#Stories/Fics

[cyber-streak-2]

Title: Saying Goodbye

[Spoilers for what happens at the end of PMD Explorers]

———

It was over. After managing to defeat Dialga, and putting the Time Gears back in, it was over. The Treecko and Cyndaquil partner were heading back down the path to get to the Rainbow Stoneship.

Rusty felt so relieved and glad that everything was going to be back to normal—no more time troubles—even if Dialga mentioned that everything would take a little while. Whisper had to be too, right? Rusty assumed it was.

Frankly, after everything that had been going on recently, the Cyndaquil just wanted to head back to Treasure Town—head back to the Guild—and relax with their sibling for a just a little bit before continuing with things. That sounded nice. Rusty was tired.

He was just beginning to remember all of the things that they had told Whisper that they wanted to do later after everything was said and done—some of which the Treecko had agreed to doing with the Cyndaquil. But... when it had spoken, it almost seemed... sad. Maybe it had been Rusty’s imagination.

What was there to be sad about? Rusty frowned... well—there was Dusknoir, he guessed—and the Cyndaquil knew how Whisper had grown attached to the Ghost type—considering him a father. Frankly, Rusty had felt the same.

Rusty continued down the long path, trying not to accidentally trip over their long scarf on the way. While they liked the scarf—especially due to it being a gift from his sibling—tripping was a bit of a common thing. Maybe they could try to adjust the scarf later.

Neither of them were speaking yet—but it was clear to each that they were both exhausted from everything—who wouldn’t be, after all that? However, Rusty happened to notice something else about Whisper, after glancing back at it a couple of times.

Sure, Rusty was exhausted, but it looked as if the Treecko was far worse—and unless it was Rusty’s imagination, every step that it took was slower than Rusty’s—and he swore that it was getting slower—but for the moment, it was still managing to keep up.

The Cyndaquil tried not to worry—maybe it was nothing. If Whisper was just tired, then there was no need to worry—once the two of them got back to the Guild together, the Treecko would get some good rest—Rusty would make sure of it.

If it was having difficulty walking from how exhausted it was, Rusty wished that he could carry it—he wouldn’t be against carrying their sibling—but that might be incredibly difficult—the Cyndaquil didn’t think he was strong enough to do so.

In all honestly, if it was the case, then Rusty was surprised that Whisper wasn’t like this a lot—how had it never collapsed from exhaustion? He never saw Whisper sleep—the Treecko preferred to stay awake, carefully watching over and protecting the sleeping Cyndaquil from anything.

When he couldn’t hear the Treecko walking behind them anymore—only hearing their own footsteps—Rusty frowned, and started to slow down. And, when he noticed some kind of golden light from the corner of their eyes, that’s when they stopped, and finally turned.

Whisper was standing there, a few feet away from Rusty—eerily still, a frown on it’s face. It was focused on it’s little sibling in front of it, but the Treecko couldn’t help but glance at the pieces of light every now and then.

Rusty just... stared. W-What? What’s all that...? Why is it doing that...? “W-Whisp...?” The Cyndaquil hesitantly spoke up.

“Whisp, w-what’s going on? Are you okay??” Rusty rushed over to the still Whisper.

“...Rust. I-... I’m so sorry about this..” The Treecko’s voice was always gentle—but, this time, it’s voice felt different—they’d never heard Whisper with this much gentleness or sadness in it’s tone. In it’s expression.

Before this, Rusty figured that the saddest Whisper ever sounded—that it ever looked—was when they both discovered what Dusknoir was truly up to. This took that moment’s place.

Rusty’s frown grew. “S-Sorry? Whisp, what... are you talking about? What- what’s happening? What’s going to happen?”

“Da-... Dusknoir told me earlier, if the future were to be changed, then the Pokemon- anyone from the future, would then disappear.” Whisper glanced at itself—its entire body was beginning to glow in a bright golden light.

Yes—it was a bit of a terrifying thing to think of—and Whisper didn’t exactly want to leave it’s sibling... or anyone, for that matter—but it was what was going to happen—and the Treecko had somewhat peacefully accepted that fact.

“Rust...” Whisper wiped at its eyes, feeling tears beginning to form. “I’m going to have to disappear, too. We’ll... have to say goodbye.”

A part of it did wish that it would be more of a ‘see-you-later’ goodbye—one where you leave after a visit, but you know you’ll end up seeing the other after some time—even if that time would be long. But, this was a different kind.

