'd fall apart. It wouldn't be wise nor proper for Sophie Hatter to do that. After all, she was taught better, and she knew better than to make problems as Mother and Father told her...

I'm sorry. I'm sorry that you have to put up with my failures. 

"Mister Archer, your persistence in your work, I acknowledge it. And it's useful." She finally speaks up, lowering her chin and turning her face to watch him. "...when it's needed. Like in the field." 

"I'm fine." I've been through worse. "I can care for myself at this point. This pointless matter isn't worth the energy. It's over already." 

Sophie turns her head away with her ponytail following her. She was already seated up, refusing to lay flat on her back. Her palms, flat on the bed, slowly push her to turn away from Archer and face the unoccupied side of her bed. 

"If I am hungry, I can handle that. If I am thirsty, I can handle that. I can handle myself." She quietly folds the blanket over her lap away, revealing something quite unusual for Sophie - a pair of gray joggers. Odd to see her in a wardrobe fitting her age range. 

Her right-hand reaches out and remains against the wall to keep her balance. The bottom of her bare feet brushes against cold tiles.

Fully actualized shapes distort...

Her nails dig into the wall, refusing to let that sway her. Even if the world around her could spin at any minute. 

"I know some of the other candidates have been working a sweat with training. They'll need the vitamins, protein, and all of that. Other servants have unsatisfiable cravings for food too. They'll be able to appreciate your cooking." 

"I have work to do. I can't wait any longer."  

[autumnslance]

FFXIV Write 2020 #18: Panglossian

((Two very old folks in an alternate future.))

The celebration had gone late, but now all the Ironworks personnel were asleep, either in their beds (or a colleague’s) or before the fires where they had been talking and drinking.

Never had an empty space in the skyline been so inspiring--and now, Midgardsormr noted, there was less to block the sun as dawn crept nearer the horizon line.

He had taken a smaller form, that power still his though he had fully reclaimed the shell he had previously inhabited. He sat on a rock, watching over these mortals as he had for many decades now.

A clanky whirring noise caught his attention, and the old construct tottered over to the stone, bumping into it before stopping, the sensor on top of the battered chassis pointing Midgardsormr’s way.

In his own language, the dragon asked, “Do you see now? Have you learned what Alpha tried to teach you?”

There was a pause, and the grinding of parts not built to last so long. The construct shuffled, its clawed feet dragging in the dust until patterns emerged.

MORE DATA REQ

“Hmph,” Midgardsormr sniffed. “While 'tis but a short span to us, surely you have come to at least a preliminary conclusion.”

The construct paused for another moment. More scratching in the dirt.

TESTING

Midgardsormr gestured a claw to where the Tower had stood. The sky beyond was growing bright. “This strikes me as a test passed.”

YOU ALWAYS BELIEVE

“In them? Of course.”

WHY

He could be pedantic and insist that if Omega was going to speak using Eorzean script it also use proper punctuation, but that pettiness was well below him. Besides, he was in too good of a mood after far too long.

The birth of an Astral Era always did that to him, though.

“They have such a short span, yet accomplish so much--and if done well, can inspire others to take up their cause, complete their work. To continue to fight, and build. ‘Tis different from a dragon’s life and perspective. They are endlessly fascinating.”

The construct’s gears ground in thought, sensor spinning jerkily to where the Tower no longer stood, then back at the sleepy Ironworks camp, before scratching further in the dirt.

HOPE REMAINS

Something old cracked in Midgardsormr’s heart as he stared at those words, and then at the shambling construct that had written them. A rumbling laugh left his throat. He could already sense his eldest remaining children scoffing and rolling their eyes at their sire’s apparently endless optimism.

“Aye, my old enemy. Even for such as we.”

He banished the thoughts of crushing the toy chassis under his claws, to be done with the wretched machine once and for all. Instead, he thought he might speak to young Biggs about a few necessary repairs.

‘Twas the start of the Eighth Astral Era, after all; a time of change and new chances.

The two ancients watched the dawn together, and looked forward to the new day.

