#alicia the ao3 commenter | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

dp-marvel94 · 1 year

Text

(Not) Alone - Chapter 6

Summary: Consumed with worry and scared after watching Dani almost die, Danny begs her to come home with him and meet Jazz. He wants to see her safe and happy and taken care of more than anything. An important reveal also weighs heavy on him – Dani isn’t the only living clone… and the other is him. He needs to tell her the truth; maybe that will convince her to agree to the idea of telling his parents. And she'll stay in Amity Park with him, where he'll never have to worry if she's safe ever again.

Meanwhile, Dani has mixed feelings. Still reeling from the loss of her clone siblings, Danny’s unexpected worry and care make her uncomfortable. And her own guilt… she hurt him and helped get him kidnapped twice. How can he care about a mistake like her? But having clean clothes and a bed is wonderful. And things aren’t as simple as she thinks.

Will Dani accept the help she needs and let herself be loved? Or will she push Danny and Jazz away and run again?

Word Count: 3,706

First-> Previous -> Next

Also on AO3 and Fanfiction.net

Morning dawned, golden light wafting through the blinds. Slowly, Dani drifted to wakefulness. Warm covers, soft mattress, fluffy pillow… The girl rolled over, letting out a pleasantly sleepy groan. She blinked once, twice. Eyes finally opening to…

An unfamiliar beige wall, a framed picture of a lake and trees

“Wha…” Dani’s brow furrowed.

Oh, Right. She was in the Fentons’ guestroom. She’d come back here with Danny after Vlad’s.

Danny… Dami. The impossible reality hit her.

Damian, one of her clone brothers….. he was still alive. He was stable, a half ghost like her. She spent the entire day with him, at the mall, in public. She’d never even dreamed of that happening. An awed smile dawned on her face. They’d talked, eaten together, shopped. It had been incredible! Wonderful! Amazing! She’d been gifted with this impossible miracle.

But…. the familiarity with Jazz, Dami’s comment about the Phantom plushie (He ‘didn’t authorize’ it.... He was so different.) Jazz had gone to the mall with them too and she was pretty cool. (But her other brothers weren’t…. They still weren’t here…)

She pushed the sad thought away. No. It was okay. Great even! She had her brother and that was more than enough (even if he was different). Still, the question…. What would come next? (She’d almost died. She’d yelled at Dami. He’d asked her about meeting ‘their Mom and Dad.’)

But despite her dawning worries, Dani felt pretty good. She was stable, she was safe, she had her brother, and… she’d figure the rest out.

At breakfast, Jazz asked. “Do you want to stay a few days? Mom and Dad won’t be back from Aunt Alicia’s for another week.”

“It’s summer break. We don’t have school to worry about.” Dami added. “We can go out and do whatever you want.” Both teen’s eyes were soft, with more than a hint of pleading.

Dani frowned, hesitating. She had a suspicion what this was, a ploy to convince her to remain long enough to meet the Drs Fenton. And maybe even to stay more permanently. (Because they felt responsible for her; they had to take care of the poor, pathetic clone girl).

The girl pushed the dark, ugly thought away with a scowl. No, that wasn’t true. The two older teens…. Dami at least… didn’t think that. (But… did Danny?)

Dani forced a smile, shrugging. “Sure. It could be fun.”

A few more days couldn’t hurt, right? There were so many more things to see and do here. It would be loads of fun! Plus a few more days of delicious, free food (that she wouldn’t have to steal). And that super comfy bed to sleep in (instead of the ground.) And she’d have more time to bond with Dami (Danny, a small part of her reminded). And maybe with Jazz too? It would be so great!

(She wouldn’t have to be alone anymore.)

“Awesome!” Her brother smiled. “What do you want to do today?”

Dani’s brow furrowed, considering for a long moment. “I wanna ride a rollercoaster?” The girl finally asked.

Dami and Jazz look at each other. The boy gave the red-head a grin. “That sounds awesome. Jazz?”

The older teen smiled. “Oh. I think we can make that happen.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Much like the previous day, Dani helped the older two teens with the dishes. Again, they piled into the red-head’s car and drove off.

Arriving, Jazz parked and the three got out of the vehicle, walking towards the gates.

“Three tickets please.” The red-head asked.

They rode Dani’s coaster first.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“We have to ride the Ferris Wheel!” Jazz practically dragged the two half ghosts to the ride. The wheel turned, the three arriving to the top. “You can see everything from up here! Isn’t it beautiful?”

The two half ghosts traded unimpressed looks. “We can both fly higher than this.” Dami muttered.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“You have to try fried oreos.” Dami implored, handing the younger girl the paper carton.

Dani took a bit through the crispy fried batter, teeth sinking into the center. The warm, sweet middle melted on her tongue. Her eyes popped wide. “Tis iss a’esoome.” She gushed through her full mouth.

(She wished Muscles was here to try this too.)

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Bum-per-cars! Bum-per-cars! Bum-per-cars!” Dani cheered, running to the gate.

She laughed maniacally and slammed into the older teen.

Jazz’s eyes widened, face indignant as she backed up.

Dani cackled, spotting her brother. Another target!

His eyes wide, he sped away…

“Take that, you little twirp!” Jazz slammed right into her.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The next few days were full of adventure.

Dami and Jazz took her to the Zoo….

“That tickles!” The girl giggled, holding a branch up to the giraffe. The long tongue brushed her fingers and she loved it! (Would Daniel have liked this too?)….

“Hey there, Deliah.” The ghost boy smiled at the purple-back gorilla. He sighed wistfully, watching the creature scratch her backside. “Did I tell you about the time she beat up Skulker?” A scowl. “No, I don’t mean Ghost X, Jazz.”.....

It started to drizzle as they moved to the chimpanzee enclosure. Still, Jazz grinned. “Oh, this is great! Maybe we’ll get to see the chimps rain dancing.”

Dani furrowed her brow. “Dancing… chimps? Really?”

“No! I’m serious!” Jazz insisted. “Chimpanzees have been observed to rhythmically sway in the rain, as if dancing. It’s a behavior not clearly linked to gathering food, finding a mate, or maintaining status in their trope. And it’s not just dancing! In 2015, researchers found four populations of wild chimps in West Africa where individuals habitually hit and throw rocks against trees or toss them into hollow tree cavities. This led to stone accumulation in the sites, reminiscent of human cairns.”

Dami side-eyed her. “What’s a cairn?”

“It’s a man-made pile of stones, created for some kind of purpose, often a ritual one like a burial mound.”

“So… the chimps were making piles of rocks?” The youngest frowned skeptically. “So what?”

“There’s strong similarities to human ritual practices: the association of a particular location with a collection of artifacts over time, and ritualized behavior patterns. It could even be considered ‘quasi religious’ though I think that’s over-reaching. But still it’s so exciting! This could have implications for our understanding of the origin of human ritual sites!”

Dami and Dani traded looks. “Still not that exciting.” The boy crossed his arms.

“Well.” Jazz lifted her chin haughtily, turning. “You two just have no spirit of discovery.” She stomped away, intent on watching the chimpanzees dance in the rain.....

The three visited the Amity Park History Museum. Dami and his friends took her to the Nasty Burger. Jazz took her to the library.

All the while, it did feel like she was being wooed. They were trying to butter her up, to show her how good things were here. They were trying to show how much fun they would have together…

“Snowball fight!” In the Fenton’s back yard, Dami threw a ball of snow at the younger half ghost.

“No fair! I don’t have ice powers!” The girl argued, ducking behind the tool shed.

“Not yet!” Another snow ball… then his hand rested on his chin thoughtfully. “We should probably have Frostbite check on your core to make sure though.”

“Check this!”

“Hey!”

Making do, Dani threw a ball of dirt at him.

The soil impacted with a thwump, Dami’s mouth falling open in mock offense. Within minutes, they were covered in mud and chunks of melting ice. Both laughing, they panted in the grass, staring up at the clouds. (Vlad’s garden, laying on the grass with Muscles, Bones, Tiny beside her. Her heart ached….)

Dami showed her his model rockets and they played with her plastic dinosaurs together. Jazz brought out her old Barbie dolls and they played marine biologist, therapist and patient, and a fancy tea party planning to assassinate the PTA chairwoman.

Her older brother took her flying. He showed off his powers, taught her new ones. “Hold your hands like this…. Now pull from your core.”

“Like this?” Ectoenergy danced on her fingers.

“Exactly. Now… make it solid, like a wall. Nothing’s getting past you.”

Dani’s brow furrowed, picturing a shield in front of her. Earlier, he’d shown her his shield; she’d felt its shimmering solidity. The sensation…. It buzzed under her fingers. Steady, stable, familiar.

The green barrier popped into existence. “I did it!”

“Good job!” The boy’s hand enthusiastically swung forward to high five her... “Umph.” Only to impact the shield. “Yep. It’s solid.” Dami grinned sheepishly.

This was everything she could have here by her brother’s side. Everything she could learn from him.

“Take that, tin can!” Dami lobbed a bolt of ice at Skulker.

The metallic ghost dodged. “As if I’d fall for that again, welp.” A missile shot from his back, diving for the pavement.

“Ghost boy!” An excited teen girl yelled below.

“What are you doing?” Said ghost boy shouted. “Run!”

Eyes suddenly wide and alarmed, the teen obeyed. “Ah! My ankle.” She tripped over some debris.

“Shit.” Dami muttered. In a blink, he dove, reaching her just in time. His hand gripped her shoulder, turning them both intangible just as the missile exploded.

“You saved me, Phantom!”

The ghost boy grabbed the teen under the arms, zooming away from Skulker. “For the last time, stay away from ghost fights!”

He dropped her off behind a car, returning to the fight.

Another ectoblast shot at the metal ghost. “Dani! Now.” The boy shouted.

“Don’t try to distract me with-”

The girl shot a blast from behind, distracting Skulker long enough for her brother to get him in the thermos.

Dami let her help out in ghost fights. He took her stargazing above the clouds.

“You see that really bright star there?”

“Yeah?” Dani’s finger pointed.

“That’s Polaris, the North Star. And if you look to the left a bit… yeah, there.…that’s the tail of Ursa Minor….”

Her brother taught her constellations and told her stories. He laughed, sharing snacks with her. Just them and the stars.

And Dani loved it. She loved learning, exploring, just spending time with her brother (and even Jazz). Maybe she didn’t mind so much, being wooed. The longer she stayed, the more comfortable she felt.

