#guess i will sit down and rewrite some of those at some point

[thanagrian]

dune parts 1 and 2 really got me rethinking half my headcanons about thanagar fml

[textmel8r]

[ SMAU + DRABBLE ] 𝐒𝐔𝐆𝐀𝐑 𝐁𝐀𝐁𝐘 ! ( eighth installment ) in which you find toji fushiguro’s number off a sugar baby site .

୨୧˚ part; one. two. three. four. five. six. seven. eight. nine. ten. eleven.

୨୧˚ incl; toji fushiguro

୨୧˚ cw; sugarmommy! reader , sugarbaby! toji , smut , submissive toji , finger sucking , masturbation , oral sex (f!receiving) , profanity

୨୧˚ an; so not happy with my writing in this one, probs will rewrite it one day but here, have a couple thousand words of smut🗣️ this is lowkey another filler but lowkey not at the same time? i wanted to fit in another intimate moment before shit goes south awooooooo

You were not fibbing when you said you knew your way around the kitchen. “Holy fuck,” Toji all but moans, tearing into another piece of tender meat with his canines. It was juicy and seasoned almost too much, just the way he likes it. He squints across the table, where you eat in tandem with much better manners than he could ever hope to have. “Who taught you how to cook like this?”

You shrug bashfully under his gawking, wiping your mouth with a dainty stroke of the napkin you had placed in your lap. “I traveled a lot in between semesters at college. Italy, France, Denmark…” You list a few more places that Toji wouldn’t be able to point out on a map. “Those European countries do food so good, I guess it inspired me to give my best shot at it as well.” Self taught, huh? Yeah, you seem like the type to succeed in everything you try. 

The man nods, ultimately wishing he had more to add. He wishes he had just an ounce in common with you, a smidgen of relatability to offer. But he doesn’t. Toji didn’t finish school. He’s never left Japan. He’s never cooked a damn thing from scratch in his life. You must’ve caught on to his struggle and decided to show mercy by adding, “actually, right now we’re eating steak au poivre.”

“Steak au po–” He cut himself off before inevitably butchering the name. “What is that? French?”

You’re nodding enthusiastically. “That’s right. I happened upon this dish when I was staying in Bordeaux with a few college mates.” There’s a sweet smile tugging sheepishly at your lips as you recall the memory. “I fell in love with it the second I tried it, and asked the manager right then and there for the recipe.”

Toji shakes his head with disbelief, talking with his mouth full of food. “You’re just full of stories, aren’t you?”

“Some would call me experienced, yes.”

His brow raises. Experienced? Was that a come on? Toji gives way to his own quaint smile, jutting his chin toward you. “Say it again.”

“Say what again?”

“Steak au whatever.”

You oblige his request, repeating the name back slowly so he could attempt to grasp it. “Steak au poivre. Now you give it a go.”

Toji finishes chewing the mouthful of peppercorn-laced meat, swallowing it down with a swig of the Château Cheval Blanc you’d poured at the start of the meal. Some fancy French imported wine is what he gathered from the long winded description you waxed as you topped off an extravagant glass for him. Wine never really appealed to the man—he usually went for the harder shit. The type that you knock back from lowball glasses. The type to get you piss drunk after three rounds—but it was all you ever drank. It was safe to say he was becoming accustomed to your tastes. Maybe the sweetness wasn’t so terrible. He clears his throat, putting embarrassingly too much effort into his “steak au poivre.” It doesn’t sound pretty the way it did leaving your mouth, and he grimaces. “Can’t fucking do it.”

“I thought you sounded good.” He scoffs at that, but you click your tongue. “I’m serious.”

“Yeah, well, we’ll just leave the French speaking to you.” The plate before him sits scraped clean. You’re still working on your dinner. Fuck, you’re a slow eater. “You know any more?”

“Any more French, you mean?”

He nods along with a gruff hum, swishing his tongue around his teeth, collecting anything left over of that smokiness from the peppered steak. 

“Hm. Tu m'as manqué, Toji.” You hide your grin behind the rim of your glass. 

Thick forearms crossed over chest, he croons a deep, barely-there chuckle. “I heard my name. Tell me what you said.”

“No way,” you chortle.

“Ah, c’mon. You’re all blushy.” He licks over the chappedness of his lower lip, knowing gaze latched onto your lips. It was hypnotic, your smile. “You say somethin’ dirty about me, ma’am?”

The way in which your eyes widened coquettishly at the accusation had Toji’s heart beating just a bit more erratically. Like a fawn, he thinks. All that was missing on you was a white, cottony tail. 

“If I said something dirty, It would have been in a language you could understand.” Finally, you take the last bite off your dish as well. Hopefully that means dinner is officially over; Toji has been craving dessert since he stepped foot in your house and got showered in ‘welcome back’ gifts. “I’m not the type of woman easily embarrassed by my sexuality. I thought you would have picked that up by now.”

He persists. “What are you embarrassed by?”

“Toji.” His name is spoken sharply, a verbal warning that he was tiptoeing the line. Threatening to shatter that layer of thin ice he stood upon. This is what he’s been needing. This is what he’s been fucking needing.

“I’ve been thinking about you, ma’am.” Any semblance of a filter is long gone, melted by the sheer heat of his desire. His limbs feel heavy, hands tumbling into his lap. They rest on the wide surface area of sweatpant-clad thighs, just sitting there. Feeling himself. “This entire week, I’ve been thinking.”

You seem to get the implications of his confession. “In a sexual way?”

“Yeah.” That’s a white lie. To be truthful was to admit that the sexual thoughts Toji let himself think about you were the minority. Objectifying you in the depths of his mind wasn't enough. He thought about your breasts, sure. He thought about your curves, and your ass, and your mouth, and every other body part that would grant him pleasure. But that wasn’t enough for Toji. Fixations of his tended to lead him astray from fantasies, instead breaching carefully saved memories stored within his brain catalog. When he touched himself, it was more or less to remembrances of mundane tasks you’d dealt him in the past. All the times you had bestowed little gifts and knick knacks on a whim just because they reminded you of him. Or when you drag him to the outlets with you for a shopping spree and he’ll act miserable the entire time, but you both knew it was a horribly crafted facade. Or even, like now, when you’d treat him to dinner because you worry over him and his eating schedule. The little things really counted; a revelation that scared Toji shitless, so he opted to ignore those budding, foreign feelings and replace it with familiarity: lust.

“Toji, honey, are you alright?”

What? His breathing pattern was off kilter, and the muscles of his jaw flexed unconsciously. When had he started palming himself? His right hand had grown a mind of its own apparently, because when Toji stole a glance downward, there it was; kneading roughly at the bulge between his meaty thighs. How desperate was he? To go dormant like that, so consumed with the thought of you that he began to instinctually masturbate himself not even five feet away from where you sit. And why… Why wasn’t he stopping?

“Can we fuck now?”

“Oh.” You barely look shocked. Not the slightest bit appalled like he expected you to be. Instead, slide off a ring that took purchase wrapped around your middle finger. A sigh escapes you as you place the band on the table. “I still have more to ask you. I wanted to know how your work trip went.”

Toji shakes his head, something akin to a toddler trying to get fed vegetables. “No.”

“No?”

“I don’t wanna talk about work.”

“Why not?” You frown, leaning forward against the tabletop. “Was it bad?”

He knows what you’re doing. Trying to make him spill any details about his job. Well, he won’t give in. 

A heavy sigh slithers out hoarsely from the deepest part of his lungs, and Toji presses his palms to the table, pushing himself up. He stands tall, much like the tent at his crotch, and slinks along the roundness of the dinner table, walking his fingertips across the top all the while. “I don’t want to talk,” he reiterates, breathy and abrasive.

Finally, Toji stands before you. Still, you are seated, unbothered by the towering man’s presence. No, you’re swirling your wine glass sophisticatedly, lips pursed into a narrow line. Like you’re the slightest bit irritated with his persistent defiance. 

God, you won't even look at him.

Or maybe, you were never irritated at all. Toji cops a second glance to your lips, finding the faintest ghost of a frown. “You’ve been acting so… so removed. Ever since you left.” Now you’re looking at him; Toji shudders under the intense fire that billows behind your eyes, wide and wetted with worry. “I want you to feel like you can tell me things. I want your trust, Toji.”

You have his trust. Every last crumb of it resides in the palm of your soft hand.

“... And I know that it’s stupid—I’m stupid for wanting that from you. I know what this relationship is, and I know that there are these unspoken boundaries, but I—I can’t—”

It was the first time he’d ever heard you speak with such a volatile expression. There was a tremble of uncertainty in your vocal chords, carrying into the skittish dialogue that tumbled out in rambles. Something about such a show of pity from you, his Y/n, made his guts churn like butter. He can’t listen to this any more. With swiftness, Toji dives down to press his mouth against yours, swallowing the words that die on your tongue. One hand grips the back of your chair, the other holds the roundness of your cheek. He feels your gasp, feels the way your shoulders jolt in surprise, but he doesn’t release you.

This was really only his second instance of kissing you. The first had been in his bed, with his groin pressed to yours, tongue fighting its way to the back of your throat with greedy fervor. This second kiss was anything but greedy, though. Despite the ache that roiled at the base of his stomach, Toji didn’t serve you a kiss that reflected his desire. Tongues never met and spit was never swapped; just lips on glossed lips. 

At last, Toji reluctantly peels away. Lipstick residue feels heavy on his mouth, and he knows he probably looks foolish donning remnants of your dark lip lacquer, but he doesn’t move to wipe his skin. The circular bottom of the wine glass clinks as you clumsily set it down, freeing your hands. They branch upwards, finding his face. A pair of thumbs rub the sensitive pads of flesh beneath his eyes, massaging out those ugly, darkened bags that have accumulated as a result of many sleepless nights. It feels orgasmic, the way you handle him. 

“I trust you.” The words are out in the air before he has time to think.

You brighten, sunshine hiding in the crevices of your smile. “You mean that?” You ask him, hands petting down the sides of his neck.

He meant it wholeheartedly. The amount of trust left within Toji was scarce. Too many bad people fucked him for life; showed him the meaning of the phrase ‘trust is earned.’ So it really fucking freaked him out how quickly you came to earn it. A little over a year-–that’s how long he’s known you—you’ve have plenty of time to fuck him over. To batter him. And yet, you haven’t. All you’ve ever shown him was kindness and consideration and warmth and everything else Toji never knew how bad he was thirsty for.

“Wouldn’t have said it if I didn’t mean it.”

“I trust you, too, Toji.” 

He wonders if he deserves that. Because really, what has given you besides his annoyingly closed-off dickhead attitude? He provides fuck all, but you still stick around. 

Toji doesn’t say anything. He swoops once more, capturing your lips in a hungrier kiss than before. All the playful innocence is tossed aside, forgotten in lieu of Toji’s devastatingly furious need to consume you. Tongues finally greet each other in a spittle-slicked tango; he dominates yours with ease, worming behind your teeth just to collect your sweet flavor. Wine, he thinks. You taste like your goddamn expensive ass wine.

He feels feverish. One-track minded, hyper fixated on you. On your crossed legs underneath the table. “Fuck,” Toji breathes into your mouth, sucking on your bottom lip.

Your hand clashes against the hard wall of his chest, patting it softly. A wordless signal that you need some air, so he retracts. “Let’s go to the bedroom.” 

The plea goes in one ear and falls right out the other. Toji leeches against your neck, dragging the flat of his wet tongue over that little throbbing pulse point. His teeth grate against your flawless skin, completely none the wiser that you’re even talking to him. You thwack the back of his head, and he lurches into the crook of your shoulder, muffling a groan.

“No marks, I’ve got work.”

His eyes roll, face still burrowed against you. He couldn’t give less of a shit about your job right now. 

“Come on, let’s go to my room.” “Gimme a sec.” He’s still licking below your jaw, making his way down. This stupidly lavish house had been cursed with three levels, your bedroom holed up at the very top floor. Like hell Toji was going to part ways with your glorious body so you two could safely make it up the two ridiculous staircases. Fuck that.

“Toji, I’m… serious…” Your raucous pants of anticipation suggest otherwise. Toji has sunken to his knees, crawling beneath the table and finding a home on the floor before your seat. His kneecaps scream in discomfort as they pin heavily to the wooden floorboards, but Toji bears the pain well ( he’d always been somewhat of a masochist ). Your legs are still crossed, one knee hinging over the other. 

“Open these.” Two calloused hands cuff around the thinnest parts of either ankle. Your legs were conspicuously smooth; did you shave for him? There is an attempt at delicacy when Toji pries your legs apart, and it makes you giggle. 

“Here?” You laugh more. Toji suspects you’re patronizing him in a way. “I haven’t even cleared the table. Are you really so impatient?”

And here Toji thought he exercised his patience well. He didn’t jump your bones the second of his arrival. No, he waited like a good boy until after dinner. “I’ve waited for this the whole week.” Restless hands walk up those porcelain calves, strong and lean from working in high heels. They wander up, hooking beneath the junctures of your knees; Toji uses his celestial strength to his advantage, maneuvering both legs with ease until he’s got them resting comfortably over his broad shoulders. Toji turns, cocks his head to give a serpentine lick to the inside of your thigh. Then a bite. “Don’t make me wait any longer. I’ll fucking die.”

You peer down at him. “Don’t talk like that.” You feel yourself. Small hands groping your chest, sliding lower and lower. “You’re not going to die.”

His mouth feels sticky, like there’s a spoonful of honey under his tongue. “I might.”

Your heel drives into his upper back, an impish little warning that makes him throb all over. “Don’t talk like that, I said.” Those manicured hands have garnered Toji’s full attention. They descend all the way to the hem of your luxurious dress, wrenching into its hem. It’s the sexiest sight Toji had ever seen: you pulling your dress up with the quickness of a sloth, inching the fabric up until it scrunches around the dip of your waistline. 

“These are hot,” he murmurs, thumbing the waistband of the scarlet panties. They were tight, sinking into the ample pudge of your hips and soft tummy. So fucking beautiful, he thinks, the contrast between deep red lace and the flesh of which it lays upon. The perfect, little present gift wrapped in a low-rise lace thong. “Bet they cost a pretty penny.”

You spare a breathy exhale through your nostrils. “I don’t look at price tags when I buy things for you.”

You bought these just for him? “You spoil me.”

“You deserve to get spoiled, baby.”

He is so mind numbingly turned on. Sickening tendrils of appetence bleed into his vision, his lust coils around his limbs and guide his movements like a marionette. Toji thumbs your—his—panties to the side, soaking in the sight of that pretty pussy he’s longed to be back inside of since the moment he pulled out. His face is close, so fucking close that he can feel warmth radiate off your core and deepen his flush.

Perhaps this is how he begins his journey of repayment. Ever indebted to you, despite your odd relationship being a mutually agreed upon situation, Toji fears you’ve truly altered him. For the better or worse he isn’t sure yet; all he knows is that you make him feel good. Better than he’s felt in fucking ages. You said he deserves to get spoiled? Well so do you, too.

Toji eats you with erotic vigor, delving into the deepest parts of your cunt with his lascivious tongue. He’ll be the first to admit that he doesn’t possess many skills. He isn’t terribly smart, nor is he gifted with great conversational skills like you. He isn't good at holding a real job. Isn’t very good at expressing himself. Not good at abiding by the law, or staying sober, either. But if ever there was an artistry in which Toji had full confidence he had mastered, it was oral sex.

