#but damn if those fics aren’t well written

[neon-danger]

Kinda redundant but have you read any good Jalex lately? I’ve been looking everywhere but I’m at that point of scraping the bottom of the barrel and re reading stories I’ve already read

I’ve been on a sterek kick actually so I got nothin

[mimasroom2]

Rouge est perdue (˵ •̀ ᴗ - ˵ ) ✧

Roommate!Ellie who is a perv😝

𓆟. ° .• .𓆝 .• ° . 𓆟 . ° .• .𓆞

I remember somebody writing something like this but I’ve no idea who ˙◠˙. This is literally a complete 180 from my previous fic LMAO😭 it’s been over a year since I’ve written just pure smut,, idk if this is good or not but whatever.

C/w: FILTHY smut. Porn w a bit of plot. No use of Y/N. Fingering (both receiving). Pillow humping. dom!reader & sub!ellie. Kinda loser!ellie? Ellie is a perv but still needs consent >•<. Squirting😇.

W/c: 2.7k

~ 𓆟. ° .• .𓆝 .• ° . 𓆟 . ° .• .𓆞

“Heyyy Ellie? This is gonna sound weird,,, but like,, do you know where any of my underwear is?”

You feel so fucking weird asking your roommate this question. After all, it’s just so embarrassing, and you’ve looked EVERYWHERE. If you didn’t know where it is… she definitely didn’t. I mean, the dryer eats up your socks all the time. Probably happens to Ellie too. Surely you’re not the only one with garments missing.

Ellie shifts a little on her feet, “What do ya mean?” She looks at you with those damn puppy dog eyes she loves to use, and you swear you’re not crazy when your stomach does the flip thing.

You try not to look her in the eye, “Not really bras but more like… panties?”

“Ohhh okay. Ya I understand. Oh but no- haven’t seen any that aren’t mine.” She says nonchalantly while walking away.

You blink at her, “Oh! well thanks anyway.” You shrug your shoulders as you walk back into your room.

~

She had promised herself only a couple pairs. Maximum 3. She tried to be smart about it - she’d take one pair of each kind you had. That way it wouldn’t look so suspicious, instead of only your pretty Victoria’s Secret thongs going missing. One pair of briefs, one pair of bikinis,,, and of course her favorite thong of yours.

This whole… obsession… we can say, started on the second day the two moved in together. You two were sitting on the couch after you’d spent way too long lugging it inside together. You were texting your friends on your phone as she turned on the tv to some dinosaur channel. Ellie couldn’t stop sneaking glances of you - your body and what you were wearing. She flashed her eyes down and saw this absolutely gorgeous pair of red panties peek out from under your leggings. Seeing you in those almost made her drop the remote. Why would you be wearing something like that? Who were you trying to impress?

From what she could tell from rummaging through your things when you moved in yesterday, you were single. In fact, you basically had lay it all out beautifully for her. All your bras, underwear, tights and sex toys were all in the same box. She licked her lips, no girl getting some good head at the moment would need a clit sucking vibrator. It all came together when she casually mentioned her last girlfriend’s around you, and she had to turn away to smile when you mentioned you like girls too.

Now, Ellie had this habit. Whenever you’d go out with your friends or off to work, she’d waltz into her bedroom, lock the door (to be safe), and dig down deep in her underwear drawer until she found your own panties. She carefully had them hidden inside her own boxers, there was basically no way you could ever find them. Not like you would search her room without permission anyway, she knew you. And of course she didn’t really steal them… she was borrowing them. She planned on returning them whenever she felt like it… whenever that might be.

~

Today Ellie went through her usual routine of waiting five minutes after you left, going into her room, and grabbing the red thong. She sighed and bit her lip. It was almost as pretty as you.. silk with soft mesh, see through basically everywhere except for where your pussy would lay. She played with the red bow on top, “This is so fucking stupid.” She thought to herself.

Ellie pressed her lips together, reaching into her shorts and palming herself over her boxers. She sighed immediately, letting out a soft “fuuuckkkk” as her eyes fluttered shut.

She’d been waiting about two weeks since she snagged your thong to fuck herself with it. Yeah, she was really fucking horny for you, but she wanted to draw it out as long as she could.

She hummed to herself, “Mmmmm,, need more..” she sat down on her bed and took her shorts off. She inspected the panties once more, as if she hadn’t done that one hundred times already. Just by feeling them she could tell they were new. Maybe you were feeling confident about your new life you’ve started. New job, new roommate, new panties. She was absent-mindedly rocking her hips back and forth during this, thinking about how you’d look wearing them while laying on her bed.

She finally took off her boxers and dipped her fingers into her pussy. Her mouth opened a little, she was wetter than she thought she’d be. “Mmhh okay,” she sighs, “Thas’ better.” Ellie brought her wet fingers up to her throbbing clit, just touching it, not even rubbing circles like how she desperately needed to. She couldn’t take it and whimpered, pushing her fingers onto herself harder as punishment. She felt her clit fluttering faster each second she held her fingers there.

She suddenly stopped , getting up to grab a pillow. She situated it in between her legs. “Okay..” she sighed, slowly lowering herself onto it. She began rocking her hips back and forth again, knitting her eyebrows together. It felt so much fucking better than humping nothing, especially considering how firm the edge of the pillow was.

She kept going, making her movements faster, but she quickly grew annoyed as her shirt would become tucked underneath herself as she rides the pillow. Grunting, she quickly pulled the shirt off, completely bare and naked except for her black sports bra. She hastily grabbed your red panties and lost her mind humping the pillow. She whimpered and started to let out small, quiet moans as her actions grew more and more desperate.

“Y-yesss.. hah- so good.. fuck me, more pleassssse…” Ellie could feel that familiar tightness at her core start to arise.

~

As you approached the door to your appartement with your huge grocery haul in both hands, you heard the tv playing. You shook your head and smiled to yourself, “Ugh Ellie’s always turning the tv up way too loud.. gonna get noise complaints soon.” You thought.

Quickly stepping inside, you set all the grocery bags down on the counter and walked to the living room to tell Ellie to turn down the tv. However, as soon as you walked in there was no Ellie, only the tv turned up and on some channel you knew Ellie didn’t even watch. You raised an eyebrow but shook it off. She was probably invited somewhere last minute and, knowing Ellie, probably threw something on and ran out the door without turning off any lights or the tv.

You grabbed the remote from off the couch and watched the channel for a few seconds before deciding to click the power off button. The very second you turned off the tv, you weren’t greeted by silence, but by Ellie’s voice doing something you never thought you’d hear: moaning.

Your whole face suddenly grew red, and you felt your stomach drop. Your mind began to race: Holy shit. She’s fucking someone in there. Why is she doing that today. Ohmygod I never said I was going to the store. She probably thought I was going to work and would be out for hours. Fuck. Fuck. Why is she fucking that girl and not me? No- fuck that’s wrong. I can’t think that about my roommate I barley know! Ohmygod I thought that when she said she was single she meant like- she didn’t even do one night stands. Oh fuck me in the fucking ass-

Suddenly, your rapid stream of thoughts were cut off by Ellie moaning your name.

“Mmmhhhmm.. hahhh fuck right there baby. Yes.. yes I’m such a fuckin’ slut for you.” You hear her whine and fucking whimper. Your eyes grew as wide as balloons and you immediately dropped your purse on the couch. You take off your shoes so you’re not as loud, and sneak over to Ellie’s room where her door is closed.

You feel so fucking awkward you don’t know what to do. Maybe you felt a little more horny than awkward however, because suddenly you notice yourself squeezing your thighs together and shifting on your feet.

“Fuck it.” You thought. You reach for the door handle but stop as you go to turn it, second guessing yourself. Is this really right? Well I mean, she’s the one masturbating to you and moaning your name… so…

You turn the handle and slowly open the door. It creaks a little, causing Ellie to jump and freeze in place. The only thing you can manage to say is “Holyyyyy fuck.” Your super fucking hot ass tatted up roommate is riding her own pillow with your own red thong in hand moaning your own name. You feel like you can’t even breathe.

“Ohmygod wait-“ Ellie starts, trying her best to hunch over and cover herself with the pillow, “Okay fuck I’m really sorry I didn’t even think you’d be home fuckingfuckmegoddammit I even turned on the tv super loud so no one would hear me and if I heard it turn off I would know you came back but ohmyfuckinggod I didn’t hear it go silent imsofuckingsorry-“

You cut off her rambling of explanations and apologies, “Heyyyy, Ellie…?” You slowly take off your jacket and shirt, trying your very best to be sensual, but this was never your forte. “You didn’t finish… right?” You slowly look up at her.

“Wha-? What? Why are you asking me-“

“You didn’t answer me.” You interrupt her. Your eyes become half lidded as you feel yourself becoming more confident. “Did you finish? Yes or no, Els.”

Ellie suddenly blushes at the nickname, “No.” she whispers with wide eyes, looking right at you.

“Let me help you then.”

“Fuck- please.”

That’s all the consent you need before you practically leap onto her, kissing her ravenously. The kiss quickly becomes sloppy and desperate, you pull away quickly to get some air, “Fuck. Been wanting to do that since I moved in.” Without letting Ellie respond, you latch yourself onto her neck, kissing and taking in her scent that you love so much.

“Mmmph- please…” She whimpers, quite pathetically. “Can’t wait baby..”

You smile at the pet name, kissing her deeply again as your hands explore her toned body.

You swear it’s only ten seconds more and she breaks away, whispering “I-I need you.”

“Oh I fucking know.”

Ellie watches you, eyes unfaltering as you plant kisses down her chest, toned abs, all the way down to her pussy.

Without warning, you start sliding a finger in, “Wanna see how loose you are.” You mutter to yourself. You don’t know why you’re even shocked when you easily push inside of her, deciding to slip another finger in.

Ellie moans immediately, grinding her hips rapidly down onto your hand. She throws her head back and her moans become louder, quicker. Suddenly, something red to the right of Ellie catches your eye as you’re finger fucking her. You were so tunnel visioned, ready to fuck her, that you completely forgot about your missing panties. The panties that she stole. You keep your eyes locked on your underwear as you speed up, as Ellie starts whining, basically crying about how she’s “Gonna cum soon.”

You can feel her g-spot so easily.

“Yeah? You’re gonna fucking tell me you took it or you’re not gonna cum. Use your words.” You instruct, never slowing down your pace.

Ellie gasps, she can’t even pretend she doesn’t know what you’re talking about, “Yeah. Y-Yes I fucking took it. Mmm- wanted to see… needed you so bad.. aaaaahh..” she stammers out and you never stopped fucking her desperate little pussy, occasionally moaning in response to what she tried to say.

Finally getting the confession you needed, you curled your fingers up inside of her. “Fuck- I’m gonna cum I’m gonna cum.. gonnacumbabyyy……”

“Cum for me, Ellie.”

She finally does, finally gets to cum after everything that’s happened. She gasps rapidly.

You talk her through her orgasm, saying things like, “That’s it Ellie.” “God you’re so fucking beautiful.”

As soon as she was done squirming, Ellie grabs your face and kisses you deeply. She sits the two of your up and slides her knee in between your thighs. You were so turned on, you swear you could cum just from doing this. It seems as though Ellie understood exactly what you wanted, because she swiftly flips you over onto your back and starts unbuttoning your pants.

You laugh, suddenly getting an idea, “Wait, wait. Turn around and cover your eyes, Els.”

She’s skeptical, raising an eyebrow but complies anyway. After all, you just gave her the best orgasm she’s probably ever had. She hears shuffling for a few seconds, and the zipper of your pants coming undone as you drop them to the floor.

“Tadaaaa!” You exclaim, signaling to Ellie that it’s okay if she turns around.

You swear Ellie’s eyes have never been wider as she sees you wearing nothing but that damn red thong.

She almost drools, “Holyyyyy shiiiitttttt..” and slowly walks over to you, grabbing your waist with her sexy ass hands. “Even better than I was imagining.. need to fuck you right now okay..?” She mutters, mostly to herself, as she’s still too distracted feeling up how the red silk hugs your body.

“Been ready for so long, Els.” You say as you crawl back onto the bed, trying to break her out of her spell.

Ellie climbs on top of you and plays with your nipples, kissing and biting your neck at the same time. You whimper - that’s definitely going to leave marks in the morning. Only after a few seconds her hands leave your chest, moving lower to peel away the red fabric and reveal your dripping pussy.

She gasps, staring for a few moments at how beautiful you are. “Fuck, so so pretty.” She cracks her knuckles, “God, you’re already so wet for me… I’m gonna stretch you out baby, lemme know if you hurt ‘mkay?”

You whine in response, feeling the butterflies in your stomach erupt as she effortlessly slides two fingers in. You gasp as she starts moving, then slowly picking up the pace until she’s basically slamming into your g-spot.

“Ohhh.. f-fuck me.”

Ellie pants as she pumps her gorgeous fingers in and out of you, “That’s jus’ what I’m doin’ baby.” She smirks. Suddenly, she adds one more finger and brings her thumb up to rub your clit, and you almost scream.

It only takes a little more and you’re already on edge. She can feel you clenching around her. You’re so close. She hisses sharply, sucking in the air through her teeth as you take her, “Fuck, see my tattoo moving as I fuck you hon?” She pants, “Doin’ so good for me like this.”

“I- I think I’m gonna cum soon..” You whimper and your legs start shaking. “Ahh,, fuck Ellie-!!”

“Go on baby, you can cum.”

With just that little bit of motivation, you finally have the orgasm you’ve so desperately wanted. It’s so intense as she keeps fucking you senseless, you feel yourself squirt, which almost never happens, the warm fluid surprising you. You cover your face with your hands, so embarrassed that your body is doing this for Ellie. She hushes you, letting you know it’s okay.

You know you’re finally done when you throw your head back, trying to catch your breath. Ellie flops down beside you, smiling at you and waiting for the right time to say something.

“So, wanna like… be my girlfriend now?” She says, absolutely way too nonchalantly.

You look at her and laugh, slapping her arm playfully, “You literally made me see stars, Ellie! Gimme a second!!”

She throws her hands up in the air. “Sorry, sorry! Just couldn’t wait.” You both giggle.

You turn over on your side, kissing her cute little nose, “Yeah.. yeah that’d be nice.”

You smile and Ellie’s face lights up, she quickly plants fast kisses all over your face. “My hot roommate wants to date me!!” She exclaims. You laugh and she pulls you in closer, hugging her arms around you.

She reaches over to turn off the lamp, and the two of you drift off to sleep.

♡

[ladiemars]

I love Nor and her giant sad puppy eyes, I would love to know more about her

thank you!! have a hastily drawn nor ft. her giant sad sopping wet puppy eyes:

+ a giant nor lore dump below the cut જ⁀➴

➸ her whole character was inspired by that one textpost that’s like, “characters with both the abject terror and desperation of an animal that knows it is cornered and destined to be eaten. you just can't get that kind of angst out a successful hunter” and this quote by james harriet: “if having a soul means being able to feel love and loyalty and gratitude, then animals are better off than a lot of humans.”

➸ she’s is the product of a union between a drow woman and a deep imaskari man. for those who don’t know, the deep imaskari are a human subrace (from 3e) that have stone-like skin and hair that’s white or black. because that’s nor’s human half, most people assume she’s completely drow upon meeting her, since did not inherit any features from her father that would make her look less like her drow mother.

➸ the deep imaskari live longer than other humans—up to 550 years—so nor ages at a rate more akin to drow and elves than half-elves or humans. nor believes she’s currently around seventy years old, though she could be off by a decade or two. she’s not sure when she was born and has long periods without human contact. she really isn’t sure how much time has passed.

➸ she has no given name, but eventually ended up going by the name ratcatcher, which is what the locals in baldur’s gate called her. halsin is the one who names her nor shortly after they meet, which is the elven word for “passion” and also “run.”

➸ this excerpt from one of my fics sums up her urchin/orphan to urban ranger/beastmaster pipeline pretty well:

➸ around the age of twenty, nor grew to resent humanity so much that she decided to leave baldur’s gate and live in the forest with only animals for company for half a century. (this is when she lost track of time completely.) in the forest, she became an expert in survival, attuning her ears to the slightest twitch in the air, to every noise and smell. she lived in a cave and slept curled up beside velvet on a bed of willow leaves. the events of baldur’s gate 3 is the first time in decades that she’s had social interaction.. and it shows.

➸ she has a little wolfdog companion named velvet. (i’ve drawn him and her and halsin and scratch here). he was another half-breed who didn’t quite being anywhere, so they bonded very deeply. (fun fact: velvet killed the elder brain in my first playthrough as nor. he’s a legend in faerun now.)

