#be free little plotbunnies be free!

[ryttu3k]

Posting a list of Astarion-related plotbunnies I'll probably never get to so I'm setting them loose upon the internet.

If you decide to write any of these please let me know, I'd love to read them <3

1) Cazador gets sick of waiting for Astarion, and also what fun is being the Vampire Ascendant if you don't have anyone to subjugate? As Dufay feared, he gets scarred and used in Astarion's place for the ritual, and Ascended Cazador shows up in the middle of a bright sunny day at the Elfsong to try and reclaim his errant spawn, easily overpowering basically everyone. Gale, who's in the midst of a sweet slowburn romance with Astarion, basically goes, okay, look, we're currently the only ones who have a hope to defeat the Netherbrain, and you won't be Vampire Ascendant for much longer if mind flayers take over Toril. Side with us against it, and we'll give you Astarion after.

He's lying through his teeth and is very quick to tell Astarion that as soon as Cazador leaves, because once he has the Crown of Karsus :) he'll be able to take Cazador out :) no problem :)

The real struggle isn't just fighting a desire for power, it's fighting against something that will permanently change him but also give him the best possible chance to save his lover, versus giving up that power and staying Gale Dekarios, not losing his identity, but also now having to fight the Vampire Ascendant without all that power...

2) Astarion stays in the Underdark to assist with the spawn, and ends up striking up a friendship with Gandrel, who wants Astarion's advice on how to raise his spawn daughters. Fluffy slow-burn romance with his former enemy ensues. Could tie in with this delightful epilogue detail.

3) Short version: Astarion tries to do A Scheme only it backfires due to the fact that he's starting to experience Emotions like 'self-worth'.

Longer version: Astarion sets out to deal with (read: seduce) Gortash - gives him Ketheric's stone, says the others have gone off to fight Orin and get [x] back, and it'll be easy enough to get Orin's stone from them once they've done the hard work, telling Gortash that the others lack ambition or have other plans. Lae'zel wants to give the Crown to Raphael to free Orpheus, Gale wants it for himself, etc. Only Astarion can see Gortash's point - that they can run the Absolute cult, they can use the stones. Gortash, Astarion, and a certain Bhaalspawn who Astarion is fairly certain would be amenable…

His actual plan is to seduce Gortash, kill him when he's not expecting it, and take the stone and return to the others, because he's good at seducing people for a purpose, so why not just do what he's best at? Except he's suddenly realising that, huh, he actually doesn't want to just… be used any more, he likes the person he's becoming with resist!Durge, and it all feels a bit… icky, now…

4) Astarion + trust issues + being touch-starved for non-intimate touch. Astarion gets some kind of back injury (thorns or little shards of glass or splinters or something, not something terribly lethal but just painful to deal with) and has to confide in someone (Halsin would be good here) and let them see and touch his scars to help get himself fixed up. Bit of whump, bit of hurt/comfort.

5) "Oh, I tried them all. None of them answered." Astarion has Issues with the gods. Gale catches him vandalising the Open Hand Temple / Stormshore Tabernacle, and they talk about gods and their fickle attentions.

6) Astarion can't swim. Karlach offers him and Shadowheart swimming lessons (and promptly goes heart-eyes a bit over her white-haired elven boyfriend and girlfriend).

7) AU where Ulder isn't a Complete Garbage Person who disowns his teenage son, and instead accepts and helps Wyll as much as he can. The Blade of Baldur's Gate instead focuses on helping his city, and it's time to do something about that creepy gothic monstrosity known as the Szarr Palace…

[oh-dameron]

AU where Wei Wuxian awakens after the soul sacrifice but not the Yiling Patriarch. Because Wei Wuxian died the first time he was thrown into the Burial Mounds and every shred of his demonic cultivation was due to his powers as a resentful ghost; powers he no longer has, you see, because now he's alive again.

[lucientelrunya]

The damn AU ideas...

So I watched the Ruby Red Trilogy with my mom, which is about people who have a time travel gene that randomly drags them to the past.

And now, of course, I want Ba Ye, who lives in the present, to have this gene and he has no idea and randomly gets dragged to the 1930s where he of course gets in trouble and gets safed by a certain military officer. And it keeps happening. Ba Ye falls in love (and Rishan, too, of course) and they get to know each other, but Ba Ye never tells him he is from the future (who would believe that?). And he gets so sad, because he only gets to be with Rishan for a few hours and of course thinks Rishan is long dead in his own time. Maybe he even looks up some military records and finds a death certificate. Which is of course faked because Rishan is still immortal, but back then he had no idea.

And of course somehow they meet in Ba Ye's own time in the end and get their happily ever after.

*sigh*

I just wanted to write the next chapter of Promise in the Dark, I really don't need any more ideas... Maybe setting it free like this will make it go away.

[dira333]

dira my darling!

can i request a fluffy plotbunny with bakugo? something with casual dominance, bc i would love to have someone boss me around. like,, he says sit and im sat? Im very bossy/pushy overall so a bf that's casually dominant and who i dont have to think around or help lead like i do everything else would be a dream come true xD

thank you for being so kind as to share your amazing pieces with us!!!!

*Pretending I have the time to write by eating my lunch in front of the computer* It's called Multi-Tasking

Also, I've had a hard time with this prompt because it feels like it's skirting along the line of suggestiveness, or is that just me being weird?

Going back in time...

"Stay," a voice whispers as you get up, warm lips pressed against the shell of your ear. "I'll get your drink."

"If only you'd listen to someone else like that," your best friend scoffs the moment you're seated again.

"Hah?" You ask, hackles rising.

"You know exactly what I'm referring to," Mina scoffs yet again, staring you down. Or at least, she's trying.

Your best friend of almost twenty years might just be as bossy as you are, but that doesn't mean you bow to her whims. Like she'd do it for you...

"What are we talking about?" Kirishima leans in, propping his head on his girlfriend's shoulder.

"How my best friend in the world does not listen to me." Mina points one pointy nail at you. "Especially considering I'm the one planning her surprise party."

"Please," you scoff, "like it could have been a surprise. You could never keep a secret from me. I'm just taking care of it."

"Bakugo!" Mina calls for the kitchen where your fiancé went seconds ago to get you another drink. "Help me here! Your fiancée's still trying to weasel her way into planning her own surprise party."

"Like hell, I'm helping you," Bakugo scoffs, looking down his nose at her. "And if my Baby doesn't trust your taste, I fully trust hers." He leans down to kiss you, pressing the glass into your hands.

"But I'm getting the flowers tomorrow."

"But-" You try to intervene but one look from him has you silent.

"See!" Mina asks Kirishima, pointing at the two of you. "One look and she shuts up. It never works when I do it."

"Yeah, but it's Bakugo," Kirishima offers like it's all the explanation needed.

-

"Do you ever listen to somebody?" Bakugo asks, raspy morning voice cutting through the Silence. You barely keep yourself from flinching, but the smirk on his lips tells you that he noticed. It seems he loves surprising you the most, mainly because you pride yourself in not getting surprised.

"I listen to a lot of people," you claim as you return to checking the Buffet table. You'd asked for Vegan Options and an egg-free dessert for the new secretary. Sweet-tooth, but highly allergic. It happens.

"You hear them," he says, "but you don't listen. Because I definitely heard Yukon tell you that he had the Buffet under control yet you're checking his work."

"And rightly so," you point out. "We're missing the egg-free dessert option."

"So?"

"So? I asked for it. He said he'd get it done. Do I have to do everything myself here? Apparently so."

"Sit down," he orders calmly, and you'd maybe wonder about his lack of temper had you not experienced him being like that around you for the last three years. Apparently, Bakugo turns into the chillest little prankster you could think of, but only around you. "I'll get it done."

You want to say something, but you decide against it. You've seen Bakugo deal with other stuff before, stuff that was definitely more important than getting an egg-free dessert for the new secretary. You know he can get this done.

"Fine," you huff, "But make it quick. I still need to go over the new recruits with you."

"Have I ever kept you waiting?" He asks as he turns away, leaving you flustered.