“Oh, Toji,” you gasped, forcing his face deeper with a hand on the back of his skull. “Right there.”

Toji dug you out, excavating your hole with expertise. One hand slipped up beneath your dress, under your bra, pawing at your breast whilst the other busied itself in his pants. He stroked himself to the heady taste of pussy, fanning your clit with hot puffs of breath. You writhe against his open mouth, hips dancing, hands grabbing.

It’s more enjoyable like this, Toji thinks briefly. To not expect a wad of bills afterward in exchange for his velvet tongue. He eats you for leisure, because he wants to, and because you want him, and no other reason. It’s enough that you both need each other.

Toji groans loosely when you yank his hair, getting off on the way you move his head to your liking. “Suck my clit,” you instruct quietly, and he obliges with upmost obedience, nose nuzzling against the tuft of hair at your pubic bone.

Toji opens his eyes for the first time in a while, then thanks God he did. You look something like a goddess, celestial and righteous in the way your body works against his face. Using him to cure an insatiable desperation, with your lids screwed shut and head tossed back on your shoulders. “Are you gonna cum?” He sits up on his haunches a little taller, a little more alert now to fully experience your orgasm. “Cum in my mouth.”

He begs for it. Begs like a little bitch. Over and over again, mumbling the mantra between rough suctions to your swollen clit. Begging wasn’t like him. His father beat the beggar out of him many years ago, said it was weak to yearn for things so badly. The old man was right, Toji has never felt weaker than he does right now, knelt under the table with his head between your thighs.

“Oh my God.” Your voice is strained thin, each syllable pulled taught. The vice grip on his roots start to sting, follicles ripping from the scalp, but doesn’t tell you to stop. “Toji, fuck you’re so good.”

He’s good.

“You’re so good.”

“Mmn.” He squeezes himself, chokes his dick hard. Toji feels it when you cum. Warmth floods the cavern of his slack mouth, gushing and creamy. You fall silent, stunned by the force of your orgasm he presumes. Toji licks you through your high, guzzling down every drop of wetness that seeps from your spasming slit. It’s hot and gushy and messy; cum dribbles past his lips, collecting in beads that roll down his tensing neck.

Only when you blindly push at his face does Toji part ways with your center, leaning past your trembling hand to nuzzle into your stomach. It’s concave with an ongoing exhale; he nips at your navel. “Breathe.”

“Toji,” you whisper. On the come down, you’re a lot nicer; those needy, grabbing hands of yours now stroked down the tangled mess of his damp shag. He presses a handful of sloppy smooches above your belly button.

The erection trapped in the confines of his pants twitch at the dreadfully angelic drawl of his name. “Good?” His question is gruff and pointless as ever; anyone with eyes could tell you just had the most Earth-shattering orgasm of your life.

Your head lolls forward, rolling down to face him. Fingertips brush his chin, collecting the sticky residuals that dampened his stubble. You take your lower lip in between teeth when you bring those same soaked digits to Toji’s open mouth. He doesn’t resist you. Fingers are welcomed; he unhinges his jaw, baring the same holy tongue that just drove you to Heaven. You wipe cum-ridden fingers against the muscle, and Toji clamps around them in a vacuum-esque suction, looking up at you through dark lashes all the while. Your thumb traces the raised flesh on his upper lip. That ugly, jagged scar.

He catches your wrist when you move to flee his mouth, holding you in place. Sucking on you, touching himself along the way. Lapping between fingers, tonguing the thin web of skin there.

“So good, baby boy.” There’s the praise he craved, the praise he played oblivious to get. You claw deeper, jutting towards the back of his throat, pulling a scratchy gag from the man. What kind of fetish was this? You made everything sexy, even whatever this humiliation ritual was; watching him choke down slippery fingers with fat tears bleeding at his waterline. “You are so beautiful, Toji.”

“—oh en nah,” or no I’m not had there not been a barrier blocking his teeth from touching. Toji knows he’s an aged man, one riddled with scars and wounds and bruises and gauges and what have you. His skin is nowhere near perfect, baring disgusting reminders of what he does—who he is. Beautiful is what he’d call someone like you. Someone calm and serene, humble and kind. You’re a beautiful sight, and you’re also the complete and utter opposite of him.

“You are.” He wanted to be inside you for this. Toji had been daydreaming this scenario over and out in his head over the long haul of the week, going through the motions of his plan to fuck you. He’d give you everything tenfold, a barbaric fucking unlike your first time together. He imagined finally showing you his version of things, bending you over the couch first thing and blowing his load deep into your cunt.

Toji choked again, and a single thick tear fell from his lashes. You whispered sweet prayers, holding his face, wiping his eyes, fucking his mouth with fingers that tasted of your cum. It was a damn mystery how you rendered him so fucking pitiful, to be nutting on his knees into his boxers like this. A damn mystery.

His breaths are ragged when he explodes, hand and cock obscured by the sweatpants that sat low around his hips. Toji doesn’t stop pumping, tugging the shaft with long, hard strokes, wringing himself dry. Dark eyes weld shut, and he collapses against your thigh with a quake of exhaustion. Toji doesn’t know when you withdrew your fingers; the only tell that gave it away was the string of saliva that slapped coldly against his chin in the wake of your removal. He mewls, a graveling sound that sounds as if his voice box had been dragged through a sea of razor blades.

“You alright?”

A flowery hand slithers beneath his damp cheek, and suddenly his heavy head is being lifted. Toji is forced to meet your soft gaze; adoration brims in your eyes, as though you’re proud of him for creaming in his briefs like some flimsy virgin.

“Answer me, please.”

Toji smacks his mouth, preparing for his voice to project broken and fragmented. “I’m fine.” He could do without the pity; you were cautious to a fault. He wasn’t made of glass.

“You’re filthy.”

He grumbles, feigning grumpiness and averting his eyes off to the side. “I just had your pussy in my mouth.”

You bend at the waist, leaning down to meet him for a kiss. Toji melts against you, cradling your face with his semen-stained hand. You don’t seem to mind the wetness. He’s pouting against your mouth, childlike. “I wanted to cum inside you.”

You latch onto his nose, nibbling the point. “Let’s go clean up.” There’s a telling smile etched onto your lips, and your mouth finds his ear. Whispering ever so sensually, “I have a big shower in my bedroom.”

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[kittyball23]

Reactive (a Trolls fanfic)

Summary: Branch is captured by Velvet and Veneer… and the news does not sit well with Poppy

A/N: A small rewrite of the scene in my oneshot "The Trade" as requested by @webslingerofthegalaxy, who suggested the possibility of Poppy having a different reaction to learning of Branch being captured :)

__________________________________________

“This I promise you…”

As Branch held on to the last note of the song, the doll-like siblings' full attention had gone to him. They faced him, a look of astonishment clear on their faces. Clearly, they hadn’t expected Branch to confront them by breaking out singing at random. Nor did they expect him to sound that… good.

Velvet looked at Veneer. Veneer looked at Velvet.

Branch glanced at the two of them.

“Once again, I’ve come here to ask that you release my brother, Floyd.”

The twins grew a malicious smile on each of their faces. “Well,” Veneer said.

“Perhaps we can work out a compromise,” Velvet said, finishing the thought.

__________________________________________

In the meantime, Poppy had made her way back to John Dory, Spruce, and Clay, having explained with much distress of what had occurred when she’d spoken to Branch after he and his brothers argued.

“I tried,” she said, nearly on the verge of tears. “I really did try. And I know he can change his mind. But it doesn’t look like it’s going to happen right now…”

The brothers hung their heads. They figured Branch would not be easily convinced to come back, but they could not be mad about it. It was understood why.

“I guess we’ll just have to wait,” Spruce said, a bit defeated.

John Dory gave a shrug of agreement, unable to think of anything else, and hoping that the wait for their brother to come back around wouldn’t be too long.

“Or maybe you don’t have to,” Clay said, suddenly perking up and pointing behind them. “Look!”

The Trolls turned to look in the direction he was pointing and, sure enough, running towards them was the figure of a Troll.

Poppy gasped. “Branch!” She began to run towards him, trying to meet him halfway, when she started to slow her pace after getting a better look. Wait a second. This Troll was not her boyfriend. This nearly-out-of-breath Troll who was sprinting towards them did share some slight similarities to him, though instead of a crop of rich blue hair on his head, it was a vibrant magenta, styled to where part of the bangs obscured his left eye. A single black earring was embedded into his right ear. She reared back in surprise, recognizing him at once. “Floyd?”

Floyd panted, trying to catch his breath. “Yes, yes, it’s me.” He gave a small wave when the other brothers instantly flanked Poppy’s sides, also as surprised to see Floyd before them now.

“Yo bro, it’s good to see you’re okay!” John Dory exclaimed. “You are okay, right?”

Floyd quickly checked himself, ensuring that he was uninjured. “Um, yeah, I think so.” Though he said it, the Trolls could still see that something still wasn’t quite right. He looked very shaken… and extremely worried.

“Dude, how did you escape?” Spruce asked.

“Yeah, those weirdos were something fierce and nasty!” Clay added.

Floyd said nothing at first, looking as though he was recalling something painful. He averted his gaze and looked down at the ground, looking almost ashamed. Poppy felt worry start to prick at her now. Something's not right here... but I need to find out WHAT. She moved closer to Floyd, putting a hand on his shoulder. He flinched at the unexpected touch, but welcomed it. He really needed the comfort right now.

“Floyd,” Poppy said gently, her voice lowered. “Can you tell us what happened? Please?”

The magenta Troll was silent, but he nodded his head, able to find the voice to finally explain. “It was Branch.”

Poppy stiffened at the mention of her boyfriend. But she needed to hear this. “Branch?” she asked.

Floyd nodded. “He came, not too long ago. He asked them to let me go and when they didn’t… h-he sang.” He stopped, recalling the moment. He shook his head. “I never got a chance to hear Branch really sing when we were kids. But now, it… it sounds like… like…”

“Like an angel’s,” Poppy finished, familiar with how beautiful his voice could sound.

“Exactly,” Floyd agreed. “And they seemed to think so, too. So now I’m out here, and he’s…” The Troll trailed off, unable to bear finishing his sentence.

From behind him and Poppy, the three brothers gasped. “They took him!” John Dory exclaimed.

Floyd nodded, looking terribly guilty. “He didn’t have to do it. I wasn’t worth it. I left him!” he cried, wishing more than ever that he could change what happened in the past.

Everyone was quiet for a moment, taking in this new information with grim understanding.

Then, suddenly, Poppy spoke.

“They… took… BRANCH?!”

The brothers were startled out of the silence when Poppy’s voice raised on octave. When glancing at her, they were incredibly surprised to find that the happy-go-lucky Pop Queen had her face twisted in anger and her fists clenched. “They took OUR Branch?? MY Branch?!” she yelled out again.

Floyd felt himself tear up. “I-I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean for it to happen…” he whimpered.

Poppy whirled on him. “Floyd, I’m not mad at you, I’m mad at THEM!” she shouted, pointing back in the direction the magenta Troll had come from, in reference to Velvet and Veneer. She gritted her teeth, her cheeks turning red and her body trembling with rage. “I can let a lot of things slide,” the Queen began icily, “They can go off and be big phony-baloneys all they want… but not with any of you… and definitely not with MY BOYFRIEND!!”

Poppy glared daggers in the direction of his kidnappers. They were still back there in their dressing room, probably getting ready to get up into their talent-stealing antics once again. That image of Branch being sealed in a diamond bottle - getting the lifeforce sucked right out of him, draining him, making him weaker and weaker - made her blood boil, and suddenly imaginations of a very unqueenly-like nature began to flash through her mind - of beating the cupcakes out of those two fakers, of trapping them in some diamond prison and seeing how THEY liked it, of forcing them to free her beloved through any torturous means necessary…

But then she realized where she actually was, seeing the shocked look on his brothers' faces, and realizing how angry she had gotten.

Poppy sighed, feeling it drain out of her a little. "Sorry, guys, it's just… those bastards! They're gonna hurt Branch the same way they hurt Floyd!"

"Girl, you got a HUGE right to be angry!" John Dory replied, not at all disturbed. He was impressed, if anything, for how riled up she got, for it showed how much she really cared about him.

"We can't let anything happen to Branch," Floyd said, "... but how?"

"I'll tell you how," Poppy said, feeling every bit determined. "We're gonna band together so we can save him!"

"She's correctamundo!" JD replied. "It wasn't just you who walked out on him, Floyd... we ALL did," he said, gesturing to himself, Spruce, and Clay. "You were worth it, bro. Because you’re his brother. And Branch is our brother. And those days of walking-out-on-each-other are over. You know why?”

Spruce did, seeing where JD was going with this, and he piped up. “Because we’re a family.”

“And families are there for each other!” Clay added.

"Exactly!" Poppy cried. Then she thrust her hand out in front of her. "So who's with me?"

The hands of John Dory, Spruce, and Clay shot out to join hers. Floyd, still feeling bad for what had occurred, hesitated a second. He didn't know what she or his brothers had in mind, but what he did know was that he wasn't going to let his baby brother down. Not again. So he, too, placed his hand on time of theirs and threw it up in the air when they all did.

“IT’S BRO-TIME!” came the collective shout.

John Dory quickly huddled them together, all the Trolls’ heads nearly touching each other as the group formed a tight circle.

“All right, we need a new game plan,” the BroZone leader said, more determined than ever. “And I think I got just the one. It’s going to take ALL of us, though, so listen in…”

So Poppy, Spruce, Clay, and Floyd did listen in, adding their own input when sought necessary and tweaking what was needed to be tweaked. Soon enough, their plan did indeed start to come together, and soon enough they set themselves into executing the ambitious task.

Dangerous? Maybe. Worth it? One-hundred percent.

[dullgecko]

I've been thinking of flavoured coffees because it's almost pumpkin spice season and I was thinking about how Riz would either really like them or hate them. No in between.

Riz wasn't really paying attention to what was going on around him, the rogue perched on the edge of a dining room table at Mordred as he tried to sort out the mess that was one of Kristen's history papers.

Kristen had been sitting at the table with him at one point to at least try to look like she was doing her own homework but he'd sent her away when she started trying to spin pens around her fingers like he did. She'd failed badly enough that it had flown out of her hand and bounced off the goblins glasses with a loud thwaking noise, startling him into spilling his coffee he'd been mid sip drinking.

They'd managed to save their notes but now the rogue was sullen and cranky without his caffeine. His pen making clicking noises against his claws as he spun it around and around as he tried to focus on Kristen's terrible handwriting. He was tempted to just scrap the entire thing and rewrite it for her but he didn't think he could replicate her horrible chickenscratch convincingly. Plus, his mom had caught him doing one if Figs assignments for her last week and made him promise to stop; he had enough work on his plate already without doing his friends school work for them as well.

And so, here he was, doing the infinitely harder and more time consuming task of proofreading Kristen's work for her. He'd honestly had cyphers in his rogue classes that were easier to crack and the lack of caffeine was just making it harder. He couldn't even make a new cup because they were out of instant coffee, but hopefully Jawbone would be home soon with groceries.