➸ laezel is her bestie. they are ride or die. neither of them understand a damn thing about faerun or its inhabitants. but that also means they don’t judge each other for anything, cause they both just kind of assume what the other is doing is normal

➸ a big part of her character is her dynamic with the emperor. she gets manipulated by him so bad because he tells her everything a forgotten, unloved creature wants to hear: i need you, i’ll protect you, you’re not like other people, we’re a team, you can trust me, i want you to join me, you aren’t alone. it’s not until he begins to pressure and compel her to become illithid against her will she starts to fear him and his power over her, and after certain revelations she realizes he was using her and turns on him altogether.

➸ obviously she romances halsin. i love the dynamic of beastmaster/druid. they’re extremely well suited because they’re both such inherently good people and they bond a lot over their love for nature. they are also the only two people who can really understand each other’s animalistic quirks.

i’ve written some fics with her that you can read here if you’re interested. >:3c

[wolfjackle-creates]

Ghost!Robin Part 4

Here's your next part of the Ghost!Robin fic for WIP Wednesday. I'm gonna start putting fic designation in the title field rather than WIP Wednesday because I think it makes it easier to read.

Also, everyone came out in numbers for last week's segment! Damn! Thank you and I'm glad so many of you are enjoying this little fic of mine. We'll probably get one more week of this before I go back to Bring Me Home, but it'll depend what I feel like. I want to rework some of what I have written next.

First, Previous

1.1k words + a 464 word Omake (cut scene)

----------

Tim asked more details on the specs of the PDA which Danny happily answered. The things he built with Tucker were always his favorite inventions.

“So are you in school to become an engineer or something?” asked Dick who’d gotten Damian calmed down and sitting. The boy had gotten his knife back and was spinning it in his hands. Bruce seemed to be fondly exacerbated by the scene. Robin had pulled out a ghostly weapon and was trying to copy Damian’s movements, though he wasn’t quite as adept.

Danny shook his head to Dick’s question. “Nah. Hard to get into engineering school when you fail high school.” Danny narrowed his eyes as Damian’s mouth opened, but Dick whispered in his ear again and the boy didn’t say anything.

“I ended up dropping out of high school and getting a GED,” said Tim. “It can work just as well.”

Robin was nodding along and pointing at himself, too. Had he died before he could complete his schooling, too?

“I’m sure. It’s just not a priority for me right now. I don’t need one for my job and I can’t become an astronaut because of my accident when I was fourteen.”

Dick was nodding, but Tim looked confused and asked, “Fourteen? I thought you had your accident when you were older?”

“Why would you think that?” Had he or Jazz made any reference to when his accident was? “No, it happened when I was fourteen. A few weeks before I started my freshman year of high school.

Before Tim could ask anything else, Steph called out from the other side of the room. “Did you say you wanted to be an astronaut? Totally awesome. What made you pick that?”

“I honestly don’t know why everyone doesn’t want to be astronauts! Space is so cool. We can learn so much about the universe by studying it in closer detail. And with how many aliens are now living at least part time on Earth, it only makes sense to explore and see what else might be out there.”

Bruce nodded at him. “I am sorry you aren’t able to become one.”

Danny just waved a hand in the air. “I came to terms with it a long time ago. And my current job is fine. Might not be what I would’ve chosen, but I’ve made it work for me.” Deciding he should change the subject before someone had the brilliant idea to ask more about his accident or job, he asked, “So what is for dinner, anyway? You’ve all talked about how amazing the food is, but what are we having?”

Someone tried to speak up, but Jason held up a hand. “I’m the one who helped Alfie cook. Demon-brat is vegetarian so we have a vegetarian curry. If you like meat, there’s a prime rib roast. Then a half dozen different sides—vegetables, rice, potatoes. Huge salad with all the fixings and a dozen different dressings to choose from. And dessert after.”

“Damn, that sounds amazing. I haven’t had a good home cooked meal in ages, so I’ve been looking forward to this.”

“Has your Grandpa been keeping you that busy?” asked Jazz.

“That, but also getting things in order to take this evening off. There’s just been a lot. I’m spending the night at yours, by the way.”

“I’d be offended if you didn’t.”

Danny knew he could rely on Jazz.

“Ooh, do you have any good stories about Jazz as a kid?” asked Jason.

Laughing, Danny said, “So many! But I don’t think we’ll be able to get to those tonight. I’ve a feeling you’ll be interested in other things by that point.” At his words, Robin grinned and pointed at himself. Danny gave him a slight nod to confirm that yes, they’d be talking about him.

Before Jason could ask for clarification, Alfred came in to announce dinner was ready.

Robin cheered and flew over to sit on Alfred’s shoulders, hand extended, to lead the way to the dinning room. Danny couldn’t hold back the chuckle and Jazz shot him a look which he ignored.

“There better be a place setting for you, Alfie!” called Jason as they followed.

“You made your opinion quite clear, Master Jason. And as I wish to meet your young lady and her brother as well, I have set myself a plate at the main table.”

Tim leaned over to whisper to Danny. “Alfred considers his role as butler very important. He rarely eats with the rest of us unless we join him in the kitchen.”

Danny nodded to show he understood, but had no idea how to actually reply to that. It seemed needlessly complicated.

Once they made it to the dining room, Danny grinned as Robin did a flip off of Alfred’s shoulders and landed sitting down on one of the place settings facing the associated chair. He bit his cheek to keep from laughing as Jason sat down at that same place. Jazz took a seat next to him and Danny sat to her other side. Dick ended up sitting next to him.

The scents of all the food wafting off the table made his mouth water and he closed his eyes just to breathe it in. “This smells amazing. Thanks Alfred. And Jason.”

Even Robin had moved to look over every dish, reaching out a hand to try and take something and sighing when he just phased through it.

Even Jazz looked a bit overwhelmed at the quantity of food. “This is so much effort. You didn’t have to do all this just for Danny and me.”

Bruce smiled at her. “It is so rare for all of us to be together for dinner so we make a spectacle of it any time it happens. And this is the first time Jason has ever brought anyone with him which makes it an even bigger event.”

Danny nudged her. “So, Jazz, what’s it like living with someone who can cook?”

Jason laughed. “Jazz isn’t allowed in the kitchen. You know, I caught her grabbing my chef’s knife before going into the fridge the other day!”

Danny furrowed his brow. “Of course she did. It’s a fridge.”

“Wait, is that a family trait? Why do you grab a knife to open the fridge? There’s gotta be a good story behind that.”

Before Danny could make the obvious statement regarding attacking food, Jazz elbowed him. “We’ll tell you later. It has to do with our parents and that’s a large topic and not one we should get into now.”

Before Danny could ask any questions about what the big deal was, Dick nudged him. “Which do you want—curry or beef?”

---------

Omake

Ignoring all of it, Danny shook his head and answered Dick. “Nah. Hard to get into college when you fail high school and are legally dead.”

Multiple people, including Jason, exclaimed at that statement and he looked to Jazz.

“Did Jazz not tell you about that? Our parents swear they saw my ghost and had me declared legally dead. I was missing at the time so the coroner agreed. Sighting the ghost of a missing person is all you need to confirm death in Amity.”

Under her breath, Jazz added, “You were only missing because they had you.”

Danny elbowed her and quietly chirped a Safe now.

Bruce was no longer smiling and was looking at Danny with narrowed eyes. “Your parents had you declared dead.”

“Yeah. It’s fine, though. I’ve an amazing doctor if I get into trouble. My grandfather is watching out for me. I’m financially stable. My partners are able to rent an apartment large enough for all three of us. I have other places to stay when I’m traveling. Honestly, it doesn’t impact my life all that much. Just means I’m not gonna go to college. And only reason I wanted to go to college was to be an astronaut, but my health makes that impossible.”

“Hn…” Bruce hummed.

And Danny had no idea what that meant, but Robin was now laughing, and Dick was exchanging grins with Tim, and Steph and Cass were whispering together. Damian was glaring at him even harder, blade hilt gripped in his hand. These people were strange.

Danny looked over at Jazz who shrugged. Jason was glaring at Bruce and said, “Don’t you dare.”

“Look, it’s really not a big deal. I know it’s kinda a messed up situation, but ghosts are generally treated really well in Amity. As well as any living human, at least. So long as you avoid the Guys in White and my parents that is. So outside of interactions with them, nothing has changed.”

“If you are ever in need of a place to stay or a meal or anything, you’ll have a room here,” offered Bruce.

Robin landed on Danny’s shoulders and was sending out happy-celebrate feelings. Steph handed Cass a few bills. Tim and Dick mimed giving each other fist bumps. Jason put his head in his hands and groaned. Duke was grinning at them all.

Damian half stood and said, “Father—!”

But Dick was at his side and pulling him back down to the couch with an arm around his shoulders, hand over his mouth, and whispering into his ear before he could do more than say the one word.

“Seriously, it’s not a big deal.” Trying to think of anyway to change the subject, he asked, “So what’s for dinner, anyway?”

And for the Tag List! (Which absolutely exploded this week. Holy shit.)

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Next

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The celebration post for 100 followers will be going out in another day or two! I've just had a really busy few weeks and didn't do as much writing as I was hoping for. But I hope to finish writing today and then I'll just take a few hours to edit.

[healer-pop]

U know what I been thinking abt.....an aphrodisiac fic. I've got it all written out in my head, reader and Sloane are out camping. They are having a good day, set up camp and while gathering wood reader gets poofed in the face by a flower (sporess ooo). Sloane laughs their ass off, and reader is a little peeved getting spores all over themself.

Fast forward, dinner is being cooked and reader starts to feel weird. Hot, high, and really bothered!! They go into the tent to hide, and Sloane knocks on it saying dinners ready. Reader never comes out tho and Sloane goes in to see them sweating, hot and almost sick looking. Sloane tries to tend to them, a wet rag and asking what's wrong are they sick?? The second Sloane touches reader tho...they mewl. Almost a whine that creeps out of the back of their throat. Super sexy sounding. Sloane chooses to ignore it because they think reader is sick... it's just them being sick.. yes obviously.

Maybe Sloane helps them sit up to drink some water and the touch has reader grasping onto their leg HARD. Readers panting like a dog and got them bedroom eyes...

Was toying with the idea of Sloane and reader being best friends everrr with some huge unresolved romantic feelings. This is just the dam that breaks it all open. Obv all consent is given and gotten, and I think it was actually well talked out. Reader reassures Sloane they've wanted this for so long, but if they said no that they could forget it ever happened. I'm crazy insane I'm shaking the bars of my cage.

Googling, “can I sue the anon that wrote the hottest, absolutely most well thought out, mentally damaging fic in my inbox for emotional reparation?”

LIKE HOW DO U DROP THIS AND NOT EXPECT ME TO FROTH AT THE MOUTH???? Anon, I don’t know how you knew that sex pollen fics have always been my favorite but I do blame you for the fact that this kept me up last night!!!! mainly because this is so spot on and also why I don’t really get together fix with Venture, especially with my flowery writing, lengthy ass. That shit would be like 20K before you guys even touched. To me, Sloane is not the one to make a first move. And if you aren’t either, it’s just never gonna happen. Once you’ve actually gotten established, they’re super touchy and able to respect your boundaries, but before? They are wayyyyy too nervous, their biggest one being that they’re just overthinking your interactions with them and they don’t want to mess anything up. Unless you directly say, “I like you and want to date you,” it’s gonna go over their head.

And that would work perfectly for this fic, it would be such a desperate, hot sloppy mess for the both of you: With Sloane, trying to preserve your friendship and not mess this up despite their desire for you, how much this is actually you and how much of this is just the pollen and desperation. And you pleading with them, trying to get across that no, you have wanted this for so damn long and it sucks that it took some stupid horny flower to make you say it, but please, for the love of AURORA, Sloane, TOUCH ME. God I could imagine how red their face would be. They would keep checking in with you to make sure they’re doing it right for you, whether they’re sliding their fingers in your cunt or sucking on your tits!!! You’re almost tempted to go and grab that damn flower and shove it in their face so they can loosen up, but… the way they take care of you, trying every single position to quell your burning arousal…. so loving and tender… it’s honestly what you crave more. They have you on your knees, thrusting back onto their fingers as they encourage you, their beaded bracelets click with every motion, their hand on the small of your back, kneading your ass. On their sleeping bag, legs wrapped around their shoulders, eating you out like you’re as yummy as those s’mores they had earlier, telling you to wet their sleeping bag, they’ll just cuddle naked with you in yours while you put that one out to dry. And yes…. you CAN fall asleep with their strap in you, if it feels good. You can wake up at any time and fuck yourself on it. Sloane will be awake in an instant, helping you roll your hips back, digging into them because god, this has only been a dream. Feeling your flesh in their hands, being able to touch and hold and clench. Might keep a mental track of how many times you’ve cum. You know. For posterity.

And after you’ve been fucked through it? When you wake up with the worst bed head you’ve ever had, covered in sweat and bruises, naked and pressed against Sloane in your sleeping bag? Sloane will kiss your lips shut, guide you back down, and show you the most loving, intimate sex, you’ve ever had. You’ll feel like you have never connected with a partner more than you have right now. Whispers of love from Sloane, complementing how pretty you are, how perfect, how you were made for them, how good you are to them, how they want to see you every day of their life. Completely overwhelming, yet so needed, especially how you were held so helpless to your own lust. They make sure you know that they aren’t leaving. They’ll be here by your side through anything.

[swiftsaltsweet]

Two Knives Interlude 1: Rangi- Damn

Characters: Rangi and Kyoshi (RoK characters tbh)

Pairing: Rangshi

Rating: M

Summary:

Things have been stressful for Kyoshi. First, she sang a poem and now the whole kitchen staff thinks it’s about Rangi, and is sure that there will be gossip. Then, Yun asks her to join him for the Fifth Nation treaty signing. Now Rangi’s acting strange. It’s becoming a bit much for Kyoshi’s small corner of the world.

(Canon Divergent AU- Kelsang wasn’t the one who heard the poem?….aka What if it took longer for them to realize Kyoshi was the Avatar?)

Other Sites: AO3 

A/N: (Future me edit: Phew! Glad you guys seemed to like the little twist at the end, was a little nervous ngl TT0TT Also YAY! I CAN FINALLY START SHARING THE RANGI CHAPTERS! *sobs* so excited and haha oh man now I’m nervous akfjskfdaj)

(back to past me:) Heyyyyyy it’s POV switch time, just like The Hunt For Kyoshi’s: The Hunter and The Hunted chapters :’D

I only had this POV flip planned so………u_u but hey! It’s like 3 chapters worth in one chapter so :’D Wait…3 chapters….. *looks at the length of this chapter vs the others* Oh someone save meeeeeee TT0TT Haha this is gonna be a long chapter-Oh wait I’m getting a call. Ahuh. Hmm. Yup… 27 pages????......AND YOU AREN’T DONE……. THREE CHAPTERS AND NOT ONE?! Ok We’re splitting this into three chapters sorry. :’D

I underestimated how much Rangi yaps. u_u Pining more than a damn pine tree.

Me from the future (again): *stumbles in* Heyyyyy-o. Oh boi. Um….yes. So….THIS chapter was supposed to be chapter 4, but then I changed it. :’D So like….just remember how these were written/structured: Kyoshi’s first 3 chapters, and then Rangi’s first three chapters, then chapters 4-6, then Rangi’s 4th chapter (that 4th chapter wasn’t originally going to exist too jaklfjds. Man this fic has been shuffled about more than a deck of cards kjfdslafjs

____

Rangi was an idiot. She couldn’t believe that she walked all the way down to the kitchen, and had forgotten to tell Kyoshi the one important news she wanted to relay to her! She cursed that Aoma girl and her cronies for bullying Kyoshi, because they’d distracted her as well. Instead of telling Kyoshi the good news of Master Kelsang returning from a relief mission early, she was trying to give the giant girl tips on how to defend herself.

All those tips falling on deaf ears, as usual. 

She slowly and silently made her way back down to the ruckus kitchen. She heard them from the hallway, something about singing a dirty song or something about unrequited love. She really hoped Kyoshi wasn’t still wasting her time down there. 

“Kyoshi next!” someone said, and the sound of Kyoshi’s name made Rangi stop on the stairs. “She’s never here, so let’s make the most of it!”

Rangi stood in the middle of the staircase, just out of sight from the kitchen. Unsure of what to do. On one hand, she was annoyed that her hunch was right, and Kyoshi was still down there. But on the other hand, she wondered if Kyoshi was going to join in. If she was going to sing. What her singing voice sounded like. What she was going to sing about. 

She stood there, heart thrumming in her chest to the beat of the kitchen appliances.

“I’ve got two knives that are cast in bronze / they pierce all the way to the soul / they draw you in with the promise of sin / like the moth to the flame to the coal.”

Rangi’s eyes widened as she heard Kyoshi’s singing voice for the first time. It was such a lovely alto. Her voice was smooth, strong and rich. 

