#au roulette

[quinloki]

could I ask about either soulmate AU or fantasy AU with Kid, whichever one is more interesting for you? :O thank you!!

Oooh I love both the AUs

Soulmate AU with Kid:

-:- Childhood friends - kind of. You and Kid were in the same grade, in the same school. Your brother Wire was one his friends, though Wire, Heat and Killer were all older than you.

-:- People earned their Soul Marks when they came of age, which was apparently 16 as far as the fates were concerned. Marks would match with your soul mate, but they were so complex, and sometimes in embarrassing places, so people wouldn't realize they were matches until they made physical contact.

-:- You and Kid weren't so lucky though.

-:- You'd been at each other's throats since you were 4 and 5, and the rivalry never ended. You fought physically, verbally, and in any ways made available. you were the top two students in your classes by sheer spite, constantly trying to out do the other.

-:- 10 years you never got along.

-:- Kid got his first, coming into school with two jagged lines down the side of his face. He loved it, said it made him look like more of a bad ass, and it was one of the most easily recognizable marks someone could have. You said of course it was so obvious, a gear-head like him would need something that beats him over the head to get it.

-:- You woke up with yours later and didn't know what to do.

Two jagged lines slipped over your face. It wasn't grotesque, it looked kind of cool, actually, but you were already panicking internally. You knew these marks. Knew these exact shapes.

You'd seen them on Kid's face, and you remember being strangely angry about it. You'd cried after school, the whole weekend you stay locked in your room. Everyone got marks, but the idea that someone else would be so important to him. You fought, you argued, you competed, but you were always in one another's live, even if it was as enemies, you didn't want someone else to come along.

And no one else had.

Standing in the hallway outside class, you watched the cocky grin slip off his face as he turned to look at you. Confusion at first, panic next - you'd seen your own face go through the emotions earlier.

He reaches out to you, electricity zipping through you both at the contact and he pulls you in close, a desperate, heated hug. You can feel his heart racing as he holds you to his chest.

"Heh, seems like I win." He says, voice soft and just for you.

"What are you talking about?" You murmur, unable to think what it was that you were both competing for now.

"I got you, Mouse, what else do I need?"

Send me a character and an AU and I'll give you a treat.

[scribefindegil]

Gold was the goal of bright-eyed, keen-minded Artemis Phaulos, Gold was the goal of his father and grandfathers ‘cross generations, Gold was the means by which Artemis’ sires held shining Ornithia, Gold filled their coffers and bought them alliances. Gold gave them power. Gold, which is coveted also by those god-touched and undying Who over long years built up their stores, untroubled by mortals Such were the denizens living on mist-shrouded, hidden Liménos Uncharted isle, unknown to the swift-shipped sea-plowing sailors Known, yet, to Artemis. Much he had learned over long days of study. So he intended to capture a satyr or nymph of Liménos To carry them back to Ornithia’s fortress and hold them for ransom.

I got assigned “Mythology” as one of my options for the AU Roulette challenge and decided that clearly the best option was to try to retell part of book 1 as if it were a pseudo-Homeric classical epic. In verse. An extremely reasonable conclusion!

[azapofinspiration]

Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: 文豪ストレイドッグス | Bungou Stray Dogs Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Dazai Osamu & Nakahara Chuuya (Bungou Stray Dogs), Dazai Osamu/Nakahara Chuuya (Bungou Stray Dogs), Izumi Kyouka & Nakajima Atsushi (Bungou Stray Dogs), Akutagawa Ryuunosuke & Nakajima Atsushi (Bungou Stray Dogs), Akutagawa Gin & Akutagawa Ryuunosuke Characters: Nakajima Atsushi (Bungou Stray Dogs), Dazai Osamu (Bungou Stray Dogs), Akutagawa Ryuunosuke (Bungou Stray Dogs), Izumi Kyouka (Bungou Stray Dogs), Akutagawa Gin, Higuchi Ichiyou (Bungou Stray Dogs), Nakahara Chuuya (Bungou Stray Dogs) Additional Tags: Post Stormbringer, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, AU, Alternate Universe - Post-Apocalypse, Post Apocalypse, Astriiforme's AU Roulette Challenge 2024, Au Roulette, astriiformes's AU Roulette Challenge 2023, Dazai Osamu/Nakahara Chuuya's Unconventional Mating Rituals (Bungou Stray Dogs), Chuuya mentioned but not actually here, platonic or romantic, You Decide, Soukoku | Double Black (Bungou Stray Dogs), Soukoku, Skk, Stormbringer Gone Wrong, Whoops kinda destroyed the world, Paul Verlaine alluded to, Guivre, Neither Dazai nor Chuuya are mentioned by name but you know it's them, Don't copy to another site, Hopeful Ending Summary:

It was hard to remember how things were like before the Night of Destruction changed the world. Living in the wastelands of Yokohama and Japan in its aftermath, no one's quite sure exactly how it happened either.