[xxforsaken-angelxx]

> Consult an expert

xxforsaken-angelxx uh knock knock?

centaurstechnician D—> Greetings xxforsaken-angelxx hi im eridan makara the grinmaww im fuckin doin shit i wwas told you knoww things about helm recovvery

centaurstechnician D—> I am called the Engineer D—> As it happens, I know quite a bit about the subject D—> As helm installation and maintenace was my primary focus for six sweeps D—> And the rehabilitation of uninstalled helms the last four

xxforsaken-angelxx ok cool so youre just a funky miracle man

centaurstechnician D—> If it pleases you to phrase it that way

xxforsaken-angelxx no i mean it thats more rehab wwork than anyone here has

centaurstechnician D—> Indeed, do you know how much of their physique is compromised by the biowire’s intrusion? D—> As well it w001d be helpfoal to know how long they have been filly on life support

xxforsaken-angelxx purportedly the biowire aint fuckin wwith anythin an theyvve been there bout fifty swweeps, on full life support for a lotta that

centaurstechnician D—> According to whom? D—> Helms are %tremely bad at self reporting D—> And technicians are apt to overlook anything which does not interfere with the job D—> But assuming all you are dealing with is musc001ature atrophy, and not compromised limb function due to %cessive scarring and nerve damage D—> The I have a regimin of physical therepy %ercises to deal with each stage of recovery D—> As well as diet suggestions. D—> It will take them an amount of time to adjust to taking food by mouth again, and you will want to start with liquids, though a high protein diet rich in calories is imperative to recovery D—> I also suggest that perminant ports be replaced with silicone seating for comfort while moving and laying in any position

xxforsaken-angelxx according to the techs but thats fuckin useful shit

centaurstechnician D—> Are they currently on broad spectrum antibiotics and antivirals? D—> Restarting the immune system is an entire process involving transfusions and system boosters D—> They abso100tely will find their body treating every new thing as a possible intruder once it begins to ramp up D—> So you will need to watch for anaphylaxis, and have epinephrine ready, as well as simpler antihistamines and steriods

xxforsaken-angelxx youre a fuckin useful bitch yknoww that like i knoww wwere prepped for that one but youre less dodgy than the clowwn nurses

centaurstechnician D—> I am nothing if not usefoal D—> Helping to rehabilitate helms legally and freely is a dream > centaursTechnician has sent file exercise&diet.zip D—> My notes

xxforsaken-angelxx *hell* yes

centaurstechnician D—> I understand the subject is entering this affair willingly? D—> There may come a point, more quickly, or further along, where they grow tired of constantly struggling to do normal activites. D—> I have found a simple and uncomplicated short term and long term reward system helps with motivation, as long as you are entirely transparent about your motivations

xxforsaken-angelxx yeah they apparently wwould really like this to be a thing, so but tell me more about that?

centaurstechnician D—> Between keeping a private journal that remains private, and finding out what motivates them, new books? Food? Food is quite popular with psions in general because of their abnormally high caloric needs.

xxforsaken-angelxx i cant evven guess wwhat theyd like but wwe wwill cross that bridge wwhen wwe get there

centaurstechnician D—> once off the automatic regulation of blood sugar by the life support systems, many psions have reported feeling like they are constantly hungry, so food as a short term treat rarely goes wrong

xxforsaken-angelxx noted

centaurstechnician D—> feel free to contact me with any further questions

xxforsaken-angelxx actually heres one wwhat do you do like speech wwise

centaurstechnician D—> Are the vocal chords damaged? D—> If the voice is damaged, cybershades or glasses present an alternative to communication while strength and dexterity is being rebuilt in the hands

xxforsaken-angelxx theyvve refused to talk their wwhole service so i mean i fuckin assume an wwhat the fuck is a cybershades

centaurstechnician D—> It may be a form of protest, specifically. D—> Ah, hm > centaursTechnician has sent file cybershades.pdf D—> I apologize for the slightly rough instructions, this was pulled from a site where they discuss building one from cheap and spare parts D—> But it should still be usefoal D—> They are shades that present a HUD display of a computer interface, and work via a touch contact neural transmitter. D—> They can be both single or paired with a other device for increased computing power.

xxforsaken-angelxx ...thats cool as all shit

centaurstechnician D—> They are invaluable for giving some freedoms to those who have trouble communicating D—> And also for using your computing devices on then fly

xxforsaken-angelxx i wwould FUCKIN imagine

centaurstechnician D—> Language

xxforsaken-angelxx im a clowwn if i dont swwear then i shrivvel up like an unwwatered plant

centaurstechnician D—> I suppose if it is medically necessary I shall allow it

xxforsaken-angelxx i kneww youd understand

centaurstechnician D—> Of course D—> Let me know if there are any other pieces of equipment you need schematics for or questions I can answer

xxforsaken-angelxx one more thing any tips on like keepin someone not horrifically bored wwhen they wwont tell you wwhat they like

centaurstechnician D—> Give them the resources to seek their own entertainment. D—> Remember that they are probably very angry about the fate that was handed them D—> However they choose to express that anger is the only act of will they have taken for themselves from the shambles left to them of their abillity to act D—> You are not entitled to know anything about them D—> Give them the shades, allow them to order and ask for things on their own terms D—> They can find their own way. D—> As long as things are available to them if they choose.