And yet….

The bed was comfortable but it still felt strange, waking up in the same room everyday. Walking passed the door to the Master Bedroom. The closed lab. The family pictures in the Living Room. This wasn’t just Jazz and Danny’s home but… Jack and Maddie Fenton’s too.

Dani pretended she didn’t hear the conversation behind closed doors.

“Mom and Dad are going to be back on Monday.” Jazz’s hushed voice

“I know.” Dami, quiet, more than a hint of dread. “We need to talk to her, don’t we?”

“You need to talk to her.” Pointedly.

“Me!?” His voice cracked. “But you’re better at that stuff Jazz. You-”

“It needs to be you. She trusts you more than me.” The crossed arms were audible. “And meeting Mom and Dad isn’t the only thing you two need to talk about.”

“What?” Almost sheepish.

“I’m not deaf, Danny. I heard what she said to you before you told her about the fusion. She’s putting on a brave face but-”

Dani walked away before she could hear more.

Those pictures… Jack and Maddie Fenton, tender eyes on each other in their colorful jumpsuits. Jazz and Danny as little kids, grinning at the camera in their dress and tiny suit. And the four together, the parents - faces bright with laughter- wrapped arms around their children, each's cheeks red with embarrassment and yet still…. Both smiled, not-so-secretly pleased.

Family Photos. These were family photos. (Photos Dani didn’t belong in. Couldn’t belong in). The thought of meeting the Fenton parents sent a knot of dread through her. But still…

Dani had Dami and Jazz and they were both so good to her. They paid attention to her, spend time with her. She wasn’t alone. She was safe here, safe from Vlad. (Guilt snapped… No, none of what had happened, what he had convinced her to do, was her fault.) And she was happy.

Everything was great….

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“That is it.” Jazz crossed her arms. “We are going shopping today and we’re getting you your own clothes and shoes.”

“I have my own shoes.” Dani complained. The trusty tennis shoes she’d been wearing when she arrived in Amity Park, swiped from a thrift store after her first pair literally fell apart.

“They literally have a hole in the toe.” Dami crossed his arms too.

The clone girl scowled. “The hand-me-downs are fine!” She pouted, eyes staring down at said hand-me-downs, all the way to Jazz’s car…. “I don’t need new clothes.” During the car ride… “I’m fine. You don’t have to buy me stuff.” Into the mall… “I don’t want stupid new shoes.” Down the long hall and into the shoe store. “You’re just gonna be wasting your money.”

The protests were ignored, the red-head single-mindedly leading her by the hand to a bench. Dani gritted her teeth. So she was being ignored, huh? She weakly pulled at the hand holding her, with half a mind to intangibly slip away. But… no. She wouldn’t do that. (Dami’s panicked face when he thought she’d run away again flashed in her mind.) No. She wouldn’t do that to him.

“Sit.” Jazz instructed, pointing down.

One last try… Dani fixed wide pleading eyes on her brother, looking for an ally. Someone to put a stop to this and insist they go out for ice cream instead.

No such luck. The boy pointed to the seat too, face just as serious as the older teens.

“Traitor.” The clone girl muttered, sitting with a huff.

Fine. She’d just do what the other two want then. It was fine. (That everything being great didn’t last that long, huh?)

Jazz used the metal shoe-size measuring thing to figure out Dani’s size. Then, the older two teens offered various shoes to try on, much to Dani’s complaints. Sparkly Mary Janes? Really?

Dani hated (or at least pretended to hate) every option and yet, Jazz would not take no for an answer. “I refuse to let my little sister leave here without at least one new pair of shoes.”

The younger girl wrinkled her nose. Her? Jazz’s little sister? No way…. Part of her recoiled at the thought. Just like she thought before, letting Jazz and Dami buy her fun stuff was one thing but this was too much, too serious. They were trying to take care of her again. (Like she deserved that. This week… even… even getting to have fun and not be alone was too much, too good for a mistake like-)

No. Was this really such a bad thing, being taken care of, being helped? (Being loved?)

In the end, she didn’t say anything more.

Danielle accepted the shoes with minimal argument. And she barely complained when Jazz dragged her clothes shopping. It was… actually kinda fun, like playing dress up. But only kinda.

After picking out some basics - jeans, t-shirts, a new hoodie, underwear, socks, and something Jazz called a ‘training bra’- Jazz had offered a dress. It was pink and sleeveless, cinching at the waist and falling to her knees.

Dani frowned into the mirror, head turning side to side as she studied herself. The girl swiveled at the waist, watching the skirt flare. Gently, she took her hair down out of its ponytail. It fell to her shoulders, and she gave a full twirl this time (like she’d seen Barbie do in the movie).

“Dani! Let us see!” Jazz cheered from outside the stall.

Swallowing nervously, the girl opened the door. “Ta-Da?” She spread her hands.

“You look so pretty.” The red-head clapped. “Danny, look!”

The boy looked up from his phone; he’d quickly gotten bored while Jazz picked out clothes for her to try out. And yet he still smiled, eyes lighting up as he saw her. “Looks great, sis.”

Dani swiveled nervously. “You think so?”

Both teens nodded, the affirmatives easing some of the tension in her chest.

“Do you like it, Dani?” Jazz asked, tone earnest.

The younger clone turned to the mirror, staring at herself again. With her face clean of dirt, her hair brushed and clean, wearing this dress… she almost didn’t recognize herself in the mirror. She looked like a different person. And…. something in her relaxed, the corners of her lips turning up. She thought she liked the person she saw.

Dani turned back. “I think I do.” She finally smiled.

“We’ll buy it too then.” The oldest teen said. “Do you want to try out anything else? Or go anywhere else?”

The youngest girl’s brow furrowed, considering. “Can we go to that dark store with the loud music? The one with the skeleton in a suit in the window?” (Bones… her heart whispered sadly, imagining her clone brother in his favorite bedsheet.)

Both older siblings laughed, Dami rolling his eyes. “Yes, we can go to HotTopic. Sam’s going to love that when I tell her.”

“What? Why?” Dani’s brow furrowed.

“It’s her favorite.” The boy wiggled his fingers. “Since it’s so dark and moody.” At the continued confusion. “She’s goth.”

The girl nodded, still not quite understanding. What was a goth?

Still, she quickly took off the dress and put back on the hand-me-downs. The three gathered all the clothes and bought them at the register.

Walking through the doors of HotTopic- It was even better on the inside! Dani didn’t even know what half the things were but they were cool. There were dresses with spiderwebs and bats and galaxies. T-shirts with all things spooky and weird- including ghosts to her and Dami’s excitement and Jazz’s groan. And so much jewelry in different shapes and colors. Danny and her looked through the clearance rack and found matching black shirts with giant red spiders.

“It’s Spiderman!” Dani cheered. (She knew who Spiderman was, at least!)

“We should get them.” The boy suggested, pulling out a third. “There’s another one. This’ll fit Jazz, right?”

He shoved it at the red-head who eyed it suspiciously. She took the garment and held it in front of herself. “Yes. It would?” She frowned. “I don’t even like Spiderman though.”

“How do you not like Spiderman?!” Dami argued, offended. “Even Dani likes Spiderman.”

“Yeah!” The younger girl agreed. “Hey, wait…” That felt a bit like she’d been insulted.

“Okay. I’m ambivalent to Spiderman.” Jazz huffed.

“I don’t know what you being able to write with either hand has to do with this.” Dami countered smartly. “But I can’t tolerate this wishy-washy attitude towards the best superhero ever.”

“Good grief.” The older girl snatched up all three shirts. “I’m just going to buy them so you shut up.”

The boy followed, a victorious gleam in his eyes.

Dani hurried after, poking him in the arm. “Spiderman is really cool, but…” She remembered their first mall visit, the Amity Park store with all its Danny Phantom merch. Her brother holding the plushie… his tiny likeness, nose wrinkled suspiciously. Her voice lowered conspiratorially. “Danny Phantom’s definitely the best superhero ever.”

He stopped, looking down at her. His eyes crinkled, an authentic affection. “Have I told you you’re my favorite sister today?”

The younger girl smiled up at him, her heart warming. She took his hand and very softly…. “You’re my favorite brother…” A hesitation, which name to use? Part of her heart said Damian, as she’d said this whole week. But…. “Danny.” She finally said. Danny Phantom, the ghost boy she’d fought Skulker with, who just taught her how to make shields.

She still didn’t understand at all but he was both. Damian and Danny. And Danny wasn’t so bad.…

Her brother’s eyes rounded and softened. He squeezed her hand back, not commenting on the name. But still there was something… a gentle gratitude on his face.

Then giving Danielle another smile, Danny looked forward…. “Hey Jazz, can we get ice cream?”

Back in the food court, the three finished the trip with ice cream.

Like earlier, doubts and questions, guilt and shame, still lingered in Dani’s core. So many thoughts and worries (things she probably needed to talk to Danny about)….

But finally giving into the older two teens' desire to buy her her own clothes and letting herself enjoy the experience. Finally calling her brother by his other (first? real?) name, Danny....

It was like, some of the weight was lifted from her shoulders, a new peace countering the pain in her heart.

Maybe, Danny had noticed that new lightness in her too. “Enjoying your ice cream?” He asked, a freer, more easy jovialness in his voice. (Like just seeing her happier made him happier)

The girl nodded enthusiastically. “Cotton Candy is the best!”

The boy laughed, eyes sparkling teasingly. “You haven’t even tried mint chip yet.”

The two bantered for a bit about ice cream flavors, Dani squealing indignantly as Danny ruffled her hair with sticky fingers. He grinned smugly… then let out his own offended squawk at the youngers’ sticky fingered assault.

Luckily, Jazz intervened before any ice cream could be spilled. “Stop! You’ll get drips all over your clothes.”

The boy sobered slightly. Then, popping the end of the cone in his mouth… “Hey, do you want to go to the park with me tonight?” He asked Dani.

“Sure.” The clone girl nodded. Then… “Why tonight?”

The boy shrugged. “There’s something extra fun about hanging out there after dark. Not having to share it with anyone.” He smiled down at her, excitement shining in his eyes. But then… “There’s just… something special when the park’s dark and quiet. The wind’s blowing through the trees, the fireflies are out. And the stars…” A quiet reverence, a strange wistfulness lingered in the words. And when he met her eyes… “I really want you to see it.”