“N-No, no, no!” Rusty could hear their voice breaking. They moved closer than they already were, and immediately hugged Whisper—almost tackling it—but the Treecko managed to keep them both up while returning the hug.

“I-... I don’t want you to go, Whisp!” The Cyndaquil whimpered, “W-We’ve had so much fun together, right? A-and... and what would I do without you...? Y-You aren’t just my friend, Whisp, you... you’re like my older sibling.”

For the longest time, besides just wanting a friend—but not knowing how to make any—and being anxious—Rusty thought it would be nice to have a sibling. He didn’t have either. But, when Whisper arrived, they managed to get both.

Rusty continued as the tears began to leak—and, at the same time, he noticed how Whisper was taking its bandana and bag off—and carefully putting it around them. “I-I don’t know what I’d do without you, Whisp...”

“I-I want you to stay... there’s s-still so much we haven’t done yet e-either. I-I just want you to stay. There-... There...” The Cyndaquil tried to find the right words, but they weren’t coming to him.

Whisper sadly sighed, but the frown started to disappear—and in it’s place, was the tiniest of smiles. “Rust... you’ll be okay, I promise,” It started, “I know it’ll be difficult... but trust me. Just... just keep being the amazing explorer you are, okay...? Don’t forget me.”

There was so much more that the Treecko wanted to say—so much more that the Cyndaquil wanted to say—but, sadly, neither would get that chance.

Whisper knew it didn’t have much longer, and there wouldn’t be enough time to tell Rusty everything else—even if it was what the poor Cyndaquil needed to hear.

“Rusty.” Whisper started up again, it’s smile began to grow—although it was more of a sad kind. “I lov-“

Rusty listened quietly—waiting for their sibling to finish—but it would never get the chance to do so. In the golden light, Whisper disappeared. It was gone. It was gone.

They stared, looking around with widened teary eyes. No more Whisper. Whisper wasn’t here anymore. His sibling was gone. It... wasn’t going to be around anymore.

The Cyndaquil broke.

[moomoorare]

I love nautical and seaside town horror stories. Tell me more about the fog and water that eats people

[emberfaye]

You know what?

I love you, fics that take months to update. I click on the newest chapter and have no memory of this place and get to go back some chapters and rediscover how much i love everything about this story.

I love you, fics that take years to update. I think of you fondly, and know your names, go search for you and see an update from this year and scream, diving in uncaring of any missed details (i will finish the update and read you in reverse because this is a treat you have bestowed)

I love you, fics that probably will never update again. Thank you for being a roman empire for my mind, thank you for teaching me about the ephemeral fandom experience, for inspiring a thousand million what if-s, for being a comfort read and a nostalgia read and a reread.

I love you fic writers, who jump into projects and stories with enthusiasm. I love you when you succeed in pumping out those chapters and that love doesn't go away when you stop.

I love you fic writers who post and then get in your own head and never feel confident enough to update, whether it's at all or whether it's just that one story.

I love you fic writers, who have a fandom or media hurt you to the point of abandoning or having a hard time with their WIPs.

I love you fic writers, who lose interest or have life changes or illness or bad memory. Thank you for being part of the fandom, a core part of the fandom. Thank you for the time spent in the fandom.

I love you, fic writers who try out something new and then stop. You're so valid.

I love you, WIP fics that may or may not ever get finished. Thank you for brightening my day in the way only you could have.

[codecicle]

Whar does rpf mean 💔💔💔

historians aren't quite sure. Albert Einstein's last words were "rpf is fine" and we've been searching ever since

[raynewolferune]

DC x DP Prompt: Bruce is bad at emoting but at least ghosts are empathic (too bad bat kids are not)

Was reading Twincognito on AO3 when I stumbled across this gem again:

~

" “Danny, Tim. I was just…checking in. Is everything alright?” Curse his inability to make meaningful conversation when it wasn’t a life or death situation.

They glanced at each other and shrugged.

Then Danny hauled himself out of the bed and walked over to Bruce.

Bruce tried not to let too much excitement show on his face. "

~

Now I really want to read a story where Bruce adopts Danny post Meta trafficking and is being his usual emotionally constipated self. His kids keep getting mad at him because he's treating their new meta brother who was trafficked poorly (generally being stilted in conversation with him, walking away hurriedly mid-conversation, avoiding Danny when he's feeling really awkward, etc). They think Bruce is discriminating against Danny for being a civilian, meta, dealer's pick, but really it's just Bruce being horribly socially awkward. Danny knows this because of ghost empathy and find the whole thing hilarious. The whole thing comes to a head with the Bat Kids staging an intervention in the Bat Cave.