xxforsaken-angelxx mm that makes sense not wwhat nymede wwants to hear though

centaurstechnician D—> There are many realities of dealing with people on the other side of a system you have benefitted from which are.. difficolt by nature

xxforsaken-angelxx shes been havvin a rough time wwith it but its easier wwhen i like fuckin knoww wwhat else to tell her to do

centaurstechnician D—> Feel free to direct her to me as well, if I can help, I will D—> I have been tasked with restoring Goldwave, as well D—> So I do have familiarity with the particulars of the implants used.

xxforsaken-angelxx yeah good fuckin point just might do that ...on a scale a one to ten howw much of a bitch is he to deal wwith

centaurstechnician D—> I believe he is doing his best to behave D—> Although I personally find him enjoyable enough. D—> perhaps a six, a nine if you are not me.

xxforsaken-angelxx thats about wwhat i thought but also i dont knoww howw the fuck you like him

centaurstechnician D—> My Red’s pale would rate him a twelve I’m certain

xxforsaken-angelxx ha

centaurstechnician D—> I quite enjoy his quick wit, and Strength of personality and determination

xxforsaken-angelxx i mean thats one fuckin wway to put it ...youre also wwith the serial killer bitch or somethin though so i dunno

centaurstechnician D—> I am Vriska’s moirail, yes. Ive known her since we were wrigglers

xxforsaken-angelxx im sure theres somethin there for you but i only knoww her for a lotta felonies so its questionable to me

centaurstechnician D—> I am curious about what intellegence about those procedings youve managed to gather

xxforsaken-angelxx not fuckin much i knoww there wwas a lotta murder an some fuckers head got stolen an our one heiress aligned ship that got ovver to the scene fuckin hated it uh she used transportalizer tech wwe dont havve

centaurstechnician D—> I apologize for my little prank with the letter, also

xxforsaken-angelxx OH YEAH THAT BITCH

centaurstechnician D—> :) D—> I’m told she killed every coolblood in the station

xxforsaken-angelxx yeah that she did fuckin brutally

centaurstechnician D—> There is nothing I can say which will lessen the impact of her chosen methodology D—> And I am not going to attempt to. D—> I’m curious, though, Grinmaw D—-> How many people have you killed?

xxforsaken-angelxx none zero none people

centaurstechnician D—> We have the privilege of having that in common, then

xxforsaken-angelxx not the up close vviolence type myself

centaurstechnician D—> Do you prefer a hands off approach, then? xxforsaken-angelxx eh, kinda im supposed to knoww wwar strategy type stuff an i like studyin it but right noww if i havve to actually use it then thatd be a bad sign to say the least centaurstechnician D—> I sincerely hope that your hands can stay clean.

xxforsaken-angelxx nice a you you too though centaurstechnician D—> Thank you

[singofsolace]

Madam Spellman 2020 Challenge Masterlist!

Many thanks to everyone who participated in the Madam Spellman 2020 Challenge! Over five weeks, we created thirty-four, I repeat, THIRTY-FOUR fanfics, and five pieces of gorgeous fan art. A grand total of 73,530 words were published to the collection on Ao3. I am in awe of how much content was created, and over the moon at the response this challenge received. 

Since this masterlist is going to be very long, I've decided to put it all under the cut! Check out the 39 pieces of fanwork below!

Week One Prompt: New Year’s

a year has fled o’er heart and head by Singofsolace (@concreteangel1221)

Summary: Mary Wardwell has never been kissed on New Year’s Eve. Zelda seeks to rectify this grave injustice.

A Mortal Tradition by lady_needless_litany (@lady-needless-litany​)

Summary: Even though months have passed since Blackwood’s massacre, everything’s still up in the air. Zelda’s barely hanging on - and now she can’t even kill Hilda as a form of stress release.