Though a stranger at Atsushi's campfire for the night might just offer some illumination on the topic with a story of his own.

@au-roulette

[succikko-draws]

"Day 5: Cyberpunk AU"

My piece for the au roulette day of @narutorarepairweek

They are just made for that kind of AU so I immediately went for it.

Bonus Konan with wings

[Image ID: A digital drawing of Nagato and Konan in a Cyberpunk setting with purple as the main color used. Nagato is sitting on a wheelchair with a laptop on a slab attached to it. He has his right arm replaced with a bionic arm with the fingers ending in claws. He has a bunch of piercings: snake bites, one on the eyebrow, one on the ear and his navel is pierced too. He wears bandages on his legs up to his knee over dark blue pants. On his back, purple tubes are plugged with black connectors. He wears a transparent crop top. On his knees is Tendo, shirtless, who has mechanical parts showing on his arm and has an empty gaze, showing that he is currently deactivated. A bunch of cables are plugged to his back. Nagato is gently caressing his cheek while holding his waist. Behind them is Konan, she has the left side of her head shaved, wears orange lipstick and has a few piercings too: snake bites, labret, nose bridge and a few on the ears. She is wearing a dark short sleeve turtleneck and a purple flowers on her head. She's holding one of Tendo's hands, her other hand caressing his hair. Behind them is a bunch of computer setups, with two screens displaying purple rinnegan symbols. On the background is a bunch of servers with purple wiring on the left. On the center is a balcony with a view of cyberpunk amegakure. Over it cables are suspended to the ceiling as well as a little angel origami. On the left is a banner with the symbol of amegakure which is torn and ripped at the bottom, with a red horizontal paint strike over the symbol. On it is a picture of Hanzo being skewered by several black spikes. Between that and the balcony are two other pain paths, the human and asura paths, being stored in alcoves. They are wrapped standing up, respirator masks on the bottom of their face with a tube coming out of it, several plugs on the back of their heads and a blindfold over their eyes. /.End ID]

[ships-to-sail]

Hooray hooray, its Sunday! Time for six more sentences (...ish) in which, this time, I'll let yall simply guess at what this is an actual AU of. Its not difficult, but what can I say. I'm easily entertained. (And to all yall that tagged me already today — bless you, you're the only thing helping me keep track of the days at all).

There are three minutes until the show and he isn’t coming. He isn’t coming, and there are three minutes until Alex has to be inside, standing next to Pez and Marco, snapping his fingers and singing about going prowling for chicks, while somewhere in the night the man who owns his heart is barreling down open roads, roads that don’t lead to — “Oh my God Alex, isn’t that him?!” June’s voice cuts through his building panic like a hot knife through butter, and his eyes follow her finger to the far east side of the parking lot where Alex can just make out a shadow cutting through the beams of headlights, weaving in and out of the waiting line of traffic.  In less than a second, Alex is off the top step and plowing down the entrance of the school until he’s on flat ground, his leather jacket heavy on his shoulders in the lingering heat of the April day. He can hear him now, the rumble of the motorcycle snaking up through the bottom of Alex’s feet as the bike comes to rest at the curb, squeezed between two cars, headlights throwing blinding slices of light off the chrome of the bike, off the metal details that dot the black leather jacket stretched across the rider’s shoulders.  “You came,” Alex says, his voice thin as he struggles to catch his breath after his sprint down the stairs.  Without a word, the figure on the bike nods. “Told you I would."

I'll leave my tags under the cut, but as is USUALLY the case, I'm late enough in the day that most of yall have already gotten yours up! If you haven't, nows the time — consider this your open tag!