Dani couldn’t say no. Despite the odd seriousness and intensity… (There was more to this than just sitting on the swings and riding down the slide in the dark, wasn’t there?). The girl couldn’t help but smile, her heart filled with warmth. “I’d love to.”

#Danny Phantom #my fic #(Not) Alone #invisobang 2023 #Invisobang

8 notes · View notes

possessingtheproperspirit · 11 months

Text

Thanks for the tag @mppmaraudergirl!

1. How many works do you have on AO3?

33!

2. What's your total AO3 word count?

614,012, which includes a few co-written fics.

3. What fandoms do you write for?

Just HP!

4. What are your top 5 fics by kudos?

A. The Price We Pay - 274k, canon WIP, starts in sixth year

B. Forget-Me-Not - 55k, super brutal and angsty (SA content warning), muggle AU, 10 chapters

C. the way you left me - 10k, canon divergent one-shot, also super brutal and angsty, what is my problem?, grief

D. Vibrations - 5k, muggle AU one-shot, smut-town, riding the revenge rail, not at ALL brutal and angsty

E. A Lesson in Communication - 12k, muggle AU one-shot, miscommunications abound, but in a fun way

5. Do you respond to comments? Why or why not?

I do, although sometimes it takes me a while, because I think I've already done it.

6. What's the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

99% of my angst has a happy ending. One that doesn't is A Fate Resigned, so I guess that is my angstiest ending.

OR! I forgot about this one. My first HP fic was Not Waving But Drowning, following Remus in the lead-up to Oct '81. So that surely has the angstiest ending.

7. What's the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?

Again, 99% of them end happily. I think the end of Forget-Me-Not felt like some well-earned happiness after a long and difficult road, so maybe that one?

8. Do you get hate on fics?

Not really. I've had one or two arsey comments about not updating enough on TPWP, but that's about it.

9. Do you write smut. If so, what kind?

Yes although not that often. It's Jily all the way.

10. Do you write crossovers? What's the craziest one you've written?

No, I don't see the appeal personally.

11. Have you ever had a fic stolen?

Not that I know of!

12. Have you ever had a fic translated?

Not that I know of!

13. Have you ever cowritten a fic before?

I've co-written two fics, one with @corinnesamuels and one with @mppmaraudergirl, and thoroughly enjoyed both experiences.

14. What's your all-time favorite ship?

Jily through and through. Although there are many (Will/Alicia, Josh/Donna...) in second place.

15. What's a WIP you want to finish, but doubt you ever will?

I don't think there's anything I've started that I won't finish. Whether people will still care about them by the time I've finished them is another story...

16. What are your writing strengths?

Sad stuff. And dialogue, I think.

17. What are your writing weaknesses?

Often under-planned. Rambling. Sometimes plotless. I could go on.

18. Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language for a fic?

Speaking as someone who tried to get through French A Level by using Google Translate (spoiler: it did not work), I think this is something I'm better off avoiding.

19. First Fandom you wrote for?

ER, baby! I was a HUGE carby fan (Carter/Abby) and was dismayed when the writers fucked it up so spectacularly.

20. Favorite fic you've ever written?

It's probably between The Price You Pay, because I love writing the different characters, or the way you left me, because it hurt so bad.

Tagging @kay-elle-cee @sunshinemarauder @thequibblah @emeralddoeadeer if you fancy it!

#tagged #writing #jily #jple #fic #tpwp

9 notes · View notes

razzle-zazzle · 11 months

Text

Whumptober Day 29: i only sink deeper the deeper i think

Scented Candle + "What's happened to me?"

2886 Words; Sit Still, Look Pretty

TW for forced drug use, forced helplessness, doll whump, emotional abuse

AO3 ver

“Hold still, darling.” Carrie tittered.

Dion huffed. He couldn’t even move if he wanted to; he still didn’t understand why this woman insisted on making that joke. It wasn’t funny.

Carrie finished up the eyeliner, leaning back to examine her work. “Oh, it’s coming together so nicely.” She hummed, putting away the eyeliner. She removed the headband, setting it aside and grabbing the brush. She hummed as she worked, some soft tune that Dion had never heard before meeting her but had long since grown to intimately hate. The brush was gently carded through his curls as she worked, in a way that only served to remind Dion of his mother.

Dion’s eyes pricked. He swallowed those feelings down. If he cried, it’d ruin the makeup—and while Dion would love that, Carrie wouldn’t. So he shoved the ache down as far as it would go, begging his mind to latch onto a safer topic.

The notebooks flashed in his mind. Good enough.

Dion needed to remember them, needed to keep Carrie’s past victims in his mind at all times. He had to stay strong, had to remember what awaited him.

Esperanza. Felix. Vera. Callum. Lesley. Tobias. Alicia.

Seven names. Seven notebooks.

Seven neat little graves in Carrie’s backyard.

Dion couldn’t let himself become grave number eight. He couldn’t. So even as Carrie braided back his hair, even as her touch both burned under his scalp and reminded him of his mother—

Dion wouldn’t fall for it. He wouldn’t let Carrie get to him. He wouldn’t.

Esperanza. Felix. Vera. Callum. Lesley. Tobias. Alicia.

So what if he’d lost his one good chance to escape that night? Carrie fell asleep long after he did—it was hardly a chance to escape. Just a movie night, upstairs, out of the diamond-wallpaper hellroom. So Dion hadn’t failed, or anything—he had just learned more about where he was, which would make his escape easier.

Carrie carding her hands through his hair as the movie played, humming softly under her breath, Dion leaning into her touch—

That night—that was a fluke. Dion was just tired, that night, too emotionally spent to fight Carrie’s hold. But he wouldn’t fail like that again, no way!

Esperanza. Felix. Vera. Callum. Lesley. Tobias. Alicia.

Dion repeated the names in his head, repeated their faces. His throat tightened. Carrie let go of the hair elastic, letting it snap into place at the end of his braid. She clasped her hands together, oblivious to the thoughts circling in Dion’s head. “There!”

She turned the chair so that Dion was facing the mirror, moving his braid to rest on his shoulder. The dress he was wearing was a picturesque blue sundress, with flowers made of bright yellow thread on the left shoulder strap. As Dion watched, Carrie added three flower hairpins to the braid.

He looked pretty. He looked healthy, like he wasn’t slowly losing his mind in this godawful hell. He looked like he’d come right out of a magazine themed around summer fashion—all that was missing was a bright smile.

Not that Dion would smile, even if he could. Grimace, maybe. Stick his tongue out like a child, possibly. Anything to ruin the perfect little image Carrie had so carefully built.

“I bought this dress the same day I first saw you.” Carrie commented. “Isn’t that neat? Just hours after getting this beauty and I’m finding the perfect Doll to put it on!” She smiled, bright red lips like a bloody cut around bone-white teeth. “Must have been destiny!”

Dion snorted, a low sound in his throat. It was the most he could do, really.

Carrie ignored his obvious disdain, instead gently pushing his mouth into a smile, splitting his face. She fussed around a bit, trying to get the shape just so—

She pulled away, presumably to get her camera, leaving Dion staring at the mirror. Smiling at it, like he wasn’t absolutely furious—

A sunhat landed on Dion’s head, Carrie staring into the mirror as she contemplated it. She tilted the hat this way and that, murmuring over which way would be the best way to angle the dangling blue ribbon tied. All that was missing was a convenient little breeze, and Dion really would look like he came straight from a magazine, pretty and perfect and fake.

Bile rose in the back of Dion’s throat. He was going to be sick.

Maybe that’ll show her, if you vomit all over this stupid dress, Dion thought viciously. He grabbed onto his anger and held it fast, as though it might shield him from falling apart at Carrie’s touch.

Carrie finally settled on how she wanted the hat positioned. Dion’s cheeks were starting to hurt. She smiled, dragging Dion’s chair over so that he was in front of the wallpaper. “Such a gorgeous doll.” She hummed, lifting the camera.

Click!

+=+=+=+=+

Dion curled up under the comforter, breathing slowly. The cuff around his ankle was a familiar pressure.

His throat tightened. His eyes stung, and Dion let the tears fall—there was no makeup to ruin, not now.

He stared out into the darkness, out into the hellroom that he’d grown so used to. How long had it been since he’d seen the sun? Since he’d been outside of Carrie’s house?

He didn’t know. He didn’t know.

Quietly, he mumbled to himself.

“Esperanza. Felix. Vera. Callum. Lesley. Tobias. Alicia.” he muttered. “Esperanza. Felix. Vera. Callum. Lesley. Tobias. Alicia.” He needed to remember them, needed to keep their names alive in his head for when he escaped.

When he escaped…

Dion’s chest ached. He missed home so badly—how long had it been? How was everyone doing? Were they missing him? Were they okay?

Dion didn’t know. He wished he could, wished he could leave this room and go home where his family was.

Esperanza. Felix. Vera. Callum. Lesley. Tobias. Alicia.

Dion would make it out. He had to.

He just wished it could be soon.

+=+=+=+=+

“This one will require a different background.” Carrie explained, lifting Dion from the chair with an arm around his back and the other under his knees. “So we’ll be using the upstairs studio!”

Dion’s heart threatened to pound his ribs to bits in his excitement. Yet at the same time, a sense of resignation blossomed in his stomach. He was on the full dose, tonight—his chances of getting away were next to nothing.

He was already all cleaned and dressed—another blue dress, this time, but instead of the pretty flower sundress it was much longer, nearly reaching Dion’s feet, with puffy white sleeves like seafoam. This dress was a darker blue—almost black—at the hem, fading up into lighter blue at the bosom. It looked like waves, much to Dion’s dismay.

(Water. Why was it always water? The curse wasn’t real, and yet Dion still felt queasy in this dress, still felt awful. At least when Carrie bathed him, shudder-inducing as that was, it was always short.

At least there was no actual water involved, this time. Probably.

Dion couldn’t put it past Carrie to find new levels of awful with every outfit.)

Up the stairs they went, through the green-striped halls and into a… sitting room? It looked like the living room, but it clearly wasn’t, lacking the TV. And the living room was down the other way.

Instead, this room had a chaise lounge as the centerpiece, with a large screen set up behind it. There were a few cabinets and shelves to the sides, but they were far enough from the lounge itself that any photos taken wouldn’t include them.

Ugh, Dion hated that he was already thinking in terms of the photos Carrie would undoubtedly take. He hated that he knew anything about Carrie’s process—hated that he knew anything about her at all.