Remembered Footsteps on Old Roads by brokenmemento 

Summary: Lilith asks Zelda to take a little trip, one that will prove difficult for her to do.

Happy New Year darling, for whatever is in store by Saturn_Silk 

(@saturn-silk)

Summary: Mary and Zelda spend New Year’s Eve together at the cottage.

this gorgeous fanart by @bainelland  

Art Description: A polaroid picture from the Spellman’s album. Taken on a New Year’s Eve night by Sabrina who accidentally walked in on a quiet moment between Zelda and Lilith. Illuminated by the Solstice Tree, with Ella Fitzgerald’s “What Are You Doing New Year’s Eve?” playing in the background. It’s one of Zelda’s favorite pictures in the whole album.

this stunning fanart by @miss-spellman (aka @asterleaf and @moon-rise )

Art Description: Zelda Spellman and Lilith stand, wrapped in an embrace. They are kissing as confetti and streamers fall around them. Zelda has one hand wrapped around Lilith’s waist, and the other is precariously holding a glass of champagne. Lilith’s hand is placed on Zelda’s cheek. 

Piece of My Heart by sweetdreamsaremadeoffish (@claire-de-macarune​)

Summary: Yes, Lilith, I love you. Yes, Lilith, this is your home now. I could never deny you. Yes, Lilith, I want you to stay.

~~

Week Two Prompt: Road Trip

Strangers by brokenmemento 

With the coven in shambles and the Academy without a sense of direction, Zelda finds a place to start rebuilding and settles on asking an unlikely person to aid her in her mission.

this will be our year (took a long time to come) by sweetdreamsaremadeoffish ( @claire-de-macarune ) 

Mary’s keys in the ignition and her head lolled back on the headrest, Zelda blew a last, elegant kiss out the back windshield to her family and trundled the old Ford down the drive, onto the passing road. They disappeared in a wink of distance rather than magic.

Road Trip by AlexusOnFire ( @alexusonfire )

Poetry, written from Lillith’s perspective.

wrestling with the wind by Singofsolace ( @concreteangel1221 )

When Lilith, the skateboarding, tomato-stealing lesbian meets Zelda, the elegant, willful daughter of a mortician, sparks (and motorcycles) fly. 

this sweet fanart by @moon-rise​  

Zelda and Lilith take an impromptu road trip and stop at a little witch friendly café. Zelda orders her black coffee and Lilith orders a coffee with 4 creams and 7 sugars. Zelda hates the colour scheme of the room but the romance of it grows on her as the sun sets and lights up Lilith’s impossibly gorgeous blue eyes. 

Pulp fiction for Zelith by @jyou-no-sonoko19​ 

(please show your support for this fabulous edit by reblogging from the original source!)

~~~

Week Three Prompt: Winter

Breathe by sweetdreamsaremadeoffish ( @claire-de-macarune​ )

"I think you have what it takes. It’s completely reasonable for you to have some support, but this needs to work. I need this to work. We both do,” Edward said, under his breath. “It’s this or go back home. You know that.”

Chasing Out The Chill by Jyou_no_Sonoko ( @jyou-no-sonoko19​ )

After the fall of the Church of Night and its ceasing to worship Lucifer, Zelda in her new role as self-appointed High Priest has to transition them to the Church of Lilith. And while she believes in her Patron, it is a difficult adjustment to make. Lilith grows concerned for her and plans a little getaway.

Dance Under the Winter Sky by TommorowNeverCame ( @its-a-goode-day )

A year later, the coven has a winter ball. Zelda decides it's time for her and Lilith to be happy.

Double Black Diamond by Singofsolace ( @concreteangel1221 )

When Zelda Spellman gets driven off the ski trail by the Judas Boys, Lilith (the snowboarding lesbian) comes to her aid.

Fire and Ice by Saturn_Silk ( @saturn-silk​ )

Lilith really wants to go ice skating, and eventually, Zelda caves in and takes her.

Their Heart Grew Cold by stellastellaforstar ( @stellastellaforstar​ )

She looked beautiful, Zelda could tell even through the haze of snow. Her glasses were foggy and her nose was red, but every snowflake seemed to land so beautifully on her head.

These Winters Can Be Maddening by brokenmemento 

Winter through the eyes of Zelda Spellman at three points in her life.

Winter by AlexusOnFire ( @alexusonfire​ )

a lovely winter poem!

winter and hard earth by CallmeCordelia 

Zelda observes the Winter Solstice. Lilith observes her.