@cheesecurdsgravyandfries @orchidscript @everwitch-magiks @happiness-of-the-pursuit @indomitable-love @celaestis1 @cricketnationrise @rmd-writes @inexplicablymine @welcometololaland @kiwiana-writes @clottedcreamfudge @lilythesilly @sparklepocalypse @nontoxic-writes @tintagel-or-cockleshells @hgejfmw-hgejhsf

[drsteggy]

Work in Progress Wednesday

(Means whatever I think it does)

I think my AU Roulette pieces are going not be full fics, though they might get there eventually. Like I’m really having fun thinking about the Breath of the Wild Renaissance Faire.

I mean. Horses, am I right?

It is August, and it is hot. The humidity is high enough that sweat simply soaks into clothes and does nothing to cool.

“Easy, easy.” Link pats Epona’s neck as the big horse dances under him. She knows it’s showtime and she is eager to work. Sweat foams along her neck.

“And finally,” (someone) voice booms over the crowd. “Representing Kakariko, Sir Link the Brave.”

On cue, Link pushes his heels into Epona’s side, and she launches herself out into the dry, dusty arena. Her hooves pound the ground and she snorts with each stride. He gives the mare her head as they make a lap of the jousting field, asking for a halt when he reaches his corner. He stands in his stirrups and waves to the crowd who cheer in response.

“Show off.” Rev mutters, just loud enough for Link to hear. Link responds by sticking his tongue out. Rev just shakes his head, and reins Medoh in.

[shadowen]

Summary: Riz is very good at his job, and he looks good doing it.

A little Riz gen fic for @au-roulette. Less an AU and more one of many possible futures. Just love to see my favorite Goblin boy living his best life.

[radarsteddybear]

Title: “The Last of the POWs” Fandom: Hogan’s Heroes Rating: General Audiences Summary: [Post-Apocalyptic AU] A world in which both sides came up with the atom bomb before the war's end.

“The only thing we have left for sure is each other, and we’re not going to let you lose that, too.”

For @au-roulette. Crossposted to ff.net.

[panthera-dei]

AU Roulette Challenge 2024

Prompt: Reporters

Fandom: Supernatural

Story Title: "Blood, Sweat, and Typewriter Tears"

Characters (in order of appearance): Dean Winchester, Castiel, Sam Winchester, Crowley

Rating: G

No warnings apply

Gen fic

Mild swearing (more so than usual for my fics lol)

Story Link & Summary:

As the editor of the newspaper, Crowley sometimes thinks that his job is Hell. His employees - Dean, Sam, and Cas - find themselves inclined to agree.

[justsomeoneunordinary]

Vivid Dream (1410 words) by JustSomeoneUnordinary Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: Naruto Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings Relationships: Haruno Sakura/Hyuuga Hinata/Uchiha Sasuke/Uzumaki Naruto, Hyuuga Hinata/Uzumaki Naruto, Haruno Sakura/Hyuuga Hinata, Hyuuga Hinata/Uchiha Sasuke, Haruno Sakura/Uchiha Sasuke/Uzumaki Naruto Characters: Hyuuga Hinata, Uzumaki Naruto, Haruno Sakura, Uchiha Sasuke Additional Tags: Genderfluid Uzumaki Naruto, Polyamory, Established Haruno Sakura/Uchiha Sasuke/Uzumaki Naruto, Awkward Crush, Humor Series: Part 12 of Naruto Rare Pair Week 2023 Summary:

Hinata doesn’t know when exactly her crush on Naruto turned into a crush on all three members of team seven, but she knows one thing for sure: not even in her wildest dreams will she be part of their relationship.

At least, that’s what she believes.

—

Day 5 of @narutorarepairweek: AU Roulette – Eutopian

[woofgang69]

Title: Konoha University’s Unofficial Pet Sanctuary

Rating: T

Relationship: Huuga Hinata/Juugo

Tags: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - College/University, Strangers to Friends to Lovers, Getting Together, First Kiss, Pets

Summary:  Jugo had a habit of collecting strays, and a part of Hinata almost wanted to be a stray too, if only so she’d get to stay by Jugo’s side.

and 🔗: https://archiveofourown.org/works/48454780

Written for AU Roulette for @narutorarepairweek!!!

[quinloki]

QUIN PLS OMG I'm here for these au asks and I could use some kata thoughts in my life if you're down <3

katakuri with...maybe...fantasy or royalty au? my guilty pleasures >:3

>.>

<.<

-:- You are the personal knight to the prince of your land, and he's been tasked with a tremendously dangerous coming of age quest. The people of the court are against your prince, and in favor of his younger brother.