Carrie laid him out on the lounge, arranging one of his arms to rest his hand on his forehead like he’d just fallen dramatically onto the thing. Dion snarled in the back of his throat, but Carrie was already fussing with the train of the dress and how it flowed off the edge of the lounge onto the floor.

Carrie hummed, moving over to the shelf on the left. There were candles sitting on it, though Dion couldn’t see the labels from where he was sitting. Carrie opened a drawer, pulling out a box of matches.

The candles started to burn, setting the area aglow. Dion watched as Carrie lifted one up to set on the small drawer next to the lounge, the scent wafting over to him.

It was kind of… citrusy? But also a little spicy-sweet. It was kind of familiar, the way it tickled Dion’s nose.

Carrie was still puttering around, setting up the scene for her little photoshoot. She draped a green sheet over the screen, straightening out the wrinkles and folds.

Dion’s arm was starting to hurt. The candle continued to burn, the scent sharp against Dion’s nose. It was a little lemony, too, he realized. Really familiar.

All at once, it hit him. That scent—

Dion’s eyes stung and his throat tightened. He knew that scent. That was… that was magnolia. That was the scent of his mother’s perfume. He could picture her now, coming out of the caravan after getting herself ready for the day, the scent yet to be washed away by the daily toils and struggles. He could even picture his father pressing kisses to her neck, and picking up the scent as well, until both of his parents smelled like magnolia perfume—

Dion’s breath hitched. His throat tightened. A fresh wave of homesickness washed over him, squeezing his chest. How long had it been? How long had it been since he had seen his mother’s face, heard her laugh, felt her hands carding through his hair? How long before he would ever see her again?

(What if he never saw her again? What if his last memory of her was her reminder not to dilly-dally when he walked off for the nearest payphone?)

His face was wet. His eyes burned.

At once, Carrie was on him, dabbing at his eyes with a handkerchief. “Shh, shh,” She murmured gently. “There’s no need to cry, Doll. You’ll ruin your makeup.”

But Dion couldn’t stop. And he couldn’t explain, either, couldn’t tell Carrie that he was crying over a scented candle because it reminded him of home—

Not that he wanted to tell her anything. She didn’t deserve anything from him, so even if he wasn’t utterly unable to move he still wouldn’t tell her why he was crying.

(He wouldn’t be able to through the tears.)

Carrie huffed. “Really?” Her lips pursed, and her hands fell to her hips, like Dion was somehow the one in the wrong. “Dolls don’t cry, darling.” She huffed.

But Dion wasn’t a doll!

Still, Carrie persisted, even as Dion’s sobs became audible. After a while, she gave up, letting him cry and ruin his makeup.

He wanted to go home. He wanted to go home.

(He wasn’t certain that he ever would.)

Carrie watched, tilting her head. “Wait…” Her frown disappeared, and she made a frame with her fingers. “Oh, that might work!”

Dion sniffled. Carrie went back to fussing around with the room, then left it entirely. Dion’s sobs were the only sound in the silence, muffled by his inability to open his mouth.

He wanted to go home.

But more than that, he was tired. Eventually, he ran out of tears to cry, his eyes stinging and his throat raw. He wanted to go home. He had no idea how he’d ever accomplish that, how he’d ever get away from Carrie.

Carrie came back, the camera around her neck and a case in hand. She looked Dion over, for a moment, then smiled. “Yes! Oh, doll, I should have known you had something special up your sleeve!”

Dion wanted to vomit. He didn’t cry on purpose!

“This will look so much better, with just a few adjustments…” Carrie leaned in, opening the case and pulling something out—more makeup? “Just a few little touch-ups…” She mumbled, re-applying the lipgloss and redoing the eyeliner. “Oh, this will look so lovely!” She closed the makeup case. “Your makeup running from the tears, the tragic posing… it’s perfection!”

She stood back, lifting the camera. “Absolutely perfect, darling.”

Click!

The candles continued to burn.

+=+=+=+=+

Dion walked a circle around his room, moving purely for the sake of it. The chain attached to his ankle dragged behind him, scraping along the floor—Dion didn't care. He was too tired to care.

He had turned on the bathroom light, after the lights in the room had flicked off, if only so that he wouldn't feel like he was being swallowed alive by the darkness. The bright yellow light cut into the room through the doorway, allowing Dion to see in the gloom.

He continued to pace, restless energy buzzing in his limbs.

How long had he been here? How much longer did he have? The notebooks flashed through his mind—Esperanza, Felix, Vera, Callum, Lesley, Tobias, Alicia—he had a year and a half at the most, four months at the least. He really didn't want to be stuck here for more than a year—but would he make it out in less than four months? Could he make it out?

He didn't know. He didn't know, and that frustrated him more than anything else.

Dion passed by the vanity, only to stop. He turned towards it, looking at the mirror, looking at this reflection—

What had happened to him? Where was the death-defying acrobat, where was the confidence? The longer he stared at his reflection in the gloom, the less it looked like Dion. He could so easily picture the makeup Carrie might put on him, could so easily imagine away the signs of stress on his face. That man in the mirror—that wasn't him. That was someone else, someone who Dion could never be but was getting ever and ever closer to—

Dion wrenched his gaze away from the mirror. He resumed pacing, continuing in his lopsided circle until exhaustion dragged him to the bed.

He ended up pacing for quite a while.

+=+=+=+=+

“Thanksgiving is coming up…” Carrie hummed, digging through the wardrobe.

Dion started. But—if that was—

He’d been taken on October 3rd. If it was already close to the end of November…

Oh god. Oh god.

Dion’s breath hitched. But he was still spent from two nights prior, still too tired to summon any new tears. He’d been here for nearly two months. Two months!

The notebooks flashed through his mind. The dates—Carrie never kept a doll for less than four months, never longer than a year and a half. If Dion could trust that she’d be the same with him, then…

Then he had two more months to get out of here, minimum.

As tired as he was, Dion wanted to cry so badly right then and there. Two months, and he’d only left the hellroom twice. Two months, and he still had no idea how he was going to get out of here.

Two months, and his resolve was already slipping—

Carrie started to dress him, oblivious to Dion’s crisis. Black boots went on over dark red pants. A loose white shirt with buttons at the neckline went on next, though it was quickly covered with a stiff red button-up jacket with flared sleeves.

Carrie buttoned up the jacket with care, straightening the collar. She smiled, grabbing the headband to hold Dion’s hair back. “Hold still, doll.”

Dion huffed. Oh, how he hated her. It wasn’t funny the first time, and it wasn’t funny now. But it did yank him right out of his spiral—two months!—so, as much as he hated it, he was at least a little thankful. But not really.

He didn’t pay attention as Carrie carefully applied makeup—this song and dance was long past the point of familiarity, at this point. Two months! Two months of being dolled up in this shitty little hellhole! Dion wanted to scream—

But he wanted to get slapped even less.

Carrie finished, removing the headband and moving onto his hair. She used a comb to pull it back, teasing out the ends and then pinning them in place with hairspray. She was letting it hang loose, this time, brushed back in a way that looked windswept, with just a few locks hanging forwards to frame his face. The moment she was done, she turned his chair so that he was facing the mirror—

Dion’s blood ran cold.

“See?” Carrie beamed, “Oh, I just knew you’d look lovely in red!”

Dion stared at his reflection with rising horror. At the dusky red eyeshadow and liner, at the red jacket with the folded collar—

At the bright red lipstick on his lips, the exact same shade as Carrie’s. At the bright red lipstick like a bloody cut, on his face and hers.

Carrie was already moving him away from the vanity, arranging him on his chair for her photos—

Dion was going to be sick. The image stuck in his mind, of him and her with matching red lipstick, of red red red around his eyes and on his body like so much blood, like one big danger sign—

Click!

6 notes · View notes

drarrypotterrenaissance · 1 year

Text

Everything I Ever Wanted

Twenty years after the best birthday of Harry's life, he celebrates again. For @harryjamespotterweek2023, Day 7 (Birthday, Found Family) Rated G, 325 words. Read on ao3 here Thank you so much @harryjamespotterweek for hosting such a fun event! I have really enjoyed the prompts and tropes this week, as well as having the opportunity to be creative and get into a writing/posting routine. I also appreciate every single person who has liked, commented on, or reblogged my fic this week, you all brighten my day! 💜

Harry was dreaming. The floor was dirt beneath him, and there was a storm raging outside. He felt smaller, and a young Dudley was sleeping on a sofa beside him. Vaguely, Harry realized that he already knew what would happen next; Hagrid would knock down the door right after Dudley’s watch flipped over to midnight, in three… two… one…

Bang!

Harry woke with a start. He had fallen asleep on the couch, just like every night this month, but now his house was strangely full. The grandfather clock was just chiming midnight, and there was a chorus of “Happy Birthday” surrounding him. Reaching for his glasses, Harry saw Ron, Hermione, and the rest of the Weasleys all around him, joined by Luna, Neville, Dean, Seamus, Pansy, Blaise, Alicia, Angelina, and Hagrid. None of them had been there when he’d fallen asleep, but they were all there, beaming at him and cheering. And there, in their midst, emerging from the kitchen with a cake balanced in front of him, was Draco.

“Happy birthday, love,” he said, coming to join Harry on the couch and letting him look properly at the pink and green cake.

“Thank you,” Harry said, accepting his kiss somewhat dazedly. “Thank you, all of you. But what-”

Draco cut him off. “Molly made the cake, and Hagrid decorated it for you. We wanted it to be special.”

Harry looked around at the beaming faces filling his home, suddenly overwhelmed with a rush of emotions. He had spent his eleventh birthday with the family he couldn’t wait to get away from, and now, twenty years later, he was beginning his thirty-first birthday surrounded by the people he had chosen for himself.

“Make a wish,” Draco said, but when Harry blew out the candles he couldn’t think of a single thing to wish for. He was eating birthday cake at midnight surrounded by the people who loved him most, what more could he possibly need?

#hjpweek2023 #drarry fic #harry potter fanfiction #birthday #found family #happy birthday harry!#fluff #my fic #my writing

8 notes · View notes

striveattemptfail · 2 years

Text

The snow's coming down, I'm watching it fall | Zimbits, G, 2k

Summary: It was because of this growing love for the holiday that Jack agreed to throw a Christmas party at his and Bitty’s place. At first it was just inviting Coach and Suzanne for Christmas, so they could spend time up in Providence with Bits until New Year. Bob and Alicia always did the same. But then they started inviting old teammates, turning the family dinner into a full-on party. So many loved ones visiting them during one of Bitty’s most favourite times of the year, so of course Jack wanted to spend it with Bitty too. Read on Ao3

A/N: For the OMGSP Secret Santa Exchange. Takes place after Jack and Bitty are married. I hope you enjoy it, @peanutdoodler~!