-

"Maybe we should appoint her for Class President," Sato offers quietly, but not quietly enough. "She's managed to talk Mina down in less than five seconds and it doesn't look like she takes shit from anyone."

"The title of Class President is-"

A loud boom interrupts whatever Iida has tried to say. When the smoke clears, there's only a small force field keeping Bakugo from strangling Kaminari, who looks a lot less frightened than anyone in his position should be.

"Calm down, will you?" You ask, looking down at Bakugo from where you're standing. Keeping up the force field is taking its toll, but you'd rather puke than admit to it. Not in front of Bakugo at least. "Aren't you better than that?"

Surprisingly, that seems to work. He calms down quickly, leaning back in his chair with a scoff. "True." He says, but his blood-red eyes don't leave you. It feels like a Challenge. One you're not sure you'll win.

[istadris]

Bend or Break

[ @akibouken you’re to blame for motivating me to finally write this plotbunny down with your cute Luigi petting art. Sorry about the angst, but know that I had your artstyle in mind while writing]

[EDIT] : now on AO3

[EDIT 2] now with a "sequel"

*

The human would not break.

Bowser knew it from his eyes. No matter how terrified, cowardly, vulnerable he was, trapped alone in a hostile land at the mercy of a powerful king, crushed in his grip, threatened of unending suffering, the human’s eyes still showed, buried beneath the fear and despair, a determination to not give anything about the other one. All Bowser had been able to obtain were accidental slips born from confusion and panic: that they knew each other, that they were brothers. Nothing else since.

He wouldn’t break.

So Bowser decided to switch tactics.

After leaving him to stew an appropriate amount of time in the jails, Bowser had the human brought again to the throne room.

This time his hands were free: what was the need to tie them up, when fear bound him more efficiently than shackles? It added another subtle layer of humiliation to the ordeal: to be considered so little a threat that restraining him would be useless. None of Bowser’s enemies would ever let him walk freely and unbound on their grounds if they had the opportunity.

Sitting on his throne, he took his time to observe his prisoner at the bottom of the stairs. He was cowering, darting nervous looks around him in a vain search for an escape. He had none of the defiance that some captives showed Bowser in the past: no glaring, no proud stature, no insolent spitting at his feet. Not even the courage to look at him.

“Come closer.”

The human didn’t move from his spot.

Bowser narrowed his eyes.

“I won’t ask again.”

The human relented, slowly climbing the steps toward the thrones, his hands clutched to his chest, his shoulders hunched, trembling more and more with each step, until he stopped on the last one, his eyes downcast and closed as if expecting to be torched on the spot if he breathed in the wrong direction.

Bowser huffed in amusement.

“Are you scared?”

“Y-y-you know the-the answer”, the human managed to stutter with a nervous laugh, “Of c-course I am.”

“More than usual?”

“Why-what do you m-mean?”

“That you’re a coward, and an easy target.” The human flinched at the harsh words but didn’t protest. “Everything about you screams that you’re used to being afraid. Easy to bully and push around, running and hiding at the first sign of danger, unable to defend yourself.”

It didn’t take a genius to guess any of that. He had met Toads braver than his man.

“Yet you stand up to me and refuse to yield. Why, I wonder…maybe because you’re also used to facing danger with someone by your side? Someone who protects you and keeps you safe.” From the way the human flinched as in caught red-handed, he got it spot on.

“You think he’ll come for you. Because he’s your brother.”

“M-Maybe. What would you know about f-family?” the human spat in the most aggressive tone Bowser had ever heard him use.

The prisoner didn’t know that in any other circumstances, Bowser would have torched him alive and ripped him apart limb from limb for such disrespect. Instead, he leaned forward with a low hum, not aggressive enough for a growl, but enough to make his prisoner yelp and cover his head in his arms.

Bowser let the silence weigh in the room for several seconds. After a moment, the human peeked out from behind his arms, and looked confusedly as Bowser sat back down in his throne.

“I have news about him. Your brother.”

It had the effect of a bob-omb on the captive: stunned, gaping, unwilling to believe it. It was enough to make him forget his fear for a moment, with something looking like relief daring to peek through.

“What-how…I thought-?”

“I have spies. Eyes and ears in every kingdom. Their reports take a bit of time to arrive though. I hoped you’d be faster to give me answers, but well.”

The human was burning to know more, he could see it, but afraid to ask. Afraid of what Bowser could ask in exchange, or of giving something away in his eagerness? It did not matter, as Bowser curled his claws to inspect them, as if disinterested by the matter, before talking again.

“They told me he is in the Mushroom Kingdom.”

“Mushroom …?”

“A quaint little place, far away from here. All green hills and mushroom fields, full of friendly faces, safe and soft. The kind of place you’re not in a hurry to leave. You’d love it.”

“How…” the human shut himself up, biting his lips for several seconds before finally asking in a quavering voice, “how …is he?”

Bowser held back from smirking as his prey took the bait.

“They told me he’s doing very well there, your brother. Has been there for…hm, about as long as you have been here. A month, by now? ”

“That long?!”

“He’s settled there quickly, from what I heard. He’s learning the local ways. Got himself a cosy place. Made friends all over the place, including the princess.”

“The…princess?”

“Who wouldn’t like her? She might be my enemy, but she's a delightful woman. Brave, clever, fascinating, beautiful to top it off...and from what I was told, she's sweet on him too. Not that he minds, on the contrary, he's always around her...I wonder when he'll finally come for you.”

He didn’t mention the reports of the red-clad human throwing himself from dawn to dusk over training courses to get stronger, no matter how many bones he would break in the process. Nor that the princess had to stop him by force from going alone in the wilds when he had grown desperate from impatience. He didn’t mention the rumours about the kind-hearted human obsessed with finding his missing brother to the point some worried about his sanity.

Instead, he took in the nervousness growing in his prisoner’s face; the growing questioning of what he had taken as granted. The shock of the realisation that help would not come. Because if his brother wasn’t held back, if he was free and in good health, why would he take so long? Bowser observed the expression of the man coming to the dreadful realisation that this time, he was truly alone.

“What…what if you’re lying? What says he’s even still…still okay?”

Bowser frowned outwardly at the accusation, but he was internally satisfied. His captive was now grasping at straws, clinging to a desperate hope that he had not been betrayed.

“Because if he was dead”, he stated calmly, “I wouldn’t need to concern myself about him anymore, and if I had captured him, I would brag about it for all to hear.” He narrowed his eyes, staring straight into the human’s gaze. “You might find it hard to believe, but everything I told you, since you first arrived in my walls, was the truth. Whether you like it or not.”

“I…I don’t believe you. He’s not like…like you said.”

The words would have been defiant if they weren’t said in such a small, wavering voice. He didn’t believe his own words.

Was there bad blood between the two humans right before their arrival? Or did he have doubts before, about the strength of their bond, but pushed down deep under denial and illusions? Had he feared to be abandoned before? This was a man who couldn’t bear to be alone, used as he was to a partner, a protector against the world’s fury.

He wanted, more than anything, to feel safe.

“Come closer.”

This time, the human obeyed right away, stepping forward as if in a daze, his haunted eyes fixed to the ground, until he was standing right in front of Bowser. One more step, and he would have stood between his legs.

“You asked me what I would know about family. More than you think, as I have one myself.”

The wide blue eyes looked up to him, surprise piercing through the anguish in them.

“…A family? You?”

“A son. My pride, my joy, my greatest treasure. I had to leave him in my capital for his safety during this conquest.” a melancholic smile escaped him as he thought of the last time he had seen Junior: his son had been so proud to show him his new spells and had insisted to come along with him. It had broken his heart to refuse, but he had been firm in his decision.

“If anyone” he raised his fist and clenched hard enough to break stone, “anything, dared to take him away from me, I would tear this world apart from earth to sky and burn it to the ground to find him. I would sunder entire kingdoms before allowing anyone to even slow me down."

He let the hidden question hang in the air. A simple, innocent question with an answer that terrified the human to his very core.