-:- Court politics aren't your concern however, your job is to protect your prince, and that means heading off with him and laying your life on the line to ensure that his quest is completed. Just because he's considered a half-son, his mother having passed, doesn't mean he's less qualified, but it does mean he has less support.

-:- The prince is capable and intelligent. You may be hard-pressed to consider him wise, but wisdom will come with age, for now you only need to do your best to see him get there.

However, trying to take down a dragon, especially an adult, will be difficult with just the two of you. No other knights were pressed into service by the King, and none would volunteer, for fear of the facing the Queen's wrath if they were successful.

After all, it would still be a few years before the King stepped down and handed over control of the kingdom to an heir, regardless of who it was.

Besides, returning victoriously with just the two of you would solidify far more power for your prince, than if you were successful with an entire regiment.

Of everything you had expected, you had NOT expected that the prince would befriend the dragon! You'd expected a terrible and bloody battle, and instead you were being treated to a meal and a delightful conversation.

Neither you nor the prince really wanted to go back to the kingdom, in all honesty, but then you had made a wild suggestion. One your prince accepted.

And so the two of you told the dragon of your predicament, about the kingdom, and the Queen. About how, instead of slaying an adult dragon, wouldn't it be a greater victory to return with a live one?

And so you returned to the capital, riding on the back of the great wyrm, your prince shouting from the beasts snout, assuring all that the dragon was his friend - his second knight, and eventually his advisor.

And so begins the story of The Unbreakable Knight, The Great Wyrm Katakuri, and The Wise King Maren.

Send me a character and an AU and I'll give you a treat.

[orangepanic]

New Fic: To the Brink

Written for AU Roulette 2023 prompt: Star Wars/Space Opera AU for the fandom Avatar: Legend of Korra

This is very short and silly and I'm so glad I participated.

[stierhai]

Every Caller Wins A Prize

I started writing this fic for the AU Roulette, but absolutely did not finish. If I do finish, I'll cross-post the finished thing to Ao3 and my dreamwidth.

Series: Ensemble Stars

Primary Characters: Yuuki Makoto, Sena Izumi

AU: Post-Apocalypse (shades of Lovecraftian/Cosmic Horror)

The bright of the decontamination chamber when Makoto enters the inner broadcast station is the closest thing he's seen to the sun in 146 days and counting-- and he thanks his lucky stars for that. It's bad enough, the disconcerting amount of fanletters he gets. It's one thing to know the world is ending, but it's another to read the ubiquitous trauma-dumps about how bad it's going, and yet another if he had to see it with his own eyes.

Hence radio.

And it's not just him. Radio was pretty much a dead medium, he'd thought, getting into it. But now, nope. Now he's got the ears of what's left of the nation. So much for a quiet way to step out of the spotlight, to letting his voice fade out into the AM station's white noise.

On the plus side, he's found he enjoys radio. And he doesn't really have to read his fanmail.

He steps out of the chamber, cool mist clinging to the plastic of his coat as he sheds it. He shakes it over the grate before he hangs it up in the much dimmer, inner hallway. Across the way, Nazuna is still wearing his and dripping on the linoleum, as he waves him a good morning. "Mako-chin! More letters for you! This one's real fancy, give it a whiff!" Nazuna bounds over and waves it beneath Makoto's nose, where the rare scent of mossy earth, fir, and cold water spills upwards from it— he sneezes.

"G-geeze, how do you have this much energy? It's still early, isn't it?" He wipes at his nose, chin to his chest and shoulder to his face as he fishes around in a pocket to double check that he's not late.

Nazuna baps him over the head with the letter, and then presses it under his arm while he takes out his own handkerchief. "Not that early," he says, though Makoto's phone affirms they've got an hour before the broadcast begins. "Here, go freshen up. I'll go put this with the rest of 'em on your desk."

"You're always so reliable, Nito-senpai…" He stops trying to wipe his face in his shirt and takes the offered handkerchief, cheeks going pink as he replaces his phone. "Sorry, I guess I'm still not awake yet. Thanks, I'll get it back to you after."

Nazuna grins up at him and tosses him a casual thumbs up. "No sweat!" And with that, he's jogging down the hallway, plastic coat still on and flinging droplets with each bounce.