The kitchen howled. Someone clucked in disapproval. “Keep going, you naughty girl!” a voice shouted.

Oh, right, she supposed she should be listening to the lyrics. She shook her head, as much as she’d love to listen to Kyoshi’s voice. The song itself might give her an indication on if Kyoshi liked someone.

Let’s see, something about bronze and fire? Rangi’s heart leapt at the thought of the second description, but tapered it down. She didn’t want to get ahead of herself. 

“I’ve got hair like the starless night / it sticks to my lips when I smile / I’ll wind it with yours and we’ll drift off course / in a ship touching hearts all the while.”

Kyoshi drummed on, more percussion started filling the air. And Rangi’s heart started to pound harder. Starless night. Black. A hand flew to her chest. Ok, now she couldn’t stop from getting ahead of herself. There were only a handful of people on the estate that had black hair, and she was one of them. 

“For the way I walk is a lantern lit / that leads you into the night / I’ll hold you close and love you the most / until our end is in sight.”

Rangi could feel the blood pounding in her ears, she could feel the blush covering her body. She knew she was beat red. Black hair, fire, light. Entangled hair. Wanting to hold and love them. Rangi leaned against the wall for support, and prayed. Prayed to every spirit imaginable. Prayed to every Avatar. Prayed that the person Kyoshi was talking about was her. Was Rangi. 

“It’s Rangi!” someone shouted. Rangi nearly leapt out of her skin. She stumbled back a few steps, fearing someone saw her. 

I thought I was out of sight!

“It is Rangi!”someone else cooed, the sound of kissing noises were heard.

“W-where?” Kyoshi asked, alarmed.

“Not in here, idiot!” a male voice said. “In your song! Just admit it, you just sang about Rangi.”

Rangi feared she was going to go into cardiac arrest. So she wasn’t crazy. She wasn’t the only one who saw the resemblance between her and Kyoshi’s song. Now, would Kyoshi admit it? Should she admit it? What should Rangi do if she did?

A million questions spiraled in her mind. 

What she wanted to do right then and there was run down there and…. Take Kyoshi right where she stood? Take her hand and run off with her? Both? 

Rangi drew a breath as quietly as she could. At some point she’d forgotten how to breathe. No, no, she couldn’t act brashly. Kyoshi had to confirm. And….there were other obstacles Rangi may have to overcome if Kyoshi did confirm. 

Rangi, and the rest of the staff waited for Kyoshi’s answer.

“I-I, uh, I,” Kyoshi started. 

Did Kyoshi not mean to sing about Rangi? Did the kitchen staff guess wrong? Did Kyoshi think no one would be able to guess it was about Rangi? 

The wait was killing her.

“I, uh, I have to go get ready for my gifting duties,” Kyoshi said hurriedly, and the sound of movement could be heard.

Rangi jumped and sprinted up the stairs as fast as she could. She quickly ascended the stairs, scratching and clawing on all fours, unable to keep her balance. Surely she was not as silent as she’d wanted to be. As soon as she got to the top she dove through the open window on the other side of the hall from the stairs without thinking. 

She landed in the bushes, and sat there, under the windowsill out of view. Her hand over her mouth to stifle any noises. She heard Kyoshi finish ascending the staircase, and then run in the direction of her room.

Rangi sat there for a moment, trying to catch her breath, and to cool her features off. She didn’t need to be walking around with her face flushed the same color as her red armor.

She placed her forehead on her knees and breathed. She likes me? Does this mean she likes me? She thought to herself, unable to stop the hope rising in her chest. 

For the past two years she’d resigned herself into thinking Kyoshi wouldn’t like her back. That her crush would go unanswered. So this hope was dangerous, if she completely gave in then…. What if Kyoshi still didn't like her? What would she do then?

Rangi took a few more calming breaths, and then slapped her own cheeks. She needed to calm down. She had duties to attend to!

…but first, she should probably go wash her face in her room. The water might help cool it off.

She scrunched up her face into the signature Sei’naka- or maybe it was just the Fire Nation?- stoic look. No one would be able to tell what she was thinking if she kept it like this. 

She made sure now one was looking before she escaped out of the bushes, and ran to her own room.

________________

Rangi ran the cool towel over her face, it warmed almost instantly at the contact of her skin. She repeated the process about a dozen or so times until her reddened face had finally calmed down. 

She grabbed a nearby dry towel and dried her face off. When she finally pulled it away, she began inspecting her appearance in the mirror. Her hair was a mess, so she fixed it. Trying not to think of the lyrics.

She inspected her skin, it was back to the normal pale it usually was, only a slight red hue scattered across it. Her fingers brushed at her neck, then her jaw, then her cheeks and then they froze. Her gaze lingered on her eyes. Her bronze colored eyes. 

“I’ve got two knives that are cast in bronze / they pierce all the way to the soul”

Rangi gasped, and pressed the towel into her face again. As if the pressure could stop the lyrics from forming in her mind. 

Kyoshi had been singing about her eyes. No! No, she needed to think rationally. Kyoshi might’ve been singing about her eyes. Might!

 “They draw you in with the promise of sin / like the moth to the flame to the coal.”

Rangi let out a muffled scream into the towel, her flush coming back red hot. Did Kyoshi really say her gaze was sinful? 

Have I been too obvious? Please tell me I haven’t been too obvious!

She thought about every longing look she thought she snuck and it caused her to do a little dance of embarrassment. Which led to her tripping over her own feet, and falling backwards onto the floor. 

Rangi’s face was still in the towel as she screamed and cringed into it with each memory that passed in her mind; kicking her legs on the floor all the while. It was a pathetic sight. If anyone were to walk in, that might be the final blow to her ego. She may never recover. Thankfully, there was nary a person in the estate that would just barge into Rangi’s room unannounced.

Rangi heard her door slide open with a click.

She slowly removed the towel to see a pair of familiar boots.

She looked up at her mother with absolute dismay. If anyone could or would see Rangi at her lowest and most vulnerable, her mother would always be there with a front row seat. 

Hei-Ran gazed down at her daughter with a deep frown. “What on earth are you doing?”

Breaking down. She thought. Rangi did her best to screw her face back into a stoic expression, the flush be damned. She stood up straight, inhaled, ready to give the excuse of her life. 

She exhaled…..and stared at her mother.

She had nothing. No excuse existed in this world that could’ve explained such disappointing behavior. It’d be better if she told her mother the truth, but she’d never do that. She feared what her mother might say or do if she mentioned her crush on Kyoshi.

Instead, she kept the staring contest up with her mother, until Hei-Ran finally broke it by pinching the bridge of her nose.

“Oh, nevermind. I don’t think I want to know,” Hei-Ran conceded. Rangi was going to leave the biggest and bestest offering for the spirits when she had time. 

Rangi cleared her throat. “What brings you to my room, mother? Shouldn’t you be with Yun?”

Hei-Ran sighed, “Yes, but we are taking a break. However, it appears he wants his break extended. It seems he galavanted off somewhere.”

Rangi nodded. That sounded like her Avatar.

“And I was wondering if his bodyguard would know where he was,” Hei-Ran glared at her daughter.

Rangi stiffened. She’d been neglecting her duties for the day. To be fair, she didn’t necessarily have to bodyguard Yun when he was in the presence of his Sifus, but still. She was slacking.

“I’ll go and fetch him,” Rangi said with a bow.

“Good,” Hei-Ran replied, turning on her heel to leave. 

As she exited the door, a group of servants passed her room in the hall. “Did you see the Avatar?”

“Yeah I saw him on his way to the gifting room, you know where Kyoshi is!”

“How scandalous-Hey!”

Rangi practically barreled into her mother and the other maids as she passed, face pale in distress.

_____________

No! No no no no! Not the gifting room! Not those two alone!

Rangi’s mind was now screaming as she sprinted through the estate, she didn’t care if she looked like a spirit out of hell. She had to get to the gifting room, stat!

She was having a possibly amazing day, she didn’t need it to be ruined by the memories from around eight months ago. When she last left Yun and Kyoshi in a room together, alone. How they looked at each other. How Kyoshi sprinkled Fire Lilies over Yun’s face. How they….kissed. Or, almost kissed? Rangi didn’t know, she didn’t stick around to watch.

Rangi rounded the corner, she was running at the door with a full sprint. Body ready to catch them in the act this time, mind not as prepared.

She reached the door, stopped just in time, and slid the door open with a smooth click. 

She gazed at the two in front of her. Kyoshi and Yun were a respectable distance apart. Nothing nefarious happened this time. She sighed inwardly, and then remembered to keep her face in its stoic placement. She didn’t trust her real emotions at the moment. 

"Avatar." She bowed deeply and solemnly to Yun. Then she turned to Kyoshi, Kyoshi appeared more sullen than usual. “And you! You’ve barely made any prog-”

Rangi cut herself off and tore her eyes away from Kyoshi, looking around the room. Her eyes widened a bit. “Oh….it’s…. actually almost done.” She wasn’t expecting that….

Almost all the presents were in neat little piles, all that needed to be done was transfer them.

“I got here early….” she heard Kyoshi muttered. She wouldn’t look at Rangi at all. 

Rangi could feel her pulse race. Is it because of the song she sang? Is it true? Or is she just self-conscious because the kitchen staff had teased her? Questions began to fill Rangi’s mind once again.

“Yeah Rangi,” Yun laughed. “This is Kyoshi we’re talking about, how dare you question her skill of working fast and efficiently?”

Rangi turned on her heel to face the Avatar, glaring at him. He was throwing her under the bus in front of Kyoshi! Again! “D-don’t put words in my mouth! I simply thought due to the volume that came in, and the fact you are skipping training to be a distraction, she may not have gotten as far as she did.”

“Well, I left the kitchen as soon as possible and got to work, just like you wanted,” Kyoshi mumbled. 

Rangi looked back, and Kyoshi had a slight glower on her face. She could feel her palms getting sweaty. Had Rangi upset her? Had she been upset before Rangi arrived? More millions of questions flew through her mind. Too many, she didn’t know which ones to ask first.

Kyoshi looked back at them, eyes widened a little, and then scratched her nose in embarrassment. “Did I say something wrong?”

Rangi stared at Kyoshi, trying to read her but found it too difficult. She looked down at her feet in defeat.  “No… it’s just….” Do you like me? Do you hate me? Do I upset you? So many questions.

“I think Kyoshi’s just a little nervous,” Yun announced.

Was it because of the song? How did he know about it? Did gossip already spread? Wait, if he knows about it then-

“I just asked her to join the Fifth Nation signing and she agreed to go,” he continued calmly.

Rangi’s train of thought came to a crashing halt when she heard him finish his sentence. Kyoshi was…..coming with them? To the daofei meeting. Sweet, innocent, never seen combat before, Kyoshi. She was going to go to a possible battleground. A war. A maid who has never held a weapon in her life, and might have to fight to the death. Her Kyoshi.

Rangi turned on Yun, glaring at him with the heat of a thousand suns. “Wh-what?! What do you mean she’s going?!”

“I was going to tell you,” Yun smiled, putting his hands up in surrender. 

Rangi spluttered and looked between Yun and Kyoshi. Why wasn’t Kyoshi saying anything? Did he pressure her into it? Was she stupid?! Did she not realize how dangerous this was? 

“Have you lost your mind? The both of you? She’s not going!” Rangi couldn’t believe she had to say those words aloud.

“Are you going against your Avatar’s wishes?” Yun grinned at her, his tone was joking. He didn’t mean it. But it hit Rangi like she’d been run over by a komodo rhino. Because that’s exactly what she was doing. She was disobeying the Avatar, to keep the girl she was in love with from harm. “Calm down, it’ll be good to have her there.”

“Good for who?” Rangi groused. He was being selfish again, thinking only of himself and not Kyoshi’s well being. No she couldn’t assume that! He was the Avatar. The Avatar was always well meaning. Maybe he just….didn’t realize the risk? Yes, that’s what it was. She just needed to talk some sense into him!

She pressed a fist to her forehead and sighed. Then she glared at Yun and grabbed his sleeve. “We’re talking about this later. Right now, I’m taking you back to your training!”

She started to pull her charge towards the door.

“Gah! Rangi! Wait!” Yun bemoaned. 

Rangi practically threw the Avatar through the doorway in front of her, and then stopped with her hand on the doorframe. She looked back at Kyoshi. Kyoshi sat there with the same calm and beautiful, silent strength she knew the girl possessed. She didn’t want to see it destroyed by some daofei. She wanted her protected. She hated the idea of some dumb bullies harming the girl, but if that pirate laid a hand on her-!

Rangi gripped the doorframe slightly. She looked around the room, trying to find something for Kyoshi to do. “And you-! Clean-no. Just. Gah. Do whatever you were doing!”

Apparently she couldn’t find anything. So she just slammed the door behind her.

____________

Rangi was greeted by Kyoshi with a scream to the face. 

“I’m sorry,” Kyoshi gasped, looking sincerely apologetic. “You surprised me!”

Rangi began walking, indicating for Kyoshi to follow her. She would escort her to the next destination.

Rangi didn’t mind Kyoshi screaming like that, partially because it wasn’t the first time this had happened. In all honesty, Rangi brought it on herself, sometimes she was too stealthy……or Kyoshi was too absentminded. Another reason why she shouldn’t come.

Rangi seethed inside her head. Yun wasn’t listening to reason. He had it in his head that Kyoshi needed to come along. To remind him of the little people he was doing it all for. 

What a load of bull cow crap! He should be able to see that with the servants that work here every day! Or the villagers he sees when he sneaks a peak over the wall! He didn’t need to drag Kyoshi into it!

Kyoshi had already suffered enough growing up. At least, from what Aunti Mui had let slip to her about Kyoshi’s life before the mansion. Kyoshi didn’t need to be put into peril again, and she most certainly didn’t need to suffer an agonizing death at the hands of some daofei!

She just wanted Kyoshi to live a long and healthy life. But she couldn’t do that if she was dead!

Rangi looked up and realized they were somewhere in the garden. She didn’t notice how she got there, when they got there, nor cared. 

An idea passed through her head. If she couldn’t convince Yun, maybe she could convince Kyoshi.

“Kyoshi,” Rangi started, breaking the silence. She saw Kyoshi flinch out of the corner of her eye.

“Y-yes?” 

“You aren’t going,” Rangi said. Rangi tried to say it with a finality. Try to push Kyoshi into the same mindset as her. Whatever it would take to keep her safe.

Kyoshi sighed. “I don’t think I have a choice, Rangi. It’s a special request from the Avatar.”

Rangi stopped walking and turned to glare at Kyoshi. “Of course you have a choice! You just have to tell him you don’t want to! Just tell him ‘no,’ Kyoshi!”

Please, just for once. Don’t think of him. Don’t give in to him. Just tell him ‘no.’ Rangi sobbed internally. Lately, she couldn’t stop the thoughts she’d usually fought to ignore from bubbling to the surface. 

Kyoshi raised an eyebrow and gave her a joking smile. “And disobey the Avatar?”

Rangi stiffened. Yes. That’s exactly what she wanted. Every time she brought it up, it was another hit to her honor. Disobeying her honorbound duty. Each time she tried to find an excuse, to cover up her own horrid act and shame. “It’s not ‘disobeying’ if he gave you an option in the first place, right?”

“I don’t mind though,” Kyoshi said, smiling at Rangi. The same smile and expression she would make whenever she’d come home with dirty clothes and poorly covered bruises. When the other village teens had roughed her up or thrown mud and rocks at her. Rangi knew Kyoshi was lying, and it was making her sick to her stomach.

Kyoshi got closer to Rangi and whispered. “Plus he practically begged me. How could I say no?”

Rangi’s eyes widened. Is that it? Is that all? All Yun had to do was beg Kyoshi and he had her? A simple plea and she’d willingly give herself over?

Nausea started to take over and Rangi started feeling dizzy. It wasn’t fair. People took advantage of Kyoshi’s kind nature so often. And now she was marching herself to an executioner's block to unknowingly stroke Yun’s ego.

Rangi couldn’t have that. If she must, she’d stoop as low as those worms!

She saw Kyoshi had started walking and grabbed the girl by the arm, pulling her back.

“Then what about me, huh?” Rangi got in Kyoshi’s face. Her space. Trying to take up as much residency in Kyoshi’s being as possible. She only wanted the other girl to see her, only her, no one else. “What if I begged? What if I begged you not to come along? What would you do then?”

Would you afford me the same treatment as Yun? Would you give yourself to me too? Do I want you to? 

Rangi shook Kyoshi’s arm once and let her stoic mask crumple. She wanted Kyoshi to know how she truly felt. She wanted Kyoshi to realize someone cared about her. Wanted her to be safe. Not to run into danger because of some misguided duty. 

Rangi shook her arm again. “Please. Kyoshi, please don’t come with us,” she begged again. She’d beg as many times as it would take. 