Title from Christmas (Baby Please Come Home) originally by Darlene Love. Thank you to @atlasthemayor for the quick beta and sweet comments<3 Any other mistakes are mine.

—❄️—❄️—❄️—❄️—❄️—

Bitty loved Christmas.

Jack loved Bitty.

So Jack liked Christmas now too.

When he was younger, he usually dreaded the season. It meant that both Papa and Maman would be even busier than usual with games and dinner parties and shmoozing with stuffy people Jack hated talking to.

He’d much rather stay at home, watch tape, and drink hot cocoa.

Bitty grew up a lot differently.

The holidays meant seeing family, baking even more somehow, genuine laughter and joy around the house. He loved the decorations, the music, the spirit.

When they finally got together, Bitty’s happiness was infectious.

And Jack grew to love Christmas.

It was because of this growing love for the holiday that he agreed to throw a Christmas party at his and Bitty’s place. At first it was just inviting Coach and Suzanne for Christmas, so they could spend time up in Providence with Bits until New Year. Bob and Alicia always did the same.

But then they started inviting old teammates, turning the family dinner into a full-on party. So many loved ones visiting them during one of Bitty’s most favourite times of the year, so of course Jack wanted to spend it with Bitty too.

He thought about this as he packed up after his last game for the month, the irony of how ready he was to return home and help his husband out with a party.

—❄️—❄️—❄️—

ii.

Bitty was in full swing setting things up for Christmas day.

Jack was out finishing the last leg of his roadie before coming home for the holidays, meaning Bitty had a lot to prep for.

The decorations had been set since Cyber Monday. The menu was decided two weeks ago so he had time to pick up groceries as the big day drew closer. Over the past week he started setting ingredients aside, pulling dishes and trays together to speed up his process so he didn’t have to go searching for them. Yesterday, he already began chopping up the vegetables he needed to prep for cooking all day on the 24th.

Bitty was in His Zone.

He checked his phone for a quick update, about to text Jack that he was going to be buried in their kitchen for the next few days and to let himself in, when he decided to call his husband instead.

—❄️—❄️—❄️—

iii.

“Hi, sweetpea!”

“Hey, Bits.”

“How’s the roadie?”

“Good. You watched the game?”

“Of course! Nice hatty there, Mr. Zimmermann.”

“Hah. Thanks.”

“You’ll be here by the 23rd right?”

“Mhm. By the afternoon if weather allows it.”

“Hopefully a bit earlier! I want you to taste test a few things before I go wild and actually start cookin’ up for Christmas.”

“Haha, okay. Anything particular?”

“Testing a new pie recipe.”

“‘Swawesome. So I—huh? Marty? Oui. Mm. D’accord.”

“Gotta go?”

“Yeah. Marty says the bus is loaded up.”

“Okay, travel safe! Miss you, honey.”

“You too, Bits.”

“Talk soon?”

“Yeah.”

“Bye, I love you!”

“Love you too.”

—❄️—❄️—❄️—

iv.

[Approx. 24 hours later]

Bitty hung up the phone, finally letting out the slow sigh he’d been holding ever since Jack told him that he would be coming home later than they planned.

It truly was a series of unfortunate events: a popped bus tire, plane issues, new flight plans... Jack had sounded so defeated when he relayed the news to him. Bitty expressed that he was disappointed by the delay, but he knew that things happened, none of it Jack’s fault, and he didn’t want Jack worrying about him.

So he told Jack that he could manage with Shitty and Lardo to help him out for the Christmas party.

And they did. The two were as boisterous as ever, making an early drive to their condo to help. They bickered with Bitty all while they assisted him with the extravagant Christmas meal he had planned for.

Then Jack texted him that his connecting flight got delayed by weather. And then that his baggage got lost.

Bitty kept up his spirit for Shitty and Lardo with every update Jack gave, though he doubted he convinced them that he was just fine, y’all, now get! You two need rest before the realchaos starts tomorrow morning!

(Lardo had let out a low groan while Shitty barked out a laugh. Then they said their good nights and retreated to the spare room.)

He had wanted this Christmas to be extra special since it was the first big celebration he and Jack were hosting.

And he was determined to keep it just as special, even if Jack only made it for half the day.

Still, that didn’t mean he couldn’t wait up for his husband on the couch, passing the time by scrolling for miles on Twitter, instead of looking at the door and hoping that Jack finally walked through.

—❄️—❄️—❄️—

Jack was late.

He was so very late.

It started just after he got off the phone with Bits. The bus was loaded up and ready to go, just as Marty said, but less than a mile after they left their hotel, the bus popped a tire.

Which would’ve been fine, since the team usually flew on charter, but apparently their plane had a major mechanical issue, so they were told to either spend a day (maybe even two) to wait for it to get fixed, or to each catch a regular flight home.

After a quick discussion, everyone agreed to fly back individually, simply wanting to get back to their respective hometowns. The single guys were upset, but not as much as the guys with kids and partners they had to break the news to.

Bits was much more forgiving than Jack expected.

“I thought you said you wanted me to taste test things?” Jack had asked, unable to help his disappointed pouting.

“Oh, sweetie, don’t worry about that,” Bitty had reassured him. “I can call up Shitty and Lardo to make their way here a bit earlier. They can help out.”

He then sighed, swiping a hand through his hair. “I’m sorry, Bits.”

It didn’t help that he missed his single connecting flight because of a sudden snowstorm, and that his luggage got lost in transit because of the delay. Then when he finally landed in PVD, the taxi line was long as all hell because apparently everything happening in Jack’s life wanted to go wrong.

Which meant that instead of arriving home in the afternoon of the 23rd like he wanted, he actually got home past 11pm on the 24th, sneaking into his own condo quietly like a thief in the night. He unceremoniously dumped his bags by the door and kicked off his boots. Trudging over to the living room to take a seat on the couch, he decided to gather up a bit of energy before disturbing Bitty, who was probably asleep in their bedroom.

He was surprised to find himself proven incorrect. Instead of an empty living room, he found Bits lying on the couch, hand on his phone like he fell asleep while scrolling through it.

(Jack smiled, because he probably did.)

He tiptoed over to where his husband was sleeping soundly to kiss him on the forehead.

“Joyeux Noel, Bits,” he whispered.

At this, Bitty stirred awake, blinking up at him with a sleepy smile.

“Welcome home, sweatpea. Merry Christmas.”

The fatigue of the past 30 hours immediately melted away, and Jack figured Christmas could be a lot worse than coming home to the man he loved most, greeting him warmly with a soft kiss.

—❄️—❄️—❄️—

vi.

Bitty vaguely recalled the night before—he knew that passed out on the couch after he sent Lardo and Shitty off to bed—but for some reason he didn’t wake up in the living room like he thought he was going to.

Instead, he woke up in bed, Jack snoring quietly next to him.

He suddenly remembered the door clicking open, the soft thump of bags hitting the floor, and being awoken by familiar lips pressing onto his forehead.

Jack was home.

Even though he’d coached his friends through his intricate meal plan yesterday, he had still been stressed and upset that Jack had missed out. But now, all the sadness he’d suppressed melted away, leaving only a deep warmth and satisfaction that Jack was finally here, with him, just in time for Christmas.

—❄️—❄️—❄️—

vii.

Despite the delays he faced, Jack managed to spend Christmas at home. Lardo and Shitty greeted him with a big smile and a crushing hug respectively, and before long Bitty whipped everyone into a well-oiled machine to prep for the Christmas party ahead of them.

Yes, Jack included.

Bitty did give him the chance to bow out, considering his hectic travel, but the hours he spent with Bitty in bed (clothed, completely asleep) gave him enough energy to lend a hand.

He still wanted their first Christmas party in their home successful, after all.

And to spend it with his most favourite person in the world, along with some of his other favourite people?

There was nothing more Jack could really ask for.

—❄️—❄️—❄️—

viii.

[Several hours of cooking later]

The party was in full swing, food and presents laid out just in time, friends and family mingling and laughing all around their home. Somehow, he and Bits managed to catch a moment together, Jack corralling them to stand by the entry to the hallway.

Then he grinned to himself.

“You know,” he said conspiratorially, “we’re under mistletoe right now.”

Bitty looked up at him with a smirk. “You planned this on purpose, didn’t you, Mr. Zimmermann?”

Jack could only smile even wider, pulling Bitty close by the waist, and kissed him.

“OOOOOH!” Shitty hollered from across the room, as he often did. “FOOOOOINE! That’s a big fine right there, Jack!”

The room erupted with laughter, half the crowd agreeing with Shitty, the other half wolf-whistling. Somewhere, Jack could hear Suzanne and Maman cooing at them.

Jack flipped everyone the bird, deepening the kiss against Bitty’s smiling lips.

—❄️—❄️—❄️—❄️—❄️—

[BONUS: The day after the party]

Suzanne and Coach Bittle go out to explore Providence since it was their first time visiting the city in the winter, Maman and Papa going along with them, so he and Bitty decided to spend the day out together too.

Unsurprisingly, they made their way to a frozen pond, skates in hand. Bits said it was deemed safe a few days ago, and there were a few people already skating around by the time they arrived.

Since it was just the two of them, they couldn’t play shinny, but a quick skate date wasn’t out of the question.

They passed the hours in the freezing cold, filled with smiles and laughter as he and Bitty skated around the pond with their hands locked the entire time.

When they left, flurries began to float down from the clouds.

—❄️—❄️—❄️—

ii.

He and Jack headed back as fresh snow fell around them. After checking his phone, they found out that their parents were still out, so he and Jack grabbed a few supplies from home before going back outside to mess around with the newly fallen snow. They built two little snowmen, one a little taller than the other.

“That’s adorable!” a voice called out.

Bitty turned around to find a young boy looking down at their creation. He was bundled in a yellow jacket, wild curls tucked away from his face with earmuffs covered in sunflowers.

“Do you mind if I take a photo?” he asked, looking up to beam a gap-toothed grin at Bitty.

He snuck a glance at Jack, who nodded.