Makoto looks down at Nazuna's handkerchief in his hands. Actually, he has his own. But he'd already failed to say anything so the sunflower fabric sits clean and dry, unused in the front flap of his messenger bag. In the washroom, he scrubs his face, scrolls instagram, leaves some likes, skims the news, and then finally wipes away the chlorine-and-disinfectant-scent from the water off his skin.

When he comes to his desk, true to his word, Nazuna has left the stack of letters on his desk with the offending perfumed letter proudly propped up on top. Someone's gone through a lot of effort. The perfume aside, the envelope paper is something heavy weight and crazy nice, a silvery medallion of stamped wax seals it shut, and what's probably an expensive blue ink has penned his name above the address with an overfamiliar nickname. Listeners hear Nazuna call him "Mako-chin" on the air and assume they've got every right to call him whatever they like, too.

Whispering, so Nazuna won't hear even if he chooses this moment to enter the room, Makoto says to himself, "Gross."

Honestly, he can live with Mako-chin. That's something they've heard, something he and Nazuna have let them in on. But sometimes he gets the feeling that all these letters aren't to him at all. Thank you for being there, they write, though he's never met them, not even the once. I'm having a hard time, and the details follow from there. You've done so much for me. Your voice, your kindness, your humor. What are they even talking about? Doubt mounts inside him that he's got any of those things, because the rest of the letter is bunk. He hasn't done anything. He just talks because it's all he can do. He's not cut out for the sunshine, and it increasingly feels like he's not cut out for the limelight either.

He'll have to find a way to put at least this one in the burnables pile without Nazuna noticing.

---

At first, Izumi had tuned into the radio just to help keep track of what day it was. He wasn't the socialite kind of influencer to begin with, so it's not like a little solitude was going to drive him nuts, or anything. Actually, it was nice not to have an idiot chattering in his ears all the time. It'd be totally counterproductive to turn on the radio for background noise, when he'd finally gotten the chance to not have some.

But there's something he can't quite put his finger on about one of the hosts that keeps him coming back.

He doesn't believe in fate. Still, the first time he'd tuned into the broadcast station the host was reading the daily horoscopes— "Taurus, the time between 4 pm and 5 pm will bring some favorable news on the personal front— h-hey, wait! That's now, isn't it?" A beat fuzzy with radio static brushes by as Izumi glances at his clock and sees that it is. The voice comes again too, the timing as if he's just finished the same check. "Ahaha, it really is. I guess I'll let you all know when I get some!"

So he's a Taurus. Izumi rolls his eyes at the hapless camaraderie the radio guy is projecting, playing at friends with his audience. Annoying. It sounds fake as hell. No one's actually that positive. The glance up is as good a reminder of that as anything. Music notes still cling to his unwashed walls, nearest the top where he'd missed them during his first pass scrubbing the room. Irritation flares up as he glares back down at the radio, like it's the one that put them there. Oblivious, the guy on the radio reads out Gemini's future, and then the rest as Izumi fetches cleaning supplies to deal with the rest of the grafitti.

"Next up is the weekly song request hour! Any genre, any artist! Old or new, we want to hear from you!" He laughs, like he can't keep a straight-face at reading the lame copy, before remembering something and breaking into a sidebar. "Oh— just keep it under ten minutes. Uhm, not that last time's prog-rock wasn't cool! But no more Flower Travellin Band for now. Or Mars Volta. Thirty-two minutes is kind of a lot…"

Who the hell lets people request that crap? It's so obvious the station's got trolls, if people are putting in for songs that waste half the run-time. No one with any sense would put up with it, Izumi thinks as he scrubs harder, the brush in his grasp furious with activity..

A phone ring punctuates the broadcast. "Hello and welcome to the radio request hour. You're live on the air, with me, your host: Yuuki Makoto."

"Hiya, Mako-kun." Greets the new voice. "I really owe ya a debt of gratitude, fer keepin' me company all the time. 'M basically livin' with the radio on."

"U-uh, really?" Like it actually catches him off guard. "Wow," Makoto says, like he's impressed anyone would do that, like he's considering how much time it is he spends on the air and that someone would listen to his job like it's their job, and finishes like faced with the huge reality of that he can still scarcely imagine it, "...that's a lot of listening."