[wileycap]

AITA for striking my (M43) son (M20) when he rejected me as his father?

I understand that the title might have you thinking the worst, but please hear me out.

I didn't have a relationship with my son for basically all his life. This was due to my circumstances at the time: I went through a major personal tragedy and was severely injured, to the point of being on life support. To this day I have a lot of issues with my health.

I recently reconnected with my son. I immediately invited him to meet my boss (M92), in hopes that I could set him up with a job opportunity. I feel that this is significant. As far as I know, my son has been working in menial jobs in agriculture, but then apparently chose to leave that life and - to my shock - join a criminal syndicate.

I felt as if getting a good government job would be a way to turn over a new leaf in his life, especially given his past. However, he immediately became combative. I attempted to give him some guidance in managing his emotions, but he rejected that as well.

I'm sad to say that the argument became physical. Some blows were exchanged, but in the end, I was angry enough to strike him. I immediately felt very bad, and decided to offer him the government job on the spot. He rejected me again, and chose to leave very abruptly. I haven't had any contact with him since.

So, AITA?

Edit: Yes, I admit that to call it striking him was an understatement. To clarify, I cut off his hand.

Edit: However, I feel like it should be stated that I myself am a quadruple amputee and we have excellent healthcare.

Edit: I did not immediately identify myself as his father when we met. I think this was my mistake. I think he would have been much more receptive of my message had I done so. As it stands I only told him of our relationship after I had struck him.

Edit: My wife is not in the picture. To my knowledge she passed before his birth.

[lgbtlunaverse]

There's a version of the "don't go grocery shopping while hungry" rule specifically for writers where you should never under any circumstances be allowed to touch your draft within 3 hours of reading a really good story. Because sometimes when you read something great your head goes "fuck this is so much better than my stuff I should make that more like THIS instead!" Look at me. That's the devil talking and you should close the document NOW.

[reidiot]

don't fucking interrupt me when i'm reading my x reader fics it's rude

[rubyfunkey]

The Rehabilitation of Death by @bamsara

didnt have time to clean this like i wanted but i needed to get this scene out of my head desperately. im good now

[yandere-writer-momo]

Yandere Headcanon: Worship

Yandere Forgotten God (tentacle monster) x GN Reader

TW: Tentacles, teratophillia, gore, dubcon, and yandere themes

He was an ancient chaos god, one that was once revered amongst humans a millennium ago. But over time he had been forgotten when his fishing village had become a city. Now he was nothing more than a tall tale. A god with no name. He no longer had a humanoid form but was now a blob of black tentacles. It was shameful how far he had fallen from grace from his own pride. He should have made sure he was never forgotten.

The god shouldn’t have been so cocky to believe that monk couldn’t seal him away but alas, this was the punishment he deserved for his insatiable greed.

So when you arrive to his shrine and accidentally break the millennium old ward, he’s shocked. Have his own prayers finally been answered? Has someone come to free him from this lonely existence?

“I’ve heard there was once a god of chaos here so I have come to pray to you… please hear my plea.” You then bowed down in respect to the shrine and cried a bit. “I do not wish to be married off to some senile, corrupt man. Please god, if you hear me, save me.” You cried before him. You wanted to be saved before married you off to some old nobleman. You shared your woes of how this man made your city nearly inhabitable with his high taxes and of his salacious behavior. How could he not be swayed? He felt obligated to help you.

And so the god did what he did best, he wreaked havoc. He used his supernatural abilities to cause a landslide onto that nobleman’s home, killing him instantly. Now you no longer had to worry about being a stupid old man’s property. You could continue on with your life worshipping him! Your god!

You visited his shrine daily and left him small offerings. Ones that he would have rejected in the past but was positively thrilled to have now. The god began to love you. How could he not be drawn to your genuine gratitude? He couldn’t remember the last time someone had been this thrilled with him… it must’ve been over a thousand years ago now? He didn’t know…

What he loved most about you was your smile. It warmed his heart and he adored it. You were his world and he wanted to be more humanoid for you…

When your visits became less frequent, he used that time away from you to try to shape his body once more. He wanted to be with you. To hold you. To touch you, but he couldn’t do that as a shapeless blob of tentacles… but he could if he was more humanoid.