Bitty couldn’t help but smile back. “Sure, honey!”

The boy squealed out a Thanks! before snapping his photos and leaving. He and Jack then took their own selfies before heading back home once again.

Later, when their parents returned from their day trip and Bitty regaled what he and Jack had been up to, he considered it a wonderful day well spent.

#omgcp #omgcheckplease #check please #zimbits #eric bittle #jack zimmermann #jercy attempts words #fanfiction #fanfic #i hope you enjoyed and that i did your oc/aggie justice~! happy holidays!!#also yes i still go here LOL. it ain't just bats around here—there's gay hockey too!

30 notes · View notes

just-another-busy-fangirl-writes · 2 years

Text

Family Costumes, Sterek, 100w, general [AO3] @sterekdrabbles 10/28/22 (space, dress, moon) theme: Halloween | Drabble Series starts HERE

Stiles and Derek walked Eli through the neighborhoods to trick-or-treat, heading toward Aiden’s house with the promise of pie.

Stiles was pretty sure (and also fairly proud) that Eli’s costume was the most unique they saw, until they found Erica and Boyd’s brood.

“Family costumes,” Stiles commented, “clever.”

Their eldest, Alicia, was dressed as the moon, while their toddler was a star. Erica’s dress had galaxies printed on it. Boyd was the only one who didn’t quite fit the space theme: he was just in a t-shirt that said simply WEREWOLF.

“That’s cheating,” Derek commented dryly, but Boyd just shrugged.

#sterekdrabbles

37 notes · View notes

ladylilithprime · 7 months

Text

The Best Medicine

Series: Fluffy Faerie Tales

Fandom: Supernatural

Pairing: pre-Sastimmy/Jamstiel (Jimmy Novak/Sam Winchester/Castiel)

Rating: Teen and Up

Tags/Warnings: Half-Fae Sam Winchester, Jimmy and Castiel Are Twins, Autistic Jimmy and Cas, Selkie Jack Kline, Sam Winchester Is Jack Kline's Adopted Father, Faerie Iron Allergies, Minor Burn Injuries, Cuteness

Summary: The property where Sam meant to establish Lighthouse CommodiTeas had come with a fully stocked kitchen. It hadn't mattered at the time since Sam couldn't make food to serve without risking cursing his human customers. So once he hired a full time baker, it mattered a bit more... as did the accidental hazards left behind.

For: @fluffyfebruary challenge!

Prompt: Day 18: Pain

Read on AO3

WHEN THE PROPERTY for the new cafe that would eventually become Lighthouse CommodiTeas was first purchased, it had included a full kitchen with a stove, two ovens, a large walk-in freezer, and plenty of counter space for making whatever food or baked goods a new cafe might want to serve. Serendderch, glamored to look human and going by the name "Sam Winchester" with his one-month-old adopted son strapped to his chest, had smiled politely if somewhat awkwardly as the real estate agent had taken him through the kitchen's amenities and refrained from commenting that most of the equipment would likely not be used. He might have liked to offer some variety of food to compliment the drinks he planned to serve in the cafe, but one of the hazards of his faerie nature was that any food he made tended to become infused with his magic, and a human eating faerie-made food would unfortunately quickly succumb to the magic's pull and find themselves unable to eat or even desire to eat anything else and would eventually starve to death. It was a hazard exploited by the Unseelie Courts to keep their ensnared human servants beholden to them, and it was not something Sam wanted to risk inflicting on his customers.

Fortunately, the same was not true for drinks, even the fancier drinks with whipped cream and berry puree, though he was careful not to cross the line into food territory with smoothies. With only himself working in the cafe full time, it was a firm line of which he needed to be both conscious and careful. He kept scrupulous records and, luckily, the fact that faeries were incapable of lying worked in his favor. It got better when he hired Charlie, but she had freely admitted that her cooking ability only extended to ramen and microwave dinners, and they both agreed that trying to serve sandwiches would infringe a bit too much on the menu of The Black Cats' Kettle diner down the street. He didn't think Tasha Banes and her twins, Max and Alicia, would actually mind too much, but it still felt in poor taste (no pun intended) after the Banes family had been such a big help to him with raising and caring for Jack.

And then the Novak brothers had come to Avalon, New Jersey, and, to Sam's surprise and quiet joy, had decided to stay even after the week of service required to fulfill their bargain was up. Cas turned out to be very good at baking, and enjoyed the precision and methodology of it far more than interacting with customers. While Jimmy didn't enjoy baking to the same degree as his brother, he could still manage the task with the same skill when Cas had the day off, and he was better at handling their customers than Cas, so it evened out. Sam and Charlie, despite their respective safety issues with cooking, were still able to fetch and carry as needed.

"Ow!"

Or so they had thought.

Sam snatched his hand away from innocent-looking baking tray sitting on the counter, hissing at the sight of the red welts forming on the pads of his fingers. His shout drew the attention of Jimmy and Cas both, even though only Cas was supposed to be on shift this early. Jimmy lunged for the first aid kit under the counter while Cas came hurrying over to investigate the tray.

"It's cold," he pronounced in bewilderment, studying the tray and its raw balls of cookie dough sitting undisturbed on the wax paper sheet. He looked over at Sam and his clearly burned fingers, then back at the tray, and frowned. "Where did this tray come from?"

"It was part of the equipment left behind by the previous owners when I bought the place," Sam said after a moment of studying the tray. "I don't recall any of them doing this before, though."

"You touched this side here?" Cas pointed, and bent down to examine it more closely when Sam nodded. "There's no scratches in the metal that I can see, but the color of it is different on the underside. The top seems to be some sort of nonstick coating, but the manufacturer didn't bother coating the bottom."

"Guess we'll need to go through the pans later to see which ones it's safe for me to touch and mark them somehow," Sam sighed, surrendering his hand to Jimmy when his wrist was gently tugged towards the other man. "The lighter ones should be aluminum, not iron."

"Might be better to just get rid of the iron ones," Jimmy said absently as he carefully applied the paste of aloe and ground vervain and mullein leaf to the burns on Sam's fingers. "I can run them across the river to the Good Will where someone without an iron allergy can use them and see if they have more aluminum ones."

"Just do the drop off if you like," Sam said, controlling a wince at the way the burns were starting to ache. "Get a donation receipt, too. New baking trays falls under a business expense, so we can just order them along with anything else the kitchen needs."

"Can we afford that?" Cas frowned further, staring around the kitchen, eyes lingering on certain places like he was picturing new or replacement equipment. Sam smiled softly in his direction, pleased by the interest and touched by the concern.

"We have quite a bit of savings in the cafe's account from all the years I was running it by myself," he pointed out. "Yes, we can definitely afford it, and even if we didn't have such a thick financial cushion it would still be considered a good investment to upgrade the kitchen wherever needed."

"It's going to take a couple of days to learn the particular temperments of these ovens anyway," Cas sighed. He eyed the offending baking tray, then carefully shifted the wax paper and cookie dough off of it and set it aside. "How's your hand?"

"Going a bit numb, but that may be the burn poultice at work," Sam reported, studying the white gauze Jimmy was taping into place around each fingertip. Heat rushed to his face when Jimmy leaned forward and pressed a featherlight kiss to the newly bandaged fingers. "What was that for?"

"Is kissing an injury better not something faeries do?" Jimmy asked, looking up at Sam with a fairly credible expression of puzzled curiosity. "Or is it just a human thing?"

"It's certainly a very important part of healing for humans," Cas chimed in with a similar tone to his twin. "It seems a shame if faeries don't even know about it."

Cheeky brats, both of them, Sam thought to himself. He did have to admit that his hand felt better, though.

#fluffy february 2024 #rk writes #supernatural fic #pre-slash sastimmy #urban fantasy au

2 notes · View notes

hinnyfied · 11 months

Text

20 questions for fic writers

Thanks for the tag, @lanaturnergetup, @merlins-sequined-hotpants, and @pocket-lilacs

1. How many works do you have on AO3? 39

2. What's your total A03 words count? 86,766

3. What fandoms do you write for? Harry Potter (probably won't ever stray from that tbqh)

4. What are your top 5 fics by kudos?

Free as a Bird - Al coming out to Harry (also my very first fic ever?? 🥹)

Happy Little Accidents - How James Sirius came to be

Saying Goodbye - The morning of Fred's funeral

Fight or Flight - A Harry PTSD moment through Arthur's POV

Someone to Hold On To - A Harry and Ginny fight & a tender moment between Harry and Teddy

5. Do you respond to comments? Why or why not? Yes!! Every comment I get makes me so happy. I always want to say thanks!

6. What's the fic you wrote with the angtiest ending? Easily Dust to Dust, which is a Remus POV at James and Lily's funeral. No cheer to be found, I fear. 💔

7. What's the fic you wrote with the happiest ending? Honestly, a lot of my fics have moderate-to-severe fluffiness at the end, but one that is particularly feel-good and flufftastic is Two Scoops, which is a very wholesome moment between Al, Molly, and George.

8. Do you get hate on fics? nope! T god.

9. Do you write smut. If so what kind? I've dabbled in very light smut. I don't even know if it counts as smut TBH, but there's a tiny bit in You Could Have Mine (Padma/Alicia) and a little more in A Harpy's Nest (Harry/Ginny).

10. Do you write crossovers? What's the craziest one you've written? Nope! It's not for me.

11. Have you ever had a fic stolen? I don't think so!

12. Have you ever had a fic translated? Nope

13. Have you ever cowritten a fic before? Have I before? No. Am I currently in the midst of doing so? Maybe. 😏

14. What's your all-time favourite ship? Hinny babyyyyyy

15. What's a WIP you want to finish, but doubt you ever will? All my current and planned WIP are ones I'm hell-bent on finishing (psshhhh what perfectionism??)

16. What are your writing strengths? I think I write pretty natural/in character dialogue!

17. What are your writing weaknesses? Clunky descriptions (why is prose so evasive?)

18. Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language for a fic? It would be super cool! I doubt I will though.

19. First fandom you wrote for? Harry Potter

20. Favourite fic you've ever written? I don't know if I have one that stands above the rest as my single favorite, but one that comes to mind right now is Duty (Bill & Molly & Gideon & Fabian). It's hella angsty and touches on both wizarding wars.

tagging @ashesandhackles @turanga4 @celestemagnoliathewriter

#harry potter #hp fanfic #tag game

4 notes · View notes

deckthehaus · 2 years

Text

Welcome to the final day of Deck the Haus! We have 4 fics and 1 podfic for you today. Don't forget to leave the creators some love in the form of kudos and comments!