Riz took off his glasses, holding them in one hand so he could lay his forehead against the relatively cold surface of the dining room table. Not looking up when he heard the front door of the manor open and someone sat down with a thump on the opposite side of the table from him.

He could hear them shuffling around his mess of balled up papers, most of them getting knocked onto the floor, before something was placed down in their place.

"I have brought you provisions The Ball." Fabian tapped the top of Rizs head, the goblin rolling it to the side to squint at the large take away cup now sitting next to him. His glasses hitting the table with a clatter as he grabbed the hot cup and dragged it over closer.

"Uuuugh yessss. This is why you're my best friend. How did you know?"

"Adaine sent me a prophetic warning that this would be your villain origin unless we acted fast." The fighter laughed when Riz made a noise of agreement, the goblin sitting up and taking a sip of the drink and immediately pulling a face.

"Ugh. I think /this/ might be my villain origin actually. What the hell is this?" He took another sip, the drink making his face tingle as the combination of sugar and caffeine hit his tongue. On second taste it wasn't bad but it certainly wasn't what he was expecting.

"One of those fancy flavoured drinks they have this time of year. Pumkin spice, but I think it's just caramel, nutmeg and cinnamon. No pumpkin at all. I thought it was quite nice." Fabian sipped his own, watching the goblins face journey as they drank some more and tried to work out if they liked it or not.

"Huh... alright then. I mean it's not /bad/ but I wasn't expecting it. Guess it caught me off guard. Thanks." He put the drink down, tongue darting out to lick some of the foam off his lips as he reached for his glasses. "Hmmm yeah. I think I like it."

"Excellent. Do try to pace yourself with it though. It's got three shots of espresso in it and enough sugar to kill an ogre."

Fabian, unfortunately, didn't know what kind of evil he had just unleashed though. Especially because now that Riz had gotten a taste of the fancy flavoured coffees Fabian preferred he wanted /more/. The only problem was they cost fourteen silver from the good coffee shop downtown, compared to the six bronze coins his usual sludgy gas station coffee cost him. Riz was in a foul mood for weeks when he found this out.

[bonesandthebees]

trick or treat!! any sandduo?

found a scene from stars that I ended up cutting and rewriting to make it a bit less soft because I felt like it didn't fit the characters at that point in the story yet lol

“Orpheus,” Phil then said, his voice shifting to something much softer than before, “what’s really going on?”  Again, there was something about Phil’s words that acted like oil on troubled seas—it calmed the waves, and he was finally able to hear himself think again. And as he forced more icy air into his lungs, he was also forced to acknowledge the real question sitting on the tip of his tongue.  “I just- I don’t understand. Even if you don’t care what they say, wouldn’t it be easier to not deal with those questions at all?” Wilbur asked, glancing up at Phil between his fingers. “You didn’t have to give me a private room here. You didn’t have to invite me to take meals with you. I mean, you even granted me permission to come see you whenever I needed. There was no reason for you to do any of that.” His breathing hitched as a shudder ran down his spine. “I don’t get it. Why are you doing all of this for me when it’s just causing you trouble?”  There was something vulnerable lying under his words. A fragility he didn’t mean to put into his voice. Because he could guess the answers to his questions well enough. This could all be manipulation. Some game for Phil to gain Wilbur’s trust. But what was the point of that anymore? It clearly had nothing to do with the negotiations. And while Phil had once said he wanted to carve Wilbur into something more, so much had changed between them since that night. Phil encouraged his anger, but didn’t force it into a specific shape. He offered him advice, but never demanded his attention.  Suddenly, there was a hand on Wilbur’s shoulder, and he found himself leaning into the singular source of warmth in the room.  “Why shouldn’t I?” Phil asked simply.

hope you enjoy! happy halloween!

[dutifullylazybread]

I am so in love with your story Deeply and Immovably So. I am heavily invested, I am a bit embarrassed to say that right as I found your story I was writing my own fic falling into the same theme of Tav and Rolan living in the tower together. I am currently rewriting my story to make sure I keep our stories different.

I guess I wanted to ask you a question, how did you mange to write a story all in one go? I tend to write in fragments and post my chapters one at a time. I guess If you could give me some advice on writing series and how you approach it?

Your amazing and can't wait for the chapter update on Friday!

I'm so glad you like the story!! :D. I'm honestly not worried about there being similarities between our fics. One key point for Rolan's character is establishing a home for his family after what happens in Elturel. On top of that, Tav (even a Balduran Tav) doesn't actually have a home that we can ever visit, so gravitating towards staying in the tower makes a lot of sense! So if that is a big part of your story and it would be strongly affected by you changing that part of it, don't feel like you must make those revisions. I'd rather you be happy with where you story is than worry about similarities like that. Regardless, I'm really excited to read your fic! If you'd like, please drop me a link when you begin posting! :)

As far as how I wrote the fic all out? I won't lie, I haven't really ever thought about my process, so when you asked, I sorta resembled Patrick (more below the image, I promise!):

That being said though, I can definitely share how I wrote the fic and how I am working with the story now, but my big rule with writing is that writers should do what works best for them--what works for me might not necessarily work for someone else. So if what works best for you is posting as you finish chapters, then absolutely do that. There are some extremely talented writers in the Rolan x Tav corner that do the same or something similar. If you haven't read @underdark-dreams's A Strand to Climb, @lemonsrosesandlavender's Sharp Teeth, or @graysparrowao3's What If Rolan Was A Companion? I highly recommend them (and not just these fics--the rest of their repertoires are delicious too!).

This is my tl;dr for my explanation below--I can be super long-winded (I'm sorry about that!!). Like I said, this is what works for me, but if you don't think these things jive with you, then do what you feel is best for you and your story. :)

Write the story out first. Don't edit until you have finished the fic.

If you run into a writing wall, work on a different scene and come back later.

While it's fun to add in details, a lot of that can be supplied during your editing/revisions stages. Worrying too much about this can bog you down when you're in the middle of writing.

Don't immediately jump into editing your story after finishing a chapter. Take anywhere from a few days to a week to let the draft sit before you work on it again.

Avoid burnout - take care of yourself and take brain breaks.

Here are the longer explanations:

Write the story out first. Don't edit until you have finished writing the fic.

I started writing the Rolan x Tav story as my NaNoWriMo project back in November and I kept working on it through December. For those who may not be familiar, NaNoWriMo is short for National Novel Writing Month, and the goal is to write 50,000 words in a month. These do not have to be good words, they just have to be words on a page. So already out of the gate, I knew that, if I wrote this fic, it might not be well-written at first, but it would be a story. I had to give myself permission to write a bad draft, basically, and that is sometimes the hardest thing in the world (I am still irked by it). If you're anything like me, the thought of not having perfection on the page during a first writing pass feels awful. BUT I do sincerely believe it is why I wrote as much as I did in two months. Because I just focused on writing and not editing. And, if I could tell I was getting close to hitting a wall, I would make a note in my manuscript to come back, and then I'd keep writing the chapter. My notes are parentheses that basically say (Add more detail here), (make scene more sexy), (Review dialogue exchange). It's really weird to write down, but when I'm writing and struggling, it honestly feels like my brain is coming up against an actual wall. Basically, I'm giving myself a headache. BUT this is my warning sign to come back later, because I'm getting too lost in the weeds and I won't be happy with the end result of whatever I force out.

2. If you run into a writing wall, work on a different scene and come back later.

The rationale for coming back and working through the wall later comes from a combination of reasons: 1) From past experience, forcing myself through a block can work, but it is the most agonizing experience ever. And it is exhausting. Writing can be exhausting, that is okay. BUT, what if I force myself through the block and then I'm unhappy with the result? For me personally, pushing against a block/wall can feed into burnout. So 2) it's better to take a break and work on a part of the story that I am excited to pursue and then revisit the wall later, because 3) if you let yourself take a brain break, you're going to come back and find that the wall isn't really a wall anymore. If anything, it's a really fun idea. You just needed to come back when the lighting was different.

3. While it's fun to add in details, a lot of that can be supplied during your editing/revisions stages. Worrying too much about this can bog you down when you're in the middle of writing.

I find that, while I am in the drafting stages, I often write at a pelt. I do my best to write the first draft well, but I write so quickly that I might not pause to ask, "So what does the setting look like exactly? What color is the sky? How does the Chionthar look at this moment? What does it smell like?" Some of those details might make it in while I'm drafting, but I think that I focus in on those during editing/revision, because that is when I let myself slow down and focus on the details.

4. Don't immediately jump into editing your story after finishing a chapter. Take anywhere from a few days to a week to let the draft sit before you work on it again.

Due to how I wrote this fic, I didn't actually revisit a lot of these chapters until about a month or two later. And that has led to a combination of "Hey, this isn't too bad," to "What were you thinking??" BUT, I do sit quite firmly in the camp that taking a few days to just breathe and not immediately jumping into editing helped give me a fresh perspective. When we spend so much time working on our stories, it goes without saying that we are very close to what we are working on, and sometimes that can work against us. SO, putting some distance between yourself and the chapter in question can help you identify what needs to be cleaned up/revised when you return to it.

5. Avoid burnout - take care of yourself and take brain breaks.

In my experience, one thing that stopped me from working on long fics was burnout. For previous fanfic projects I tried to work on, all of my free time would be poured into writing, and not a lot of it would be used to relax. I would work on these stories nonstop. I would argue that this is probably why several long-form fanfictions don't get finished by several writers (and that's not even considering how school, work, and family obligations might also take a toll on your energy). The last thing you want is to feel apathetic or frustrated over the thought of working on your story, so taking the time to relax and take care of yourself. While I think having a writing habit is extremely helpful, I also think taking an evening to just relax once a week is just as nice. Typically, I start writing around 7 pm every night, and I'll wrap up around 10:30 pm - 11:00 pm. BUT, I don't do any intense work on Mondays (since that is D&D night in my house).

I hope that this helps! But again, do what you think is best for you. I'm super excited to read your fic!!! :D

[tamsyien]

teaser to my scara one shot (^3^)/～☆ tbh im starting to not like the backstory/intro i've written so far. its just so long and i feel like people will get bored of it HAHAHA i'll prolly rewrite it 🤷‍♀️

the snow crunches under your feet, eyes roaming around the icy terrain of snezhnaya. you shiver, puffs of smoke coming out of your mouth as you continue to walk.

the environment was cruel, pine trees covered in snow, and the path barely visible due to the heavy snow. after a while, you see the edges of a small village. tightening your scarf around your neck, you approach the guards stationed at the gate. they were wearing a black uniform with outlines of red. the fatui.

"greetings, ma'am." one of them stepped towards you, "may i know what's the purpose of your visit?" he asked, placing his hand on his chest.

"i am a traveler, hoping to seek refuge in this village and bide my time until the next day." you reply. the two guards look at one another before nodding.

"i wish you the best of luck on your journey, ma'am. we advise that you stay indoors once the moon rises, for monsters frequently roam around the village at night." they inform you. you nod, thanking them and entering the village.

the village was bustling with life, despite it being below freezing temperature. you guessed they got used to it with time. you ask around the village where you can stay, where one of them points you to a nearby inn. entering the inn, you were immediately hit with a wave of warmth. the fireplace was crackling, and soft chatter filled the space as around a dozen people were conversing with each other. you got out of your daze when you heard footsteps near you.

"good afternoon, ma'am! may i help you?" a kind looking girl greeted you, a vibrant smile on her face.

"oh, yes. i'd like to stay the night here." you say, the girl's smile never leaving her face. "of course! over here, please." she leads you to a counter, presumably where you'll be checking in, and assigns you a room. after paying, you climb the stairs to a hallway with multiple doors on either side. getting to your room wasn't an issue, as it was fairly close to the stairway. unlocking the door, you push it open, the warmth of a fireplace greeting you. you close the door, observing the room. it was cozy and smelled like pine and burnt charcoal.

sitting down on the chair near the window, you slowly stretch your limbs, slightly sore from all the walking and fighting you had to do. the sky was quickly turning into a blend of beautiful orange and dark blue as the moon peaks over the mountains. the villagers that were previously out and about were now inside their homes, replaced by guards and some fatui patrolling the village. the snowstorm had calmed down for a bit, but now it's stronger than before. you can't help but feel a bit bad for the guards at fatui out in the mercy of the elements.

you shake your head, it was time for bed, no use dwelling on those thoughts. closing the blinds, you get ready for bed. you needn't a lantern as the light from the fireplace was enough to maneuver around the small room. laying on the bed, you pull the sheets over you, drifting off to sleep. you can barely hear the distant sound of gears, strings, and a peaceful lullaby before everything goes dark.

--

the morning sun combined with a distant whirring sound stirs you awake. the snow storm is gone and is replaced by the bright rays of the sun. if it weren't for the thick snow and the cold air, you'd believe you were in any region with snow.

sitting up, you stretch your limbs. as you prepare for the day, you mentally note the things you have to get done.

better to leave early so you can finish early. you mentally sigh as you go down the stairs and into the ground floor of the inn. you wave goodbye to the girl from last night and step foot outside. the cold air instantly bites your exposed skin, making it rosy. the village was once again filled with life. workers trudging through the snow and houses letting out warm steam from cooking breakfast. a slow and peaceful life was nice, and if you have the chance, you'd choose to stay here.

ngl im starting to hate this

give me criticism pls

`♤` @minvtte

[summerwritesfics]

💥And I Know You Won’t Remember Memories In Ember, Chapter 2 - Call My Name And Save Me From The Dark

Pairing: Hanzo Hasashi/Kuai Liang Length: 4428 Words Rating: Mature Warnings: Canon Divergence (Takes place instead of the MKX comics Kamidogu Saga), Whump Torture, Canon-Typical Violence, Non-Consensual Drug Use, Abduction, Hostage Situations, NSFK (Not Safe For Kuai), Hurt/Comfort

And I Know You Won’t Remember Memories In Ember Masterlist

Notes: Ayyyy, Summer updated one of their chaptered fanfics instead of writing 1000 more oneshots? Wtf is going on? Yes it’s true, although I guess this was kinda of a cheat as it’s a rewrite of the WIP I initially had for this one. 🤷🏻 Quick warning: This chapter does involve torture, while a lot of it is offscreen some of it is described in a fair amount of detail. So. Like… heads up I guess. Chapter title is from “Bring Me To Life” by Evanescence.

His eyes fluttered open for a brief moment, only to close them immediately at the far too bright lighting in the room. He tried to reach a hand up to his face, only to find that they were caught under something, not allowing them to move. He chanced opening his eyes again, glancing down to find that his wrists were bound against armrests with thick leather straps, keeping him bound to the chair he was sitting on.

Blinking a few times, he tried to let himself get used to the light, so he could glance around the room.

This place was completely unfamiliar to him. It was a blank white room with an oddly clinical feel to it. The only other things in the room were a table in front of him, and on the other side of it, it looked like a video camera was set up and pointed directly at him. There was a large metal door positioned at the other end of the room.

Trying to move one of his legs revealed they were also strapped to the chair. The majority of his armour and clothing had been removed, leaving him in only his tank top and his trousers.

His mind raced as he tried to remember how he got here. He remembered the feeling of being watched, the confrontation with the man in the suit, going to the inn to get a drink of water and… Well, it was all a bit of a blur after that, only the vague memory of feeling dizzy and someone lifting him up off the floor.

Shit, I was drugged. 