Would your brother even do the same?

Maybe he would have been certain of the answer before. But here, now, after what he had just heard? He couldn’t trust it anymore. He was lost, away from the stability of his life, with nothing solid to stand on.

His head held low, his eyes hidden by his hair, the human’s shoulders started shaking. A choked sob escaped him, then another, and he covered his face in his hands as he wept, gasping for air between his tears.

Bowser held out his hand and, gently, wrapped it around the human’s back before pulling him closer. The human flinched but didn’t try to move away as Bowser rubbed his hand up and down his back, shushing softly through the whole time. Comforting. Safe.

His fingers moved to the man’s head, combing through his hair with the utmost care. It seemed to help soothing the man, his shaking slowly growing fainter, as well as his sobs. Finally, with a final sniffle, he pulled away and wiped at his eyes, Bowser’s massive hand still curled around his tiny body.

For the first time, Bowser noticed the dark bags under the human’s eyes, his haggard features, the dirt and sweat and tears all over his skin and clothes. Bowser’s thumb, almost as big as his captive’s head, pressed against his cheek, stroking it slowly.

“You’re exhausted.”

The human leaned into the touch, eyes half closed, giving the smallest nod.

“Yes.” He breathed out, so softly Bowser could barely hear it.

“I’ll have you brought to a more comfortable cell.”

“Why would you even do that?” The human murmured, closing his eyes completely and letting out a long, weary sigh. “I’ll be dead soon, won’t I?”

“What makes you think so?”

“You kept me alive because you wanted info about my brother. Now your spies know probably more about him than I do. I’m past being useful.”

He sounded too calm about it. Exhausted, yes, but most of all resigned. Taking what little comfort he thought he had left before his end, as if his tears had washed away his will to live.

Bowser tilted his head. Carefully, his thumb pressed under the human’s chin, pushing it up until he was facing him, his eyes still closed. Waiting for the claw to sink into his throat.

“Look at me.”

He obeyed, opening empty, defeated eyes that stared blankly at the king.

“Why should your worth always be tied to your brother?”

The human blinked from the unexpected answer. Bowser only smiled softly and moved his fingers to the scalp of the captive, returning to a gentle stroking of the soft hair, which lulled the human into closing his eyes again, this time with a relaxed sigh.

“I can’t wait for you to meet my Junior. He’s a very bright lad, very curious. He’ll have so many questions about your kind.”

Then, with the most gentleness he was able to muster, Bowser finally pulled his hand away, and for a moment the human followed the movement, before opening his eyes suddenly and stopping himself, but not before the king noticed it.

“Now leave. Take some rest.”

This time, the human hesitated before moving.

He finally turned and descended the stairs. Slowly, almost reluctantly; a bone-tired exhaustion in his steps, but for the first time since his arrival, he had stopped shaking in fear.

Bowser rested his elbow on the throne and his head on his fist, following his prisoner’s movements with a satisfied smirk.

The human would not break, but soon he would bend.

[arzuera]

Who Wrote That?!

Hello! This is a Host and Player's guide on how to play 'Who Wrote That?!', a writing game for all ages! What is 'Who Wrote That?'? It's a game played with a minimum of 4 players or more. The players submit excerpts based on a prompt to the host and then have to guess who wrote what when the host releases them later. Whoever has the most points at the end is the winner!

Rules for Players

If there is one, please read the 'Do Not' list that any host gives you. This ensures that everyone has fun and no one is secluded because someone wrote something that triggered them.

2. Write an excerpt based on the prompt in the given timeframe. If you need an extension, ask the Host! More than likely, they will work with you. After all, the more the merrier.

3. Try to keep to the word limit, if there is one. Writing too much could out you just as much as writing too little. If you feel that your excerpt may be too long or too short, ask the Host if you may need to edit.

4. HAVE FUN! You can keep any writing that is too long and post it later or even continue the story if you wish! Odds are the plotbunnies will have made themselves home anyway :D

How to Host

Hosting is just as fun as playing! You get to read all the lovely juicy fun words and then see everyone gush and lament on the excerpts and their choices between submissions! The Host is the person/people who organize the rounds and keep track of the points. They also are the ones who post the excerpts for the players to read during guessing time and post the reveals round by round after voting is closed. It can seem daunting but it's a lot of fun!

There are two ways to play: A long game and a short game.

On average, a long game is considered a word limit of 1k or higher with a short game being about one paragraph or 300-400 words. Your game length will vary on the number of players and how long the excerpts are.

First, as the Host, pick or come up with a prompt. Try and find one or make it, open-ended so that the authors can really make the prompt their own! For example:

Danny gets trapped in a spellbook. He binds himself to whoever touches him next. The only way to release the bind is by either freeing Danny or doing so many things the book says (which the book is blank and Danny can control what is in it). Shenanigans

Also here is the Tumblr post source: Prompt Source

This is the first game we played! Its short but vague enough for the players to go off on their own interpretations.

Second, figure out the timeframe that works as best for you as it does with everyone else. Unfortunately due to timezones, you may not be able to have everyone online for the live voting or reveals. But that can be remedied a bit by giving time for people to be there.

A long game normally goes Tuesday-Friday for prompt submissions, Saturday is dedicated to voting, and Sunday will be the reveal!

Short games can do the same as above but maybe at hour intervals instead. 2-3 hours for submissions, an hour for voting, then reveal! Third, once you have your prompt and time frame, now it's time to let players know! Make a post or @ your friends so that they can play!

Fourth, collect all of the submissions in a Google doc and then organize the submissions by round order. That way you aren't digging for a prompt through Discord messages or google docs. It's all ready to go!

Fifth, when you have all of your submissions, it's time to make a Google form! Make an assessment and create as many questions as there are rounds with the players' names as the answers. Make sure to turn off 'shuffle option order'

Because this will move all the answers around and that is unnecessarily confusing.

Next go to settings and make it a quiz! But turn the other options off

Turning off missed questions, correct answers and point values makes it so the players don't see what they got after they submit their answers. They won't know until you reveal it all at the end! Now all you have to do is wait for voting time!

Sixth, Now it's time for the players to vote and they get to gush over what they are reading while chaos begins. Post the excerpts at hour intervals to give the players a chance to discuss among themselves. This is where they will try to throw the other off the scent of their work or try sus out the author. It's a lot of fun to watch :3

Lastly, reveals. Once voting is done, you can go into the Google form and see how everyone did! Calculate the points and figure out if you have a winner! When you have the points calculated, release the results of Who Wrote That one round at a time. Reveal who the author of that excerpt was along with who all got it right! Continue this by giving some time between results so the players can tease each other until all of the reveals are done and you announce the winner!

Congrats! You just hosted a game of Who Wrote That?! ! :3

Disclaimer: Google docs is mainly mentioned because most of the games have been running via co-hosting. With google docs, we can share the excerpts that both of us have gotten easily to one another. However, if you are hosting on your own, then any doc program should work just fine.

[darkshrimpemotions]

My 300th Fic on AO3

I've been on 299 fics published to AO3 for weeks now. At first I was like "299 fics? Wow! That's a lot. That's very cool. I should make my 300th fic something really special." But then I got in my head about it, and nothing seemed good enough.

Then a plotbunny grabbed me by the ears today and shook me like a stubborn ketchup bottle.

So here it is, my 300th fic on AO3. A shamelessly indulgent little one-shot that I wrote for the pure fun of it, like god and our foremothers intended.

Also. Happy Fingers In My Mouth Friday. <3

Read on AO3

Nandor rises from the table, feeling full and satisfied and...happy? At peace? It is a new feeling for him, a warmth that seems to radiate from his center outward, a song echoing in his heart for hours now. A song with one perfect lyric on repeat.

Guillermo.

Guillermo is a vampire. Immortal. Powerful. And he is going to stay with him...them. He is going to live in the mansion with them all as an equal. He will be the last thing Nandor sees each morning and the first thing he sees each night.