Creators, if your work was revealed today, please change your posting date to today so that your work will show up in the most recent Check Please works on AO3. AO3 explains how to change your publication date here.

Without further ado, here are today's revealed works:

DAY 5 REVEALS

maybe tonight (the stars align)

[Nursey/Dex - T - 4,980]

It’s been five months since Dex has seen Nursey in person, the longest they’ve been apart since graduating Samwell three-and-a-half years ago. They’ve stayed in touch – texting on a regular basis, virtually watching movies together every other week, and Frog FaceTime calls at least once a month – but they haven’t been in the same room since the summer. He’d deny it if asked, but he’s had a countdown app going on his phone ever since he invited Nursey to spend the weekend in Maine.

Or, Nursey and Dex spend a winter weekend at a lakeside cabin in Maine.

Operation Get Bitty Better

[Bitty/Jack - G - 1,678]

After two weeks of taking care of sick teammates, Bitty finally catches the flu going around campus. The team rallies together to return the care he's given them.

Baked with Love (it’s the thought that counts)

[Bitty/Jack - T - 2,159]

Bitty gets food poisoning from someone else's pie right before the holidays, and he can't stand the thought of baking or eating anything even remotely pie-adjacent. What can he do if he can't show his love through baking?

He wants to woo Jack with baked goods but now he can't (and of course in this situation there's *pining*)!

No Kiss Goodbye

[Nursey/Dex - T - 4,495]

It was just going to be a short break, but Dex needed to head home anyway. He was needed. And he was running late for his train. But when Nursey called out, he had to stop.

"What? No kiss goodbye?"

[Podfic] Every Time a Bell Rings

[Bitty/Jack, Alicia/Bob - G - 43 minutes]

Jack gets injured during a game and when he wakes up in the hospital he's pretty sure he's looking at an angel.

Podfic of “Every Time a Bell Rings” by iBoatedHere

#check please #omgcp #check please fanart #check please podfic #check please fic #deck the haus #deck the haus 2022

37 notes · View notes

camelliacats · 1 year

Text

not for all the gifts in the world

Having some feels with an old ship off the pro Quidditch pitch~ ;)

Fic: "not for all the gifts in the world" [FFN] [AO3]

Pairings/Characters: Angelina Johnson/Lucius Malfoy, with cameos from Alicia Spinnet & an OC

Rating: K+

Words: ~1,530

Additional info: romance, angst, Next Gen era, 3rd person POV

Summary: Angelina Johnson, ace of the Ballycastle Bats, has a secret admirer. But that's all he'll ever be. She swears.

She's used to having her share of fans. Being around the Weasley twins and Lee, Angelina can rebuff the best of them with a smile one second and slide into an easy joke with her mates the next.

But it's different, having fans and playing in front of people, in a world that's still rebuilding.

The stands aren't full to capacity the way they were back when she longed to turn pro. People come for the spectacle, of course, and the most diehard of fans will cheer as though Dark forces didn't almost win several years ago. But the living, breathing thing that is the crowd just isn't the same.

The permanence of change surrounds Angelina, no matter how far she flies.

It irks her, how those around her go with the flow and aren't bothered in the same way. Alicia debates reconsidering the Quidditch life, since she's still a reserve, and even Katie puts aside these same ambitions, but that's easy enough to guess why, since Fred narrowly escaped death with the castle crumbling around him and George in the war. Katie used to be one of Angelina's and Alicia's primary fans, but she's a rare sight these days, trading off with Lee, assisting Verity in the shop with looking after the twins.

The reminder of the twins, with a renewed bond no one can come between, makes Angelina tug harder than necessary on her gloves, and she winces as the motion yanks on her wrists uncomfortably.

"Watch out there," Alicia warns from the locker beside hers. The shorter woman pauses changing out of her Ballycastle uniform. "You're wearing quite the dour look after flying one of the best games in your life, you know."

Angelina cocks her head to one side, because Alicia's exaggeration hardly warrants comment. Staying steady on one's broom during a downpour is a basic skill, as far as Angelina's concerned.

A knock at the locker-room door alerts them to the presence of one of their team's Beaters, Kolchak. She grins from ear to ear while carrying a gigantic box under her arm. "You've got another one, Johnson."

Angelina holds out her hand, ignoring Alicia's gape and Kolchak's feline curiosity. The box weighs the same as a Quaffle, and she undoes the bow and tears at the paper while Alicia stares.

"I can't believe this is still going on! A secret admirer—and you don't care? The coaches don't care?"

Kolchak shushes her. "Of course the coaches care. Why do you think I wasn't here sooner? They were busy checking it over, using all sorts of Scanning Spells and some such. They take anonymous gifts seriously, even seven years after the war."

Angelina opens her mouth—but stops short of correcting them. Instead, she runs her fingers over the bonbons and picks one up to try. They're filled with treacle tart and dusted with a red powder. "Fizzlesticks," Angelina mumbles around a bite.

"What'd you say?" Alicia furrows her brow.

"These are special-made," Angelina says, "from a place in Belgium. They dust these with crushed, homegrown Fizzlesticks." With every word she speaks, the tingle on her lips intensifies but pleasantly. By the time the chocolate-and-treacle mixture melts away on her tongue, the tingling sensation fades.

She doesn't have to look up to witness the expression the other two witches exchange above her head. "Fancy chocolates and flowers," Alicia comments. "And you don't want to meet your secret admirer?"

Angelina eats a second bonbon and shrugs. Then she changes out of her uniform and hits the showers, leaving those two behind her to gossip. She breezes through the task and dresses in denims and a worn but loved rouge blouse before pulling her cloak on. "See you next practice, guys," Angelina says by way of parting, and she slips the box of bonbons into her Expanded rucksack before exiting.

The rain's let up, so Angelina doesn't bother with a charm to send the drizzle away. She passes the coaches on her way through the pitch and to the main exit—they check with her that she received her mystery gift and Kolchak didn't open it for her—and Angelina nearly makes it past the ticket booth, home free.

Then she notices the disruption in the rain up ahead, to the right, and catches sight of his shoulder. She almost smirks, because of course he can't be caught in today's weather.

"You knew what today's conditions would be," Angelina pipes up, sidling up to him on his left. The drizzle is a drizzle, yes, but a few minutes of it do begin to weigh her locs, and she pushes away a stray one clinging to her cheek. She takes a step closer, falling under his Repelling Charm. "Lucius."

Lucius peers down at her—not by much, since Angelina nearly matches him in height. But his lips are a straight line until he raises one amused eyebrow. "Indeed I did. However, as a dedicated Ballycastle enthusiast…"

She grins. For a man who committed crimes but did his time and testimonies, Lucius Malfoy is a man of simple pleasures. And, amidst all the change in life (her future with Fred shot down, her friends mostly wandering far and not sticking close, his ex-wife and son cutting all ties, the Ministry thankful for his obedience but done with him all the same), Lucius' attendance at Ballycastle Bats matches has been the one constant these last few years.

Well, that and—as of a year and a half ago—the gifts.

"The bonbons are delicious, by the way," she remarks.

"As I insisted they were when I brought Maierwells up at our last meal. They put Honeydukes to shame," Lucius huffs. He begins walking, knowing Angelina will fall into step.

She does with a shrug. "Yeah, well, us common folk don't hop around from country to country, usually, even with magic in our pocket." Angelina sighs. "…the thought's nice, though."

They walk for two minutes, far enough from the pitch to Disapparate. But, when they come to a stop, Lucius turns to face her. "I take it my proposal's no longer under consideration, then?" And perhaps it's a trick of the overcast light, but his eyes are heavy with disappointment when he asks what they both know is all but a rhetorical question.

Angelina adjusts the straps of her bag over her shoulder, the bonbons weighing her down—much like all the gifts before. Because Alicia's right and wrong, really. It's flowers and chocolates. And sometimes it's been a rare Quidditch collectible or nice gear. Once it was jewelry, but Angelina opened the box and shut it just as quickly and shoved it back into Lucius' hands months ago. So today it's bonbons.

But last week was a bouquet of deeply pink peony buds, plump and saturated and colorful like mulberries, and they came with a note: By the time these bloom, you'll be ready to accept me.

Angelina frowns and stares into his eyes for a heartbeat before lowering her gaze. Her eyes land on the fluffy collar of his cloak (always something exotic with these Malfoys—is that mink? No, too red, maybe something else, like fox or marten), and then Angelina glances at her own ensemble…something she could never picture a Malfoy in, something she can't ever picture being allowed into Malfoy Manor.

Dinner is one thing. Dinner can be had, with a fan.

So she shakes her head. "Things are better like this. I prefer them this way," she says. Unchanged, she doesn't add.

Lucius rolls his jaw, souring on the thought but accepting it surprisingly well. He turns away and gives her a curt nod. "I see." He nods a second time and takes a step away from her, taking his magic with him. "Good luck on your next match, Miss Johnson," he bids her, and with a POP he vanishes in the blink of an eye.

The drizzle kisses her skin once more, and Angelina frowns where Lucius had been a moment ago. "So, back to 'Miss Johnson' after all these years…," she murmurs. And yet it's no surprise, because she knows she couldn't give him the answer he wants.

After all, the flowers were never going to bloom, not when they were shriveling up and rotting away just days after she received them.

Still, Angelina wonders when she Disapparates from the pitch and heads home. She wonders what things might've been like if she hadn't left Lucius merely a fan, just another rebuffed name on her list…

At home, she sinks into her lumpy sofa and pulls the bonbons from her bag. She lifts another to her lips but doesn't take a bite, instead choosing to observe the red dust on top. Angelina presses the bonbon to her lips, and the Fizzlesticks' sensation returns, but the tingling sensation skitters down to her arms, and she thinks of Lucius.

Kissing him—kissing him might be just like tasting Fizzlesticks powder.

(But, in time, the desire to know what he tastes like fades, much as the flavors melt away into nothing. And Angelina moves on to more important things, like disposing of the dead flowers sitting on her kitchen sill.)