"Ngahhh, is it? Didn't mean t'make y'nervous. I just thought Oshi-san over here might like the company, and I don't got too much goin' on in my head, so there's not too much t'say. You've really helped us out. It feels like we've really gotten t' know yah. ♪"

"Ehehe." Izumi can almost hear the blush, the embarrassed but slyly satisified grin sitting behind the mic. "Well, I try to be myself."

"Yer doin' a good job at it." The caller compliments, and then pauses. "Anyway, uh— nggah this'z off topic! Ehh, what was it again— can you do that Mozart guy?"

"—Hey!!" Makoto squawks, indignant. "I said nothing too long!" And then, a gasp, "So that's why you were buttering me up!"

"It wasn't nothin' like that, I swear! I don't have the brain cells for that, promise. It's just… oshi-san woulda like it, I think." A pause, and then after hesitation the voice continues. "Oshi-san doesn't really get up much anymore, not even t'yell when I really mess up. Not since stuff went real sideways. Still… I can't let him be, either. I remembered he liked classics an' stuff, so… mm, it'd be real nice. Mako-kun's voice is good company, but I thought he'd like the Mozart."

A few moments of silence, and then Makoto's voice chimes back in. "... I guess some of them aren't too long. Uhm, let me see here. . . Fugue in G minor? Eine Kleine Nachtmusik?"

"Oh, that last one's the happy one, ain't it? Let's go with that. Listen, Oshi-san, it's one've yer favorites! ♪ Let's give it a good listen together."

Warmly, Makoto agrees, "All right, Eine Kleine Nachtmusik. It's the happier one, too. Let's start the hour off right. Okay everyone, here's Mozart's A Little Night Music! Mozart, take it away."

Izumi's hands had gone still during the exchange, and his chest cold. Soapy water drips down the wall, as the bright allegro of strings alights from the radio speakers. Because he lives alone now, as surely as the caller on the other end of the broadcast does, no one turns it off. He's free to listen, without anyone rolling across the floor or declaring they hate Mozart. If Izumi wants to not hear it, he has to turn off the broadcast himself.

But on his own in the empty flat, the music just plays&mdash he never did understand why that idiot hated Mozart. But in that moment, he hates Mozart. In that moment, he feels like he understands.

So he tunes in daily, after that. ---

A sharp inhale ending in a soft khht-thunk delivers Makoto's mail down the pneumatic tube to his office in the underground bunker of the radio station. He groans and glares at the 2-way intercom on his desk. Of his two coworkers, he knows who to blame. Shinobu would have spirited them into his room without him noticing. This is a Nazuna move. Though Nazuna isn't really in the wrong. . . Makoto shouldn't have left them in a common area to begin with, at least not a working one.

He presses the button that connects to Nazuna and opens the conversation with an apology, sheepish. "Sorry… did I leave my mail in the broadcast room again?"

"Yup. Mako-chin, you can be a real airhead sometimes," Nazuna says, blasé.

"Well, if I'm honest about it…" He spins slowly in his desk chair, looking at the mail heaped at the bottom of the still-closed tube, and then back into place so Nazuna can hear the rest of his reply, "I don't really like them, so I try not to think about them too much."

"Mako-chin! Fans put a lot of effort into those!"

"I know. But still…"

"Still…? Hey, have creeps been after you? Mako-chin! If that happens you've gotta say something! I'll go right to the source and take care of them! I'll beat'r brains in, until it dribbles out dey— deir— their noses! 'Mgonn mudder 'em!"

Oh, Nazuna must be getting really worked up if he's fumbling his words. He can picture his face all red and going redder as he tries to get his mouth to work right, his little frame shaking with protective rage in the big high-backed gamer chair Makoto ordered him.

"No, uhm, it's nothing like that. I'm fi~ne. Really," he placates. "Ahaha, it's still, you know, a little weird for me. . . There's all this big stuff going on, and I just sit in here and read headlines and play music. I'm not doing anything special. The station could manage just fine without me."

"Mako-chin. . . No," Nazuna sounds sympathetic, but not enough to not rebuke Makoto for it. "No, without you, it'd just be the two of us running the whole station. Shinobun would die." That startles a laugh out of Makoto, as Nazuna continues. "So no more saying that. If you don't get why, you're not gonna figure it out without reading any. We can read them together, if you want!"

"Ah, no, I…" Nazuna's probably being nosy, wanting to make sure Makoto really doesn't have a stalker, but Makoto could think of fewer things more embarrassing than reading his fanmail with him. The thought of Nazuna seeing that he's causing all this fuss over a few empty compliments is humiliating. He sighs. "I'll read them by myself. Honest."

