#he is simultaneously trying to keep them both alive

[itischeese]

I have an announcement to make

Obito's type is just self-sacrificial idiot geniuses.

That is all.

[fanfic-obsessed]

Duty

Here I try a hand at Emperor Obi Wan. It just feels right. 

It starts after Order 66, after the march on the temple. When Obi Wan says that he cannot go after Anakin, Yoda believes him. Instead of Yoda going for Sidious and Obi Wan for Anakin, they reverse it.  Yoda heads for Mustafar. 

Obi Wan goes for Sidious.He’s so done, traumatized and tired. He is also somewhere between passively suicidal and actively suicidal.  He attacks Sidious in front of the newly formed Imperial Senate and no one is more surprised than him when he takes Sidious’s head off cleanly (Sidious did not consider this one tired, hurting Jedi to be a threat and Obi Wan went in full throttle, hoping to do some damage before his death). Even though the Empire is only a few days old at this point, there are some old rules that are already in place, backed by the Force (which is why no one really questions what happens next). One of those rules is the right of conquest. 

To the winner goes the Empire. 

Now Obi Wan is the recognized Emperor, including to the chips in the Clones.   Obi Wan does not want to be the Emperor. Obi Wan wants to go sit in a depression cave and contemplate his infinite sadness in peace, please. 

Bail Organa manages to convince Obi Wan that being the Emperor and helping to unfuck everything is his duty (Bail is both semi reluctant-he knows that duty is Obi Wan’s buzzword and hates that he needs to take advantage of that-, and not, as he is pretty sure that is all that is keeping Obi Wan alive right now). 

So Obi Wan agrees to be Emperor until they can figure out how to undo the Sith’s great plan (while all 1000 years was not spent creating a web of fucked up laws that slowly built the trap they all fell into, a good portion of that time was).  He manages to rescind the Order that the Jedi are traitors, but is not able to deactivate the chips (this is another where the chips turn the clones into Automatons, with no independent thoughts). There is some code phrase that will shut the chips off, but only Palpatine knew it. The Kaminoans are sure that, now that the chips are active, removing the chips will cause brain damage and death to the clones (this is not true, but we are still several months away from Ahsoka and Rex-as the only two who have proof this is patently false- coming back into Obi Wan’s life).  Obi Wan has recalled the 212th, unable to stop himself from wanting them around him, even as they are. Yoda successfully captured Anakin, who is currently being held in a medically induced coma until they figure out what to do with him (he is decidedly fallen, but also is coming off as being in middle of a clinically psychotic episode-also both Yoda and Obi Wan are not so secretly hoping there is something that makes his actions…not Anakin of his own free will slaughtering children). Now Yoda is off in the galaxy trying to find Jedi survivors. Mace Windu was found and is Bacta and would be there for a minimum of a year. 

Padme is on bedrest for her own safety, and the safety of her children. She is also subject to frequent lectures on seeing an actual medical professional while pregnant. It turns out that she had an uncommon, but not rare, condition that meant that a natural birth would kill her. This condition can only be diagnosed in the third trimester (also notably that this condition could not be fixed with the Force, Light or Dark). Obi Wan cannot bring himself to visit her, if asked he would have the excuse of ‘too busy’ ready to go but the truth was he couldn’t face Padme, whom he had considered a friend, after she had spent so much time lying to him about her relationship with Anakin (Also he now has access to all the instances that Palpatine knew about where both of his dear friends abused their power for the sake of the other).  Even after the children are born, Obi Wan keeps his distance. 

So we have Obi Wan, holding himself by a thread as he simultaneously tries to: figure out how to undo hundreds of years of damage against democracy, run an empire (if he has to do this, he will do it right), deactivate the chips (this means going through every single Palpatine has ever recorded in hopes of discovering the code- no matter how horrific), figure out a place that the remaining Jedi can live (the temple is out of the question with the death that clings to the walls like a slime).  There is no one he can truly trust, not even Bail (For all that Bail entreaty to remain emperor was 100% necessary, it did damage Obi Wan and his friendship in a way that it would take a decade to recover).