Rangi watched as Kyoshi bit her lip and held the package she was holding tighter to her being. Recoiling from Rangi. 

She watched as Kyoshi went to form the words “I’m sorry” from her lips, before they got caught by the heat Rangi had started to form around them.

Rangi realized she couldn’t make Kyoshi do anything. Even Yun couldn’t make her do anything. Kyoshi was doing this because she chose to. Just like how she’d actively choose to not defend herself against her own bullies. 

Rangi was a fool, an idiot, to not see it before. Kyoshi had chosen and was doing what she wanted to do. In doing so, Rangi realized Kyoshi had also chosen Yun over her.

Rangi grimaced and released Kyoshi. “Forget it,” she said in defeat, as she walked away. If she couldn’t stop Kyoshi from going with them, then she’d need to find a way to protect her.

_____

A/N:Me: Rangi’s side is more serious! You need to treat it more seriously!Also me: Ok she’s kind of a loser, gotcha. TT0TT

 I love high blood pressure!Rangi, I love gremlin!Rangi. But lovesick!Rangi? Hmmm yes! *throws all three in a blender to mix them up* uwu

[freshlyrage]

Running Like Water

Chapter 27

what's playing: I'm Not in Love by 10cc

pairing: Javier Peña x OFC (written as xReader)

fic warnings: NSFW Explicit Smut (18+ MDNI) language, strained family relationships, mentions of drug abuse, discussions of insecurities and body image issues, daddy and mommy issues

fic tags: Best friends younger sister, Life-long crush, Friends to lovers, Unrequited love, slow burn, Push and Pull, Small Town Dynamics, Secret Relationships, latina MC, Fluff and Angst, OFC!Jessica Alba face claim, sorry Lorraine I'm bringing you into this, Time jumps, 2 year age gap, pre-canon

word count: 4k

IMPORTANT a/n: Can you tell I'm out of a 5 month long depressive episode? LOL. Feeling motivative and creative. See you soon. Ask me questions!

December 1989

“So you don’t want to have sex anymore?” 

You pull your skirt up your legs, zipping it and spinning it back in place. You shoot a glance over your shoulder at the man nude on his headboard-less bed with a face of disgust. “No. I’m okay with having sex, I’m just like not looking to make you breakfast and prance around your living room in your shirts or whatever.” You shrug, pulling on your blouse and tiptoeing to your kitten heels. 

He scoffs, “That's what all women say, they usually mean the complete opposite. I’m not stupid Andrea.” 

You giggle, “I am not all women. I’m just not interested in a relationship, we both made that clear when we started fucking.” Back in October when he placed his large hand on the open belly of your cowgirl costume and it was the right amount of warmth at the right time. Your co-worker Jaya shot you a thumbs up from across the club and you stumbled out onto the brisk streets of Soho. “You never seemed to be interested in me being your girlfriend until this conversation.”

Christian stands to his feet, nude and you’re getting that clarity you get after having sex with a man that isn’t–well. You scurry towards your discarded coat on his lazy boy. You have got to stop fucking men in finance, their homes are like poorly decorated castles. Maybe he does need a damn girlfriend. “You fucking city girls and your backwards ways of thinking. You’ll never have the life you want with this attitude.”

You shoot him a glance and cackle loudly. “Please, I lived in Texas most of my life there is no city girl in me. I am just a girl who knows what she wants, you’ll find us anywhere you go.” You sling your purse over your shoulder, you know your toes are going to freeze off on your way to the subway. You’re not fully acclimated to the bitter cold of New York City yet but you make it work.

You made the move abruptly after learning they were cutting the pay of non-tenured teachers fifteen percent. The second you found out your colleague Jaya Sandros was taking a recertification exam to teach in New York City, you packed up your birds and made the big move. Of course your mother cried on the phone asking if it was her coldness that made you seek the cold elsewhere but truthfully it had nothing to do with her. You were nearly over being angry with your mother, you knew that she was only growing older and you might die if you continued to be so angry and sad all the time. 

You also knew that the decision to move to New Orleans was a Javier-adjacent decision which is what you called those things these days. A decision made because it reminded you of him. And although you weren't truly over him you decided that it was time to strip yourselves of things that reminded you of the past. 

When the cold approached you the very first time just a month ago you sat on your couch with your birds in tears. You wanted to call him so badly this thanksgiving. You wanted to tell him that you forgive him, that you aren’t angry anymore, that you understand the betrayal he’s gone through. Thank god for your therapist. You knew he probably won't be celebrating Thanksgiving in Colombia but you hoped he ate something good, you hoped he wasn’t alone like you were. 

Although you weren’t as alone as you were in New Orleans.

Life was more vibrant in New York. You had a solid group of friends, a night life, a work life and a sex life. You smiled nearly everyday, hosted wine nights and got your nails done. 

“You don’t know what you want Andrea. You told me the second time we had sex that this is your fourth state in 6 years!”

You look at him once more and fight the urge to laugh again. “Bye Chris. Lose my number.” You say as you slam the door behind you and wobble down the steps of his brownstone. 

“So you broke up?” Jaya leans over the break room table with her Best Teacher Ever mug. She taught Chemistry three periods a day, Environmental twice and tutored earth science on the weekends. 

“I guess? I mean he was never my boyfriend. The sex was mediocre but you know I got what I wanted. When did men become such softies?” 

Jaya giggles, “The eighties are coming to an end. Maybe we’ve got to start dating older.” The two of you laugh and clink your mugs. Forty more minutes of peace before your ninth grade US History course, those kids were rowdy. 

“Maybe, ugh– he did that thing when he ate me out. Like he’d look up at me and be like, is this good? Just ew.” You cringe, shaking your head. Jaya does just the same. 

“Like god we’re pushing thirty, if you have to ask me if your head is good just kill me.” She places her mug down and reaches in her bag for another packet of sugar. You shoot her a glance, and she flips you off. She might be the biggest sugar addict you know. Every night out ends with her dragging you to the twenty-four hour bakery around the block from your house. “My ex was absolutely terrible at it. He was thirty. My boyfriend now though… It’s like he was put on this earth for it.”

You nod and you can't help it. “Javier was the same. Amazing at it, and he’d never complain. Unfortunately he was good at everything, sometimes I’d be like, Who the fuck taught you all of this. Then I’d get jealous because it was all from years of practice. Stupid.” Eyes glancing at your lap. Even if he’s over you and is okay with never seeing you again, you would pathetically still ask for just one more night. Jaya knew all the details, in some ways she was your best friend–well, she is your best friend. You spend every weekend together if she isn’t taking the metro-north to see her short-distance boyfriend who lives in Yonkers. She understands and doesn’t make you feel bad when you talk about him because she does just the same. Her shitty ex boyfriend Henry Donovan was the topic of discussion all the time. You couldn’t believe she stayed with that freak for seven years. Fuck it, you lean over in a whisper. “One night like 3 months ago, I was so horny I almost called him. Like just wanted to call and be like, hey, I know we left on the worst terms ever but let me hear your voice so I can touch myself. I was that desperate.” 

Jaya’s eyes widened and her grin grew ear to ear. The two of you had gotten so close nearly no dirty confession was off the table. “That's so hot. Do you think he’d do it?” 

You smirk, “Yeah probably. I mean I don’t think he would be able to resist. Even if he moved on or whatever-”

“He hasn’t but continued. No man would be able to.”

You roll your eyes, “I’m not like some sex goddess-” Jaya makes a loud buzzer noise. “But! He worshiped me, in more ways than one so…” You voice fades and your head goes to that place that makes your stomach pit and ruins your day. When you realize he isn’t waiting for you, when you realize he’s so far. When you realize how deeply he was hurt by Lorraine. How his decision to never see you again hurt you. “Yeah, it was always good.”

Jaya allowed for some silence. Nodding and sipping her coffee. “Well, maybe it was so good because you two loved each other so much. Randy and I tried anal last month and it was great! He was so caring and gentle and-”

“What!?” Your eyes popped and Jaya waved a hand in your face. 

“Oh please don’t act like you’ve never tried it. Hearing your sex stories with Javier–”

“Lower your voice, I mean once he ate me–”

“See!” She whisper yelled. “All young modern metropolitan women try anal.” 

Your face turned bright red and your face dropped to your hands in a giggle.

Summer 1986

When Javier left your room the next morning you decided you needed a break from being yourself. You sat at the headboard of your bed and attempted to console yourself the way you did as a child. You missed him already, missed the way he held your head when you were sad. You even rubbed the bee earrings in your ear a few times, cried more and shut your eyes. 

You have to go away. Be alone, move somewhere far. You wouldn’t be able to bear encountering him in town once in a while, you couldn’t. Despite the sadistic mentality you’ve developed with your own mind and body, you couldn’t do that.

 It was 3 pm when you finally left your room. Eyes swollen from the tears you let out once he snuck away. You make your presence known with dragging feet. Your baby sister in her play pen, gnawing at her fist with puff snacks. Your mother was at her designated chair at the counter. Taking notes in her blue little financing book, preformative glasses low on her bridge. She takes one look at you and tenses with a frown. You see it then, in her eyes. Her urge to ask you a question you don’t want to answer. You decided that maybe you should never speak to anyone ever again.

 “Why did Javier leave your room this morning?” She places her pen down with a click. You don’t feel the stomach turning anxiety you would have once felt at a question like this. None of it mattered anymore. So you shrugged and opened the fridge.

“Javier was my boyfriend. We broke up last night.” You deadpan, silencing the room. There goes your big moment. All the hiding and whispers, maybe this was the only way to tell her. You served yourself a bowl of cereal. You look back at your mother and her lips were drawn in a small line, her eyes concerned. 

“But he’s getting married to Lorraine…”

You almost want to laugh, of course. “So you knew, nice.” You open the cabinet taking a spoon and pull out the stool with a tug of your socked foot, sitting across from her.

“I-Mrs. Smithfield called me with the news yesterday, she asked if she could use the things I bought for Frankies wedding. Did Javier cheat on you–?”

Spoon swirling the milk turned pink. You really couldn’t believe you were having this conversation. You couldnt believe your mother was planning your ex-boyfriend's wedding. You can’t believe it's over. You couldn’t believe you were cried out. You never want to see him again, you couldn't do that to yourself. “No. She’s apparently been pregnant since before we started dating so… I don’t really want to explain myself any more. I’m going to take some time alone for a while. I’ll be moving out by the way, so don’t worry about that anymore.”

Your mother frowned, “You know, I didn’t really mean it when I asked you to leave. I was just so angry with the fact that you wanted to see your father.”

You felt like an exposed nerve, like screaming and shattering your bowl. Feeling the urge to regress to your habits you formed once Javier left you the first time. Your mother, your most sensitive trigger, pushing your buttons. You hold your breath, counting to ten before you speak. “I want access to my trust. I’m leaving Texas, I want to start over.”

“Are you sure?”

You nod, “Yes. I’ll go to the wedding, I know you're wondering. But after that I want to be on the road.” You know you have to be there. You have to see it happen, maybe it’ll force you to move on. You always found strange ways of harming yourself. Being destructive in your own little way. Suddenly you aren’t hungry anymore. You stand from the stool, giving your mother one last glance. “I’ll be in the room if you need me.”

You rarely leave the place for four days. You hear people come in and out of the house. 

On Tuesday you swear you hear Mr. Smithfield’s voice. You know it’s him because once you look out your window you see your mother holding table cloth and folding chairs.  You lay back in bed and try to sleep.

By wednesday no one had come to visit you. It's not like you had many people but Javi. You wonder if he has touched her belly yet, if he’ll rub those creams on it so that she doesn’t stretch. If his eyes will go tender whispering to his little baby. If that love he feels for his baby will turn into real love for Lorraine herself. Doing the most selfless act of motherhood. 

Thursday your bedroom door is opened by Genie. It’s like 1980 all over again. This time she’s in a loose dress, her belly barely visible in the material. She tiptoes over your piles of clothes you’ve folded in preparation to leave. Just six days before she was sitting on your bed waiting to become your sister in law. Now she approaches you slowly like you're made of glass. You smile upon her arrival but she can’t seem to give you one back. She crosses her arms and scans the room. Seeing that you have picked apart the place to head on the road.

“So you’re leaving?” She sounds cold and you shrug. 

“Yes.”

“Have you considered me or your brother in this decision?” She’s upset with you. You were upset with everything so you suppose you’re even. 

“I can’t be here anymore.”

Genie sighs, “I would like to have heard it from you and not a frantic visit from your mother. Which by the way was very off guard, we were having sex when she came pounding on the door.” 

You snicker, fidgeting with the loose thread at the hem of your sleep shorts. “I was going to visit the two of you. I just didn’t– I don’t have it in me to tell Frankie. To make him hate me or-or hate Javier. I just wanted to be alone for a bit.”

“Well he knows now! He isn’t even mad, he’s just sad for the both of you. He’s really sad for you Andrea. He loves you so much.”

Your eyes dropped to your lap and your chin began to quiver because strangely you miss him too. “He’s not mad that we lied to him?”

“No. He isn’t. He knows he was a hard ass about you and Javi. He knew he wuld have to get over it eventually but he didn’t want this to the be the circumstances. He wasn’t even given the opportunity to be all protective.” She shrugs, sitting down on your bed. Her hand covers yours, forcing you to quit fidgeting. “He also really dislikes Lorraine so he was more preoccupied that she’ll be around us forever.”

You laugh through tears this time. Your brother always made a face when she was mentioned. Especially when Genie suggested that she be invited to the wedding. 

She cheated on my absolute stud of a best friend. I’ll never like that girl. 

You sigh and lean your head against Genie. For a while the two of you are nothing but two sisters missing each other before you’re gone. Sharing years together, growing up and moving on was a part of it all. You know she isn’t angry, you know she loves you too much to watch you go, again. 

“I think the universe has been telling me and Javier to not be together for a long time but we have been too stubborn to care.”

She sucks her teeth and you feel her head shake. “Nah. I just think the time has always been wrong. The circumstances too. If this whole pregnancy thing didn’t happen he’d still be on a plane in a few months to a whole other country. You’d be left just as broken.”

“We had a plan.”

“Did you?”

You exhale audibly, “No–not really.” 

“I don’t know…you’ll find each other somehow. Maybe she’ll cheat on the man again.” She jokes and you giggle alongside her. This was all fucked and all you could do is laugh. “I’m sorry for seeming so angry when I came in. You deserve to be on your own, find yourself out of this fucking town.”

“I’ll visit. I’ll be back for the labor, trust me.”

“Yeah bitch you better!”

“I’ll be there anytime you need me.”

“Pfft, unless you move to like fucking New York.”

“Oh god never. Don’t think I can keep up. I was thinking about Louisiana. Far enough to know no one, close enough to drive if needed.” 

“Good, that would be great for you. When do you think you’re leaving?”

“After the wedding, like maybe the next day.”

“Why not before, say fuck it and just rip the bandaid.”

You frown, “Well I’m going to the wedding obviously.”

Genie completely parts her body from your own and stares at you all confused.

“Why in the world would you go watch your ex boyfriend get married?”

You sit up straight, your eyes darting to the picture on New Year’s 1980.

 “Because everyone will be there, because he’s my best friend, because maybe if I see it, it'll be real.”

“Oh, hello.” Javier moves out of the way of his front door and allows Lorraine in. She rubs her stomach and walks straight to his bedroom. Javier furrows his brows and looks around the house in confusion before following her. “Is everything okay?”

 His air conditioning is blasting and she exhales. Ripping off her shoes and laying in his bed and it all feels so wrong. He only spoke to her a few times over the phone since the day he found out. The conversations mostly contained plans of what their lives would look like. He had nodded off and agreed to it all because truly he wasn’t sure if he was in his own body. He agreed to asking for a family extension until after she gave birth. So that it gave her more time to be supported with their child before he leaves for Colombia. He agreed to look at rentals in the area. He agreed and agreed. 

He felt like himself a few nights ago when he told Chucho that it was you that he had been seeing. His father frowned so deeply Javier feared this would be the first time ever he would raise a hand to him. If he had he wouldn’t fight it, he would have asked for more. Maybe then he’ll feel truly punished for it all. Instead Don Chucho dropped his head. That was when he told him that he spoke to Melissa and she said you were leaving- moving away. That's when Javier felt like himself again. Chucho rubbed his back while he cried into the crook of his arm. 

Nothing could change his reality. So there she was, his ex-girlfriend, soon to be wife, in his bed. “The air isn’t working in my room. And I weirdly feel so… pregnant. I’m so glad I’ll be further along when it’s cooler out. God, my back hurts.”

Javier stood at the door, unsure on how to be–any help at all. “When will it be fixed?”