And so here he was with a mostly humanoid body with functioning male reproductive organs… save for the tentacles that remained attached to his back. His face was picturesque but his extra limbs weren’t… it didn’t matter. He would do so much for you, more than any human man. You didn’t entirely have a choice.

The god diligently worked on his shrine to make it more inhabitable for you as well. He needed it to be perfect so the two of you could be here for all eternity together. Him and his savior! His beloved devotee!

When you returned to his shrine after a week of not seeing him with bruises on your face, he was livid. Who had harmed you? Why would they hurt you? Hurt his destined spouse? How dare they… how dare they.

You shared your woes and prayed for salvation once more, this time from your family. They believed you to now be bad luck due to the nobleman’s sudden death and began to verbally and physically abuse you. You looked so miserable… just like him. His poor, precious worshipper didn’t deserve such treatment. No. They deserved to be worshipped.

The god now had enough power to leave his shrine due to your generous offerings. Your worship gave him the power to become a great chaos god once more.

And the god once more inflicted his wrath upon your enemies. This time he tore them apart limb from limb, starting from their mouths to their hands and eventually to their feet. He wished to start out by ripping out the tongues that spat venomous words at you. To break every bone in their hands and feet for the pain they inflicted on you. For every sin committed against you, he would inflict it back tenfold.

This is the first time you were able to see his true form as well… you were so silent the entire time of his massacre of your family. Was he so gorgeous that you were speechless? How cute his darling was!

You began to sob when he held your face between his blood coated palms. The smell of iron was too much for you that you began to retch but he was oblivious that he was the reason of your disgust and fear. Those damn humans must be too much for you to be around… perhaps he should whisk his spouse away?

So he did just that. His arms and tentacles tightly wrapped around you as he whisked you off to your new home together. The revamped shrine. He hoped you’d love it since he worked so hard on making it habitable for the two of you!

You struggle in his grip but he doesn’t relent. You must be shy… how cute!

You try to push the tentacles from you, but they merely wrap around your form to gently massage you. He needed to calm you before you hurt yourself… it was okay!

“Be not afraid, my dear.” His voice made you jump in surprise but he chuckled. “I’m not going to hurt you… you’re my beloved after all. My savior.”

“You’re the god of this shrine…” you whispered softly, which made the god eagerly nod. “You’re Xeros.”

Yes! That was his name! The one he had forgotten over the years. You were so sweet to remember his name…

You don’t even have time to protest before his tentacles wrap around your body in an enticing manner. The extra appendages slip into the waist band of your pants and tease your tight hole. You whine at the sudden touch but more tentacles wrap around your arms and legs to keep you in place

“Your offerings were wonderful but I need a better offering since I eliminated your problem…” Xeros smiled down at you with his hauntingly beautiful face. “I demand you as my offering. You will be my eternal spouse.”

“But I’m just a human- ack!” You gagged on the tentacle that was suddenly shoved into your mouth. Your eyes welled up with tears as the god beamed at you.

“It doesn’t matter to me what species you are. I’m a god. I will always get what I want.” Your back arched when one of his slimy tentacles finally breeched the tight ring of muscles and wriggled inside of you. You moaned loudly at the overwhelming sensation of pleasure that overcame you.

“See? Why would you resist such pleasure?” Xeros leaned to whisper, his hot breath tickled the shell of your ear, “I’m far better than any mortal lover. Don’t you think so?”

Your mind is too cloudy to form a coherent reply, your eyes rolled back in you head as his black tendrils ravish you. The tentacle in your mouth soon replaced with his tongue.

This was the way you should always be. You deserved every orifice of your body to be stuffed to the brim with him. To cry and whine in pleasure that ascends human comprehension. To be his spouse and to lay his eggs.

You deserved to be worshipped as his deity

[cyber-streak-2]

Title: Time To Go

{Based off the Swap AU that @jsab-fujii and I created together.}

———

The Treecko and Duskull duo had known the terrifying fact for a while. They had learned the fact—the truth of what was going to inevitably happen. Nearly every single moment after discovering that, it was always on Duskull’s mind.

If it had just been one of them disappearing, that would’ve been bad—Duskull didn’t want to leave Treecko behind, and he didn’t want to be alone. But, it was worse with the fact that it would happen to both.

He just... the Duskull wanted to live peacefully with Treecko—he didn’t want to disappear—he didn’t want Treecko to disappear. However, after everything, every Pokémon from the future would disappear—including the two of them.

That was, unfortunately, a guarantee.

It was a terrifying thing.