It will eventually get better. Other Jedi will come from hiding, giving Obi Wan people he can fully rely on. But right now, about a year into the Empire, Obi Wan is running on the barest fumes, heart sick. He is surrounded by the Senate, whom he does not trust, and the puppeted bodies of the clones, whom he forces himself to treat just the same, to never forget that these are people. He has had to order the clones to ignore any order that contradicts his (in order to prevent abuse by senators) and make an explicit order for the clones to defend themselves and to see to their own needs. He is facing the prospect that there may be no way to undo this damage.  

However there is something that no one knows about the chips. Like in cannon, they do eventually break down, as the clones are forced to go against their own morals and fight the chip, it wears it down.  The irony is that Obi Wan treating them as sentients causes less wear than Palptine’s treatment. 

The 212 love their general, none more so than Cody.  As part of that, each one made a point to memorize the signs that Obi Wan was overworking himself.  Now Obi Wan is, to the clones trapped by the chips, overworking himself beyond anything they had seen. The chips do not allow for this kind of care, which starts to cause the same kind of wear that cannon saw. While most of the clones do not fight the chips with Obi Wan in charge, the 212th begins to fight even harder. 

Their general needs them. 

It starts around the 1 year mark, and is so small that Obi Wan thinks he is imagining it.  It starts with Cody frowning faintly at a senator bringing another unnecessary problem to the Emperor to solve (something that they should have been able to solve themselves).  Then Obi Wan realizes his cup of tea keeps getting refilled (Boil does it when Obi Wan isn’t looking-it both is and is not a breakthrough, the chip means that if Obi Wan had asked for the tea Boil would have provided it, but it is Boil himself that is able to anticipate the need and choose Obi Wan’s favorite tea). Several of his guards (all members of the 212th) subtly herd him down lesser known hallways and paths to his destination, causing him to avoid other senators trying, badly, to curry favor. All the while not able to say anything but “Yes, Sir” or answer direct questions with the least amount of words in a monotone.

Something shatters, just a little, in Obi Wan’s heart at those responses. He continues to talk to any of the clones,including promises that he will find a way to fix this, but does not ask as many questions. 

The first substantial sign that the chips were wearing out on their own came from Cody. It was late, Obi Wan had not slept in days, had not eaten in even longer. Cody's voice was raspy, and his words were slow, deliberate (if you have ever spoken to someone with mild aphasia, think of that with long pauses between words). He looked right at Obi Wan and said “You…have…not…eaten.”

Obi Wan found himself whipping around so fast he nearly tripped on the pretentious robes he had been forced into to stare at Cody, whose face was twisted into this incredibly focused look. 

“Cody?” Obi Wan asks, breathless. 

“You…need…to…eat” 

Obi Wan takes another step closer, almost close enough to touch “Cody?”

Cody’s jaw tightens,  “We…are..still…here…we…we…we...can…hear…you.”

Then all at once Cody’s face smoothed out again, responding to Obi Wan with a monotonous ‘yes sir’, back under the chips' control.  

It is both better and worse for Obi Wan. He now knows for sure that the clones are in there, but he still does not know how to free them.  His mindset and self care is bad enough that he actually cannot make the connection between what seems to bring members of the 212th forward in spite of the chips (and Cody is only the first, the spark is usually Obi Wan taking particularly bad care of himself, and that definition is variable for each clone-Helix the head medic is almost himself more than he is controlled within a few weeks).

It is a few weeks after this that Rex and Ahsoka finally arrive. They had been found by Yoda, who convinced them that it was safe to return to Coruscant.  Part of the reason they had not believed it before hand was that it was clear that the Clone were still controlled by the chips. 

They are the ones to break the news to Obi Wan that the Kaminoans were wrong (and it was they were wrong, not they were lying, they truly did believe that the chips could not be removed after they had been activated), the chips could be removed. 