How they’d managed to do so, he wasn’t sure. From what he remembered, the inn had been mostly empty, aside from a handful of patrons. The only person who touched his drink beside himself was the bartender. So… was she in on it? Fuck. He hadn’t stood a chance if that was the case.

Regardless, he didn’t exactly want to stick around and figure out why someone had drugged him. He gripped the armrests with both hands, intending to freeze and shatter them, freeing his arms and allowing him to get away.

Except, no ice was coming. He grunted and tried to concentrate harder, but all he could feel was a strange tingling sensation through his veins. He tried again, harder this time, the tingling became a full out sting and he sucked air in through his teeth. What’s going on? Why are my powers failing me? Why now of all moments? 

Suddenly the door opened, a fair skinned man in a black suit and wearing sunglasses walked in. Kuai didn’t recognise him, he wasn’t one of the men who’d been following him at least. But the second this man’s eyes landed on Kuai Liang, he was grinning.

“Ah, I see you’re finally awake, sleeping beauty,” the man said with a chuckle as he shut the door behind him. He walked up to the table, placing down a suitcase on it. “It’s good to finally meet you in person, Sub Zero. I have heard a lot about you.” The man tilted his head slightly. “Do you mind if I call you Kuai Liang instead?”

Was this man some sort of government agent? But for which government? It was concerning that he knew Kuai’s name. Not just his codename, but his birth name, the name only those he was closest to knew about.

“Am I supposed to know who you are?” Kuai questioned, trying to keep his head high, but it was lolling around slightly, still heavy from whatever drug he’d been slipped.

“Oh, no, you have no idea who I am. I know who you are though.” The man was smirking to himself as he sat down on the table. “You can call me Agent X if you would like.”

“My apologies,” Kuai started in the best bored tone he could muster in the moment, “I wasn’t aware I’d walked into a cliché convention.”

To his surprise, Agent X began to chuckle, “for someone so cold, you have quite the fiery tongue.” 

Kuai clenched his fist, trying to summon even the smallest amount of ice, but all that came was that sting. X tilted his head, eyes flicking down to Kuai’s hands, clearly knowing what he was trying to do.

“Ah, I’m afraid you’ll find you do not currently have the ability to use your powers.” X reached forward, placing a couple of fingers against the side of Kuai’s neck. Glancing to where they were, Kuai could just about make out a bruise. “We’ve been working on this serum for a long time. To help make people like yourself more… Well… Agreeable to work with.” He pressed the fingers in harder, and Kuai bared his teeth at the dull ache. “You’ll find they’ll be out of commission for the next few hours. Most likely longer since I’ll be giving you top ups.”

“You seem to have gone through a lot of trouble to get me here,” Kuai stated, glad when X moved his hand from his neck.

“Yes. Although, not for the reasons I would have liked.” X pushed himself off the table, slowly meandering around it to reach the camera. “But it’s my higher up’s choice. They aren’t as interested in you personally as I am, they have rather different reasons for you being here.”

“What reasons?” He watched as X started to set the camera to record. Or at least, that’s what he assumed the now blinking light on it meant. “Who are you working for and what do they want from me?”

“Well, I can’t tell you who I work for, but I can tell you that we don’t want anything from you as such.” X walked off from the camera, making his way back up to where Kuai was tied to the chair. He looped back around behind the chair, placing his hands on Kuai’s shoulders and causing him to tense up. “You are familiar with a man named Hanzo Hasashi, correct?”

“What does he have to do with this?” His first thoughts were that whoever these people were had been hired by the ex-wraith to take Kuai out. But he highly doubted Hanzo Hasashi would want Kuai to succumb to anyone’s hand beside his own.

“He has information that we require.” One of the hands on his shoulders tightened while the other came to cup his chin, forcing him to look at the camera. “You’re going to be the motivation for him to give us that information.”

That didn’t make sense to Kuai. Given how intently these people seemed to have been watching him, surely they would know that Hasashi wouldn’t fold to his bitter enemy being tortured. At least, Kuai assumed he was about to be tortured, he highly doubted if they were going to offer him some sort of deal they’d drug him and keep him tied to a chair.

“Sorry to be the bearer of bad news,” Kuai started, attempting to shake the hand off his chin. The grip just tightened further and continued to force him to look towards the camera. “But Hanzo Hasashi doesn’t care one way or another what happens to me.”

“Perhaps,” Agent X practically purred in his ear. Kuai definitely got the impression whatever was about to happen was deeply intimate to X. It was extremely unnerving if he was being honest. “By the time I’m done with you, you’ll wish he did.”

Finally the agent’s hands released Kuai, and he hadn’t realised how uneasy the unwanted hands on his body made him until he gave a sigh of relief. X went around the side of him, back towards the suitcase on the table. He clicked it open, revealing all manner of weaponry and torture implements. Knives, hammers, power drills, some vials of something, some things that looked like they could give a nasty electric shock.

So, I was right, he is going to torture me. 

The Lin Kuei had vigorous training in regards to torture, making sure none of their assassins would ever break under the hands of their enemies and give access to their deepest secrets. Except Agent X wasn’t after Lin Kuei secrets, and it wasn’t Kuai he was banking on breaking.

If Hanzo Hasashi is smart, he’ll know I’ve been trained to take this. 

“Now then.” And once more, X’s hand was gripping Kuai’s chin. Kuai had no idea why that was worse than the thought of the torture he was about to go through. “Which of my toys shall I start with first?”

He could feel blood dripping down his body, although he couldn’t pinpoint which of his many injuries it was coming from. He was just barely holding onto consciousness throughout the pain and blood loss.

Agent X had not held back on his torture, and Kuai would have been impressed if it wasn’t him that it was being inflicted on. It had started with electrocution, increasing the strengths of shocks a little at a time until they practically burnt him. The knife had been used to cut and stab him, he’d had his skin ripped by the claw of the hammer before the flats had been slammed against his fingers. With how swollen they were, he’d definitely broken more than a few. The worst so far had been when X had brought out the power drill, placing it against his biceps and thighs and pressing the button to full power. How the fuck he’d managed to stop himself from screaming when he felt the drill bit hit his bones, he’d never know.

He wasn’t sure how long this had been going on, just that he’d been injected with whatever was in the vials several times throughout everything. He’d come to the conclusion that it was the so-called serum. If it lasted a couple of hours at a time, he had to be at least 10 hours into the torture, and he was actually somewhat amazed he hadn’t blacked out yet. The camera had been removed at some point, presumably to send the footage to Hasashi. That hadn’t stopped X however. Currently, they seemed to be taking some sort of break, just for X to decide what he wanted to do next.

Kuai was starting to get the feeling that Agent X was far more interested in hurting Kuai than whatever information it was they needed.

“I must say, I’m almost disappointed,” X spoke for the first time in a while. He was standing off somewhere to Kuai’s right, but he didn’t have the energy to try and look in that direction. “All these things I’ve done to you, and I haven’t managed to get one scream out of those pretty little lips of yours.”

“You’d have to take me to dinner first,” Kuai just about managed to mumble out, his voice slurred. It was probably not the best thing to say in this situation, but it was all he could possibly do to still show what defiance he had left.

“Oh, still so much fire,” Agent X chuckled. Kuai felt the other man’s hand trail across his collar bone, then suddenly he was in front of Kuai once more. He was looking down at Kuai with a positively evil grin, and Kuai got the distinct feeling he was going to regret provoking him. “I’d like to try one last time.”

Kuai was surprised when he felt Agent X’s weight pressing down on his thighs, the other man now straddling his lap. Kuai jerked in his chair, hissing at how it caused his injuries to start hurting again. X took hold of his face with one hand, forcing it to one side. All Kuai could see in the corner of his eye was X’s manic face and the knife being slowly brought towards the top of his head.

The knife was pressed against his skin, and slowly X began to drag it down, hard but slow. Kuai began to quake from the pain, closing his right eye, blood immediately pouring down his face. He could feel the blade scraping against his skull, hell, he could fucking hear it echoing against his brain. By the time the knife was at his eyebrow, Kuai couldn’t hold back any longer, as a blood curdling scream ripped from the back of his throat.

“Yes! Yes that’s what I want,” X exclaimed cheerfully. The knife kept travelling down, and he could feel it push against his eyelid, splitting it effortlessly. He kept screaming, terrified that it had broken past and damaged his eyeball. “Keep going, you’re doing so well.”

His cheek was next, the knife dug so deep into his flesh Kuai wouldn’t be surprised if it broke through to his mouth. All Kuai could do was scream, the agony was just so much. Too much. They said everyone had a breaking point. Kuai guessed this was his.

The pain was so great, he didn’t even notice when X finally finished his work and removed the knife. Kuai felt his face being forced forward again. He didn’t dare try to open his right eye, he could feel his flesh beginning to swell up, that entire part of his face still burning.

“There, that wasn’t so hard, now was it?” X patted Kuai’s hair in a condescending manner.

Kuai hiccuped, his left eye welling up with tears. He tried to hold back, he refused to cry in front of this man the way he did as a child, but his body betrayed him completely. He began to brokenly sob, pulling on his restraints like that would help him.

“W-why?” Kuai got out between his cries. “Why are- are you st-still doing this?”

The camera was gone. There was no reason for X to still be torturing him. Why was he still going?

“Oh. I think I’ve given you the wrong impression here.” X’s hand tangled in Kuai’s short hair, yanking on it and causing him to yelp. “I do apologise, let me explain it to you more clearly.” X lent forward, until his eyes were directly in front of Kuai Liang’s. “You are never leaving here.”

Kuai’s stomach dropped. “What do you mean?”

“The deal with my higher ups was that once your use to them had come to an end, that I get to keep you,” X explained, voice full of giddy glee like a child who’d been given a new toy.

“Keep me?” Kuai choked on his own spit, now feeling rage boil up. “I’m not a pet.”

“Oh, but I had the loveliest baby blue collar selected out for you.” X released his grip, hands going to Kuai’s tank top. He took the knife to the top of it, using it to start slicing through it. “You see, you are extremely fascinating Kuai Liang, even amongst others with your power set, you are so very unique. I would be a fool to let you walk away when I have the chance to really understand how you work.”

“Fuck you,” Kuai growled, teeth bared as X cut away the remains of his top.

“Don’t worry, I won’t kill you.” X slowly began to carve something into Kuai’s chest. A glance down revealed he was cutting in the same sort of pattern that’d be used to perform an autopsy. “I just want to study you. And well, if I have to tear you apart and put you back together to do that effectively? It’ll be worth it.”

The knife now dug into his stomach, like X intended to gut him right there and then. He could feel his entire body shudder, shaking his head vigorously. Fuck, god, this is a dream, just a really bad dream, please I want to wake up now away from all this. Please, fucking please… 

He felt the knife push deeper inside him, and it was enough to remind him this was all unfortunately, very very real.

Then, the room started to flash red, and a loud alarm blared.

Agent X immediately pulled away, and Kuai choked on his own breath from relief.

“What?” X hissed, but Kuai barely registered it between the ear piercing sound of the alarm and the sudden respite it had managed to bring. Right up until X was angling his head to look at him again. “We aren’t finished here. I’ll be back for you, Kuai Liang.”

And like that Agent X was at the door, practically running out of it. Kuai let his head slump down against his chest. The alarm had saved him for now, but he highly doubted it would last that long. His head was pounding, brain screaming at him to do something, to find some way to free himself and get out before X came back and ensured Kuai would never feel freedom again. But he was so tired, all energy had been sucked out of him. He closed his eye, hoping desperately that he’d just pass out and not have to endure anything more, at least for a little while.

His hopes were dashed when he heard the door open again, a set of footsteps slowly approaching him. He did not react, not even to open his eye, just sat in unease, awaiting those unwanted hands all over him. The footsteps stopped, and a hand touched his shoulder. He involuntarily let out a gasp, baring his teeth and bracing himself. The hand lingered, but there was nothing more.

“Sub Zero?” A voice asked, familiar and definitely not Agent X’s.

He opened his eye, turning his head as best he could to see who it was.

Staring down at him was Hanzo Hasashi.

What is he doing here? Hasashi’s face was blank as ever, a man so trained in hiding his emotions and yet there was a stiffness to his body that suggested he wasn’t happy with what he saw in front of him. There was no way he was actually worried about Kuai, it couldn’t be possible. The sickening thought was that he wasn’t actually here, just a hallucination Kuai’s exhausted mind had come up with to give him false hope.

He began to giggle brokenly to himself.

“Oh. I’ve gone insane, haven’t I?” He questioned between laughs, delirium taking hold and his head slumped back down. “Positively mad.”

The hand finally let go of his shoulder, reaching down to his wrist and he felt the strap being undone. He suddenly found he was able to move his right arm. Oh. 

“I’m quite real, I’m afraid,” Hasashi grumbled, bending across to undo the other strap, and then undoing the straps around his ankles. “Can you stand?”

Kuai had no idea, he highly doubted that he could, but decided he was going to try anyway. He pushed himself up onto his feet only for his knees to immediately buckle under his own weight and he went tumbling forward. He was caught by a pair of large arms, snaking around him, falling head first into Hasashi’s chest.

“Okay, okay, I’ve got you,” Hasashi soothed, holding Kuai to his chest with one arm, while he hooked the other under Kuai’s knees and he effortlessly hauled him into a bridal carry. If Kuai was slightly more coherent, he might have made a comment about how easily he was being man handled but his body was feeling heavy in Hasashi’s arms.

The smell of cinders should not have been as comforting as it was in that moment, but Hasashi was warm and after everything he’d just been through it felt like being rescued by an angel. He closed his eye, letting himself be lulled into a peaceful state by the slow rocking of Hasashi’s arms as he began to walk.

Wait, aren’t I bleeding? He had no idea why that thought came to him, but his eye flicked open to find Hasashi’s yellow uniform stained with red.

“Sorry about the blood,” he slurred, closing his eye once more as he heard Hasashi give a somewhat bitter-sounding laugh.

“That is the least of my problems right now, believe me.”

Kuai could believe that, but he didn’t get the chance to say it, as finally his body and mind gave out on him, and his world faded to black.

When he woke up in a soft bed with warm sheets all over him, he was extremely confused. He could feel bandages all over his body, with one wrapped tightly around his head, particularly focused on the right side. He went to push himself to sit up, until his entire body protested the movement with an ache that burned right into his bones. He gave a pained whine, and instead tried to turn his head to look around. He was in a small room, it was decorated in a manor that he recognised as being traditionally Japanese in origin.

That might confirm that Hasashi wasn’t a hallucination or dream.

But the question of why he came to Kuai’s rescue remained.

The sound of a door sliding open caught his attention, and he turned his head to the opposite side of the room to see Hasashi standing in the doorway.

“You’re awake then,” Hasashi stated, sounding strangely reassured by that fact. “How do you feel?”

“Like I was hit by Shao Kahn’s hammer,” he admitted, once more struggling to try and sit up. Hasashi quickly made his way to his side, gently pushing him back down onto the bed.

“Try not to move too much. Your injuries are severe, you need to take it easy and rest.” He sat down on the edge of the bed. “You are also extremely susceptible to infections right now, so we will need to keep a close eye on you. If anything feels wrong at any point, please tell us, even if it doesn’t seem significant.”