She throws her arm over her forehead and exhales. “Huh. Monday probably, could I stay here? It just isn’t good-”

“For the baby. Yeah of course. Do you need anything or-”

“Will you come here?” She lifts her arm to look at him. He obeys despite all of it feeling wrong. Javier sits at the foot of the bed. “Are you nervous?”

He furrows his brow and tilts his head, before realizing what she’s asking. “I’m just trying to catch up with my brain. I’m doubting that we will be good parents, I mean I know that you’ll be a great mother, and maybe I can be a good father but me and you…we’re explosive and incompatible. We never worked, I’m afraid all of this would be damaging for the-our baby.”

Javier is himself for that moment.

She sighs and flips her body over and away from him. Obviously annoyed with him being reasonable. There's some silence and then sniffling. Javier’s brows shoot up, his chest hurting. What man is immune to a woman's tears?

“Sorry. I’m just hormonal. Conversations like this just stress me and the baby out.”

He feels a panic climb up his throat and there he is at her aid. Afraid to hurt someone so delicate, he’s done enough of that. He rubs her back in slow motions while she cries and he’s feeling a guilt that's all consuming. “Hey… I’m sorry. I don't want to stress the two of you out. Let's… be angry at me tomorrow.”

She nods, wiping her tears. 

“Can we get a slurpee? It’ll make me feel better.” She whines and Javier feels like a dick for being a bit annoyed. Shouldn’t fathers feel more sincere, biologically? He can't seem to find the connection yet but he just blames it on the circumstance. 

But he nods against her shoulder anyway and they head to the grocery store in an act too domestic to swallow just yet.

In the hours you spent walking around town to get some sort of fresh air your walkman became ridiculously handy. The Original Soundtrack by 10cc was your choice this time. In a tank top and shorts like always you made your way through town with very few hellos from locals, it almost feels like they all knew you were depressed. You decided you needed air after Genie left. The two of you stayed talking until she jumped to her feet realizing she had an appointment in her salon at 4:30 and it was 4. You accepted her apologies and hugged. 

You found yourself slipping on your sneakers at 6 pm, when the sun was still high yet threatening to set. You wanted to be outside when it did. Sit somewhere and just listen to the bullfrogs and flies. Appreciate the sounds of home a few more times. You let your hair down just because around this time there's the slightest imitation of a breeze.

You walk down the hill, passing the small path that leads to your lake. Set sights on the bench you and Frankie ate ice cream at. Ice Cream from the shop that Genie’s family ran. You almost wish you took your bike with you but when you were reminded of its existence it was too late to go back. You stopped in at your mother's boutique, knowing she was home today. Greeting the seventeen year old girl who managed the place on Thursday nights. 

Right when a drop of sweat trickled low on your back you decided to make a left at the end of mainstreet and trek the sidewalk-less road that led to the only 7/11 in a 20 mile radius. It was bigger than most 7/11’s you’ve been to. Acted as a grocery store for a lot of truckers that found themselves in Laredo.  With your music on blast, you barely hear the bell chimes when you walk in.

I’m Not In Love by 10cc crowding your ears while you wave at the cashier. Slowly walking down each aisle, figuring whether you had a sweet tooth or could do for some lays chips. You shift your weight from foot to foot, along with the song. Finding freedom and peace in solitude. You decide on a kit-kat bar. You grab the share size and walk out to the freezers, opening the door just to feel some cool air for a second. You shut your eyes for a moment before grabbing a water.

As you close the door your view is clear. Lorraine and Javier walking toward the slurpee machine, his hand on her lower back. It drops when she begins to make her own drink with her back facing you. He turns, scratching the back of his neck and if you just move he will never see you. But he looks so different, sullen and tired.

And you can’t help but stare. 

His eyes finally meet yours and both of yours simultaneously widen and furrow. His furrowing and yours widening. Being caught. He looks at you tenderly, like he’s urging to take a step forward, urging to say hello. 

Your eyes cast to the floor and you pretend you have not seen him at all.

[jessicafangirl]

The First Chapter of My Ghost Fic is here!

Please be kind. I've not written anything for this group before but god damn do I love Copia and this idea hit me and I decided to do it.

I'm a wordy bitch. You've been warned. You can also read this on Archive Of Our Own here

@nequissimus-canis asked to be tagged which was very kind. This is also dedicated to @foxybouquet who I blame for so many amazing things that I've learned and who enables me beautifully. You are my fave Ghestie.

Music Eternal, Fire Infernal.

Jennifer Travers is at the tail end of 40 and decides to do something spontaneous. Unfortunately things REALLY don't go as planned. Her life is in now in danger and the only place of refuge is a satanic church. She knew the band Ghost already, but she didn't know until that day that all of it was real and it would lead to something that would change her life forever, in more ways than one. And it would lead to some revelations for Copia Emeritus too.

Chapter 1

“The cemetery here is close to 300 years old. It contains some interesting residence that have a history that will send a shiver down your spine.” The tour guide’s Maglite flashed along the path and caught one or two of the “residence” headstones as he droned on in a bored monotone. As the group walked through the dark, Jennifer realized this was not one of her best ideas. Her breath was visible as she huddled in her hoodie. Let’s go on the spooky ooky tour, she thought to herself. Let’s troll through an old graveyard at night. Hey there’s a satanic church nearby…what could go wrong? All of that sounded great on paper but the reality was really kind of fucking miserable. This guy knew literally nothing about what he was talking about. Jen could have done a better job…not that that would have been hard.

She sighed and tightened the straps on her backpack. At 47 walking while carrying a backpack weighted down by her Switch, iPad, and clothes was not as easy as it used to be. But she wanted to travel light. This trip was something she’d promised herself for a while. After the year she’d had, a spur of the moment trip to the east coast to visit some of the older and creepier parts of the country was something she decided to do. She shoved some things into her bag and hopped on a plane. And now here she was probably going to break her leg because she decided to take a night tour like a moron.

It was pretty though, she had to admit as she and the four other suckers crunched through dead leaves. Very Universal Horror. She could almost see Dwight Frye and Colin Clive digging up one of those old graves if she squinted right. In the distance she could see the large, sprawling church that looked like it belonged in Romania and not in New York State. The guide had said that the Ghost project was in residence. When he’d said that it had cemented her decision to go on this insane tour just in case she could catch a glimpse of the band. She’d loved their music and the whole mystique but hadn’t realized it was a REAL church of Satan until…well…there was the church. She’d never seen a concert in person either, but the videos she’d caught online were interesting. The current lead singer was apparently a sweetheart for a satanic pope. She could hear her elderly, right wing mother screeching about how just having that thought was going to send her to hell. God knew the list her family had was already long enough for what was wrong with her, what was one more thing.

Jen realized she’d lagged behind as she’d kept looking up at the church and hurried to catch up. Even though the guide wasn’t the best he had a flashlight, and she had no freaking idea where anything was around there. That extra 20 pounds she wanted to always lose was felt hard as she rejoined the group. “The church you see is of course part of the Satanic Church of Emeritus. I’m sure some of you are fans of the band Ghost and if you aren’t you can find out information about the church and the band through this website…” The tour guide literally rambled off a web address and Jen raised an eyebrow. Were they supposed to write that down in the dead of night?

They kept walking and the guide led them into another area of the cemetery, this one with large tombs and statues spread out along the grounds. This was obviously the more well to do section and Jennifer was awestruck by how beautiful it was, even if it was slightly crumbling. The moon was shining down brightly now, full and clear, so she could walk without too much risk of falling on her ass as she was want to do. Her Converse sneakers weren’t really made for uneven ground, but so far, she was doing okay. As the tour guide rambled on Jen pulled out her iPhone and started taking some pictures of the statues. The one of the grim reaper was wonderfully gothic and even had a skull carved inside the stone robes that made it up. She headed over to another area where the largest crypt sat with a giant letter E carved over an archway entrance that had rose bushes on either side. They were old bushes that had grown nearly as tall as the entrance. The flowers were large, red, and smelled amazing. She loved roses but even she was surprised at how big the thorns were on those plants. It was almost like they were there not for the flowers but for some sort of deterrent to keep people from trying to get in or maybe even vandalize the tomb. When she leaned over to take a whiff of one blood red bud, she noticed the sharp little daggers were half an inch long and nearly that thick.

Jen took a picture of the entrance, her eyes taking in more of the designs that could be seen in the stonework not covered by the plants. Sigils…inverted crosses…pentagrams and peeking down from the roof were even a couple of gargoyles. Ah…yeah…satanic church. She slipped her phone into her back pocked of her jeans and ran her fingers through her short red hair, cracking her stiffening neck and realized she should get back to the group. According to her phone and watch it was nearly midnight.

But when she turned around, she realized the boring tour guide and the tiny group were gone. “Did that dip wad just leave me?” She said aloud. God, he really did suck. She headed back the way she came and sure enough the cemetery was empty save for the graves and her. “Well…this is the start of every god damn horror movie I’ve ever seen.” She mumbled to herself. Jen realized she’d been doing that a lot more over the last year or so. But now it was getting to be a habit. Being alone so much you just sort of did it, maybe to remind yourself you had a voice.

With a heavy sigh she took out her phone and checked the battery. She was still at a good 80 percent, but the bad news was her cell service was nowhere to be found. “And now, your life as directed by Wes Craven.” She spoke. “Fuckery doo…okay…” She looked up and was thankful that the moon was still pretty bright. With a heavy sigh she headed out of the graveyard. Jennifer headed towards the direction she was fairly certain they had come from. There was…sort of a path through the trees. The starting point was down towards the bottom of the heavily treed hill where a parking lot sat, not really used. She’d been brought there by a van for the tour. If that ass left in the van before she got down, there she was going to set fire to something. Probably the van if she found it again with the idiot inside.

About twenty mins of walking later she crossed her arms in front of herself realizing her KISS Destroyer hoodie wasn’t near enough of a layer over her thin t-shirt. She was also realizing she was well and truly lost. “If I hear Ki ki ki ma ma ma at any moment I will crap myself.” She said through slightly chattering teeth. The moon decided it had done enough work for her and was now covered in black, oppressive clouds. Jen pulled her phone out and turned on the flashlight. Still no signal. She pondered what she’d done to piss off the universe. She came to a steep downgrade and carefully picked her way down. Luckily it wasn’t too bad for too long and evened out. Unfortunately it led to a thick patch of trees. Jen started praying to whoever was listening that there were no ticks or spiders around. Then she wanted to punch her own face for even thinking about ticks and spiders.

The phones light was barely helping due to the canopy of leaves and how close together everything was. After another few minutes though she heard something. It sounded like talking, movement. This didn’t look like it was near the parking lot though. Did lumberjacks work this late? Was this even a place lumberjacks would be? That made her remember how Dexter wound up ending and she got momentarily depressed. Then she heard the voices again. Well, people was a good thing, right? In the middle of the night in the woods. Jen realized caution might be a good idea.

She headed towards the voices, keeping her camera pointed to the ground and discovered the woods thinned out a bit here. There, in a tiny patch of cleared ground three men stood and one man was on his knees, hands tied behind his back. Jen’s eyes got wide as she saw the large gun in one of the men’s hands. The man on his knees was crying. “I swear to god Donnie…I didn’t want to do it. But they had pictures. I couldn’t…” The man on his knees sobbed. He was balding and looked like he was in his 60s. His face even from this distance was bruised and bloody.

“Shut the fuck up.” The one who was Donnie she assumed spoke harshly, kicking the man in the stomach and making him double over. “I don’t give a god damn about pictures. You sold us out. We’ve got a fuck ton of problems now. But we’re about to have less of one.” He spit on the man’s face and nodded to the other man with the gun. He was tall, unemotional, with a face as blank as a robot. His eyes were so dark they could have been black. He calmly raised the gun and shot the man in the head once and then in the back for good measure. The man fell to the ground in a heap.

Jen hadn’t even had time to react it had all happened so fast but in that moment when it hit her she stepped away in shock and horror, her foot cracking a twig and flashing her phone up towards them, the fucking light like a beacon. The murderers turned and looked straight at her. The one with the gun raised it and fired, but it missed her. And that’s all Jen needed to find the inner strength to sprint back the way she’d come.

“Get that bitch.” Donnie told Blake, the man with the gun and his partner Gary. “I’ll take care of this trash. Hurry the fuck up.”

Gary nodded, straightening the glasses on his head. He and Blake quickly moved towards where the witness had been. There was no way there was anyone else around. This spot was used specifically because no one ever came down there. They weren’t quiet running through the brush and trees. There was no need to be.

Jennifer was running like she never had before. Small branches slapped at her face and arms, and she nearly tripped three times. In her head from far away she thought about every idiot teenage girl who had tripped and died she’d made fun of in a slasher movie. “Sorry…” she thought as she cried. The crying was a problem and something she couldn’t stop or had control of. It was making it harder to breathe and she needed to breathe to run. Running was important as she scrambled up the now incline, her fingers digging into the dirt to make sure she didn’t slide back down. Where the fuck could she go? What the shit was she supposed to do?

She’d shoved her phone back into her pocket, not wanting the light to attract the two killers on her tail. She didn’t have service anyway even if she had a second to call the cops. She didn’t know anyone here. She was alone and it was dark, and she was going to die.

She broke through another barrier of trees, and she knew she had gone a different way than she’d come at that point in her scramble to get away. Jen tried to breathe, to calm her heart, but she felt like she was going to have a stroke. She glanced to her right and then her left, and that’s when she saw it. There was a gate, black wrought iron and it was open. She ran to it and glanced beyond it and realized the path led into part of the Emeritus church. The sprawling building loomed large above her suddenly. Well…the devil or death? Which did she want? Right then the devil was looking good. Jennifer quickly made her way down the pathway. There were little black iron solar lights that lit the stone walkway which was thankfully flat. Her legs were burning as bad as her lungs at this point.

The path led to two metal doors and Jen realized she may still be screwed if they were locked. She skidded to a halt and took a chance to look behind her. There was no one yet…but that didn’t mean anything. She took another breath and said a little prayer…not sure who might be answering them where she was trying to get into and grabbed the door handle. That’s when she heard the sounds of footsteps from far away, voices murmuring low. “Please please please…” she begged and pulled on the door handle. It swung open. She didn’t hesitate, she went in and pulled the door closed behind her.

Jen’s wide blue eyes glanced around the dimly lit hallway she found herself in. The air smelled of incense. It was cool inside the building and the sweat that had broken out during her run immediately started to get chilled and she shivered from a combination of that and pure fear. Her adrenaline was pumping. The men would figure out there was only one place she could have gone. She needed to hide. She turned right and moved quickly hoping not to run into anyone. Jen entered through another set of double doors, these not metal but stained dark wood. So far, she’d not seen anyone else and for that she was grateful. She just needed to hide away somewhere and think, just calm down and think. Maybe the church was empty…maybe they were on tour or something…

The double doors led to a short hallway that opened into what could only be called a small chapel. Though instead of a cross or a Jesus crucifixion scene in front of the pews there was a large statue of a very beautiful devil. His wings looked like they were carved out of black stone, maybe ebony or onyx though that would be a lot of onyx. The rest of him was marble. His horns wrapped backwards on a head covered in carved ringlets of hair like a really majestic goat. There was real red velvet draped over the statue whose right arm was raised, two fingers extended. His other hand was outstretched as if beckoning you. Jen was unnerved as she looked at it, the chill on her skin seemingly growing. Then she heard a door slam, and it pulled her out of wherever her mind was going.

The room smelled even stronger of incense and was lit with black candles and a low light from a red and clear crystal chandelier that hung from the ceiling. There were pews, the pulpit area and over on the far right what looked like a small, dark wood confessional. That was the only place she could really try to hide in she saw. She glanced back once hoping it was just some friendly neighborhood satanist that had closed a door and then moved quickly to the confessional. She opened the door and closed it quickly, ignoring the seat and sitting on the floor. She drew her knees up to her chin and felt the tears on her cheeks again, not able to stop them. Jen tried to breathe quietly, tried to calm down. They’d hear her sounding like a dying elephant if she didn’t get this under control. And that’s when the divider slid open making her jerk.

A softly accented voice spoke through the partition “Hello…hi?”

Jen realized there was a priest or someone on the other side…oh shit she’d dragged someone into this. She whispered as low as she could, realizing that the man couldn’t see her where she was hunkered on the floor. “I’m..down here…please…I just need to hide.”

“Sorella…” The man’s voice took on a note of concern. She glanced up and saw an eye looking through the partition. It was white as the ivory of the statue. It widened in surprise. “What is the matter dolce signora?” He asked her.

Jen swallowed thickly; how much should she say? She needed to hide. This guy could just as easily say “Here she is boys. Hail Satan.” But for some reason his voice made her think he wouldn’t. “There are….men…they’re after me. Please I just need to hide until they leave…they’ve got a gun…maybe more than one.” She had to warn him.