Nazuna hmms on the other side of the intercom. "If you say so. Stop leaving them around at least, Mako-chin. It's like you want me to scold you." And with that, Nazuna's end of the line goes dead before Makoto can respond.

Which is just as well, because he didn't have much to say to that.

Before the whole radio host thing, Makoto used to be a pretty high-profile speed runner. Game code buckled, sequences broke, and he shaved seconds off world records. He face revealed in a live-stream documentary— and then reality had folded like origami, the same way it did in his games. He doesn't have any stomach for glitches anymore, for going into the out of bounds and sliding straight through the edges of the world. He barely even likes seeing his face bounced back at him, the way he'd see it on off a retro cabinet's CRT screen.

The way he sees it now, looking at the plastic divider that seperates the booth where live musicians used to play, from the rest of the recording studio that's now his bedroom. In the reflected glare, his bright green eyes the same color as the newly fractured sun.

He inhales, and pulls up a lo-fi playlist to calm his nerves. Skin still crawling, he stands to retrieve his fan letters.

[v-thinks-on]

It’s dashed awkward showing up unannounced at some fellow’s door, and doubly so if you haven’t the slightest notion where and when you are. For reasons I dare not tell a soul lest I incur the wrath of my interminable Aunt Agatha across time and space, that’s the exact circ. old Bertie Wooster found himself in on this occasion; dithering on the doorstep of a mouldering castle while the wolves howled their nightly chorus—and I could have sworn they were closing in around me by the second.

I was busy letting I dare not wait upon I would like the cat in the adage, wherever that may be, when the great oaken door, smoothed by time, swung open as if on its own accord. I peeked into the musty darkness to find that it was in fact on the accord of a large, well dressed chappie, who I came to know as Jeeves. He welcomed me inside with an almost servile manner, but there was a brainy gleam in his inky black eyes and the darkness around him rather lay over him like a king’s raiment, it suited the chap so well.

(Read More If You Dare)

[glupblorbo]

logging onto tumblr to show y'all my new brainrot aka the "luz-and-hunter-go-on-a-road-trip-summer-after-their-senior-year-and-also-there's-mormon!belos" modern au and i say new as if this hasn't been rotting in my brain since the second i watched toh a fuckin year ago and was like "hey i relate to that nerd hunter a lil too much"

i'm finally only writing this now bc i got "college/academia" and "road trip" for 2/3 of my AU Roulette prompts and a couple things clicked into place after talking to a friend and BOOM. hunter gets more trauma :)

anyway. this fic has me by the throat and im unpacking a lot of shit so heed the tags on it lmfao but. im having SO much fun writing it too who knew therapy could be fun?

Summary is as follows:

Hunter Wittebane is well-versed in navigating the choppy waters of his uncle’s unsustainable emotions after 13 years—and now, he just has a few weeks left before he’ll be across the country at college and will only ever have to see his uncle twice a year. Except somehow, the thought of college is almost as terrifying as the thought of staying in the Deep South the rest of his life, closeted and giving much more than ten percent of himself each week. Thankfully, Luz suggests a few days on the road to help.

and yes it'll be part of a series bc i have SO MUCH LORE for this au lmfao

Snippet from the next third chapter below the cut (and a warning for mentioned abuse):

Luz shakes her head in frustration, cursing under her breath again, and he laughs. Half of this is all just a show for him; he’s well aware Luz can tell he’s still on edge about the trip in general and is doing her best to mitigate further stress for him. It’s the first time he’s been away from Uncle for so long—well, the first time he’s been away period, really—that wasn’t related to a church thing, and while church things make him freak out even more, he at least knows what to expect with them, and knows Uncle will be kinder in the aftermath, even if only for a day or so.

He has no clue how his uncle will react upon their return from this trip. And Hunter is all too familiar with what can happen—what will happen—if his uncle finds out the truth.

“Hey, you good?”

Luz is looking at him the way she always does when he shows up at Amity’s parking spot with a ziploc full of makeup and begs the both of them to help him figure out how he’s supposed to hide an hour-fresh bruise on his jaw when there’s five minutes until the bell. He’s never much liked that look.

“I’m fine,” he manages, rolling his shoulders back and trying to look relaxed.