“I see.” Kuai agreed, although internally wondering who Hasashi meant by we. A glance around the room told him they were alone, and he hadn’t missed some other third party. He blinked, realising he still didn’t actually know where he was. “Where are we?”

“The Shirai Ryu fire gardens,” Hasashi answered and Kuai couldn’t help but frown. He didn’t want to ask the obvious question. As if he knew what Kuai was thinking, Hasashi mumbled, “I am re-building the Shirai Ryu.”

“Oh.” Good for you. He didn’t voice that thought, his input on such matters wouldn’t be appreciated. “Why did you rescue me?”

Hasashi was silent for a while as he looked away. What little Kuai could see of his face was that impassive blankness that Hasashi wore so well.

“The information they wanted from me had nothing to do with you. It was unfair and dishonourable of them to drag you into it.” That wasn’t the answer that Kuai was expecting, especially the part about it being dishonourable. It did make him curious just what exactly they had wanted to know. “And despite our past animosity, I don’t believe you deserve what they did to you.”

“Oh. Good.” He had no idea how to actually react to that. He guessed it was a good thing that Hasashi didn’t think Kuai deserved cold blooded torture or being kept as some sort of fucked up science experiment. He felt bile in the back of his throat, as the weight of that second part actually hit him. Hasashi would not have known that they wouldn’t have released him. “They weren’t going to release me. Even if you gave them the information, they intended to keep me there.”

Well, Agent X intended to keep him there, but it seemed like the entire agency was enabling his sadistic desires, so it was fair enough to say they were behind it.

Hasashi’s head snapped around to him, eyes wide at this news. There was a weird emotion in his eyes, something like guilt but that couldn’t possibly be it. Hasashi would have had no way to know what was going to happen, given that plan had only been revealed after the camera had been taken away.

“Just before you got there, that… Agent X guy, or whatever the fuck stupid ass name he gave himself.” Kuai could feel his eyes stinging, the humiliation at the thought of being so weak as to end up in that position. “I- He told me he was planning to keep me and… study me or something. I- Just- I-“

He remembered those hands gripping him so tightly, the pressure on his thighs, knife cutting into his face, his shirt being torn away. The condescending way X spoke to him. Kuai began to struggle to breathe. Had the thing about the collar just been a way of taunting him, or had X been serious? Kuai could see it going either way and that thought made him want to throw up.

I- I can’t breathe! 

“Shh, Sub Zero,” Hasashi’s deep voice cut in through his hyperventilation. A gentle hand cradled his face. Hasashi looked at him far kinder than he’d ever seen before, not just at him but at anyone. “You are safe now.”

Kuai tried to slow his breathing, gulping back the lump in his throat. His body was quaking still, but his breathing was starting to get under control.

“I-I’m sorry.” He wasn’t sure why he was apologising. “I- it just hit me and- I- I-“

“You have nothing to apologise for,” Hasashi reassured him. “I understand that this entire ordeal has been traumatic for you. None of this is your fault.” He clenched his fist and a small amount of flame emerged around it. “Believe me, they will not get away with what they have done to you.”

That was odd, but Kuai quickly decided that it wasn’t for his sake. It was more likely that whoever this group of people were, they had used underhanded and disgraceful methods to get what they wanted out of Hasashi. Or at least, that’s the only way it made sense in Kuai’s head. He just couldn’t tell what was happening anymore, his head hurt as much as the rest of his body.

“I should let you get rest,” Hasashi quickly declared, pushing himself up off the bed. “I will be back to check on you later.”

“Right,” Kuai agreed, watching as his saviour walked off towards the doorway. “Um… Thank you.”

“Try to get some sleep,” Hanzo advised, briefly turning around to offer a small smile and nod.

Then, he was leaving the room, shutting the door behind him. With nothing left to do, Kuai closed his eyes and allowed sleep to claim him once more.

⋞ Previous Chapter ≛❀≛ Next Chapter ⋟

[lolacouldnotcareless]

Salut! Ça va?

all your wip titles are super intriguing but I would really love to hear more about any of these ones (you decide!):

the dead should stay dead

mystérieuse disparition

i don't like dreaming

OurHandsMeet

If I Never Call You Home Again

hello dsjbfhsje ça va et toi? :3 <3

sorry for the slight delay in reply dhfhdsj but here we go you shall hear about them all sbfhshdbfjsh

i talked about the dead should stay dead in this ask, but here's another heartbreaking tidbit for you: the younger brother was never alone. his eldest brother might have been dead, but he never was alone. he just couldn't see it. and for everyone else, unaware of his deal, they lost not one, but two dear friends.

mystérieuse disparition is about, you guessed it, a mysterious disappearance jdbhfhjdfb more seriously, the disappearance itself isn't mysterious, but it is treated as such. it's a kind of short story in relation to ursula k le guin's "the ones who walk away from omelas," where in order to have a thriving city full of joy, a child must suffer greatly. everyone knows about that child, and they accept that their joy comes at the price of a child's misfortune. those who cannot accept it walk away from the city and never come back. no one knows what lies further away from omelas, no one knows if those who walked away are even alive. and this is the starting point for my short story: a sister whose sister walked away from omelas is trying her hardest to still live there. her sister's disappearance isn't a mystery: she couldn't bare the price of her constant happiness. but, even if they don't think it, other people tend to say "i don't know why she would disappear like that." and so the sister who stays is left dealing with her own hurt. now the pain has become personal for her

i don't like dreaming is. loosely based on some of my own dreams and some of one of my sisters'. but they are more like. nightmares lmao. it's about grief and fear of someone else's death.

I tell my sister, who is scared when she sees us in her dreams, that I do not always dream of death, or them dying. This is only a half-truth. They do die. But they come back.

OurHandsMeet oh my god listen sit down this risks to take some time. so this is the story of a silly lil baker from the first half of the middle ages who got cursed and has to live trapped in time as he has to discover what was the origin of that curse and how to break it. the silly lil baker, guillemme, becomes a long-suffering lil guy who just wants to die at this point. he has seen to much, more than a thousand years of human history and same mistakes being repeated. throughout time, he helps other cursed people, and among them, another guy whose memory got wiped a few times. that guy picks the name of ambroise. for a hundredish years, they each go in their own lil adventures but meet every 10 years or so, and one day, ambroise doesn't come back to their meeting point. another few dozens of years or so later, guillemme, who still comes every 10 years to the meeting point, discovers ambroise who once more doesn't remember anything and only found this place thanks to some hidden notes he must have written before, which told him to not trust his father, to flee immediately, and to find guillemme as soon as possible. as you can imagine there are also a lot of complicated feelings involved <3 there's also another project with guillemme's sister, yseult, who isn't technically cursed, but it's a benediction which turned out badly, as she and her partner have made the vow to find each other in every lifetime, and they fail so many times she doesn't even want to try anymore. i swear it's a happy ending i swear-

If I Never Call You Home Again is a companion piece to another cql fanfic that i had finished writing but haven't published, and i wrote it so many years ago that i both want to rewrite some passage but i feel like it would also be a travesty to do so? so IINCYHA is from the pov of lan sizhui going on a lil trip with wen ning to discover what is left from their heritage. lan sizhui's part deals with guilt, guilt of being a survivor of some kind, guilt of not having any memories, guilt of forgetting (even if he was barely old enough to form memories and it was all very traumatic). he's conflicted in his identity, as a wen and as a lan. is he a wen, as per his birth, or a lan, as per his upbringing? what if he could councile both?

[quitefair]

Fanfiction Writer Questions!

Was tagged by the very lovely @optiwashere some time ago, and I've only just had the chance to sit down and take a crack at this!

Not gonna tag anybody, but if you read this and want to do it, consider yourself tagged!

(Also this is talking about a lot of fics that I've written but not published because well... that's just how it's been lmao...

1. How many works do you have on AO3?

13 at the moment. I’ve deleted a few things that I’m not entirely proud of/works that I’m planning on rewriting and improving upon.

2. What's your total AO3 word count?

26,031 (my WIP folder has almost 100k words, if we want any comparison)

3. What fandoms do you write for?

Mainly Dragon Age! Although AO3 is misleading… I’ve only got 7 fics on there for Dragon Age. But these don’t include the ones I’ve deleted and also the literal hundreds of WIP documents in my writing folder. It’s become quite a problem. I’ve also been writing for Baldur’s Gate 3 a bit more recently, but those fics are on hold because of lack of time/motivation/the fact I’ve not finished the game yet and want to do my research and understand characterisation and plot better.

4. What are your top 5 fics by kudos?

1. a lesson in grief (T-rated, Vi/Caitlyn from Arcane) 2. slip away (G-rated Gen-fic from Hades 2020) 3. Names (G-rated Fenris/Female Hawke from Dragon Age) 4. Anxious Grief (T-rated, Cassandra Pentaghast/Male Cadash from Dragon Age) 5. Fear and Forgiveness (G-rated, Dorian Pavus/Male Adaar from Dragon Age)

5. Do you respond to comments?

I try to! Every single comment I get is like fuel to my brain so I love and appreciate each one!

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

I think I did toy around with a fic where I left Hawke in the Fade. The process of getting into Fenris’ headspace during that was way too painful for me to continue.

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

Most of my fics tend towards happy endings, even if they pack a lot of angst in the body of em. Of the ones I’ve got published, I’d say Names.

8. Do you get hate on fics?

I haven’t, but then again I post so rarely and sporadically so people forget I even exist huhu.

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

… Yes… (and that’s all im gonna say)

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

I’ve not written crossovers per se, I’m more of an AU kinda guy. Though there’s definitely an ancient story I wrote back when I was like 13 that had like, every single bit of media I’d ever loved merged into one, and the excuse was that I’d just read His Dark Materials and wanted my own universe where everything I loved existed at once. COMPLETELY self-indulgent shit.

11. Have you ever had a fic stolen?

Not as far as I know…

12. Have you ever had a fic translated?

Nope! At least not that I know of.

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

Again no… I’ve not done a lot of stuff huhu!

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

It’s the one and only. The girls that live rent free in my head. The girls that deserve everything. (It’s Josephine Montilyet/my Inquisitor from Dragon Age Inquisition)

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

It’s the Dragon Age Inquisition rewrite I’ve been complaining about for the longest time. It’s become the pet project I keep poking at whenever I have the energy to. All my Tashak/Josephine fics are set within this, and honestly at this point, instead of making one large fic, I might as well just post the disjointed chapters separately even if they don’t make sense. I’ve got WIPs in the folder from 2016. It’s out of control.

16. What are your writing strengths?

I’d like to think I’m good at descriptive writing, at drawing the reader into the scene and pulling them along with the story.

17. What are your writing weaknesses?

I’m so bad at dialogue it’s not even funny. Also, my writing can tend towards too much rambling – I guess that’s just because it’s the way my brain works.

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

The only other language I’m fluent in is Malay, and I really can’t imagine myself writing in that unless in very specific circumstances.

19. First fandom you wrote for?

Dang, I think it was probably for BIONICLE. Way back when I was like, in secondary school.

20. Favorite fic you've written?

Published? Names. There’s stuff in there I still feel jealous of, even today. Unpublished – a bunch of stuff for Aforementioned Dragon Age Rewrite. I should really post stuff from there at some point LMAO…

[naranjapetrificada]

3, 4, 17 for the fic writer asks! <3

Thank you ❤️❤️❤️

If you want to play, pick your fic writing question(s) from this list!

I already answered 3 here, but as for the rest:

4. a story idea you haven’t written yet

I guess it depends on what you define "written" as? Like if written means "finished work" then there's the captive/different first meeting AU I was working on before my current WIP that should count. The preliminary work I did on that was the first time I ever thought a longfic was possible, and I want to circle back around to it eventually because I think I've got a fun twist on the captive trope in mind.

Another idea that fits the description above is a fic of a fic, the incredible In Favor With Their Stars. I've got a couple paragraphs of prose and in line with the way the original story is written, some command lines written as well. The idea for it is existentially devastating though so I'm not sure I'll ever be able to write it. I was lucky enough to get to talk to mxmollusca about it and they approved/encouraged me to keep going so idk, someday.

If you mean something I haven't done work on, well, I guess the closest thing I have to that is something I was thinking about when the season 2 teaser first dropped. It was going to be shortish piece in the vein of "let's just get it out of our system" smut where Ed spent the whole time desperately trying to capture it all in his memory, to the point where he wouldn't really be experiencing it at all. The more we learned about the season, the less viable the idea seemed so I eventually scrapped it.

17. talk about your writing and editing process

Well. Talking about the latter is going to be much more concrete than the former, so let's get that out of the way first.

As someone with not one, but two creative writing degrees, I can tell you that actual CWR classes are incredibly hit or miss. My experience was such a mixed bag, including how much better most of the teachers I had in undergrad were than in grad school. It was one of those undergrad teachers who gave me the one piece of writing advice that I've never, ever abandoned: during the revision process (emphasis on "vision"), instead of tweaking an existing document, try rewriting the new draft in a brand new doc.

Maybe it's not something everyone needs to do, but it's something I very much have to do. I do it every time, without fail, and my writing is the better for it. Once I actually start it's hardly a hardship for me, although that probably varies person to person. The quality of every aspect of my writing grew by leaps and bounds once I started doing it. It forces me to truly look at my work in a way I can never really see it otherwise.

As for the writing process itself? That's a lot fuzzier. In some ways, I'm still figuring out what that means for me now that I'm exclusively writing fic. Because my relationship with the experience of writing has fundamentally changed, I guess it makes sense that the way I do it might too.

That's doubly true now that I work from home on a schedule that's not exactly 9-5. I don't have a set time to sit down and do it, nor a daily word quota. Some days I write nothing. Some days I write 50 words. Some days I write 5000. The days I write nothing are usually days I never got around to opening whatever my working document is, because once it's open I'll usually have something to say. I'm sure if I worked more consistently I could work faster, but that would come at the expense of sustainability. In order for writing to be sustainable for me right now, it can't not reward me for it somehow. I have to be enjoying myself or I'll grow to resent it.

[desiredcaramellatte]

HI UH ITS ME AGAIN- idk if you remember me but uh hi anyway - -“

I would like to request an angst (you don’t have to write the angst) to fluff one shot with sparkling comforting his s/o After they got into a heated argument with their parents/friends. Leik he would wrap his s/o in a blanket and cuddling them and maybe watch a movie idk the fluff part is up to you! Take your time :DD

I do remember you :0 hello and welcome back!

Jsbdienjf Sparkling 👀👀

I've never actually written for him before or payed much attention to him, but those overalls are just magic to my eyes. This is kind of a modern AU I guess, because TV lol.

Uhhh I wrote this in third person because I wanted to. They/them used. I also tried to make what the argument was about and who it was with as vague as possible so it could fit a lot of situations. Very proud of this btw. I had to rewrite it because I lost my draft so yaay. I think it turned out nice.

Sparkling x reader angst + fluff

The curtains and blinds were drawn, blocking out the thick sunlight that tried to sleep through the glass. Some managed to, slipping through small cracks in the blinds and the sides of the windows, but that only added to the eerie feeling of the room.

It was nearly pitch black, the only light beside the small rays of yellow that snuck through the window was the luminescent blue glow of the television.

Sitting on the couch, face bathed in the blue reflection of the Tv, was a cookie. They were slightly curled up, shoulder leaning against a pillow that was supported by the arm rest on the side of the furniture, which kept the cookie upright.