She saw a bit more of his face then as he leaned closer to the divider. It was dark but she could see him more clearly as he appeared to be studying her. Jen recognized him as the paints on his face came into view, the green eye and the white. Holy crap this was the guy. This was the lead of the band. And he was taking confessions? What the hell would satanic confessions deal with? And good god this was all really happening to her. A wave of nausea came over her and she had to fight the bile coming up her throat.

“Signora, are you hurt? Have they harmed you?” He asked her gently.

Jennifer shook her head. “No…no…I just need to hide.”

She rested her forehead on her knees. Italian…he was speaking Italian mixed with English. That’s what the accent was. It just kept becoming more surreal. She remembered the accent from the concert videos. He didn’t have it when he sang. But he had it when he was talking to the audience.

She heard it then, the door opening to the chapel. Footsteps. Two sets of them. It was them. It had to be them. She saw the dual-colored eyes glance up at the sound and she started shaking. Well, this was it…spur of the moment decisions have led you to a satanic church and dying horribly. Great job girl. Here lies Jennifer Travers…she fucked up a lot. Only she wouldn’t have a tombstone, it would be a shallow grave in the woods where she’d end up feeding a group of feral badgers with her rotting corpse. Maybe they would be cute badgers. Fuck.

He looked back down at her. “Signora,” he whispered softly, “Stay here, do not make a noise, si?”

Jen nodded, realizing she was trusting a complete stranger with her life at this point. What else could she do?

Blake and Gary glanced around the chapel, starting to move through the pews, looking for where the woman could have gone. Blake glanced at the statue of Lucifer and paused, feeling like the thing was watching them. He knew what the place was, but he’d not been inside. Gary touched his shoulder and he nearly jumped. He pointed towards the confessional booth and nodded. They started heading that way when the door to the priests side opened.

Out stepped a man in black robes with gold and blue satin accents. Golden upside-down crosses where stitched into the fabric. He wasn’t tall, but he had a presence that was only made more intense by the fact his face was painted like a stylized skull. His brown hair was brushed back from his face, greying at the temples with thin lines on his face showing he wasn’t exactly a young man anymore. Blake was weirded out though by the eyes when he saw them. Ringed in the black makeup they were different colors. One green, one white, both of them staring at him and Gary in a way that made him as unnerved as the devil statue.

“Benvenuti Fratelli,” the man said, his black gloved hands raised, pressed together and giving a little bow. “I am Papa Emeritus the 4th…are you here for confession?” He asked them, one brow raised. “I was just getting ready to lock up for the night.”

Blake looked at Gary. Gary was the talker. He glanced at the strange man shaking his head. “No we’re not here to confess. We’re looking for someone. Anyone else come through this way? Anyone try to break in?”

Copia Emeritus lowered his hands while studying the two men in front of him. Something in them reeked of malice and he could sense it. It was part and parcel of being a Papa. You knew who to protect your flock from when you were in a church like theirs. He wouldn’t have needed to hear the terrified sorella in the confessional’s words to know these two were dangerous. He saw the bulky outline of the gun in a holster beneath the tall ones jacket. He’d seen enough crime films and series to know what to look for when it came to that too.

He pursed his lips. “It’s not really possible to break in here. All are welcome at our church.” Copia walked closer to the men, away from the hiding place of the woman and making sure their eyes followed him. “Even you signories if you wish to join us.”

Gary gave a cold smile. “We’re not really the church going type.” He replied.

Copia nodded, returning the smile with as much of a chilly demeanor as the man in front of him. “Well, that is too bad, si? Perhaps someday.” He gave a slight shrug. “But as I said, I am getting ready to lock up for the night.”

The double doors opened then, as if on cue and in walked three figures in all black, silver matching masks on their faces, each a devil with no eyes. One was bigger than the others but all three looked as though they could bench press a truck. Copia glanced over “Ah, tempismo perfetto.” He turned to the new arrivals. “These gentlemen were just leaving, would you be so kind as to as to show them out? Grazie.” With a graceful wave of his hand he motioned for the two men to head towards the doors.

Blake looked at Gary and Gary gave a subtle shake of his head. He knew she was here somewhere. There was nowhere else she could have gone. But they couldn’t do anything right now…there were too many people, and it would be too big a mess. And the silver masked figures were making the hair raise on the back of his neck. He moved and Blake followed him as they walked out. Gary turned to the painted faced freak. “We might stop back now that you mention it.”

Copia raised a brow. “Of course, as I said all are welcome. We’d love to have you.” He gave him another slight bow as they walked out into the hallway, the doors closing behind them, his smile making his face look even more skull like for a moment.

Gary narrowed his eyes, trying to ignore the weird feeling creeping up his spine at the entire group of freaks. Donnie wouldn’t be happy about losing the woman, but then again…he knew she wasn’t really lost. She was here somewhere in the freak house. He followed Blake and the three silver masked weirdos.

When the doors closed behind them Copia moved to slide the lock in place. He took a breath and let it out slowly. He hadn’t expected a confrontation like that tonight. Nor had he expected a frightened woman cowering in his confessional. He needed to find out what had happened, the whole story. And he needed to make sure the lady was okay.

Copia very slowly opened the door to the confessional area and saw her with her head laying on her knees still, shaking like a leaf. She looked up suddenly and he saw the tear streaks on her face. Her face has a few cuts and marks on it from dirt. Her knees and hands were covered in it as well. Her blue eyes were the color of the satin on his robes, but they were rimmed in red from her tears. They were wide and terrified as they looked up at him.

The Papa crouched down, taking a knee next to her and held out a gloved hand. “Cara, they are gone. You are safe here.” He said softly. She was scared and looked at any moment she’d try to bolt away. He couldn’t have her doing that since the safest place she could be right then was inside the church. “I’m Papa Emeritus the 4th….but you can call me Copia.” He gave her a small smile.

She didn’t seem to be convinced yet that she was actually safe with him. He noticed the front of her hoodie and gave a slight nod, his smile growing, “Ah, you are a fan of singers in makeup, si?”

Jennifer realized what he was talking about. The irony was actually funny as she took a breath and wiped her eyes. “Yeah…yes…I grew up listening to them.”

Copia nodded. “I did as well.” He decided this was working, get her mind on something else. “Who was your favorite cara?”

Jen found her breathing was getting easier. She wasn’t trying to gulp air into lungs that didn’t want to work. “Uh…I always liked The Starchild…but The Demon was great…he was a vampire first though.” Rattling off Kiss trivia…she’d nearly been shot, and she was talking about Gene Simmons and spewing blood.

The Papa nodded, “Well, due to my position I must go with The Demon as a personal favorite, eh? But The Starchild has a voice…” Here he placed two fingers to his lips and did an air kiss. “Bellissimo.”

Jennifer laughed…she actually laughed. Just another surreal experience in a night filled with them “I guess you would be team demon.”

“Si, I would.” He reached closer to her with his hand, “Cara, would you like to go somewhere more comfortable than the floor?”

She nodded then and he helped her to stand. Her legs were sore, and she was glad he offered her a helping hand. She nearly stumbled but he steadied her. “Sorry…I’m…I ran up the hill and it wasn’t great.” She let go of his hand and looked at her own, covered in dirt and cuts from clawing up it.

Copia saw the state of her more clearly now. It was obvious she’d been through an ordeal already. She was still shaking though she’d calmed down some. “I can imagine.” He said, “May I have your name?” He asked her.

“Jennifer…Jen…I’m…” She felt a little woozy. “I’m…okay…I think I may need to sit down.”

Copia took her arm. “Jennifer you are safe here as I said. We are a haven for those in need and trouble.” He led her over to one of the pews. “Here, allow me to take your bag.” Jen slid the straps off her shoulders and watched Copia place it next to her. She sat down on the cushioned seat.

Copia examined her a bit closer. She was pale, very pale. He realized whatever had happened she was going into or was already in shock. “Jennifer,” he said her name and she glanced up at him. “Can you tell me what happened?”

Jen wanted to tell him. She needed to tell someone and the nice guy in the skull make up was right there. But when she started thinking about it her lungs started to ache. “They…they killed…oh god they killed that guy…” She managed to get out.

Copia’s eyes widened. Oh Dark Lord…she’d witnessed a murder? “You saw this happen cara?” He asked, sitting down next to her.

She shook her head yes. “They shot him…twice. I…I couldn’t do anything it happened so fast.” She turned and looked at him. “They saw me and they…they shot at me. And I ran.” Her voice was breaking, she couldn’t breathe as the image of the man’s head basically exploding came to her unbidden. She was trembling so hard that she thought she was going to break apart. But she couldn’t stop it, she tried but she couldn’t.

Suddenly she stood up and started backing away from the nice satanist. She’d just told him what had happened. “I’m…I shouldn’t have…” She was rambling and Jen found herself growing dizzy. They’d want to kill him too now, right? She’d just signed this rock stars death warrant, hadn’t she? The nice devil guy with the pretty green eye. Oh god there were black spots in front of her.

Copia stood up and moved close to her. He’d been to enough concerts to tell when someone was about to collapse from heat exhaustion or something else. And right then she was having a hell of a panic attack, something he was personally familiar with. “Jennifer, you’re okay…it’s okay…” He moved closer to her slowly.

“No…no…not…okay…” Oh god, she couldn’t feel her legs. The blood rushed from her head, and she felt herself buckling. She started to hit the floor and felt arms catching her, heard the rustling of fabric as she was caught before she could. The scent of incense was stronger than before. She glanced up and through a haze she saw a skull staring down at her and three silver-headed demons. Before she blacked out completely, she realized…she felt safe.

TRANSLATIONS: Benvenuti Fratelli - Welcome Brothers Sorella - Sister Cara - Dear Si - Yes Signora - Lady

[nottawriter]

Fanfic Writer Questions!

Thanks for the tag, @fazedlight and @thatonebirdwrites

1- How many works do you have on AO3?

I have 16

2. What's your total AO3 word count?

356,960

3. What fandoms do you write for?

Supergirl – Arrowverse/ DC Comics: Primarily Supercorp, secondarily Dansen, Brainia, and J’M’zz, and I have one AgentReign with secondary Supercorp.

4. What are your top 5 fics by kudos?

PRIDE and Prejudice – Super gay retelling of Jane Austen’s classic. Every kudos equals $1.00US to a LGBTQIA2S charity I make at the conclusion of Pride month (June) each year (teen)

Tell Me It’s Not Too Late – Post-S4, Lillian believes Supergirl is responsible for Lex’s death. Lena rushes to J’onn’s for game night, to confront Kara on her identity, only to find she’s nowhere to be found (teen)

I Believe in a Thing Called Love – Full alternate Season 6 rewrite (teen)

Wouldn’t It Be Nice – 50 First Dates movie AU (teen)

How Lost We Are – Lena is placed by her Witness Protection team (Maggie, Kelly, and Lucy) in Midvale as a flower shop owner where she meets teacher Kara and coffee/bookshop owner Jess, among others (mature)

5. Do you respond to comments?

Yes, I do usually respond, though not always right away. I enjoy chatting about my fics, so don’t hesitate to ask questions, but I don’t give out spoilers though.  

6. What is the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

When She’s Gone, the Darkness Comes – Oof. It was so sad I had to write a second chapter. I much prefer happy endings (teen)

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

All of them have a happy ending of some kind, or they will once they’re completed. Though there are some with happy endings like Speak Now and Tis the Damn Season. Smut. I’m talking about smut (explicit)

8. Do you get hate on fics?

Yeah, though I’ve been mostly lucky. I don’t know why people leave hate on any fics really. If you don’t like something, close the tab.

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

Yes. It started as a small scene here or there when it was a natural progression of the fic, but now I occasionally right full smut fics and pwp like those found here (explicit)

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

Kind of, but the characters are all from within the Arrowverse/ DC Comics universes somewhere.

11. Have you ever had a fic stolen?

Not that I know of. I don't understand why someone would do this. Please respect writers.

12. Have you ever had a fic translated?

Yes. I Believe in a Thing Called Love is also in Spanish Creo en una cosa llamada amor (teen)

13. Have you ever co-written a fic before?

I’m currently working on one with @thatonebirdwrites, though it's not published. It’s a Supercorp fic where Kara is a building inspector and when she goes to inspect Lena’s home, she meets Lena’s daughter to tells her the floor is lava, so naturally Kara has to ensure that issue gets resolved.  

14. What's your all time favorite ship?

Supercorp. But I do love most wlw ships

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

I intent to finish all of my active WIPs. I have some WIP ideas that may or may not ever get going, but once I start a fic, I intend to finish it.

16. What are your writing strengths?

I have no idea… I guess easter egg type stuff or like blending canon into storylines. If your a reader and there's something you think is a strength I have, let me know.

17. What are your writing weaknesses?

Actually writing. Words be hard. And it's hard to find the time.

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

I do it sometimes, probably not well. I like to include the translation in the fic (unless the characters themselves aren’t supposed to understand until later). But I'm sure the translations aren't fully right as I only use google translate and the Kryptonian dictionary.

19. First fandom you wrote for?

Supercorp. I started writing fiction in Dec 2020. Before that it was all scientific research papers for uni.

20. Favorite fic you've written?

I suppose What Has Been Lost (Mature). It was what started this crazy adventure, has been the most challenging piece, and my longest (still ongoing). It truly blends lore and characters from across the Arrowverse and DC Comics into a human world and original storyline.

For Tags, if you'd like to participate: @fyonahmacnally @casualsavant @luthordamnvers @itsalliebitheway @innamorament0

[its-in-the-woods]

Chapter Two, Life's too Short

Chapter one <- if you missed it.

Cooper howard/The Ghoul x Lucy Maclean

Post end of season 1

No beta.. I tried to edit 🫠

Ninety five percent written just tweaking

⚠️ Warning ⚠️

There will be canonically typical violence and eventually smut

+18 only

Slow burn sorta kinda

Please be nice this my first fic in almost a decade 🫣

Will eventually post on AO3 once I can get access... or where suggested 🤷🏻‍♂️

They had made it to the outpost. An outpost that was okay with Ghouls anyway. Ghoul's kind wasn't accepted at many places, the whole going feral thing was a bit of an issue. The other issue was that Lucy drew a lot of attention. Even though Lucy had done her damnest to blend in the lack of scars, having all her teeth and most of her fingers was a dead giveaway. She made sure to keep herself close to the Ghoul as he walked into the village. There weren’t many eyes that weren’t looking at them. They made a hell of a sight, a genetically engineered dog, a pre-bomb Ghoul, and Vaultie. Sounded like a lame joke Chet would make back in the vault. 

A man stood up and moved towards them as they walked past him. The hair on the back of her neck stood up. Trouble. Her brain screamed to turn around. The Ghoul had already moved, his sawed-off pointed directly at the man, men, there were at least four of them. Lucy’s hand went to her gun holster and they paused. She desperately needed to start listening to those instincts.

“I don’t know whatcha boys are thinkin' of doin', but if you don’t wanna new hole in your meat suit I suggest you. Back. The. Fuck. Up.” Ghoul punctuated the last words with a clenched teeth grimace.  The man held the gun as if it were an extension of his arm. 

The whole place was silent, the scene from when Lucy had originally met the Ghoul played out in her mind. The whole place blasted to pieces in a matter of seconds. She knew the Ghoul had zero reservations about murdering anyone who even looked at him funny.

“We aren’t looking for any trouble” Lucy swallowed, part of her hating that she was always trying to look for solutions that didn’t end in blood. 

One of them gave a near-toothless grin. “Just wanted to say hello to such a fine little thing.” His voice made her skin crawl, as the man moved towards her. “Don’t see too many smooth-skinned Vaultdwellers around these parts.”

“I am sure you’d find a better company with us then,” Another man’s eyes roamed over the Ghoul, “Unless you're a Ghoulfcker.”

The Ghoul’s face tightened, and his finger went to the trigger-

“Wait, can we please not. I don’t want company. In fact, I would actually be really flattered if you just left us alone. Because this is going to get ugly fast” Lucy sighed out rubbing the bridge of her nose. The tension in the air could be cut with a knife. Part of her had already resigned to the fact that these men were dead.

The four men looked in between each other and then went to draw. The Ghoul blasted the closest two without a second thought. Lucy had pulled and hit the third, the fourth went to bail and Dogmeat had grabbed his calf. He screamed trying to beat the dog off. Lucy aimed at the same time as the Ghoul and brains went everywhere. A bloody mess, it always ended in a bloody mess. 

"Oh for fucksakes. I let the Ghouls in an suddenly everyone's getting blown away." Hollered an older woman from the second story of a building. She was a tall imposing figure with striking red hair streaked with grey. Her clothes where a patchwork of various materials, boot knee high leather of some kind. She looked at the two of them, the only ones left out in the open.