Of course...Nandor hasn't actually had that conversation with him yet. To ask him to set up a coffin in Nandor's crypt. The very thought makes him nervous. But Guillermo has always liked his room! So maybe he will jump at the chance to move in. Maybe Nandor won't have to go any deeper than the simple offer. Maybe--

Nandor frowns, his anxious thoughts coming to a halt as his eyes land on the very much still-unbitten man he incapacitated for Guillermo to feed from. Where is Guillermo? He scans the room.

There. Nandor's heart sinks, that warmth in his chest flickering, guttering like an overspent candle. Guillermo is hovering at the edge of the room, hands pressed anxiously to the front of his sweater, one atop the other, eyes darting around the room with uncertainty and a dawning horror that makes Nandor's stomach clench.

He was afraid of this. It's an old fear. It was born the day, some years ago now, when he realized he actually wouldn't mind Guillermo sticking around forever…because he knew from the moment he saw him that this sweet, soft-spoken creature was not meant to survive by the deaths of others. Not due to weakness, no. Nandor has always seen plenty of strength beneath the soft exterior Guillermo projects. But it takes more than strength to make one suited to be a vampire. It takes a ruthlessness, a selfishness that few truly possess. And if Guillermo was going to have a choice, like so many did not–like Nandor himself did not–he would rather Guillermo be ready for the brutal reality of this life than be simply forced to adapt to it.

He has watched Guillermo over all these years, waiting and hoping for a glimpse of some killer instinct, a hungry glint in his eye. Something which would prove Nandor wrong. Something to give him hope.

He thought he saw it a few times. When Guillermo killed Carol, Simon's strange crew member, Nandor should have felt horror. But all he could muster at the time was a giddy excitement. His sweet, timid little familiar...a vampire killer! And at the theatre, chained down with silver and helpless, Nandor had watched as Guillermo tore through the room like a cyclone, and all he thought was yes, yes, yes.

Finally, here was one who could stand at Nandor's side through the ages, face an eternity of death without flinching. The shiver that had run through him at the look in Guillermo’s eyes when his bloody work was finished disconnected Nandor's brain for a moment. He was practically vibrating with excitement the whole way home. He ran ahead to "inspect" the cage--truly what he did was weaken the bars in a few key places--and put on a stern face as the others brought Guillermo down to lock him in.

The look Guillermo had given him then was all indignation and betrayal, but Nandor stood easily beneath the weight of it, shoulders back and head held high. He knew Guillermo would break free in a few hours, and the first place he would come would be to his traitorous master. He would open Nandor's coffin with glorious murder in his eyes, and Nandor would be ready. Ready to fight him, ready to kneel at his feet in the end and offer him what he always wanted: for Nandor to turn him into a vampire.

But then Guillermo had not come for him. Instead, he sat docile in his cage, day and night, declaring that they were his family and he would never hurt them. Trying to prove his loyalty through suffering and perseverance. Nandor's heart had broken, because how could Guillermo hope to live by death if he wouldn't strike out for his own sake? To save his own life?

Whatever fluttering hope Nandor had held onto died completely when Guillermo submitted to hypnosis rather than fight those who would enthrall him...only to come roaring back to life months later when he brought Nandor to his knees with a single practiced move, hissing in his ear that he was immune to hypnosis. He could have killed them all at any time, Nandor had realized. He simply chose not to. That was a different level of power.

It was the kind of power Nandor had known, once upon a time. When you were truly the strongest person in the room, you could afford to be magnanimous to those around you. Perhaps you were even obligated to be merciful. Like a father to his helpless children, sparing the rod not because you can, but because you hold all the power and therefore you must. At last , Nandor had thought then. At last at last at last .

He had not fallen to his knees at Guillermo’s feet, though they were weak enough at the sight of him in the glow of his victory that it would not have been merely for show if Nandor had. He stood tall and looked Guillermo in the eyes instead, and offered him eternity.

Guillermo had accepted with a smile that burrowed beneath Nandor's ribcage, taking up residence there without his permission. But fate had other plans for them, and Nandor once more felt his hope die as he waited on an empty platform for a man who never came.

That was the end of it, he thought. No more resurrections.

But then Guillermo went and got himself turned by someone else.

Nandor had been furious at first. Murderously angry in a way he hadn't felt since he was human, with a beating heart and flowing blood and a ticking clock at the back of his consciousness, counting down his time left on earth. It was harder to summon that kind of rage as a vampire. Everything was muted, far away, when you had forever to feel each feeling.

But he’d felt this like a man with a finite number to his days. His hands itched to do violence, irrevocable, bloody, total. And if there was hurt, lurking somewhere behind that red wall of rage? Nandor wasn't willing to look for it.

But as the days went by and the anger cooled, the hurt made itself known anyway. And as hurt turned to acceptance, a part of Nandor couldn't help but wonder why he was so upset in the first place. Hadn't he waited for this? For incontrovertible proof that Guillermo was ready and willing to take what he wanted? Hadn't he searched for it, over and over, grieving each time it failed to manifest fully?

And now here it was! Guillermo had taken what he wanted at last, found the limit of his patience and his loyalty and his affection. That pained him, of course it did. Nandor had grown to depend on those things, perhaps even taken them for granted. But even as he sat in his feelings of hurt and betrayal and (quietly simmering now) anger, one fact stubbornly refused to remain unacknowledged: Guillermo had stayed.

He had gotten what he wanted, and Nandor had not been the one to give it to him. But he had still stayed by Nandor's side, even though he had no reason to be there any longer and would truthfully be safer somewhere far away. He had gone to the movies with him. Egged him on into going to space and then walked home with him at the end of the night. Slept under the same roof. Slept, Nandor had realized later, inside a gift Nandor had given him. Woken him up, brushed his hair, held his hand as he alighted from his coffin each evening. Even when his life had been in peril, the Baron stalking him intent on murder, had Guillermo fled then? No. He had run to Nandor. Well, to his room, anyway. Crawled into his coffin and left his warmth and his scent within to torment Nandor later. All that night, as Nandor held one of his sweaters like a security blanket and contemplated a world without Guillermo in it, as Nandor faced that world in the form of a corpse lying horribly still in his lap as he wept...Guillermo was hiding safely away in Nandor's most intimate, most private space.

And what does it mean, that they both clutched at something of the other when they needed comfort? Nandor is not stupid, whatever he might allow people to think. He’s been well aware of the way Guillermo looks at him all these years. Nandor has heard the way his heart skips beats and gallops ahead of itself sometimes, on the rare occasions when Nandor allows Guillermo close. He's felt the way his own heart lurches in response, valiantly trying to beat again in answer to Guillermo’s unspoken want.

He knows why Guillermo stayed until he could not, why he withdrew the stake from Nandor's throat when Nandor stood there, ready to die. He knows how Guillermo, who was not even a full-fledged vampire yet, managed to instinctively hypnotize his own mother when she threatened Nandor's undefended back.

It isn't only in fairytales that love can create magic.

Love. He dared not to think of it before, but tonight? When Guillermo’s eyes flashed gold and his canines grew long and sharp between his lips? When he looked at Nandor with pure joy on his face, literally weightless with happiness and levitating three feet off the ground?

Nandor let himself feel it, finally. Love. Hope. Cautious joy. Guillermo was a vampire, and he was so excited. And he was powerful. Nandor couldn't believe how powerful he was within mere seconds of his transition. No fear. No horror. No need to teach him all the little things he could do now. He did them naturally, like he was made for this life.

This life with Nandor. By his side. Forever.

But all of that is crumbling in his mind's eye now as he watches Guillermo fret and flinch on the sidelines of the party he asked for, the life he asked for. Gone is his excitement. Gone is his simple, uncomplicated joy. The specter of an eternity without Guillermo looms in Nandor’s periphery once more, huge and dark and empty. Nandor won’t…no, he can't go back there.

There is a way, of course. Something he learned when he first realized he would turn Guillermo, if only Guillermo were ever to be truly ready. The intricacies of the bond between a sire and their sireling are fascinating, truly. Not quite the simple life-and-death ultimatum he and his friends once thought. They open a path forward now, a way to give Guillermo another chance. A do-over. And oh, Nandor would enjoy at least part of it. He might have forgiven Guillermo, but he will never forgive the vampire who sired him instead of Nandor. Watching Guillermo drive a stake through that vampire's heart would be healing in a way, even as it killed a dream Nandor has only just allowed himself to want.