In their arms was another pillow, a square one that looked hand-embroidered. The cookie had grabbed it subconsciously, and was now rubbing their fingers against the hems of the stitching.

The television was already loud, but that didn't drown out the memories of the cookie's recent interaction. Small fractions of it slipped through, their mind repeating yelling that was louder than the TV, and the cookie had to hold their breath for a moment to get it back under control.

Despite the loud noise coming from the television, which was the only sound aside from the gentle humming of an air conditioning, the cookie picked up the remote and turned it up a few more levels.

They hadn't even been focusing on what they were watching, maybe that was part of the problem. Maybe if they focused on the television instead of trying too hard to block out their mind, they would actually start to feel better.

But what if all the memories came rushing back at once? What if everything both parties said reverberated in their mental space once they let that guard down? What if they saw something on TV that reminded them of the fight?

They didn't know what to do at this point. They were close to tears, shuddering as they gripped onto the pillow. The pillow. Focus on that. Sparkling Cookie had hand sewn it for their birthday, thanks to the guidance of Herb and Vampire (who, surprisingly, knew how to sew quite well) and presented it to them with a smile. It was one of, if not, their favorite pillow.

They continued to think of their birthday, then they started to wonder what pillows were made of, then how they were made in factories. The cookie was pretty sure they had sat on a familiar pillow not too long ago, at a different house.

No! Don't think about it! Why did they think about it? The cookie buried their face in their hands with a small grumble, and a sigh.

Behind them, a door creaked open, and another person entered. Sparkling had noticed all the lights off outside, along with the windows covered, when he returned from the bar, and had quickly grown worried, and he entered slowly. He was afraid something bad had happened, he couldn't help but to worry.

Sparking Cookie paced over behind the couch, his eyes glued on your figure as you say there, and he contemplated how to approach you in this situation for a moment.

"What's wrong?" You heard his voice, and you jumped. You hadn't realized he had entered through your racing mind and the noise of the television.

"I'm fine." You told Sparkling once you calmed down from the spook he gave you.

"I have eyes, dearest. I can see that you are most certainly not fine." He replied as he saw their eyes, the under parts stained slightly red from either crying or constant rubbing, most likely both.

"Tell me what's wrong." He prodded, sitting down beside them and crossing his legs, resting a hand on their shoulder and giving them a small, gentle shake.

The cookie gave a small, drawn out, sigh, biding for time, trying to figure out how to phrase it aloud where they wouldn't have to hurt so much. Sparkling was patient enough, and waited for their answer.

"We... had a disagreement. It turned into a thing, and... hurtful things were said." They gave a small clear of their throat, and Sparkling gave them a sympathetic look.

"It'll be alright." He told them, rubbing their shoulder again, before he leaned over and grabbed the blanket that sat beside the couch, pulling it up and wrapping it around them.

The cookie hung on to the edges of the blanket, keeping it in place over their shoulders, and Sparkling wrapped his arms around them, gently rubbing circles into their shoulder blades.

They gave a small mumble of thanks, shuddering, and leaned into Sparkling Cookie's embrace. He gave a small smile in return. "You can tell me what it was all about later. For now, let's watch a movie, hmm?"

[tea-with-evan-and-me]

What would it take to prove that Evan was more than talking? Since he is so private, I don't think we would ever know this for most relationships. And to be sure, we will never know what he and Frances had (any more than we know what really went on with Haley or Halsey). We can only speculate. I think you make great points about them dating. For sure they did go out in public and went on some trips and maybe that equates to romantic feelings. It might come down to how different people really measure feelings, and at the end of the day, since we can't see into their private life, we don't know. What I have a hard time with is that if Evan really had feelings for her, and given how badly she wanted to be "his" in the public eye (she courted it at every turn) I just don't get why he wouldn't drop her a crumb and let them be a bit of a couple out in public. Even at the VF party, he let his handlers push her off the red carpet during photos, and there is one awkward photo of them. Being a fan of his, it just doesn't seem like the behavior of the guy I have followed and how he treats people he has feelings for. So really I am not anti-Fran. I am just hoping that the Evan I am a fan of would be nicer to someone he has true feelings for. He could have made those 2 years go much better for her by allowing a few actual nice couple photos of them rather than all the sneaky pics. Because when you are in a relationship, it is not just about what you want and need, it is about what your partner wants and needs. So yeah maybe Evan the actor needs privacy but if Fran the normie wanted to be his publicly doesn't that count too? I say if there is love it does.

you said yourself we cannot truly know what evan and frances felt, yet you take the liberty to say that frances badly wanted to be in ''his'' public eye. she never once said this, you simply inferred it from her actions, which is.. i guess that she posted about him on social media and enjoyed making his fans jealous. what on earth does it mean to drop a crumb and "let" them be a couple in public? what would that even mean? they were a couple in public. just because there wasn't paparazzi chasing them, doesn't mean they were not publicly together. he took her to an oscar party and you still find reasons to allege he was ''hiding'' her, so i am very sure that there is nothing that he could have done to satisfy your expectations of what it means for evan to publicly claim a girlfriend you didn't like. evan did not have his handlers ''push'' her off the red carpet in photos; again, you are projecting your own negative feelings. any rational person would look at the situation and see that frances is a normal, non-celebrity girlfriend who likely did feel awkward, who perhaps didn't even want to be in photos with him on the red carpet because of the backlash and multiple hate blogs she had being ran about her. i don't believe for one moment you're denying their relationship because you think his behavior wasn't "fitting" for a loving relationship and the sweetie you know evan to be. you don't know evan, you're not his friend, you never saw the way those two interacted at all. you don't know what frances ''needed'' any more than you know what evan needed. what we do know is that they were in a romantic relationship for 2 years. you honestly sound unhinged to end this ask as though you intimately know what frances needed to be happy, and that evan was somehow denying it to her because he didn't actually love her.

this is the last ask i'm entertaining about this nonsense. this isn't a difference of opinion, this is legitimately some people trying to rewrite history to suit them, and i can't hold a conversation with people who outright refuse to acknowledge reality. i don't believe this way of thinking is healthy at all. dislike frances all you want, but you can't sit here and try and erase a two year relationship over it and expect me to play into your mindset.

[wonderswritings]

When Worlds Collide: Collison Course

Summary: Five years ago, the world changed. Eight months ago, the world changed again; all with a snap of fingers. Now we’re dealing with the aftermath of those actions, and it’s hard for everyone. Especially for those they left behind. 

Warnings: No Way Home Spoilers, Angst, Mentions of Blood/Injuries, Character Death, PTSD, Possibly More to Come Pairings: TASM!Peter Parker x Fem!Stark!Reader- nicknamed Mel

In this fic, Pepper is not your mother, and Morgan is only your half sister. You are Tony’s daughter, but your mother is never mentioned.

!!!Important!!! This is a rewrite of book 1 of WWC. Titles and some plot points will carry over.

Tags ~please please read the rules before filling out the form!

AO3

When Worlds Collide Masterlist

Stupid dumblr isn't showing my stuff in the tags 🙄

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“So let me get this straight. Peter left to go and bring one of the multiverse men here, and you guys lost contact with him?”

“Yes.”

“And Dr. Assface said that I couldn’t be here for any of this, why?”

Ned shrugged, slightly nodding.

“You’re dangerous.”

“You don’t like him.”

You laughed as MJ turned towards Ned, the two going back and forth with each other.

“Guys, guys!”

They both stopped, looking over at you. You shook your head, moving so you were leaning against the table next to them.

“It’s fine. Dr. Assface has a point.”

You grinned, nodding.

“I’m both dangerous and I don’t like him.”

“Why?”

You looked down at Ned, tilting your head to the side, slightly shooting him a look.

“Why don’t you like him?”

“He’s the reason my dad is dead.”

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You tensed when the lights flickered, slowly standing up.

“What is this?”

You turned, looking over at the crypt, seeing a man in the cells, touching the barrier, Dr. Octavius waving at him. The lights flickered again, a man who looked like sand appearing in one of the other cells, hitting the barrier, causing the first newcomer to scoff.

“You picked the wrong side.”

A  lizard stepped out of the shadows, chuckling, causing your eyes to widen as you shook your head, glancing at MJ and Ned.

“I’m sorry, is that a fucking lizard?”

“Connors?”

“What? You know this creature?”

Ned gasped, nodding as he looked between you and MJ. 

“Same universes.”

You shook your head, pointing at the lizard.

“How did I miss that earlier?”

Ned shrugged as he sat back down, glancing at you.

“He was hiding.”

“And we forgot.”

You nodded, sitting back down.

“Right.”

“No, no no, not a creature. A man.”

You snorted, sharing a look with MJ and Ned.

“That is supposed to be a man?”

“Dr. Curt Connors. He was a scientist in Oscorp when I worked there. A brilliant scientist. Till he turned himself into a lizard. Then he tried to turn the whole city into lizards. It was crazy.”

Connors walked to the edge of his cell, huffing.

“It wasn’t crazy, Max. It was the next step in human evolution.”

Ned gasped, his eyes widening.

“The dinosaur can talk.”

MJ shook her head, leaning towards Ned.

“Lizard.”

“Right.”

You snorted, shrugging when MJ shot you a look.

“Sorry.”

“Speaking of which, what happened to you? Last I recall, you had bad teeth, glasses and a combover. Did you get a makeover? You know, I can give you a real makeover.”

Max shot Connors a deadpanned look, huffing.

“Let me guess. Into a lizard?”

“Exactly.”

“Could you two just shut up?”

The sandman looked over at where you all were sitting, nodding as he crossed his arms over his chest.

“Where are we?”

“It’s complicated.”

“A wizard’s dungeon.”

You chuckled at the looks MJ and Ned were receiving, Max making a face as he slightly shook his head.

“Wiz- wizards dungeon?”

You grinned when MJ shrugged, glancing at Max.

“There’s no real way to sugarcoat that. It’s literally the dungeon of a wizard.”

Dr. Octavius shrugged, nodding as Max scoffed, shaking his head.

“Look, you can keep your magic. I want a taste of that new energy I just felt.”

The flights flickered as sparks circled around Max’s hands, causing you to glare as you sat up in the chair, watching him closely. You turned when MJ’s phone went off, watching as she turned, answering it.

“Oh, Peter. Hey.”

She nodded as she walked towards the entrance of the crypt, looking around and nodding.

“Yeah. They’re all here and locked up.”

You stood up walking towards her.

“Yeah, of course. Oh hey-”

She shot you a look as you grabbed her phone, shooting her a grin.

“Hey Peter Parker. Forget something?”

“Uh Mel, heyyy. What are you doing?”

You laughed, shaking your head.

“Nice trick you did with Karen. Really, really appreciated that one.”

“Mel I-”

“Save it. We can talk about it when you get here.”

“Hey-”

You looked over at Ned, watching as he poked at a tree.

“Ask him if this is like a tree monster, or like a scientist that turned into a tree.”

You shot Ned a look, causing him to shrug as he waved his hand out in a ‘come on’ motion.

“It’s just a tree, man. Just a tree.”

You sighed, rolling your eyes.

“Just, get here when you can, alright?”

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It’d gotten relatively quiet after Peter’s call, the guys taking the time to pace in their cells while you, MJ and Ned sat around the table.

“Hey guys.”

You all sat up, watching as Peter walked in, a man following closely behind him, taking everything in as he looked around.

“This is Mr. Osborn.”

Osborn pointed at Peter, a slight grin on his face.

“Hey, it’s Doctor.”

Peter nodded slightly, coming to a stop in front of where you all were at.

“Sorry. Um, Dr. Osborn, these are my friends, Ned, MJ and YN.”

“Mary Jane?”

MJ shook her head, shooting a look at Peter who shrugged.

“It’s Michelle Jones, actually.”

“Fascinating.”

Osborn walked towards the crypt, Ned looking over at you with a grin.

“Do you think there are other Ned Leedses?”

You grinned, chuckling slightly as you shook your head, Ned sitting back down in front of his laptop.

“Octavius?”

“Osborn?”

“What- what happened to you?”

You made a face as you turned, watching Osborn and Dr. Octavius talk.

“What happened to- you’re the walking corpse.”

“What do you mean?”

“You died, Norman. Years ago.”

You sat up, tensing as Osborn shook his head, chuckling.

“You’re insane.”

Max laughed, shaking his head.

“God, I love it here.”

Peter walked towards the cells, pointing at Osborn, his head tilted to the side.

“What are you talking about? He’s standing right there. He’s not-”

“Dead.”

Sandman stepped closer to his barrier, nodding.

“They both died. Fighting Spiderman. It was all over the news. Green Goblin, impaled by the glider you flew around on. And a couple of years later, you. Doc Ock. drowned in the river with your machine.”

“That’s nonsense. Spiderman was trying to stop my fusion reactor. So I stopped him. I had him by the throat. And then, I- and then I was here.”

Max scoffed, waving his hand around, slightly shaking his head.

“Oh, please. Let me tell you something. I was whooping Spiderman’s ass. He’ll tell you. And then he caused an overload. I was stuck in the grid, absorbing data. I was about to turn into pure energy, and then- and then- oh shit. I was about to die.”

You snorted, causing Peter to turn towards you, shooting you a look. You shrugged, tilting your head to the side.

“What?”

Connors looked over at Max, huffing.

“Max, do you know? Do I die?”

You tensed when Strange’s sparks appeared, glaring as Strange appeared once the sparks disappeared. He looked over at Osborn, nodding slightly.

“Oh, great. You caught another one.”

Peter shook his head, holding his arm out.

“No no, Strange, wait.”

Strange waved his hands around as Peter stepped forward, looking over at Strange.

“Strange, he’s not dangerous.”

Osborn appeared in the empty cell, Peter turning towards him and nodding.

“It’s okay.”

He turned back towards Strange, slightly making a face.

“What is that?”

“It’s an ancient relic. The Machinati Codamus. Trap your corrupted spell inside, once you’ve finished the proper ritual, will reverse the spell. And send these guys back to their universe.”

“And then what? We perish?”

Max scoffed, shaking his head.

“Nah. No thanks, I’ll pass on that.”

“Let me out of here. Peter!”

“Strange, we can’t send them back. Not yet.”

“Why?”

“Well, some of these guys are gonna die.”

“Parker, it’s their fate.”

Peter huffed a slight chuckle, shaking his head.

“Come on Strange, have a heart.”

“Yeah, he doesn't have one of those.”

Strange looked over at you, shooting you a glare, causing you to shrug.

“You don’t.”

He clenched his jaw before he turned, looking back at Peter, shaking his head.

“In the grand calculus of the multiverse, their sacrifice means infinitely more than their lives. I’m sorry kid. If they die, they die.”

The box started to click as Strange closed his eyes, Osborn looking over at Peter, his eyes wide as Peter glanced back at you and the others.

“Peter!”

Peter clenched his jaw when he threw his arm out, webbing the box, Strange snapping his head towards him, slightly shaking his head.

“Don’t.”

Peter yanked the box towards him, lifting his other arm and shooting a web at Strange, sending him into the cell with the sandman.

“Dude, what are you doing?”

“Peter, you gotta go.”

You looked over at Peter, nodding.

“Go!”