"Well, I will be damned. Is that fuckin Coop?" The women yelled, peering down at the Ghoul.

Coop? That's what the Ghoul's name was, Lucy felt like she had heard that somewhere before. Her mind went over the name a few times trying to place it. 

Coop tucked his shotgun back into its holster, a sly grin turning one corner of his lips up. "Guilty as charged, Tracy." 

The women came out from a lower door and walked up to them. Her face was lined with sun damage and her eyes were probably green once. But now they are more pastel grey. She poked the Ghoul in the chest with a gnarled finger. He chuckled at her, they clearly had met before. 

"I just started letting you radiation suckers back in two days ago. Why the fuck are you shooting up my paying customers?" Tracy gestured to the very dead men. "Who's gonna clean this up now?"

Coop chuckled, patting Tracy on the shoulder. "You and I both know that the roaches, irradiated or not, will have those bodies picked clean by morning."

The woman glowered at him, her hands on her hips. "Supposed you're right, but can we not shoot up anyone else?" She cussed some more and spit something on the ground.

"Well if your customers were more respectful to my companion here I wouldn't have to blow them away." 

The woman's eyes narrowed and she looked over at Lucy. Graying eyes or not, the woman looked as if she could read her thoughts. 

Lucy immediately extended her hand, "Hi, my name is Lucy. I am so sorry for shooting up the place. They did draw on us first." She left out her last name, something the Ghoul had mentioned. Always keep important information to yourself. 

The woman rolled her eyes, waving her hand dismissively. "One less asshole, well guess four. Come on, let's get you two rooms and some grub."

They followed after her, already people were starting to emerge to come to pick over the dead. Lucy tried to not think about the fact they'd probably end up as food for some of the dwellers.

***

Despite Tracy's sour appearance she seemed to be fond of the Ghoul Coop. Happily, giving them both good-sized plates of chicken and something that looked like potatoes? Whatever it was it tasted good and Lucy for the first time in over a week actually ate until she was full.

There was also water. Apparently, the settlement had a spring nearby that they used for drinking water. Tracy was more than happy to tell the tale of how Coop had liberated the well for the settlement. 

“Nothing much was left of the raiders once he came through. Got us clean water and a little peace and quiet. Well as much peace as you can in this waste.” The lady said, patting Coop on the arm.“He can be a pretty big pain in the ass most days. But if there are some caps and moonshine in it he's not bad.”

Coop chuckled, “I promise to only darken your doorstep when raiders are about.”

Tracy patted his arm, “Well let me not keep yah. I have a few rooms available. Lots of folks scattered when the brotherhood knight came by.”

“When did he come by?” Lucy asked, her heart beating in her chest. It was the first time she had spoken beside, ‘Yes Ma'am’ and ‘the food is good’ 

Tracy narrowed her eyes, “Two days ago I'd say. Stole a power core from a few Traders. Bastard. Why? Are you looking for him?”

Coop cleared his throat. “Something like that. He has some information we need.”

Tracy looked between both of them for a moment. Her eyes narrowed as if she was trying to figure out exactly what they were hinting at. 

“Mmhm. Well, he was heading east.” She fiddled with an old scar on her hand. “Do you want a room with one or two beds?”

“Two beds.” Both Lucy and Ghoul reply.

*Thank you for reading and all <3 are very appreciated. *

*Chapter three *

[thescrapwitch]

20 Questions for Fic Writers

Thank you @grey-gazania and @dreamingthroughthenoise for tagging me! Sorry for the very late reply!

1. How many works do you have on Ao3?

Currently, I have 63 works, though a few of them are on-going multichapter ones. If I narrowed it down to only complete fics, it would be 58. 

2. What’s your total Ao3 word count?

501,530 words!

3. What fandoms do you write for?

Currently the Silmarillion has me in a chokehold and I am having SO MUCH FUN putting tragic elves into all sorts of situations. There’s a lot of free space and flexibility in its canon which is fun to play around in, and so many AU possibilities. Before that I wrote for Linked Universe/Legend of Zelda, which had a large cast of characters whose found family/friendship dynamics had me hooked. 

(we shall not speak of what I wrote during my Fanficion.net days, back when I was very small and very terrible at writing 😛)

4. What are your top five fics by kudos?

Looking at all my fics, my Linked Universe ones have the most: Rescue Mission, Malevolence, Bad Joke, Untitled Goose Fic, and Weatherworn Heart. 

5. Do you respond to comments?

I try to! I adore comments and go back and reread them often, so I try to at least say thank you to people who’ve left one after reading my fics. 

6. What is the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

This is a tough one! I have a few Hurt/No Comfort ones (all focusing on poor Maedhros). I’ll go with Despair Like Poison, in which I find a way to make the beginning of the Silmarillion EVEN WORSE. Its based on a Tumblr post I made (which I now can't find????), and I might continue it, once I figure out exactly how dark/angsty I want it to get!

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

Probably Rest for the Weary and the Damned, the final fic in the main storyline for my Maglor is an Eldritch Horror series. After many problems, everyone gets to be together and live happily ever after, including everyone’s favorite eldritch monster.  

8. Do you get hate on fics?

No, but I don’t tend to write a lot of romance/ship-focused fics, so that could be why.

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

No, not my thing to write. 

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

Crossovers aren’t really my thing to write either. 

12. Have you ever had a fic translated?

I have! It's always such an honor when someone asks if they can translate my fic. 

13. Have you ever co-written a fic before?

No, though I do get a lot of inspiration from comments and side-discussions. Untitled Goose Fic happened because of a Discord discussion, and Trial of Crablor Feanorion was written because of a commentor’s remark about animal trials.  

14. What’s your all time favorite ship?

Silvergifting can be so much fun and so messed up and I love writing it. 

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

My poor Legend of Zelda 1920s AU fic is crying at me from the depths of my WIP pile. I am so sorry. One day, maybe, I will return to it, but I have so many other things that I want to write…

16. What are your writing strengths?

Dialogue, story structure, and weird stuff. Eldritch monsters, sentient houses that speak to you in nightmares, crabs who were once elves, dreamy-not-entirely-sane narration; those I feel like I can do well. 

17. What are your writing weaknesses?

Description! Specifically, description used to set up a place, to make the world around the characters feel more textured and real. I am trying to get better at it. 

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

I have enough typos writing in English, I do not have the confidence to try and write in anything else. The Tolkien fandom has a lot of languages and I’m always in awe of the people who can include them so well into their work.

19. First fandom you wrote for?

Megaman.EXE, way way back in the early days of Fanfiction.net, all of which has now been thankfully eaten by the internet. 

20. Favorite fic you’ve written?

I say it every time someone asks, but it has to be The Haunting of Imladris. That fic was a gift: it gave me a world to flesh out for my eldritch!Maglor series, it gave me confidence to write horror (which I’d never done before) and it gave me Lindir. I will always adore and be grateful to it.

Tagging: @camille-lachenille @thelordofgifs @searchingforserendipity25 @sallysavestheday @lordgrimwing @eilinelsghost @chthonion @gardensofthemoon and anyone else who wants to join in!

[eneiryu]

do you have any tips for people who want to start writing/posting works, but don't know where to start?

I’ve been mulling it over since I got your ask, and I think I have come up with a few things:

- Start small, not just in length but in concept. Plotting out fics in such a way that all the threads get satisfactorily tied up at the end, and things don’t feel rushed or dragged out or forgotten about, is a skill. I find it much, much easier to pick one single core concept, and build a whole, detailed story around that, than to successfully keep several metaphorical plates in the air. For example, with my last fic: I wanted Theo to convince himself he had to leave BH after the series finale, and then for him and Liam to run into each other years later, and end up having that explosive resolution. I could have felt like I needed to write all the in-between, or even the after, but really I didn’t. To steal a piece of writing advice I heard from someone else, ask yourself if you’re writing the most interesting parts of your character’s life/story, and if the answer is no, try stopping and writing that. Conveniently enough, that also usually ends up being the more fun parts to write. And, eventually—you’ll get to the point where writing out the epics is much, much easier.

- OUTLINE. Seriously, outline everything. If you have an idea, even if you don’t have any idea where it goes or anything other than the first sentence or summary? Write it down. Write it down immediately. You will forget things if you try to save it for later. My phone is full of incomprehensible chunks of stories, but that is how I get to comprehensible stories. And outlining honestly makes things so much easier. If I have an outline, I very rarely get “stuck.” I know what happens next, and it’s so much easier to thread the different moments together, than to sit there staring at an intimidatingly blank page, and feel like I need to come up with everything.

- Don’t worry about titles and summaries and tags until the story is actually done, and don’t stress yourself out trying to come up with the perfect one. I come up with my titles on the fly. One of the most talented fic writers I’ve ever come across has one-word titles, usually just some kind of noun (does the fic take place in an arena? The fic is tilted “Arena.”).

And, honestly, most importantly?

- Write for yourself, and for the fans that you have, not the fans that you wish you have. It’s so tempting to judge how “successful” you were at a story by how many comments or reblogs or likes you get, but my experience has been that there are so many stories, and so many posts, and so many different tastes and styles and whatever, that being “popular” in fandom is a mythical and almost impossible thing to achieve. Some of my favorite stories I’ve written are the ones that received the least notice, comparatively. I have made so many friends and have come to have a group of readers who names and pseuds and comments I genuinely remember and appreciate, because they show up again and again and take the time to leave the comments, or the reblogs, or the likes. They engage, with me and with the work that I do genuinely spend hours or my time and energy on, and having a handful of those readers show up in one of my stories, even if it doesn’t hit the same “mark” as some of my others? That’s a damn good day, right there.

Okay just kidding, one more:

- Have fun. Writing is seriously so much work, and it’s hard, and a lot of the time, it may feel like you’re shouting into the void. So you’ve got to write the things that you enjoy, that you want to see in the world, and then you’ve got to go put it into the world. If you’re having fun, your readers will know it and respond to it. And if you’re having fun, well, then—you’re having fun, aren’t you? 😊

[gcslingss]

don't wake me, i'm not dreaming. sierra six.

chapter 02: phantasm.

you can also check this fic out on ao3!

summary: six had an old friend from his time in prison. he never expected her to come back.

timeline: post-gray man movie

pairing: sierra six/court gentry x oc (atlas wright)

warnings: for this chapter, swearing, mentions of weapons (guns)

word count: 2.97k

notes: i did not proofread this yet :) i also fucking hate the way I've written this one but uhh i hope u enjoy anyway

███████, 2014

“You’re awfully good at what you do. I’ve only ever met one other person like that.”

The Ghost smiled underneath her mask. “That’s a compliment, I hope.”

“Not exactly. Because you don’t work for us.”

“That’s true. But I haven’t done anything risky for the country.”

“Yet. No guarantee you won’t in the next few years,” Fitzroy replied, his fingers drumming on the chair. “There’s always a deal good enough, at some point in time.”

“What’re you suggesting, sir?”

Fitzroy paused, but his fingers kept drumming.

“You’re still here, alive and well only because you saved my niece from Basset. You nearly died in that process, and it would be wrong of me to not acknowledge that.”

He folded his arms over his chest, giving Atlas a plain gaze.

“But that doesn’t mean,” he ominously continued, “That you aren’t a potential threat to the safety of our nation.”

“Fair point.”

“We will be keeping tabs on you. I’m doing you a favour by warning you that if you let a single toe go out of line, you will be eliminated. Is that clear?”

Atlas looked up at the man and nodded. “Crystal.”

SPRINGFIELD, MISSOURI, 2021

The cellphone on the standalone started to ferociously ring, disrupting Atlas’ deep sleep.

Disgruntled, the woman tossed in her bed so she could reach the damned thing and connected the call.

“Ghostie!” A voice greeted. “Remember me?”

Oh, great.

“Lloyd.” Atlas closed her eyes with a frustration only few could understand. Not everyone received a call from a sociopathic torturer at seven in the morning.

“You don’t sound happy to hear from me.”

“What’d you expect?”

Lloyd tched. “I thought we were friends, Ghostie.” “Look, could you just tell me why you called, for fuck’s sake?”

“I’ve sent you a little message.”

On cue, Atlas’ phone pinged, with a notification from an unknown number. There seemed to be images attached.

“What’s this?” she asked, hesitant to open it.

“A job. I’m sure you’ll like it.”

That could’ve meant anything, but considering Lloyd, it was probably a level 10 difficulty job involving bleeding fingers and lots of blood.

She opened the message, and saw a few pictures that were taking a minute to load. Then she saw a number that made her choke on absolutely nothing.

REWARD: $50,000,000

“What the hell is this, Hansen?” Atlas hissed, and Lloyd chuckled on the other side of the line.

“Pretty fucking amazing, isn’t it? All that money’s yours if you complete a simple task.”

“Which is?”

“You ever heard of Sierra Six, Ghost?”

Atlas frowned contemplatively. “Never had the pleasure of meeting him, but yes, I know who he is. It’s hard not to hear of him. ”

“That’s good, cause there’s a drive in his possession that we’d really like back, and you’re gonna have to get it. Maybe put a bullet in that Ken Doll’s skull on the way.”

“Firstly, odd comparison.,” Atlas said, rolling her eyes. “Secondly, who’s ‘we’? Doesn-”

“You don’t need to know that,” Lloyd cut in. “All you need to know is that you hit the jackpot if you get that drive.”

“Hold on, mate.”

The pictures had finally downloaded. They looked like low quality surveillance cam stills, and in those stills was a man Atlas instantly recognized.

Her breath hitched when she zoomed in on one of the videos and saw Court staring at her, before shooting down the camera.

He was the infamous Sierra Six?

Well. Shit.

“You’re… on your own, Lloyd,” she said, with no hesitation at all.

“…Come again?”

“I’m not doing this. I’m pretty sure you’ve got shit tons of other people looking for him. You’ll be fine without me.”

She could her Lloyd click his tongue, and sigh.

“That’s quite disappointing,” he said flatly.

“I can’t do anything about that.”

The call disconnected.

A sigh escaped Atlas’ lips when she kept the phone aside reburied her face into her pillow, her dark, short hair uncomfortably tickling her face.

That was a whopping amount of 50 million she’d just declined. There was a 90% chance that she could’ve gotten it, if Lloyd stayed as partial as he usually did with her and she performed to her best.

She could’ve done it. But she refused.

Why did she turn down such an offer?

“Because I’m scared,” she mumbled to herself in the pillow. “I don’t know if I can face him without losing focus again.”

As hard as it was to admit, it was the truth. It was unprofessional, but the truth.

It was as if she was being forced to encounter him again by whatever entity existed. To finish, to come full circle.

He hadn’t appeared in her life for ages, and suddenly she was seeing him twice in under a year. It didn’t make sense.

She could only hope it ended there.

… … …

In recent times, it had become clear that the CIA had stooped very low in order to get what they wanted, and that included recruiting the Lloyd Hansen, being cause of multiple shootouts and large scale tussles across the globe, destroying a monument, and possibly more that Atlas hadn’t heard of yet.

Her sources also told her that Lloyd was dead now, and she wanted to feel bad, but her days of working with that arsehole made it hard.

It seemed that now, as part of one of these terrible plans, Atlas had been called by them for some task she wasn’t aware of yet.

She was sitting in a dark but well-furnished room, at the moment, her knee bobbing in impatience as she waited for whoever was supposed to tell her why she was here.

Someone came in after a few minutes, someone with short blonde hair and a crisp suit that suited her well.

She was kind of hot, honestly.

“You’re the Ghost?” she asked, her face maintaining a stoic, slightly irritated expression.

“Correct. And you are?”

The lady didn’t respond. She glanced at the door as another man entered.

He looked like a solid prick, and with the way he settled in his chair with an unnecessarily smug demeanour, Atlas could tell that this bloke probably couldn’t keep a woman for longer than two days.

“Hi,” she said. “I’m assuming you called me here.”

“You assumed right. I’m Denny Carmichael.”

His eyes were focused on his hands.

“Do you know why you’re here, Ghost?”

Atlas shrugged. “Judging your recent massive blunder streak I assume I’m here because something went very wrong during your little escalation and now you want me to clean it up.”

Carmichael looked unamused.

“Clearly you’ve been doing this for a while, and that’s good. It tells me that you won't fuck up, and if you did, it would be entirely your fault.”

“How about you tell me what I’m doing first?”

Carmichael gestured to the lady agent standing behind him, and Atlas picked up that her name was Suzanne, who handed him a file that looked suspiciously empty.

“There’s a certain agent of ours who’s gone…rogue, and is to be considered a potential threat to the security of our nation,” Carmichael explained. “He’s extremely skilled, and funnily enough, until a few months ago, we didn’t know shit about him, except that he’s a fucking war machine.”

That sounded interesting. Half the people Atlas had dealt with with were generally not even worth being called a vending machine.