Done for the If You Dare Challenge (for prompt #215: mink) in the HPFC forum on FFN. OH, MAN. I've not written Angecius in…more than a decade, oops. But I had a hankering, and I got inspiration from peonies we had in our house recently; bought as blooms that legit just never opened up, that simply died on us. I've a long-running hc Ange becomes a Ballycastle Bat and have written about it here and there, but funnily enough writing this reminded me a little of the vibe Louis and Draco give me in all my Loucos from yesteryear (a whole series, but starts with "Tomorrow Still Comes"). Here, tho, Ange sticking to her desire to maintain the status quo, while still upset at all the change around her and how certain of it affected her… I feel a bit for Lucius, bc I like this pining side of him. But idk, I like the tone of this piece and the thread with the bonbons. Btw, the peonies aren't a random inclusion, either; in the language of flowers, the peony can mean a very deep or passionate love (esp when a deep pink/red; respect or adoration/admiration when more purple), so Lucius was being quite earnest here, a broken man hiding a little behind some aspects of his old personality (the extravagant gifts, the haughtiness) but still trying to make a grab for smthg/someone he desires. GAH. Will I ever write a happy Angecius? WILL I? Who knows. *says the girl who adores Daphcius, so ummm*

Thanks for reading, and feel free to leave an anon/unsigned review via the FFN link or comment via the AO3 link at the top of the post, especially if you enjoyed this!

~mew

#hp #harry potter #angecius #angelina johnson #lucius malfoy #<2500 #romance #angst #next gen era #rated: PG #3rd POV

4 notes · View notes

ao3feed-the100 · 1 year

Text

𝑾𝒉𝒂𝒕 𝒊𝒇... ✨ (Alycia imagines)

read it on the AO3 at https://ift.tt/MNHcnsS

by SecretSiren00

Imagines / One Shots Alycia Debnam-Carey and her characters with Y/N ⛱️ Sorry if you see spelling errors, English is not my first language ~~~~~ Open requests 🥂 Version: English 🍭 Vote, comment & share 😜 The gifs and multimedia are not mine ✍🏼

Words: 6360, Chapters: 5/?, Language: English

Fandoms: The 100 (TV), Fear the Walking Dead (TV), Friend Request (2016), A Violent Separation (2019)

Rating: Mature

Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death

Categories: F/F

Relationships: Clarke Griffin/Lexa/Original Female Character(s), Alicia Clark/Original Character(s), Lexa/Original Female Character(s), Octavia Blake/Lexa/Original Female Character(s), Mary Brown/Original Female Character(s), Laura Woods/Original Female Character(s), Frances Campbell/Original Female Character(s)

read it on the AO3 at https://ift.tt/MNHcnsS

#IFTTT #ao3feed #fanfic #the 100 #the 100 fic

0 notes

cutekitten6 · 4 years

Note

OMG I JUST SAW WHO THEY'VE CASTED AS KATE I'M SCREAMING anthony is gonna get his ass kicked so much lmaooo

RIGHT!!!!!!

I'm so hype to see them on screen together because the actress really looks amazing and together??? Theyre just gonna be one hot couple hagshdhdj

Plus she looks like she won't take any of his shit which I'm looking forward to ahahahgdhdj

#bloodredandvividblue #alicia the ao3 commenter #asks #bridgterton #kate sheffield #kate sharma

26 notes · View notes

iamtheprotagoneil · 4 years

Note

your latest post makes think about how neil just up and left with the blue team aboard the viking, without telling the protag and he was left wondering on neil's whereabouts. even in the screenplay, we're told that the protag kept looking for neil in the tenet camp. i can only conclude that it must be getting harder and harder for neil to maintain his composure around the protag, as stalsk-12 mission draws nearer, and hence his distance. (1)

for me, it's why the goodbye scene is so agonizing to watch. neil was all bright smiles and easy charm just like we're used to with him, but it's clear that he's also trying not break down himself, and not make this harder for the protag to let him go. even in this final farewell, he's still trying to comfort the protag IM IN SO MUCH PAIN (2) - alicia

hi, alicia. god, i completely forgot about that small little snippet 😭 now that you’ve pointed it out, i can’t help thinking about how neil might’ve left so suddenly like that because he was avoiding having to say goodbye. assuming the protagonist was still alive when neil inverted in the future, then this goodbye would be very reminiscent of that one. i mean, neil would have to walk into a turnstile, leaving the protagonist behind to march into what very well be a suicide mission. god, it can’t be easy to say goodbye to a lover for the second time with the memory of the last one still fresh in mind (with reminder that they would probably never meet again) 😭

and yes, neil knew what was waiting for him down in that hypocenter when he did say goodbye to the protagonist, so for him to put on a brave face, all smiley and sweet, promising the protagonist some good memories in the future is just... god, neil truly was a very strong man. imagine the storm raging inside him, the turmoil at having to march right towards his death, of having to bite down the urge to run back to his lover so he could go and do his part to save the world. god, i’m literally crying as i’m writing this. why do their love have to be so tragic, dude 😭😭😭

i hope we get some deleted scenes later and it’d include the scene in the chinook. i truly want to see what neil would look like when he could drop all that act, all that bravery and have a moment to collect himself, to really process what was going to happen to him. it’d be very painful, but god, i want to see it still.

#ask #alicia the ao3 commenter #neil #tenet #n*lan truly have conditioned us to enjoy all this pain and angst when he released tenet huh?#gosh imagine neil making a conscious decision of not saying goodbye before leaving #imagine him putting on his gears wheeler asking him about the protagonist and he just shrugged and said nothing #wheeler wouldn't put bc she knew how hard this was for him #imagine trying hard to avoid saying goodbye bc it had been so painful the first time around #only to have to do it anyway despite how hard it was #how difficult it must be to put on that smile and charm and playfulness and tell the love of his life to let him go #skldjflsjdflsdjf i just can't #2pm in the afternoon and i'm crying over fictional boys 😭#*my ramblings

33 notes · View notes

arrthurpendragon · 2 years

Text

Fic Recs - July 20, 2022

Here are some of the fics I reccomend reading today! They’re on my list, so I’m sharing.

*I’m not above bribing (haha) If you go leave reviews/comments on at least 2 chapters of one of these fics, send me the link with the platform you commented on and I’ll send you the form for a request! I’ll make you a poster, banner, manip, or aesthetic*

Bulletproof [Mission Impossible] by Winter326

"I'M A TEENAGER, SO WHAT? I CAN STILL KICK YOUR ASS." when alexia ortega goes on an adventure to find her birth father, she gets a lot more than she bargained on for

READ AT WATTPAD

Electric Feel [DCEU] by @wokenhardies

16-year-old Amber Talbot had a pretty good life; straight As, a job as a babysitter/live-in nanny for the Vasquez family, and a somewhat stable social life. However, when Billy Batson becomes a superhero, Amber winds up getting dragged into the journey alongside him as the Emissary. [First in the Emissary Verse, a DCEU/MCU xover series]

READ AT AO3 + WATTPAD

Force of Nature [Star Wars] by: @darth-caillic

Sith Acolyte Darth Viveza is sent on a mission to spy on the Queen of Naboo and keep an eye on two enemy Jedi. Her instructions were clear. Do so and nothing more. She has a hard time doing this, due to the younger of the two Jedi.

All she had to do was wait. Then she would get her chance. Killing a Jedi would take her one step closer to becoming strong enough to defeat her master. Right?

READ AT AO3 + WATTPAD

Freaks & Geeks [Stranger Things] by @juliaswickcrs

Alicia Henderson doesn't expect this year to be different than any other. Boys, drama, endless homework, and maybe the occasional movie. But then three months after summer break Will Byers goes missing in the woods behind Jonathan's house. And one day later her own face starts to appear on missing posters. But then the impossible happens. Alicia Henderson comes back.

READ AT WATTPAD + FFN + AO3

Murphy & His Law Can Go To Hell [Jurassic World] by @themaradaniels

Eleanor Scott, Jurassic World's lead paleontologist and a former student of Dr Alan Grant, is tasked with showing 19 year old Joan Grant, the daughter of Alan and Ellie, around the park for the week. Masrani leaves Joan an all-access pass to enjoy the park at her leisure, including the parts normally forbidden to tourists, in the hopes that it might convince Dr Grant to endorse the park.

READ AT WATTPAD + AO3

Pyrogenous: Shadowed Destiny [Merlin] by @oneirataxia-girl

Born without status or wealth, Lynelda is willing to do whatever it takes to claw her way to a life of peace and plenty; but when she's been living in shadows for as long as she could remember and stumbles upon fate in the form of a bumbling, powerful boy, she just might have to learn how to step into the sun and embrace the call of destiny, and also embrace her steadily growing powers along the way.

READ AT WATTPAD

A Red Sky’s Warning [Pirates of the Caribbean] by @nixdragon

Charlotte Swann knows she will hate every single second she has to spend chasing after pirates but with a missing sister and a broken heart, she figures at least things aren't going to get much worse. Unfortunately, everyone else seems to be trying to prove her wrong

READ AT FFN + WATTPAD

Trust Love One More Time [Star Trek] by @starryeyes2000

Enterprise's CMO yearns for a family. This need informs his every choice, including joining Starfleet, where he cobbles together a surrogate clan which he protects with the fierceness of a lioness safeguarding her cubs. With time McCoy accepted this new life in Starfleet he prudently constructed as good, as enough. Then an unexpected gift drops into his world.

READ AT AO3

Ultraviolet [Star Wars] by MM1776

Despite her promising future, Indaria Flare remained in the shadows, both because of her job and because of her family's past, one she hasn't managed to escape even after joining the Jedi Order. Since joining the Jedi Temple, Anakin Skywalker had lived in the spotlight of a Universe expecting him to bring peace and balance. Apart they were strong. But together, the light of their love burned ultraviolet.

READ AT WATTPAD

Variations [Marvel] by @ninjasawakenedmystars

In 2012 the Avengers' plan to go back in time and steal the Tesseract goes awry and Loki escapes. Even worse, one of the Avengers Sigyn Larsen-a human telepath and telekinetic-gets caught up in his escape while trying to prevent it.

Declared "Variants" by the TVA, the two have to navigate their way through the mysterious agency that oversees all timelines, all while trying to not kill one another. Not to mention the apparent and troubling closeness of themselves from the sacred timeline constantly nipping at their heels...

READ AT WATTPAD

#ocappreciation #oc fanfiction #oc fanfic #fd: marvel #fd: star wars #fd: merlin #fd: dceu #fd: pirates of the caribbean #fd: jurassic world #fd: mission impossible #fd: star trek #fd: stranger things

21 notes · View notes