Peter nodded as he ran past us, MJ moving to stand in front of you and Ned, blocking the path to the door, holding her hands out. You grinned as you stood, your hands lighting with your powers as you moved to stand in front of her, glancing at her over your shoulder.

“Good thinking, but my plan’s better.”

Strange balled his hands into fists as he glared, shaking his head.

“This is why I never had kids.”

He walked through the barrier of the cell, Flint trying to follow after him. You shook your head as you stepped forward, glaring at Strange.

“Now, where do you think you’re going?

Strange looked over at you, huffing.

“Stay out of this, Stark. The spell has to be reversed.”

“The spell wouldn’t need to be reversed if you hadn’t messed it up.”

“The kid was interfering!”

You shot him a look as you scoffed, tilting your head to the side.

“How the hell did you ever become Sorcerer Supreme if you can be distracted while performing a spell?”

Strange clenched his jaw, glaring at you.

“Get out of my way Stark.”

“No.”

Strange huffed, shaking his head as he threw his arm out, waving it around, sparks appearing.

“You can’t stop me, Stark. You know that.”

“That was when you had the time stone. Time after that? You attacked at my most vulnerable. Well guess what? You don’t have the time stone. So no more cheating for you.”

“Why are her hands glowing?”

“I thought he was the wizard. The hell is she?”

“Witch, basically.”

MJ nodded, sharing a look with Ned.

“Yeah, I’d say so.”

“Wizards, witches, the hell else this place got?”

You looked over at Max, grinning.

“Oh, so much.”

You threw your hand out, a ball of energy slamming into Strange, forcing him back into the cell. He huffed as he looked back over at you, muttering.

“I have a serious dislike for you.”

You shrugged, deepening your voice, mocking him.

“I have a serious dislike for you.’ Barf. Grow up Strange.”

“I will get that box, Stark.”

You shook your head, glaring at him.

“Not today you won’t.”

Strange shook his head, looking up at the ceiling before he disappeared. You dropped your hands, your powers fading as you looked back at MJ, shaking your head before you looked back at the cell. You made a face, looking between the cell and MJ.

“Did he just- I know he didn’t just go through the damn ceiling.”

“Oh, he did. Totally.”

You nodded at Max, huffing slightly.

“Okay then.”

“Mel-”

You turned, looking back at MJ.

“Peter!”

You nodded, flicking your hands out beside you.

“Right.”

You were just about to fly through the portal you’d made on the ceiling when there was a bright golden flash in front of you, MJ and Ned yelling your name as you fell down, cracking the floor as everything turned blurry before it all became dark. Ned made a face as he shook his head, looking over at MJ.

“Dude, what just happened?”

“Your wizard just whammied your witch.”

MJ glared at Max, causing him to lift his hands up in front of him as she knelt next to you, looking over at Ned.

“Help me move her.”

Ned nodded, walking towards you both.

“Yeah, right.”

They had just managed to pick you up when Peter appeared, causing Ned to jump, dropping you, MJ scrambling to catch your head before it hit the floor.

“Ned!”

He looked over at MJ, his eyes widening.

“Oh! Sorry!”

Peter made a face, gasping as he fell next to MJ, setting the box down next to him.

“What happened?”

“Your wizard whammied her.”

Peter shot a look over at Max, causing him to shrug.

“He did.”

“She was going after Dr. Strange and there was a bright flash and she was on the floor.”

MJ looked over at Peter, shaking her head.

“What happened with Dr. Strange?”

“Well, I uh-”

Peter lifted the ring he’d pocketed, holding it up between Mj and Ned.

“Stole his ring thing.”

“What?”

Peter nodded as Ned took the ring from him, looking it over.

“I was swinging through the city, and then I went though this massive mirror thing and then I was back.”

“Where is he?”

“He’s trapped, but I’m not sure for how long.”

“You could’ve just left us to die. Why didn’t you?”

MJ shook her head, looking over at Octavius.

“Because that’s not who he is.”

Peter stood up, walking towards the cells.

“I think I can help you guys. If I can fix what happened to you, then when you go back, things will be different and you might not die fighting Spiderman.”

“What do you mean, fix us?”

“Look, our technology is advanced-”

“I can help you.”

Osborn grinned as Peter looked over at him, nodding.

“You know, I’m something of a scientist myself. Octavius knows what I can do.”

Octavius scoffed, shaking his head.

“Fix? You mean like a dog? I refuse.”

“I can’t promise you guys anything, but at least this way, you actually get to go home and have a chance. A second chance. I mean, come on, isn’t that worth trying?”

“Trust me Peter, when you try to fix people, there are always consequences.”

Peter looked over at Connors, slightly shaking his head.

“I mean, you don’t have to come.”

He made a face, tilting his head to the side.

“I also didn’t know that you could talk.”

Connors shrugged, nodding slightly. 

“But if you stay here, you’re gonna have to deal with the wizard.”

“So we go along or we die. Not much of a choice, is it?”

“I just wanna go home.”

“Well, I myself don’t wanna be killed, especially by a guy dressed like dungeons and dragons, so what’s your plan?”

“I have it all under control.”

Peter turned, walking back towards MJ and Ned, whispering as he lifted the box.

“What are we gonna do about this thing?”

“Well, we need to find somewhere safe for it, right?”

“Yeah, yes, yes. You gotta take it.”

MJ shook her head, making a face.

“Wait, what?”

“If something bad happens, I’ll text you and then you just have to push this and then it’s all over, and they’ll all be gone.”

MJ looked down at you, carefully lowering your head to the floor before she stood, walking closer to Peter and Ned. 

“We’re going with you. We’re not gonna leave you.”

“You can’t come with me. It’s too dangerous. You guys have already done enough.”

“Peter, we’re in this together.”

Peter took a deep breath, nodding as he looked over at Ned.

“I know we’re in this together Ned, but I can’t do this if I know that you’re in danger, okay? So for me, MJ, please, just take this. Please.”

MJ glared slightly as she took the box, nodding.

“Fine.”

“Thank you.”

“But Peter, I swear, if I don’t hever form you, I’m pressing the button.”

“Sure, okay.”

MJ looked over at the cells, glaring as she lifted her finger.

“And I will do it!”

“Yeah, we all believe you Michelle.”

Connors shook his head, huffing.

“No way that’s his girlfriend. No way.”

Peter nodded, looking over at the cells.

“She’ll do it.”

“Absolutely she will.”

“What about the witch?”

Peter made a face, looking over at Max who pointed at where you laid.

“The witch.”

Peter shook his head, huffing slightly.

“She’s coming with us.”

“Why? What use is she to us?”

“YN is one of the smartest people in this world, and the most powerful.”

“She just got whammied by a dungeons and dragons cosplayer. I don’t think she’s all powerful.”

“She is.”

Peter turned back towards MJ and Ned, nodding.

“Go, I’ve got this.”

“See you later.”

“Be safe.”

“You too.”

Peter watched them walk out of the crypt, taking a deep breath before he turned back towards the cells.

“So uh, who’s coming with me?”

“Well, I’m in. But, if this goes sideways, I’m gonna fry you from the inside out.”

Peter nodded as he pulled his phone out, shooting off a quick text before he walked towards you, carefully picking you up.

“Let’s go.”

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“Is YN okay?”

“She will be.”

“Okay, good.”

Peter looked around as the multiverse men entered the apartment, slightly making a face as he counted heads.

“Where’s Connors?”

“He told me he wants to stay in the truck.”

“Okay.”

Peter walked into the apartment after May, careful not to hit your head as he kicked the door shut.

“Alarm systems, deactivated.”

“Hey May?”

May leaned closer to Peter, nodding.

“Yeah?”

“I feel kinda bad using Happy’s place like this.”

May scoffed, shaking her head.

“No, no, no. He’ll get over it. Consider it payback for tricking us into staying here instead of one of YN’s places.”

Peter grinned as he walked into the living room, moving towards the couch. May moved a pillow so it was laying down, holding your head steady as Peter lowered you onto the couch. 

“So this is your plan Peter? No lab, no facilities, just performing miracles in a condominium? What, you’re gonna cook up some churros, some frozen burritos in a microwave?”

Norman looked up from Dummy, nodding slightly.

“I could go for a burrito.”

Dr. Octavius scoffed, rolling his eyes.

“He’s gonna kill us all.”

“Well, let’s hope not. You’re up first, Doc.”

Peter tapped Octavius’ shoulder as he passed him, Octavius shaking his head.

“What? Hey, I told you. I don’t need fixing. Especially by a teenager using scraps from a bachelor’s junk drawer.”

“No, no, no.”

Max shook his head, walking after Peter.

“He’s got something back there. I can feel it. That weird energy.”

“What the hell is that?”

Peter looked over at Norman as he pressed the button, nodding.

“It’s a fabricator.”

The fabricator started to grow, Peter taking a step back.

“It can analyze, design, construct, basically anything.”

May tilted her head to the side, her eyes wide.

“I thought that was a tanning bed Happy broke.”

She looked over at Peter, grinning slightly.

“Wonder if YN knows he has that.”

Peter slightly made a face, cocking his head to the side, nodding.

“Well, I’d assume so.”

Max’s eyes flickered golden, muttering.

“Look at that.”

Octavius jumped when there was a crash, turning, seeing part of the machine through the wall, muttering.

“He’s gonna kill us all.”

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“Look at this place. And all the possibilities.”

“What? This condo?”

Max nodded, turning towards Flint.

“Yeah. Yeah, the condo. I love the whole overfloor plan.”

Max scoffed, shaking his head.

“No! No, man. I’m talking about the world. I kinda like who I am here. And all that power back there? I could be so much more. So why did you come here?”

“I have a daughter. And I wanna see her. But he’s not gonna send anyone home till he’s finished his little science project back there.”

“You trust him?”

Flint crossed his arms over his chest, shaking his head.

“I don’t trust anyone. How’d you end up like that anyway?”

“The place I worked at, they were experimenting with electricity created by living organisms, and then I fell into a vat of electric eels.”

“You’re kidding. I fell into a supercollider.”

“Damn. Gotta be careful where you fall.”

“I got it!”

Peter slid to a stop, looking at May.

“I did it. Will you send him up?”

“Yup. Here we go.”

Peter ran up the stairs as May pressed the button on the tablet, lifting Octavius up into the air with the tentacles.

“Hold on, Doc.”

“All of these humiliations never cease.”

Peter grabbed Octavius’ head, pushing his head down so he could access his neck.

“You! Keep your science fair project away from me!”

“Hey, it will work. Have faith.”

“Says the reckless fool who turned himself into a monster.”

“Please stop. Hold still.”

“Don’t you dare. I swear, when I get out of this wicker, I’m gonna-”

He stopped talking, his head falling forward as the tentacles powered down.

“Doc? Doc? Doctor Octavius?”

He gasped, jerking too.

“It’s so quiet. Those voices, inside my head. I’d almost forgotten.”

“Otto.”

“Yes. Norman.”

Octavius was lowered to the ground, smiling.

“It’s me.”

Peter jumped down, landing in front of Dr. Octavius, smiling as Flint slightly nodded.

“Would you look at that.”

Peter returned acces of the tentacles to Octavius, one of the arms moving towards Peter’s chest, returning the nanos.

“I’m grateful, dear boy. Truly.”

“Yeah. You’re welcome.”

“How can I help?”

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Peter jerked, tensing as he set the tools he was using down, making a face as he stood, Octavius and Norman turning, looking over at him.

“Peter?”

“What’s wrong?”

“I don’t know.”

Peter walked out of the room, Octavius and Norman following behind him.

“May?”

May walked down the stairs, looking over at Peter.

“What is it Peter?”

“What’s happening?”

Peter came to a stop, looking around the room. Max glared, huffing as Norman walked out from behind Octavius towards the window.

“Why are you looking at me like that?”

Peter closed his eyes, taking a deep breath before he threw his arm out, webbing Norman’s hand with the bomb, Norman smikring as he turned.

“That’s some neat trick. That sense of yours.”

“Norman?”

“Norman’s on sabbatical honey.”

Max made a face, stepping back.

“The hell?”

“Goblin.”

“No more darker half?”

May slowly backed into the other room, grabbing the remaining cures, stuffing them into a bag.

“Did you really think that I’d let that happen? That I’d let you take away my power just because you’re blind to what true power can bring you?”

“You don’t know me.”

“Don’t I? I saw how she trapped you. Fighting her holy moral mission. We don’t need you to save us. We don’t need to be fixed. These are not curses. They’re gifts.”

“Norman, no.”

“Quiet lap dog.”

“You don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“I watched you from deep behind Norman’s cowardly eyes. Struggling to have everything you want, while the world tries to make you choose. Gods don’t have to choose. We take.”

“May, run!”

May ran past Octavius and Peter, running to the door as Max yanked his cure off his chest, Norman breaking free from the webbing holding him. Max lifted his hand, electricity surging around his hand as he pulled the arc reactor from the fabricator, Peter leaning back before it could hit him. Norman punched Peter, causing him to hit the bottom of the staircase while Flint left.

“Oh my god. What have you done?”

Max looked down at the reactor, his electricity changing colors as the lights flickered. He turned towards Octavius, glaring at him.

“I liked you better before.”

He lifted his arm, hitting Octavius with a surge of power, pushing him through the window. Max walked towards the window, his powers surging as Flint created a sand storm, falling into the mix before he zapped away, Flint flying in the opposite direction.

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Your head felt stuffy as you slowly came to, blinking as you looked up at the ceiling. 

“What the hell?”

You groaned as you sat up, everything spinning for a few seconds. You looked around, slightly making a face. 

“What the hell am I doing in Happy’s apartment?”

You looked down when you saw a golden flicker, seeing sparks dancing between your fingers for a few seconds before it disappeared.

“What the hell?”

You shook your head as you looked around the apartment, getting a better look at the place, your eyes widening.

“Oh my god.”

You stood up, staggering for a second before you gained your footing, stepping over the debris, yelling.

“May! Peter!”

You checked the entire apartment for any sign of them, running out of the apartment, gasping.

“Oh god.”

The hall was just as worse as the inside, if not more. You walked further down the hall, stopping at the hole that stretched halfway to the end of the hall, looking down. The hole went down aat least two floors, causing you to wince as you looked for the door to the stairs, rolling your eyes. Of course the stairs had to be at the other end of the hall. You turned when you heard sirens, running to the window, looking down. News vans and cops littered the ground, your eyes widening.

“Shit.”

You turned, slightly shaking your head as you took a deep breath, running forward. You were about to jump when something slammed into you, causing you to groan as you landed on your back. You looked up, tensing.

“Lizard man.”

Hee smirked, his tongue slithering out as he tilted his head to the side.

“Connors.”

You nodded, taking a deep breath.

“Right, Connors. Apologies.”

He nodded, grinning.

“Now, where do you think you're going?”

You glanced around, trying to find a way out from under him.

“Anywhere but here.”

He nodded, leaning closer down to you.

“Peter, he needs your help. Too bad you can’t offer him that.”

You clenched your jaw, glaring up at him.

“Peter’s only trying to do the right thing. He’s trying to help you. All of you.”

“We’re not broken toys that need to be fixed.”

You scoffed, shaking your head.

“You sure about that? Because you're a lizard when you should be a man.”

He huffed, glaring down at you.

“You’ll learn, just like Peter’ll learn.”