But he has held Guillermo’s cold, gray corpse in his arms. He has felt the desolation of a world where Guillermo no longer exists, albeit briefly. He cannot do it again. Not now, not decades from now. Never. He would rather walk into the sun. He probably will, if that day ever comes to pass.

So he does what he can live with instead. Crossing the room in a few long strides, Nandor backs Guillermo into the restaurant wall, pinning him there with his body and smothering the man's yelp of surprise with his own still-bloody mouth.

The way Guillermo melts into him immediately is beautiful, intoxicating. It surprises a groan out of Nandor that vibrates through the lips on his to echo in Guillermo’s chest, a feedback loop of desire and a relief so sharp it's almost painful. Guillermo is clutching at him with both hands, pulling him closer, and it's almost enough to make Nandor forget why he came over here in the first place.

Almost.

He draws back from their kiss with a reluctant sigh and can't help but smile at the little whine of protest from Guillermo’s throat, the way he tries to chase Nandor's lips with his own. Nandor holds him back, admiring his wide eyes and disheveled hair, the way the blood from Nandor's lips is now smeared across Guillermo’s own.

"My beautiful little creature of the night," Nandor purrs. "You are having trouble with the feeding." It isn't a question, and Guillermo ducks his head in shame.

"I..." his voice chokes off. Nandor can't have that, his Guillermo crying. He tilts that chin up with one hand, forcing Guillermo to meet his eyes.

"It is okay, Guillermo," he reassures him, soft and sincere in a way he rarely allows himself to be. "It can be difficult at first. Come with me. I will fix."

Guillermo shakes his head, but he doesn't resist when Nandor pulls him across the room, back to where the man Nandor selected for him is still slumped over, unconscious.

"Now," Nandor says, his hands steady on Guillermo’s shoulders. "Tell me what stops you."

"I..." Guillermo is tense under Nandor's touch, but he doesn’t pull away. "It's just...I lean in, and I smell his blood, but...over that, there's...other stuff."

"Mmm," Nandor hums, thoughtful. "And this other stuff...it stops you? It smells bad, or--"

"His shampoo," Guillermo interrupts, barely above a whisper. "I smell his shampoo and I think, this guy was just at CVS, browsing for shampoo, and maybe he picked this one because the smell reminds him of camping as a kid, and I can't...that's just a person , Nandor. I can't kill him."

Nandor's hands clench involuntarily on Guillermo’s shoulders as his heart sinks further. This. This is what he was afraid of. His worst fears are being realized.

But he can fix it. He can still fix it. He leans more heavily into Guillermo’s back, ducking down so his lips are right next to Guillermo’s ear.

"And all the vampires you've killed? Did they not have memories, and lives, and...shampoo? That did not stop you." If his voice is a little harsh, it can't be helped. "And what of all the victims you lured to our home over the years? Were they not people? Did they not also use the shampoo?"

"That's different," Guillermo almost sighs, leaning into Nandor even as he sounds like he wants to cry again.

"How is it different?" Nandor demands.

"I did all of that for you," Guillermo says.

And Nandor....well.

What does Nandor even say to that?

He spins Guillermo around, holding him by the arms and searching his eyes. They're shining with tears of shame and regret, but they meet Nandor's and hold there.

"It's so easy," Guillermo breathes. "To turn off everything else. The guilt, the fear. Regret. All of it. It's so fucking easy when I'm doing it for you."

If Nandor's heart still beat, it would break free of his chest at those words.

"And what of you?” he asks. “Why are you not reason enough?" Guillermo just looks at him, stricken. He has no answer.

"Fine," Nandor says at last. He guides Guillermo to one of the empty seats at the small table, and settles himself into another.

"I will do this for you," Nandor says. "And you? Will do it for me."

"What--" Guillermo starts to ask, but his question dies as Nandor leans in and pierces the throat of the unfortunate man with the awful shampoo.

It is a very well-placed bite, if Nandor does say so himself. Right on the front of the neck--a difficult spot to get to!--and not so deep as to cause a giant mess. The blood wells slowly from the shallow punctures, pooling in the hollow of the dying man's throat. Nandor must have hit him quite hard over the head, because he doesn't stir, not even when his breathing takes on a slightly wet, gurgling quality.

Guillermo stares at the man with mingled horror and pity, and Nandor can't have that. He cannot let Guillermo get lost in the reality of this meaningless human’s fate. He takes Guillermo’s chin in one hand, pulling his gaze back where it belongs. With the other, he dips two fingers in the growing pool of rich, red blood.

"Open your mouth," he orders. Guillermo's eyes go wide, but somewhat to Nandor's surprise, he does as he's told without hesitation.

Nandor slips his bloody fingers between Guillermo’s lips, bracing himself for Guillermo to fight him, to pull away. He doesn’t. He stays still, letting Nandor do what he wants, his eyes never wavering from Nandor’s own.

Nandor sees the moment when the taste hits his tongue.

"Mmmf," Guillermo manages, his lips closing instinctively as he sucks and licks the blood from Nandor's fingers. The little moan of contentment he lets out is more felt than heard.

Nandor is transfixed. He has never seen Guillermo like this, but his mind readily supplies other scenarios where Guillermo might look up at him thus. He feels dizzy. If he needed to breathe he’d be in real trouble, because he is pretty sure he’s forgotten how.

Nandor withdraws reluctantly at last only to coat his fingers in more blood--the pool now overflowing to drip sluggishly down the man's neck and onto the table. He brings his fingers back to Guillermo's lips and can't hold in a little moan of his own at the way Guillermo eagerly takes them in, looking up at Nandor from under his eyelashes as he accepts this offering, his hands coming up to hold Nandor's hand in place by the wrist. His mouth is warm and wet, his tongue gentle and clever as it circles Nandor's fingers, chasing the taste of blood. His teeth graze Nandor's knuckles as he sucks, hard, and Nandor thinks he might die right there. Crumble to dust with his hand trapped in the mouth of his only natural predator. He wishes he could fit all of himself inside that mouth, hide there in the darkness, surrounded by Guillermo, consumed by him.

This was only meant to feed Guillermo, to help get him past the worst of this unfortunate eleventh-hour respect for human life, but it is quickly morphing into something entirely out of Nandor's control. He's half-hard already, after barely more than a minute of watching Guillermo take in his fingers with his mouth like he's just been waiting to do it, waiting for Nandor to offer. His expression as he savors the blood Nandor is feeding him is beatific, practically glowing. Nandor himself might be having a religious experience for the first time in seven hundred years.

He withdraws again for more blood, watching the emotions play across Guillermo’s pretty face as he does so. He feels dizzy, aching with want for the man sitting so close to him. Especially when Guillermo pauses to kiss the tips of his blood-covered fingers before taking them in again, slowly this time, savoring.

"Guillermo," Nandor manages to choke out. When did he lose control of this situation? Did he ever have it to begin with? "Please." He doesn't even know what he's begging for.

But Guillermo must know, because he releases Nandor's fingers with an obscene, wet pop before abandoning his chair to crawl into Nandor's lap. The chair groans beneath their combined weight, but Nandor barely notices. He's too busy getting his hands underneath all those frustrating layers Guillermo wears, too busy tasting the blood on his tongue, too busy reeling from the heady feeling of being at Guillermo’s mercy, body and whatever passes for a vampire's soul.

The corpse next to them--the man is certainly dead now, his gurgling breaths having ceased all together--is cooling, all that remaining blood going to waste. But neither of them notice, far too caught up in the taste, smell, and feel of each other, and the memory they're making.

Someday, Nandor thinks hazily as Guillermo undoes the fastenings holding his robe together with practiced movements, we will look back on this and laugh. Someday far, far in the future .

And if Nandor has to feed Guillermo like this for all that time? So be it.