~~~~

Week Four: Alternate Universe

Like a fool, I fell in love with you by Saturn_Silk ( @saturn-silk​ )

Zelda Spellman, Greendale’s local coroner, needs a date for her sister’s wedding and who better than her colleague Detective Lilith Morningstar. Will they get away with it? Or will it turn into something more?

Lady Justice by Singofsolace ( @concreteangel1221​ )

Lieutenant Lilith Demos had spent the last twenty years investigating New York City’s most sensitive crimes. She was intimately familiar with the worst humanity had to offer, but getting justice for rape victims made everything else worthwhile. There was no case too perverse or too delicate for her to handle; she always remained coolly professional, no matter the situation. But that all changed the day Zelda Spellman walked into her squad room. Bringing Zelda’s abuser to justice proves to be her most difficult case yet, and it doesn’t help that Zelda is extremely uncooperative when it comes to the investigation. 

The Muse by AlexusOnFire ( @alexusonfire​ )

Zelda Spellman attends an art class. Lilith is her muse.

No Man is an Island by brokenmemento 

Zelda and her roommate Lilith have been fighting with this thing for five years. With the rain comes absolution. AKA the Madam Spellman as Grace and Frankie AU.

Vying Off Course by Claraon ( @sheep-in-space​ )

Her eyes stop in their track, surprised at spotting the eldest member of the Spellman family sitting at the bar. Her frock is modest enough – a pale linen thing with a simple blue lacing, and her strawberry hair is tied back in a conservative bun –  but she somehow manages to look at once regal yet perfectly at home among the buccaneers and other shady characters crowding the place.

We Lost the Sea by bainel ( @bainelland​ )

Their eyes locked for a second across the room, and Lilith felt her breath catch in her throat. She felt as if the whole room had faded away. For a fraction of a second, they were the only two people in the inn. But then the bartender placed a glass of amber liquid next to the redheaded woman. She turned away, towards her drink, and the moment was over.

Lilith gets dragged into a series of events that will lead her into one of her greatest adventures yet.

Wild with Adventure by stellastellaforstar ( @stellastellaforstar​ )

It’s a wild west AU, y'all! Sheriff Zelda and Outlaw Lilith.

Your Song by sweetdreamsaremadeoffish ( @claire-de-macarune​ )

Songwriter AU

And you can tell everybody this is your song It may be quite simple but now that it’s done I hope you don’t mind, I hope you don’t mind That I put down in words How wonderful life is while you’re in the world

The Spelldelaire Children by @claire-de-macarune​ 

(please show your support of this fabulous fan art by reblogging it from the original source!)

~~~~~

Week Five Prompt: Fix It!  (the list is in alphabetical order)

a little death (une petite mort) by Singofsolace ( @concreteangel1221​ )

Mambo Marie intervenes when Zelda Spellman denies Lilith sanctuary. This changes many things, but not all things. Lilith proposes that the only way that the three of them will survive the wrath of both the Dark Lord and the Pagans is to perform an incredibly intimate ritual. Mary Wardwell stumbles upon this ritual, with gun in hand.

An Offering of Trust by paradox_n_bedrock ( @paradox-n-bedrock​ )

Zelda and Lilith try just a little harder for each other. They’re lucky Marie has an emotional intelligence greater than a potato.

Forever…(is a long time) by brokenmemento 

After the events of Part 3, things are still left hanging in the balance. Lilith forges an unlikely alliance with the least likely of suspects.

From Her Beacon-Hand by CallmeCordelia 

Lilith seeks asylum, but what will she find?

home in the heart of hell by sweetdreamsaremadeoffish ( @claire-de-macarune​ )

And all shall fade The flowers of spring The world and all the sorrow At the heart of everything

I Was Housed by Your Warmth by daisygrl ( @asterleaf​ )

Something about the other witch pulled her ever closer, made her ache inside. It was the strangest sensation: two parts nostalgia and one part pain. If she had lived lives other than this one, she would have sworn that they had met before. Perhaps their souls had passed one another by as they swam in the primordial muck.

The Witch’s Lullaby by marla_black ( @marla-black​ )

With Lilith pregnant with Lucifer’s baby, she is in need of a midwife, and who better than Zelda Spellman, the witch who has never lost a child in her life.

~~~~~

Many thanks to everyone who reblogged and commented on all of these pieces! You were as much a part of this challenge as the writers and artists!