You growled, shaking your head as you lifted your leg, kicking him. His shock caused him to lean up, giving you enough space to crawl back away from him, turning and jumping to your feet, running towards the door that led to the stairwell.

“Not so fast.”

You gasped when something wrapped around your ankle, yanking you back. Your face slammed into the floor, your teeth grinding together as you were dragged down the hall. Connors picked you up by the back of your shirt, slamming you into the wall, the wall cracking around you as you groaned, something wet dripping from your hairline.

“You’re not going to be of much help.”

You flicked your hand out, gasping when he lifted you, tossing you down the hall. You stopped at the edge of the hole, your chest heaving as you looked down and then back at Connors. You tried using your powers again, making a face when nothing happened.

“Seriously?”

You looked back at Connors, watching as he started to make his way towards you. You tried again, huffing when you didn’t feel the familiar pull of your powers.

“Fucking Strange.”

Connors started to move faster, and you looked down at the hole, making a decision. With a gasp you fell backwards, falling into the hole just as Connors made a swipe at you. You groaned when you landed, shakingly getting onto your knees. Your head hurt, just like the rest of you did, but you pushed it to the side when you heard a crash, your eyes widening.

“Peter.”

You shakingly stood, wincing before you ran towards the end of the hall, pulling the door open. You glanced at the floor number, huffing.

“Of course it had to be at the top.”

You started to run down the stairs, tensing when you heard a crash, seeing Connors running after you.

“Seriously?”

You peeked over the railing, huffing slightly.

“Screw this.”

You jumped over the railing, falling a few floors before you reached out, grabbing onto the railing, slamming into the side, huffing. You groaned as you pulled yourself over the railing, falling onto the steps. You reached up, touching at the sore spot on your hand, your fingertips coated in your blood. You huffed, shaking your head.

“Fucking Strange.”

Not only did he take your powers, but he took your healing ability too? Low blow. Sparing a glance above you, you saw Connors still coming after you.

“Seriously? Asshole.”

You started running again, a slight limp to your step when you heard a crash, metal pieces falling next to you, causing you to move to the side when there was a growl. You looked up, jumping when you saw Connors grinning at you.

“I told you, you would learn.”

You went to jump over the railing again when his tail wrapped around your middle, swinging you back before he let you go, causing you to fly through the wall, groaning as you landed on a table, the table breaking under you. Pushing yourself up, you looked down at your arm, seeing the trail of blood.

“Fuck.”

Connors came rushing into the room, flicking his tail to the side as he looked down at you.

“Peter said you were the smartest person in the world. The most powerful. But you’re not. You’re weak.”

You looked around, reaching towards the vase, throwing it at Connor’s head, jumping up and running. He huffed a laugh as you ran out of the apartment, running down the hall.

“Where do you think you’re going?”

Connors grabbed you, slamming you into the wall, your chest heaving as you looked up at him, his hand wrapped around your throat, squeezing.

“Yo- you want to stay a lizard, I suggest you get out of here. This place is surrounded by cops. If they find you, I can promise you they will do whatever it takes to turn you back, humane or not.”

He growled, glancing out the window, looking at the flashing lights.

“I’m serious. They were willing to drug me just to get to Peter. What do you think they’ll do to you when they find out you’re not even from this universe? They’ll lock you up. Experiment on you. You’d get to learn what it’s like to be the experiment instead of the experimenter.”

He growled, his grip on your neck tightening for a second before he was letting you go, glaring as you dropped to the floor, heaving. You rubbed your neck, looking up at him.

“You should go. Now.”

He ran towards the end of the hall, jumping out of the window. You shook your head as you pulled yourself up, using the wall for support.

“Asshole.”

You ran back to the stairwell, checking the floor number, breathing a sigh of relief when you saw there were only two floors left.  Using the railing for support you ran down the last set of stairs, running out of the stairwell, your eyes widening. Peter was on the floor, Norman holding him up by his head as May faced them, holding a pipe in her hand. You ran towards them, screaming her name when you saw the glider appear behind her, slamming into her.

“May!”

“Peter, Peter, Peter.”

You ran to May, dropping to your knees beside her.

“May, May, hey, come on, wake up.”

She groaned, her eyes fluttering as she looked over at you.

“YN? You’re awake, that’s good.”

You huffed a laugh, nodding.

“Yeah, I’m gonna kick Strange’s ass when I see him again.”

She looked you over, slightly shaking her head as she reached up, running her fingers down the side of your face.

“You’re hurt.”

“No good deed goes unpunished.”

You shook your head, offering her a small smile.

“I’m fine.”

She nodded slightly, looking around.

“Whe- where’s Peter?”

She tried to sit up, causing you to shake your head as you stopped her, gently laying her back down.

“No, no, no. Don’t move.”

“Peter. You can thank me later.”

“He’s right over-”

You turned, looking over your shoulder.

“He’s right over-”

Your eyes widened when you saw Peter and Norman, gasping when Norman threw a bomb towards you.

“No!”

Peter jumped, his fingers skimming the bomb. You turned, throwing yourself over May, covering her body with yours as the bomb went off.

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Aristotle’s adventures

rewrite

Chapter 8: a strange and new world 

Aristotle pov

We have been walking for weeks possibly a months looking for somewhere to go killing anyone in our way I have been looking out for any cabins nearby to stay to rest up form walking and looking out for anyone trying to attack and I feel like someone is watching us waiting for us to stop so they can attack us I feel like someone has been following us the entire time we have been moving

Dyo: Aristotle?

Aristotle: yes dad?

Dyo: is everything ok? Your being really quiet 

Aristotle: yes everything is fine

Dyo: ok i’m just not used to you being this quiet 

Aristotle: yea I understand that

A few weeks later they end up in California 

Lavender: are we staying here?

Florence: hopefully we will stay here we just need to find a house 

Aristotle: Are me and Lavender going to an actual school?

Dyo: yes you will

Lavender: yay!

Aristotle: where are we going to live?

Florence: somewhere far away from humans 

Lavender: why?

Florence: so they won’t hurt us

Lavender: oh ok

A few weeks later they find a abandoned Victorian castle and decide to stay there 

Aristotle: so we’re staying here?

Florence:* putting the cups in the cupboard* yes and me and your father are going to look for school nearby for you and Lavender 

Aristotle: ok where should I put all the blankets and stuff? 

Florence: put yours and lavenders blankets in the room you want I think there should be beds already in the bedrooms we will have to go furniture shopping next week or so 

Aristotle: ok can I explore around a little bit after we’re done unpacking? 

Florence: yes you know what to do since you’re going out on your own

Aristotle: yes I know mom

Dyo: why don’t we get some rest before we start unpacking? 

Florence: good idea, but we gotta get unpacking as soon as possible so I guess will start tomorrow 

Aristotle: ok

The next day

Lavender:* carrying a box full of plates and bowls* should I put the stuff away to leave it up to you and mom? 

Dyo:* placing down chairs around the dining table* leave it up to your mother those are all porcelain plates and bowls 

Lavender:* put the box down on the counter* ok 

Aristotle: ok I got all my stuff unpacked what should I do next?

Florence: why don’t you and your sister go out and look for something to eat

Aristotle: ok come on lavender

Lavender: coming!

Aristotle and lavender leave the house and try to find there way to the city

Aristotle: so let’s get stuff for spaghetti 

Lavender: ok

Aristotle: and don’t run off without telling me

Lavender: I know Aristotle

Aristotle and lavender make it to the store

Aristotle: let’s hope nobody questions our masks

Lavender: will this be a quick trip?

Aristotle: hopefully 

Aristotle and lavender get the stuff they needed for spaghetti and start walking home

Lavender: so mom and dad said that we are going to a actual school and not be homeschooled?

Aristotle: yes we are mom said she is looking for a school for us to go to

Lavender: really?!

Aristotle: yes it might take a few weeks though

Lavender: ok

A few weeks later 

Florence: so tomorrow is your first day of your new school

Aristotle: I know I’m getting everything ready

Florence: good

The next day Aristotle arrives at their new school

Teacher: alright class we have a new student here with us say hello to Aristotle polonoi

Aristotle: greetings everybody I am happy to be here

Teacher: all right, Aristotle, you go sit next to Jackson karlsson(that’s not Jackson’s actual last name Larry and Lanky had to use a fake last name to get Jackson and Max to school) 

Aristotle: who is that?

Teacher:* points at Jackson* over there

Aristotle:* walks over to Jackson and sits down* hi

Jackson: hi I assume you are the new kid

Aristotle: yea I’m Aristotle I assume your Jackson

Jackson: that’s right

A few weeks later

Dyo: did you make any friends at school?

Aristotle: I met a guy named Jackson I wouldn’t say we’re friends more of acquaintances 

Dyo: that’s good 

A few months later Aristotle meet Zachary, Charlie, Jackson and they all become really really close friends

Jackson: so your telling us that you moved about 11 times?!

Aristotle: yes and I’m counting the times I moved houses I have a bunch of stores of the places I moved to 

Zachary: can you tell us all the stores you have? 

Aristotle: sure but strap down because we may be here for a while 

End of chapter

sorry for this chapter taking so long I’ve been busy with school and stuff

[tubendo]

Oneshot Preview: "Blood of the South"

This is a preview to a oneshot that I've had in the works, and as you will see, it's a rewrite of the first two episodes of ATLA. I am thoroughly abusing the writers' decision to make all the bender MCs prodigies or just really powerful, because when you actually take that fact to a natural conclusion, you can end up with some fun stuff by changing a few historical events. So, one of our MCs is very different, all due to one rational decision by a side-character thirty-ish years before the events of the show. You can probably guess what that decision was once you've read through.

The water was calm, and his spear was steady; Sokka wouldn't say he was the best fisherman in his tribe, but nobody else was quite like him. And it wasn't because of his skills, looks or intelligence, though he didn't think he was lacking in any of those areas, it was because nobody else he knew had a waterbender for a sister. They were rare enough already in the Southern Water Tribe, and though he would admit that Katara scared him at times with her tricks, he knew she was great at snagging fish with him. It turned out that catching fish was quite easy when one of the fishers could just levitate their prey out of the water before the other impaled it with a spear.

She wasn't as happy as he was to be fishing, though Sokka admittedly just wanted to be out of the village for a bit; having the responsibility of training the younger kids how to fight was a big one, given how annoying they could be at times, with their incessant need for toilet hreaks, snow-ball fights and just messing around, instead of actually learning how to use a spear, or spar with each other. He wanted to just scream at them at times, but he restrained himself.

Though he didn't enjoy it, he didn't want his one responsibility to be thrown out and given to his sister, who'd probably do a better job of disciplining them. He'd never admit that outloud, but he knew she had her own set of skills, and there was no denying that she'd be a great help for the warriors, if they'd let her join the fight, instead of remaining back in their village.

"One's coming." he told her, and Katara, who had been sitting across from him, glanced over, and eyed the small fish that was wiggling around in the water nearby.

"I could grab it right now, you realise that, right?" she asked him, clearly annoyed that she had to go along with his idea.

"I don't want you getting all the credit. Let me have my fish-stabbing fun, Katara." he requested of her, though he was just joking; he knew she didn't really care that much, and plus, if it required more focus on their behalf, it made the fishing trip less boring.

"Fun?" she raised a hrow, "Yeah, okay, we'll call it that." she mumbled, and the Water Tribe boy narrowed his eyes.

"Okay, you can be better at fishing than me... but sarcasm? No, no, that's a line you can't cross."

His sister just snickered at his comment, before her expression straightened, "Let's get back to it." she reminded him of what they were doing, before raising her hands up, "Three... two... one." she counted down, before flicking her wrist up, causing the fish to fly up into the air beside them; Sokka stabbed the fish with little effort, and he slid it off the end of the spear into the bag of fish that sat between them.

"That's twelve." he noted, and spun his spear around, wondering how many more they could snag before they had to head back to their village, "How about we aim for thirty?"

"That'll take a while... but we have nothing better to do." she conceded, before she pushed her hands out, moving their canoe a little further along; Sokka moved a hand to the paddle, and helped steer the canoe along, moving them out of the way of the chunks of ice that floated around them.

He glanced around, and noticed that they'd just passed a fish, "Katara, behind us." he pointed, and she raised a chin, noticing the fish as he pushed with the paddle, rotating their canoe so they could turn back towards the fish, "Alright, I think that's right." he mumbled to himself, watching as his sister motioned her hands around.

At first, she was slow, and the water didn't move much, but suddenly, a ball of water spurted out, with the fish inside; she turned around and put on one of the smuggest looks he'd seen all day from her, "And you said you didn't like fishing with me." she reminded him of what he'd said before they left the village.

"Yeah, because you make it too easy. I enjoy a good challenge." he retorted, watching as she slowly moved the ball of water closer, before Sokka could lunge his spear inside, stabbing the fish as the liquid fell back down into the sea below.

He put the fish back in the bag, and noticed that their canoe was still rotating from his earlier push, and he recorrected their course with a few more pushes of the paddle, heading back in the same direction they had been before. Suddenly, before Katara could push their canoe along once more, the small boat shook violently, and his eyes darted ahead, realising they had fallen into a current. No matter how strong his sister's abilities were, he knew it would be just as dangerous to try and push against the current.

"Well this is something new." she narrowed her eyes, readying her hands as she turned around, eyeing the chunks of ice that were in their path.

"Knock 'em away!" he ordered her, and though she mightn't have liked being bossed around, she complied, flinging her hands out to flick the ice out of their path while Sokka kept paddling, making sure they were sticking in the current, instead of spinning out of control; being a waterbender didn't make Katara immune to motion sickness- he didn't think anyone was.

As they made their way through the current, Sokka came to realise they were approaching a pair of icebergs, which were moving towards each other, into the current, and he pointed up, "Katara! Stop the icebergs!" he demanded, and her eyes widened as she realised what he was referring to.

His sister flung her arms up, suddenly forcing the icebergs to slow; they didn't halt, forcing Sokka to continue paddling as fast as he could to hasten their movement. Katara grit her teeth, before closing her arms in, letting the icebergs converge.

"What are you-" he almost screamed, before she thrust both fists out towards the icebergs, making contact; in a split second, the two masses cracked and shattered apart, causing a wave of water to spurt up from underneath them; he preemptively grabbed onto the bag of fish, not wanting to lose all their hard work as the canoe careened about, the rocky waves not calming with Katara's hand motions.

Once the water had calmed down a little, he let out a sigh of relief, but realised they were still being pulled by the current, "Okay... now would be a good time to get us out of the current." he asked her as politely as he could, realising he might have gotten just a little too agitated with her.

"Out?" she scoffed, "We don't need to go out." she retorted, before flicking her hands forward, ripping apart the ice floes that sat ahead of them, allowing them to continue past the end of the violent current, slowly flowing towards another iceberg.

"Uh... thanks." he sheepishly smiled at her, and Katara just aloofly shrugged her shoulders, not seeming to care for his opinion.

"This is why I need to do this alone. You just freak out when stuff like this happens." she commented on his behaviour, and the Water Tribe warrior crossed his arms.

"Aw, come on. I'm just trying to take the danger seriously. Were you not scared by two icebergs nearly crushing us?"

"Icebergs don't scare me, Sokka." she retorted, before she rose up to her feet, "I'll show you."

You can probably guess who taught her those tricks, and subsequently, how screwed the Fire Nation is gonna be.