[csilla-nocturne]

Posting older ideas here

So I've mainly been doing fandom stuff on twitter for a long time, but as twitter is going through a slow death spiral I'm trying to get back into posting stuff here. I thought a good way to do that would be to posting some of my older, shorter story ideas/plotbunnies from twitter here. This isn't gonna be an every day thing. Like 90% of what I have now is TGCF, with a teeny bit of MDZS, and I don't want to just sit here and flood the tags.

I come up with a lot of ideas I never get around to doing anything with. So if anyone sees something they like feel free to give it a spin! Please send me link too!

I'm gonna start with what I think is one of my older(Really not sure I have everything bookmarked in my browser's bookmarks, and saved to a word perfect file on my PC. It's all pretty out of order, and twitter has made it pretty much impossible to go through make sure I even have everything at this point.) AU ideas after I got into TGCF!:

AU where Ruoye recognizes Hua Cheng as Wu Ming when he comes to guide Xie Lian from the sedan. Ruoye is all like ":D FRIEND!" but also knows they are doing something important, so instead of the full wrap around hug it wants to do, it wraps around one of Hua Chen'g's vambraces. Hua Cheng doesn't notice because Dainxia is right there after 800 years! When they get to the Ming Guang shrine Xie Lian tries to use Ruoye only to discover its already gotten a hold of Hua Cheng with no intentions of letting go.

OK here is where I speculate Ruoye can possibly keep Hua Cheng from doing the butterfly thing for at least a little bit, since it was able to restrain Xuan Ji and keep her from turning into smoke. Realizing Hua Cheng is trying to leave Ruoye is all what? NO! and now everything is awkward for everyone.

[lurafita]

Random Malec AU plotbunny

In 'inspired by the Assassins Creed Valhalla trailer, with a little bit of fantasy' kinda AU circumstances,

Alec, a proper english King, would get word of the vikings that have just laid claim to the Morgenstern Kingdom, slain the King Valentine (who Alec hadn't particularly liked, but who had ruled the kingdom for over a decade)

The report would say that Valentine's grieving wife had been given to one of the viking men to do with as they please. And the daughter to another.

The tales of the vikings' savagery is well known through the lands, so King Alexander decides to lend the besieged Kingdom a hand. And packs up some of his best knights, to travel over incognito, and get an idea of the best way to attack and take back the kingdom and free poor Queen Jocelyn.

Except, when they get to the former Morgenstern kingdom, people there seem pretty happy and relaxed all around. The Queen and her daughter, the princess Clarissa, are wandering the market with smiles on their faces accompanied by a tall man by the name of Lucien(Luke), who seems completely besotted with them caters to their every whim;

and the viking leader, who Alec had assumed he would find lounging on the castle's throne, sipping wine and ordering bloody fights between the people under his rule for his amusement, is apparently busy constructing a public library with his crew and the townsfolk.

Alec and co decide to stay incognito for a few more days, to make sure it's not some kind of ruse. The more Alec learns about how these vikings really are, the more he falls for their leader, Magnus Bane.

[asukaskerian]

bleh

real life is slowly smothering me with mehs.

i just.. work, and then get home, and i don’t wanna sit in front of a computer again after spending the day there so i don’t write and i don’t talk to people.

instead i get on my bed with the smaller internet on my phone and zone out on bingeing fic i’ll barely remember the next day, and then surprise! gotta sleep and go back to work again.

i feel like i’ve been doing nothing else for the last, oh, six months? two years? idk. i feel lonely (my fault since i have energy to maintain, like, one friendship and a half atm) and i feel bored and boring and uninspired, my plotbunnies are dying off and my procrastination issues are just getting worse and worse and, just, mneh.

you’d think “it’s the fault of the job” but when i didn’t have a job i only wrote a little more even if i had nine more free hours a day and had a lot more uselessness woes and shitty sleep schedule problems, and also, money is nice. but it still fucking sucks.

[battlekilt]

(By default, my questions will be answered using my SW AO3 account.)

1.) How many works do you have on ao3?

Technically, I have three. In actuality, I have two. One of them is the "E" content from another.

2.) What’s your ao3 word count?

141,563

3.) What fandoms do you write for?

One.

4.) What are your top five fics by kudos?

The two that are posted.

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

Yes, I do respond. Because I like engagement. I like being engaged, I like engaging with engaging readers.

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

None. Though, Aay'han has the angstiest beginning since it goes into Order 66.

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

Nightmare for Others, Dream for the Self has the happiest ending. Aay'han is incomplete ATM.

8.) Do you get hate on fics?

No. I've gotten a lot of "Oh, I'll read if you write Cody-wan." Which is rude. There's no other ship offered as a conditional modifier.

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

The kind that my stories and character call for. Smut writing is rather labor intensive, so it isn't something I invest in unless it is particularly called for to show the reader something. Otherwise, I just... don't have it so far.

10.) Do you write cross overs? What’s the craziest one you’ve written?

I do not have any Star Wars crossovers. I do have a lingering plotbunny that comes to visit for a crossover with Transformers and Star Wars.

11.) Have you ever had a fic stolen?

Nope.

12.) Have you ever had a fic translated?

No.

13.) Have you ever cowritten a fic before?

There's been a few times when it was discussed. But, inevitability, my controlling nature of the narrative comes through, and I just... don't really let go. It has always worked out for the best because the other person has always been too busy.

14.) What’s your all-time favourite ship?

In Star Wars? It depends on which way the wind blows. But, right now, Rexwalker reigns supreme. I have a nigging Rex/Padme idea that takes place during the Empire and both are sort of Vader's gilded birds.

15.) What’s a WIP you’d like to finish, but doubt you ever will?

If I have doubts that I'll ever finish, then it isn't a WIP; it is just unfinished. A piece has to have a good chance of being completed for me to consider it a Work In Progress. It is why I don't take on many AUs that actually get a scrivener document made. I've learned that I don't like a project being interrupted. I just don't bounce around very well.

16.) What are your writing strengths?

Complex layers, dialogue, descriptors, characterization... Not to be taken as arrogant, just confident, I'm a pretty strong storyteller.

16.) What are your writing weaknesses?

Grammar. Flagrant coma abuse.

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

Avoid at all costs.

18.) First fandom you wrote for?

A little bitty anime called The Slayers.

19.) Favourite fic you’ve ever written?

The one I'm working on right now.

I was tagged by @insertmeaningfulusername. Because of my neuropathy, I'm going to leave it up to people to feel free to jump in if they want.

[peterlorres21stcentury]

the file is called "plotbunnies"

I wish I could somehow transcend human limitation and write ALL of my story ideas at once, with perfect clarity and within a year or so. Barring my unexpected evolution into the next stage of cosmic existence or something, I want to share all the plot ideas from my notes file, which seems to expand the more I look at it (spoiler, every one of them involves Peter Lorre because I seem to have devoted my whole creative life to him; I don't make the rules)

Category 1: stray ideas for stories that don't fit into any particular established universe:

a tale of the wild west, starring Peter as a morally gray, but goodhearted gunslinger, cowboy, and all-around ladies' man (and some of the gentlemen too)

Peter as impoverished violinist living in Vienna. I do not have a specific plot for him yet but I'm kind of thinking of a continuation of "Kitten on the Keys" where Laszlo and Betty visit post-war Europe and run into Laszlo's shy brother playing violin in a destroyed corner of the city, after failing to become a music teacher like he wanted... this is literally just a mental image left over from a long-ago unfinished story and I have no idea where it goes from here. What do you think, yea or nay?

One last little goodbye coda to my OG characters Leo and Tanya Becker, as they enjoy the post-war life and relative calm while raising a family in Washington, DC.

...I lied, one day I also want to write something about the Becker kids after they grow up.