“He’s got a young girl with him, a girl related to someone in the CIA, and he’s holding her for ransom.” Suzanne seemed to react to this.

“Denny-?”

Carmichael waved a hand. “She needs to know this, Suzanne.”

Suzanne frowned, but stayed silent. Atlas pretended to ignore this interaction - she wasn’t entirely sure of its implications, so it was best not to speak yet.

“We want you to find out where they are, and bring them back to me. Both of them.”

“And what do you plan on doing to him?” Atlas asked.

Carmichael vaguely replied, “Whatever needs to be done.”

Carmichael finally tossed the file over to her across the desk. She flipped it open, and saw a page with a bare few details. She began to read them, running a finger over the text as she did, aand the finger ceased when she saw the two names written on the sheet.

SIERRA SIX  CLAIRE FITZROY

…What?

She hastily flipped to the second page, where she saw two pinned photos, the first one of Claire Fitzroy and Court conversing with each other on a street. Her eyes locked onto the girl’s cheerful, young face, and it struck a chord in her.

“I’m scared.”

“Don’t worry, love, it’s going to be okay,” Atlas reassured, taking the trembling girl’s hands in her own.  “What’s your name?” 

The girl managed to stutter out, “C-Claire.”

“That’s such a pretty name.”

“Than-Thanks,” she whispered, her throat sounding tight and her lips quivering.

“Stay here, Claire, okay? I’ll come back and get you - just give me a minute.”

Claire nodded, but her hands were tightly clutching Atlas’.

She smiled and eased her hands away, before cocking her gun and stepping out of the little garden shed, ready for a good fucking fight.

“This girl’s the one being held for ransom?” Atlas asked, her tone flat and heavy.

“Correct. And her life’s in danger.”

Atlas glanced at Court’s face. She didn’t want to believe what Carmichael was saying. It didn’t seem possible for someone like him to do something like this.

But then again, people changed.

“I’ll give you 25 million dollars if you do this right,” Carmichael offered. Atlas couldn’t help but scoff.

“25? Your friend Lloyd offered 50 million for one man.”

“And look where it got him,” Carmichael sneered. Atlas noted how he didn’t question that she knew of their connections. Fair enough.

“What if I say no, Carmichael?” Atlas said. The man shuffled comfortably in his chair and she already knew the answer. This wasn’t her first offer.

“You know my name, Ghost. You know what I look like. You know Suzanne now. You know what we’re doing.”

Carmichael leaned forward, smiling. “You can’t.”

Atlas sighed, scratching the side of her head. “Am I the only one who’s been set on his tail?”

“Obviously not. well, not yet. Soon enough.”

Atlas took a moment, then closed the file and slid it across back to him.

“Fine.”

“Great.”

15 minutes later, she was being escorted out of the building with two agents on her side, her mind unusually blank - probably the result of extreme confusion and difficulty processing that she had to face an old connection, something she had never wanted to happen.

Fucking Court. War machine, was it?

Last time she’d seen him, he couldn’t even say goodbye right.

Hah, wait, that was wrong - she’d seen him even after that, hadn’t she? That’s where this fucking mess started.

As they walked down the corridor, another agent with a short black bob came heading, apparently absorbed in her own thoughts, unaware of her surroundings, because despite the two agents’ warnings, she bumped right into them.

Something small and heavy fell into Atlas’ pocket, and the woman left just like that, walking away behind them.

She didn’t react, not until she was safely taken back to her hotel room, and she took out the object that turned out to be a little burner phone.

She flipped it open and the small screen lit up, and as she turned it over in her hand, the phone vibrated, signalling a new message.

It was a bit of a risk to interact in any way, but her curiosity got to her - besides, this lady was in the CIA building, so that meant she was mostly safe.

She opened the message, and she was rather piqued when she saw the text.

9:00 pm. Outside, behind your hotel. You will regret not coming.

“Well, isn’t that polite,” Atlas muttered to herself, almost smirking.

Well, then.

9pm behind the hotel it was.

…

The night air was cold, biting and suddenly very ominous. Or maybe that was just for Atlas, who stood by the side of the hotel’s backdoor, clad in nothing but her cotton shirt, shorts and a thin red jacket she bought for 45 dollars, having no idea what to expect.

Her hair was blowing in her face, annoyingly disturbing her curls.

it was 8:59pm.

“I see you’ve received my message.”

Atlas would’ve been lying if she said she didn’t literally jump in her spot, but she managed to calm down by the time the sillhouette that had just addressed her got close enough.

In the dim moonlight, she could see that it was the same woman that gave her the phone. She was a proper 4 inches taller than herself, and that pissed her off, but just a little. It wasn’t entirely her fault she was just five feet tall. She also had a duffel bag slung over her shoulder.

“Hello,” Atlas said unsurely. Her hand was cautiously clamped on the stock of the gun in her back pocket.

“Leave them alone,” the woman said. “Or help me keep them safe. Choose one.”

“I’m - I’m sorry, what?” Atlas said. She wasn’t picking up on the context. “Could you use more words?”

“Seriously?”

“I don’t do well with mysterious spy talk, because the mysterious part is more like absolutely blank to me. Elaborate, will you?” she asked, and she could see the other woman look visibly taken aback at what she said.

“Six and Claire,” she snapped.

“Oh, oh, right.”

And then Atlas laughed, because what the hell.

“I’m sort of in the dark here, yeah?” she said, frowning. “I don’t know who the hell you are, why you’ve called me here, or what the fuck you mean by giving me those two options. Or why I should listen to anything you’re saying right now.”

The woman aggresively cocked her gun and pressed it into Atlas’ sternum faster that she could react, and she could feel her breath against her face as she growled, “If you don’t listen to me, Ghost, I will make sure you end up in the gutter right outside this place, bleeding out and very injured.”

If that wasn’t the hottest thing that had ever happened to her.

“Alright, I’m sorry,” she said, raising her hands in the air as if in defeat. It was the only thing she could think of at that moment. “Maybe I can get your name? Instead of calling you ‘Cute Girl’ everytime in my head, and then you can take it from there and explain things a bit?”

“Shut up.”

“Okay, sorry.”

“I know that Carmichael put you up to finding Six and Claire’s whereabouts and bringing them back under his custody,” she said lowly, “And I also know that he told you Claire was being held for ransom.”

“Yeah, I mean - that’s all correct.”

“No. The second part of it is bullshit.” The woman looked like she couldve pushed the gun straight through Atlas’ flesh. “Carmichael lied.”

“Oh?”

In all honesty, that sounded believable. He looked like he lied on a daily basis. It irked her, but she wasn’t surprised.

“But wait, so-“ she took a second, processing what Cute Girl had just said.

“You’re saying Claire isn’t being held for ransom? Then why the fuck is she with him?”

Cute Girl stared intensely at her, before slowly replying, “He’s all she has.”

Oh. That was a…solid sentiment. And it most certainly wasn’t a lie.

“Carmichael wants them captured and under his control, possibly even killed. That way he doesn’t have to ever worry about them,” she said, and it was clear she hated this guy as she spat, “he’s a fucking psychopath and a puppet, and I can’t let him lay a single finger on either of them. That means I will not hesitate to put you down if you listen to him and step where you shouldn’t.”

“Right.”

Now. This changed things.

Clearly, Court wasn’t a bad guy after all, he and Claire were in danger from Carmichael, and this woman here had deep connections with them, connections enough that she was willing to double cross for them.

Fact was, Atlas completely understood that.

“What do you want me to do?” she questioned, her tone no longer joking. The woman picked up on it, and the gun withdrew by an inch.

“I’m giving you two options - you can take the hush money and leave them alone, or you start working for me, and you keep them away from Carmichael’s eyes.”

Atlas smiled. “I have a feeling you’ve already picked the option for me.”

The woman gave her a stare that confirmed her statement.

“It’s the second one, isn’t it?”

“…Yes.”

“I don’t have any problem with that, frankly,” Atlas said, as she softly pushed away the gun from her ribs, “Because I know them both, and I’m entirely willing to help them. And because Carmichael is a fucking dick for lying to me,” she added.

The woman paused, looking Atlas up and down, then kept her gun away.

“I’m Dani Miranda,” she said.

“That’s nice.”

Dani dropped the bag in front of her, and said, “That has 15 mil. Do what I tell you correctly, and I’ll give you the other 15.”

Atlas didn’t try to hide the surprise on her face.

“What, really?”

“Yes. But step out of line even once, and I swear, I will kill you.”

Atlas nodded. “Yeah, ‘course. Got it.”

“What if I need to communicate, thought?” she asked.

“It’ll only be from my side. I’ll contact you when I need to.”

With that, Dani left, as mysterious as ever.

Atlas stood, a little baffled, as she glanced at the bag on the floor.

[withahappyrefrain]

Hey Abby! So glad you brought the positivity night back, I think we all need a minute to chill out.

Sending all the love to everyone I list off, as well as to anyone that I forget because there are so so many amazing, positive, and fandom nurturing people and accounts out there and we really need to step in the way-back machine and remember that fandom is community!

Gonna get off the soapbox now 😂

@startrekfangirl2233 -> I feel like y’all are sleeping on here work! Her series You Are My Soulmate with Roo is currently driving me up the wall because he is so stubborn and it’s just fantastically written. On top of her amazing work, she is a fantastic friend and I love her to pieces!

@sarahsmi13s -> I currently blame her (affectionately) for my muse going in 7 different directions right now, but she is just the sweetest. She is working so hard to bring us all some amazingly heart-wrenching whumptober things and she is doing fantastic. Such an amazing person who deserves all the shout outs!

@mayhemmanaged -> May has been one of the biggest supporters of my series AGAD since she found out I was writing it. She has her own series, Heavy is the Head, that is just fantastically plotted and y’all aren’t ready for some of the twists (I will catch up May, I promise)! Yet again, very sweet, very kind, and very much needed a shout out

@horseshoegirl -> Lucky makes me scream. That’s it. Her series Damn Those Dog Tags is just so fucking amazing and I still have to catch up, but oh my god. She is such a kind and warm person and I have always felt safe and supported when chatting with her. Such a good person with a chaotic horse and yeah…

@roosterforme -> Em. My first real connection in the TGM fandom and honestly, she’s just incredible. All of her stories are so fleshed out and the characters are all so different, yet they still have those elements of strength in them at all times. Roo and BG (the first series) was one of the first fics I read for this fandom, and on top of writing 3 or 4 series at once, she is also so supportive and kind and I will get more Roo and Rosie for you!

@footprintsinthesxnd -> Jess is just a sweetheart. Point blank. Her series, The Good Die Young, another wwii AU for Jake (iykyk 👀), is one of the reasons that I wanted to rewrite my own series set in wwii. She’s been through a lot this year and yet still offered to help me research for my own work. Show her some love and support because she is incredibly kind and generous, and also an amazing friend.

@bradshawsweetheart -> Riley, one, I’m sorry for all that bullshit that happened a few days ago. Two, Good Vibrations was AMAZING (still have to reblog it but I’m getting there!) Three, you come off as such a kind person and I honestly can’t wait to get to know you better!

@roosterbruiser -> Millie, you always hurt me. I’m still playing catch-up with Cruel Summer, but I don’t think that I have read another fic with so much hidden darkness in it. Horror is not my genre by any means but your skill with words is just phenomenal. I have screamed at you enough times to know how sweet you are behind that all of that angst you throw at us, and I’m so thankful that your fic fell into my lap!

@teacupsandtopgun -> Beth, we only really just connected and I love how positive you are! Jake and Flick are on my TBR pile rn and I will get there! I wish I could say more, but I’m really excited to get to know you!

@bobfloydsbabe -> a sweetheart. I will get to Professor Bob at some point but I just know that it’s going to be amazing!

Abby, I will probably be back when I remember who I have forgotten, but I cannot wait to see how this night turns out!

And PSA to those who don’t find their names up here! You are still loved and appreciated! You are valued in this fandom and don’t ever feel like you aren’t enough!

Fern, thank you!!! You have introduced me to people who sound awesome, which is my favorite thing about Positivity night!!!

[dandylovesturtles]

fic assumption: ... is it cheating to say 'you really like the disaster twins'

Damn what gave it away

I actually do really like all the duo combos - one of the things I like about Rise is the way the characters and their dynamics are written that means each duo has their own unique flavor. When I’m just watching the show, a lot of my favorite episodes and moments are actually PB&J-centric - Donnie and Mikey have a way of hyping each other up and indulging each other’s silliness in a way no other pairing with either of them has. But each duo has great potential for character building and conflict and shenanigans.

The reason why I write so much about disaster twins is because both of them hit on the part of my character analysis brain that produces the most dopamine lol

I actually had kind of a crisis midway through writing Corrupted Upgrade because I started to feel like it should have been a Brains and Brawn fic instead. Uh, I guess spoilers now, and I’m also rambling so let’s reconvene after a cut…

ANYWAY when I had the initial idea, it was always with the plan that Leo was going to go in after Donnie. A lot of my fics start when I get a sort of single idea in my head, and for CU it was Leo making the crack about how he’s not afraid of beach balls, then going in and realizing it’s not beach balls and now he has to put the clues together. And from that idea sprang the whole outline of how the fic would play out.

Partway through though, I thought, well, shouldn’t Raph be the one coming after him? Raph is the leader - in Donnie’s nightmare, Raph is the one who made the final decision to throw Donnie out. So Raph should be the one pulling him back in. And that made a lot of sense really!

…Unfortunately I had committed the fic for a big bang which meant I had a deadline that was at that point rapidly approaching and there were artists trying to draw fanart for it and if I had changed the whole plan then that would have upended everything. And it’s not like I can just find/replace Leo for Raph and change up some dialogue, they would have had completely different approaches to the situation.

So yeah I didn’t do that. And a part of me is sad because I think it would have made a great Brains and Brawn fic! And there aren’t enough of those in the world.

So I guess this is my confession that there exists an alternate version of Corrupted Upgrade in my head where Raph goes after him instead.

I’m not actually sure what Raph’s solution would be, though. I didn’t get that far in thinking about it. Maybe he just kidnaps him idk lol. Like “you are coming back right now young man we are TALKING about this”

Something fun to consider lol

[bohemian-nights]

cry about it 💋

Kudos to you for not using anon to send this 👏🏽Although perhaps I reserve commending you for your bravery when you’ve seemingly created a new tumblr with no posts or likes to send this, but I’ll play ball with those stats.

1. Everyone knows that Dettles is not a popular ship(which makes it all the more hilarious that people continue to harass us). Even Alysmond, which has an abysmally low number of fics, has almost 5x the number of fics than us on Ao3:

2. Dumbnyra, your ship, received a massive, and I do mean massive, surge in popularity thanks to HOTD.

And if you don’t believe me, go to Ao3(since that’s the metric you want to use) and look for fics dated from December 2013(when The Princess and the Queen first came out) to July 2022(right before the show aired in August). When you’ve done that you’ll find a whopping 63 fics written over the course of 8 years(the first fic was written in January 2014):

It was only after the show started to air in August 2022 that you guys actually started shipping it in mass, going ham, and writing a little over 2,200 fics for them over the course of the last five months of that year. It’s because of the show that your ship has reached the top 100 Ao3 ships:

Note that I included 2021 stats as a comparison.

If HOTD had never aired your ship would still have less than 100 fics on Ao3.

3. Which brings me to my last point, even when Dettles happens on the show, Daemon and Nettles will never reach anywhere close to Dumbnyra’s level of popularity.

You’re probably thinking damn right it won’t, but why is she saying this? She’s supposed to disagree with me and look the fool.

Well, you see the ships that are highlighted in purple in the Ao3 ship stats from 2021-2023? Those are all the ships with Black women that have broken the top 100 ships on Ao3. As you can see, ships with Black women let heterosexual Black women(that’s a whole other issue representation matters, but it’s clear y’all are only comfortable with women who aren’t a threat) are not very popular due to the inherent anti-Blackness(in this case misogynoir) of fandoms.

I could link you with several articles on this subject, but I’ll leave you with this one and call it a day cause I’m not educating an uneducated overly grown person. Google is free. If you choose to still be uneducated and ignorant that’s a you problem.

So while Daemon and Nettles will see a surge in popularity when Maidenpool finally happens, we will never reach Dumbnyra, Alysmond, or insert any other white ships, popularity.

That’s not because our ship is inherently inferior or not canon(if you look at those stats canon has nothing to do with anything). It’s because y’all don’t like Black women and you especially don’t like seeing Black women being in relationships with your white male faves. You’ve literally admitted to this one two many times.

Please know that this was a courtesy response. If you send me so much as a single ask like this one again I’m blocking you and reporting you for harassment.

Now you and your cronies can run along now. Go back to crying about, gang stalking, and harassing someone else who ships something that doesn’t even have 1/10 of the popularity of yours…