Duskull didn’t want to go away. He didn’t want to die. He was sure that nobody would want this to happen. What... would it be like? Painful? Painless? Sudden? He had questions, most of which he doubted could be answered.

At least until it happened. He could figure it out himself at that point.

How did Treecko feel about this...?

“Duskull...?” He heard his friend’s voice, and turned to look at him. As he did, Duskull noticed something—his vision was blurry. He could feel something dropping from his eyes. ...Oh, he was crying...

“I-... um... I-I’m...” Duskull stumbled, trying to find the right things to say. He could say that he was okay... but that wasn’t true—he wasn’t okay. He wasn’t calm, he was terrified.

The Duskull was sad, he felt stressed, he didn’t want this to happen...

Treecko had never been the greatest with these sorts of things—but, he could at least try to help his friend—and, at the same time, he already knew how the little Duskull felt. He didn’t like seeing him like this.

Duskull could begin to hear Treecko to talk, but his thoughts—the scary thoughts of what was going to happen, were growing louder. Oh, Arceus...

He was only snapped out of the thoughts—focusing on Treecko again—when, all of a sudden, everything felt... heavy.

Duskull nearly fell down to the ground, if not for the fact that Treecko had carefully managed to grab him before that happened.

Why... was he feeling like this...? Did-... did it have something to do with what was going to happen to him and his friend...?

Still in the arms of Treecko, said Pokemon got down into a sitting position. He looked exhausted. Duskull was beginning to realize that, he, too, was feeling the same.

Exhausted and heavy... like it was difficult to move—difficult to stand—or float, in the Ghost-Type’s case.

“...We’ll be fine, Duskull.” Treecko tried to reassure his companion.

Duskull whimpered, and hugged his friend—his face against the Treecko’s chest, while he wrapped his arms around him.

Now, he was beginning to notice something something else: Specks of golden light coming off the both of them.

Were... were the two of them even beginning to glow...? With a quick glance, he knew that it was happening to the both of them, not just himself.

“I-... I don’t want this to happen, Treecko.” The terrified Duskull whimpers, his body starting to shake slightly. “I... don’t want to disappear. I don’t want us to disappear.”

“I-I’m scared... I’m so scared...”

Treecko wrapped an arm around the shaking Duskull to return the hug, while his free hand was carefully placed on top of Duskull’s head.

“Everything will be fine... I promise.”

The two of them were silent for a good while after that—both were unsure what to say, but, Duskull found his friend’s presence calming, and vise versa.

At least the two were together.

As things started to feel more... bad—more strange—Duskull looked back up at his friend. “T-T... Treecko...” The Ghost-Type muttered—he never got to say anything else to his friend.

Seconds later, the frightened Duskull was engulfed in the golden light... and was gone. Treecko frowned, placing his hands back down into his lap.

He stared down, closing his eyes. A single moment passes, before he shares the same fate...

[tiredofsatansbullshit]

WHAT DO I DO NOW??

[bizarrelittlemew]

i can't wait to be 30+ and still in fandom and i can't wait to be 40+ and still in fandom and i can't wait to be 50+ and still in fandom and i can't wait to be 60+ and still in fandom and i can't wait to be 70+ and still in fandom and i can't wait to be 80+ and still in fandom and i can't wait to be 90+ and still in fandom and i can't wait to look back on my life and know that i loved things deeply and passionately and was inspired to create and was part of communities with incredible people from all over the world brought together by the stories that touched us

[rendevok]

Act I ~ The Prince

A tapestry for Let No One Sleep by @azalawa-scroggs on ao3

[ronanceisintheair]

"I'm sure this has been done before"

Yes me too but I want to hear your interpretation. I want to hear your play on it. I want to see how you connect the dots, how you shift the puzzle pieces and make them fit. Show me it through your eyes.

[sanguinesmi1e]

Everyone knows Jason likes Jane Austen and reads romance. Everyone assumes the romance he reads is historical. And some of it is, they're not wrong, but most of what he reads is reverse harem monster fucker smut.

When Red Hood gets sacrificed by a cult during a summoning ritual and the ghost king shows up in all his eldritch glory, Jason has never before been more grateful for his full face mask. He has never blushed so hard in his life. He's the same color as his mask right now, actually. He is way too into the tentacles. Like, way more than he ever thought he'd be. It’s honestly impressive that any blood is managing to leave his body with the way it’s all rushing to his cheeks. He's also about to swoon like one of the heroines in his favorite old bodice rippers. 

That last part probably is the blood loss, though.