Category 2: TORG. Oh I have so many ideas for the little cannibal:

Georg escapes a cruel mental institution only to join an even more abusive traveling carnival through central Europe in 1910

Torg in the Fallout universe, eating his way through the wasteland and surviving mad science experiments

My notes include this joke title which riffs on an actual play: "The Inexplicable Rise of Georgio Ui." This makes no sense but I thought it was funny. The actual story idea is more serious, as it involves a Holocaust survivor relating her experiences to a historian, and she tells the unbelievable tale of one fellow prisoner who set them all free by devouring the place whole. Includes a Twilight Zone-esque twist that I will not reveal here, yet. :3

Category 3: Actual fanfic ideas expanding on Peter's real movies. These ideas are free for any other writer out there who wants to tackle it because omg do you see all those ideas above, I don't know how or even if I will get to these:

The Constant Nymph. Fritz Bercovy got a raw deal in the book AND the film, and I want him to get as far away from the unappreciative, racist and rude Sanger family as possible. Instead let him have some refined and sexy adventures around the world as he splashes the cash on a more deserving woman, for a change.

The Island of Doomed Men. Something that really leans into the whole BDSM theme that was toned down in the original film but was quite obvious anyway. Lots of whipping and barely-repressed emotion and fucked-up relationships and yeah :3

Andre and Polo of "I Was An Adventuress" need their own adorably kleptomaniacal comedy series, pronto.

The Face Behind the Mask. Janos deserves a second chance! An alternate version where he was still burned, but some soft-hearted employer decides to give him a job. His hardships aren't over, but at least he doesn't have to turn to a life of crime and maybe even Maria can join him like he wanted (but does she still want him??)

[darkmatter-nebula]

Good morning, my dear fellas! 👋😊

Get ready for a freshly baked "Lost But Now Found" AU One-Shot. This one contains angst. I had to get this Plotbunny out of my head. Here I go!

One-Shot: Shot Through The Heart

It was a quiet day in Gravesfield. Unfortunately, it wasn't meant to stay quiet. Hunter got kidnapped! A certain small starboy who had a heart of gold and otherworldly fluffy lavender hair didn't hesitate to come to his big brother's rescue.

"Listen up, you little brat! Move a muscle, and your big brother is as good as dead!" The kidnapper said as he pointed his gun at the young Grimwalker's direction. "I'm not going to let you hurt him!" Colli used his magic to immobilize the criminal.

To Colli's horror, the man somehow managed to break free from the spell and was about to shoot the former Golden Guard... only for Colli to take the bullet for his beloved big brother. "NO!" Hunter felt an immense amount of rage building up inside of him.

The blonde boy broke free from his bindings and charged at the kidnapper. "How dare you... HOW DARE YOU?!" Hunter gave the kidnapper the beating of his lifetime, until the police arrived moments later.

The criminal was arrested. "Oh, shit! There is a badly injured little boy!" The police officer was confused about Colli's dark blue blood, but he immediately called an ambulance. Thanks to his immortality, Colli was still alive.

Unfortunately, the bullet was still in the eternal child's heart, which slowed down his natural regeneration. Hunter knelt down and took his beloved little brother's small hand. "Everything is going to be alright, Sunshine!"

Hunter had tears in his eyes. He knew that his beautiful little Sunshine couldn't die, but it still hurt to see him suffer. "H-hunter..." Colli, who was barely consious, whispered weakly. A few minutes later, the ambulance arrived.

The bullet had to be removed surgically. Hunter was anxious as he waited for the surgery to be finished. Hunter already informed the rest of the family. "As soon as I see the culprit, I'm going to kill him for hurting my precious Little Star!" Eda broke the silence.

Camila, Darius and Raine wholeheartly agreed with the Owl Lady. Absolutely no one was allowed to harm a single hair on their son's head! Hunter, Luz, King and Vee had the same opinion. Their little brother didn't deserve to be shot!

To everyone's relief, a doctor told Colli's family that the sweethearted celestial boy would recover in no time. "Can we see him?" Hunter asked. The young Grimwalker needed to see his little brother! "Of course! But be quiet, please. He is still asleep." The doctor said softly.

"Little Star..." "Little Cherub..." "Stardust..." "Little Songbird..." Colli's parents whispered. Their beloved son looked so small and fragile in that large hospital bed. Hunter approached the bed and caressed with infinite tenderness Colli's freckled cheek. He leaned down and pressed a featherlight kiss on Colli's forehead.

His big brother's soft touch was enough to wake him up. "You are alright! I'm so glad." Colli had a smile on his adorable multi-colored face. The starboy had to stay for two more days in the hospital. Upon removing the bandage from Colli's chest, the doctor was surprised to see the wound fully healed.

As soon as Colli was home again, he was pulled into a tight yet soft group hug by his family. Hunter's protectiveness towards his beloved little brother increased even more. "Do that never again!" Hunter said as he cuddled Colli close to his chest.

The End

[wuxiaphoenix]

Plotbunny For Hire: Fantastic Mercenaries

Ten years ago, a crack archer unit was sent to the gallows by the Sheriff of Nottingham for a crime they didn’t commit. These men promptly escaped from a maximum security castle to the Sherwood Forest underground. Today, still wanted by the monarchy, they survive as bandits of fortune.

If you have a problem, if no one else can help you, and if you can find them... then maybe you can hire - The Merry Men.

(Multiple thuds of arrows across the screen.)

Featuring:

Robin Hood: Mastermind and leader of the Merry Men, Master of Disguise, and possibly the best archer in the world. (Picture a guy sometimes in Lincoln green of a forester, others in everything from a mendicant’s rags to a monk’s rope-belted robes to raising a knight’s visor to reveal his grin.)

Will Scarlet: Expert swordsman, snappy dresser, and con artist. (All the clothes, all the lovely clothes, fast horses, used-armor-salesmen, and so many fast-talked people.)

Little John: Huge quarterstaff expert. Possibly also a blacksmith, who Makes Useful Things for the latest escapade. (Lots of flying sparks, lots of bellows action, lots of fanservice for the ladies when all those muscles flex. This is the guy people walk in on, think he’s not that tough... and then he stands up. And up....)

Friar Tuck: Slightly addled priest who’s no slouch with a quarterstaff himself, prone to engaging in battles of wits with unarmed men, and known to be an expert in things that fly over the ground. Hounds, hawks - and possibly more if you want to throw in some fantasy/wuxia-style inventor elements. (I.e. if you want to do DaVinci’s flying machine, this is your guy.)

Maid Marian: Likely to be in the background anywhere, picking up rumors of trouble to stomp, people who need help, and traps from the Sheriff and Guy of Gisbourne. Not a bad archer herself, which the bad guys never seem to expect, and also a fair hand at disguise. She has a quill pen, she has paper, she has the ears of the local criers, and she’s not afraid to use them.

And up to seven score Merry Men.

(Think of a fantastic take on The A-Team. Robin - Hannibal. Will - Face. Little John - B.A. Friar Tuck - H.M. Murdock. Maid Marian - Amy.)

Heck, if there’s any magic in the setting, you could even get in the same quotient of things going boom....

Ahem. Plotbunny, free to good home! Have fun!

[dira333]

Loving you all week - Asahi x Reader

Plotbunny Entry by @screamin-abt-haikyuu - prompts in cursive -

Haikyu tag @lees-chaotic-brain

Sunday mornings

"Stop being so pretty, it hurts," you whine, shielding your eyes from his sight as if he were the sun.

When you squint through your hands, you can see him blush furiously, failing at hiding a flustered smile. "You're just saying that," he whispers, unable to get out more when you rush to clamp your arms around him like you're an octopus and he's your prey.

"No, not ever, never, I'm meaning what I'm saying, you hear me!" You tell him with vigor, pressing tiny fluttering kisses wherever you can reach, which consists mainly of his neck and shoulders.

He's laughing now, ticklish that he is.

"It's too early in the morning for this," he claims, swaying you left to right, "my hair's a mess and I stink."

"The heart wants what the heart wants," you tell him sincerely, fluttering your eyelashes up at him. "Kisses?"

-

Friday nights

"He's going to break up with me, I know it," you claim, sucking loudly on your straw.

Your friend sighs in exasperation. "No, he won't."

"He will."

"He won't."

"You don't know that."

“The guy looks at you like you hold the galaxy in the palm of your hand and you think he doesn’t love you?”

"He told me half an hour ago!" You tell her, putting your empty drink down with more force than necessary and turning to speak to the accused directly. "Tell her, Asahi!"

Asahi sighs. "All I asked is for you not to cuddle me while I'm in the toilet."

"See?" You turn back to your friend. "He hates me."

"Ooookay," your friend pulls a face, "No more drinks for you!"

-

Thursday Dinners

"You want me to shout from the rooftops? Because damn it, I will."

"I don't think the people would appreciate it," Asahi points out softly, one large hand swallowing yours as you pull him down the sidewalk. "But I appreciate the gesture."

"But! But!" You gesture wildly with your free hand. "Everyone should know!"

You turn just in time to see him blush.

"What?" You stop abruptly, both your tirade and you're quick pace. "What is it, honey?"

The red on his cheeks intensifies. He's a sucker for pet names, you've realized early on.

"I'm just... I... It means a lot to me that you're so proud of our relationship."

"Of course, I'm proud of our relationship!" You step closer, move to cradle his cheek in your free hand. "I still can't believe I managed to rizz you up."

He laughs now, cheeks still flushed. "You sound like Sugawara. And I- I mean, I should-"

"Nuhuh," you cut him off, already guessing where this is going to go. "You're the catch here, not me. I bagged the rich Fashion Designer Husband."

"Not rich," he points out and you shrug. "I don't care about money anyway. But seriously, forget that nasty woman. You don't look that old. And even if, I'd love for you to be my Sugar Daddy."

"Don't say it like that," he groans, pulling you close. "That makes me sound so lewd."

"Worse than her calling you my literal Dad?" You joke, your earlier anger almost forgotten.

Asahi tickles you in retaliation.

-

Tuesday Lunches

“Please stop before I fall in love with you!” You tell the handsome stranger, who is not only handsome but downright pure-hearted.

It's meant as a joke, mainly because he's already good-looking but now also cuddling a terrifyingly cute puppy and the sight of them together is doing bad things to your heart. Not that you'd have a chance with Mr. Gorgeous, no matter how many times you've seen him in the park this last month (You hope he doesn't know he's the reason you're here so often).

Bright red flushes his face as he looks up at you and to your surprise, he's stammering.

"I- no, I mean you- You can't. I-"

"Relax," you tell him with a smile, "I totally get that you're taken." Even though it hurts to think about it, you add in your thoughts.

"NO!" He exclaims urgently, scaring the Puppy and immediately muttering soft nothings to calm it.

"No," he adds a little quieter, though with no less urgency, "I'm not- I'm single, really! I-"

"Yes?" You lower yourself until you're on par with him, stretch out your hand to let the Puppy sniff it. "You're single and?"

But he doesn't continue, rather turning an impressive shade of red, darker than before.

Something like hope lurches in your throat, making you act on impulse rather than rational thinking. You're surely going to regret this.

"I was on my way out for Lunch. Do you wanna come with?"

He nods enthusiastically, seemingly unable to speak. His puppy yaps in his place, eagerly agreeing.

As it turns out, his name is Asahi Azumane, Fashion Designer, proud Uncle of said Puppy.

"I asked to walk it today," he admits on your way back from Lunch, "because Suga, my friend, he... he said no one can resist Puppy Dog Eyes."

"Well, he's right of course," you say, thinking of Asahi's own set of Puppy Dog Eyes.

"I was... uh... I was really hoping you'd walk by today too." He adds shyly, his hand moving to grab yours.

My Kofi

[ice-and-starlight]

It's been a few days, but if you were still interested in that ask meme....

M: Got any premises on the back burner that you’d care to share?

=D Yeay! An ask!

Hooooo, okay, so, I have a LOT of fanfic that I'm theoretically working on/daydreaming about that doesn't get shared, but, uh, lets see what's not too horrifying to share...

I spent a couple of weeks a few months ago binge-watching Criminal Minds, and got infected by a plotbunny of Dean Winchester/Aaron Hotchner(/Haley Brooks) as a sort of... fix it crossover where, because they're both protagonists from rather different genres, their different approach manages to fix things in the other 'verse.

As in, Dean kills Foyet in proper I'm-fresh-out-of-hell-and-you-did-WHAT-to-my-boyfriend?! style. With added bonus 'you think you're good with a knife? Boy, have I got some things to show you. Say hello to Alastair for me when you get down there'.

And Hotch (and the team) profile the fucking devil so well they manage to talk him down from trying to wipe out humanity. (He goes off to fuck up heaven instead.)

I've gotten bits and pieces of, well, backstory written up, plus some 'Dean meets the BAU' and 'Hotch meets hunters' scenes that I love, but I've gotten stuck on something really stupid and just haven't managed to get my brain to move past it, so I haven't actually written the parts I started writing the story for yet ^^" (this happens to me a lot).

What else?

I have been working, on and off, on a Critical Role Time Travel AU that's actually kind of a spin-off of my very first Critical Role fic which is 'Molly lives rent-free in Caleb's head for the entire rest of the campaign' because as I was watching it I was constantly thinking 'but how would Molly react to this?!' so I wrote it (some of it).

And then I thought 'okay, but what if, okay, I know time-travel is supposed to be semi-impossible, but what if it is technically POSSIBLE, it's just that going backwards through time essentially destroys the soul/spirit/whatever, EXCEPT, of course, that when Caleb does it, he has a BONUS SOUL coming along for the ride, and it's basically enough for Molly to get through more or less intact?'

And then the Moonweaver is like 'fuck, you are my Most Troublesome Worshipper, what am I going to do with you?' and Molly is, you know, themself, so the Moonweaver, also being a goddess of lovers trysts, nudges things until Lucien ends up with twin baby brothers (Molly and Kingsley are both Aspects of the same being, and thus inextricably linked, so bits and pieces of Kingsley got dragged along for the ride, only not enough for him to have more than Weird Instincts) and a bonus Moonweaver Cleric mum.

Was this an excuse to write canon!verse Tealeaf triplets? Yes. Yes it was.

Did it turn into a Ridiculous Epic Saga of the Tea Leaves (Molly, Kingsley, Caduceus, Keg, and Ophelia Mardun) treking across all of Wildmount trying to save people from the future and stumbling into messes along the way? Yes. Yes it did.

Did I actually manage to write any of the actual story? No. I wrote backstory instead, and ended up mostly writing about the adventures of two separate Parent Squads that are probably... 40-60% OCs? doing a tiny little Molly's bidding. It very much became a And You Get A Parent And You Get A Parent And You Get Three Parents story.

I have Such Plans for this AU (including, importantly, a Shadowidomauk endgame), but, alas, actually writing it is proving... difficult.

One more for luck?

Hmm... I have Ideas for a Peaky Blinders AU based on my Little Sallyanne fic? It's not very well fleshed out yet, but it definitely results in Sally murdering the shit out of her brother's terrible wife, adopting her nibling, and going on to severely fuck up nazis when WWII rolls around.

This one is Percolating, and I'm really not sure what I want to do with it, exactly. Just general Vibes of Tommy being the feral gremlin mentor to my beloved feral gremlin child. (Also, Sally getting semi-adopted by Alfie Solomons, maybe, because here's this child going around claiming to be Jewish when she's not, and Alfie's like 'no, either you fucking Stop That, or you commit to the fucking bit' and Sally's like '-starry eyes- Okay Dad'. I would have to do a lot of research to do this justice because I'm aware that I don't know enough to know how to write this properly ^^" Basically, I just want everyone adopting her like a starving feral cat who will absolutely bite the hand that feeds her)

Technically, I think you can say that things like Never Simple, Not All Who Wander, and the various other unfinished things on my writing blog are all on a backburner right now? As well as the next instalments in my Somewhere Just Beyond My Reach and Gramarye and Trapped In The Amber series also count. I am Thinking About Them a lot, but there's either not enough for me to get my teeth stuck into, or my teeth are stuck and I can't chew on them properly =P