Obi Wan takes that news in, asks a few questions on what is needed to remove the chips, then makes arrangements for the medics to have their chips removed (with the idea that they can then supervise the surgery of everyone else-Obi Wan currently has trust issues and cannot think of letting anyone who is not a clone operate on the 212th, in particular). At that point he sits on the floor of the room they were in and has a small breakdown (Disturbing both Rex and Ahsoka, and bringing his current guard, Wooley, to the point of breaking the chip entirely). 

There is still so much to do. Obi Wan still knows that. He still has a duty to keep the Empire together and undo enough damage that it can become a republic again.  He still has to live with the horrific things that Palpatine had recorded (experiments, thoughts, his plans for Anakin) and figure out what to do with Anakin (who is still being held in a medically induced coma). The knife’s edge of the politics he has been balancing on has not grown any easier (in fact Ahsoka and Rex, having internalized Anakin's beliefs more than they realized are going to make it more difficult not less). 

But Obi Wan has hope, hearing that the clones would soon be free. Through he does not make any kind of suggestion or let himself have an opinion on who goes when for choir removing (save that all of the medics needed to go first so they could sort out who was going next), the medics in charge prioritize the 212th, because Obi Wan desperately needs his battalion back. Also because no one is completely sure that they won’t all give themselves brain damage fighting against the chip. 

There are enough medics that Ghost Company is dechipped at the same time, with minimal recovery.  Boil and Wooley immediately take charge, while the others lock Cody and Obi Wan into Obi Wan’s ‘temporary’ apartment (What had been Palpatine’s living space- the senate insisted) opening the door only for to provide food while Obi Wan is made to take an enforced ‘vacation’ or at least a ten day (They accept no criticisms, or questions from the Senate. The first senator to protest was shot with a stunner and told to be glad for it-the others decide that they will accept Wooley and Boil as a substitute Emperor).

Cody cuddling Obi Wan produces the first true sleep he had since Utapau.  Obi Wan sleeps for a full 24 hours.

[thosewildcharms]

towl 1x03 thoughts

rick is REALLY going through it trying to keep michonne alive by out maneuvering jadis AND thorne AND michonne herself because she fails horrendously at acting like she's not the most impressive person in the world AND trying not to have an aneurysm about all of that at the same time

speaking of rick you can't tell her to lie low and then eyefuck her in public every time you see her you are equally bad at this

equally you should probably stop kissing her every chance you get if you want her to believe you want her to leave lol

by contrast michonne screaming at him with her eyes while simultaneously giving him the silent treatment because she's actually too pissed off to yell at him? danai the actress you are!!!!!!!

also!!! the fact that rick thinks he can say "if you love me, you'll go" would actually make her leave is crazy. he has no idea how much that woman loves him! that's why she just smiled angrily at him because ACTUALLY. the reality is that she loves him way TOO much to ever leave him behind. that's WHY she's even here, in fact!!! he's not used to people fighting for him like this :(

michonne ripping that helmet off his head so hard i thought his head might come off with it had me cackling but also rick is stronger than me because I'd be on my knees

"you're a hero. with a shit haircut" I screamed he hates jadis so much it's so funny fdjaslkf

speaking of which I wonder if the freaks who think there is genuine sexual tension between rick and jadis caught his look of absolute disgust as he physically recoiled from her when she sexually harassed him for the 100th time. girl he's not gonna fuck you

CARL MENTION HELP

"He told me he'd find you. He found you." "Now I'm looking for him." MAYBE STOP MAKING ME CRY PERHAPS

one thing about rick and michonne they WILL find a minute to make out for a bit. and because andy and danai are EPs now they will do it with tongue while extremely well-lit! it's like they heard the complaints from the mothership and addressed them by kissing at least once per episode in broad daylight they love us

rich and michonne effortlessly fighting side by side and getting shit done after almost a decade apart because they are ACTUAL soulmates

the parallel between pearl aiming her gun at michonne and shane aiming his gun at rick in season 2 because they both feel threatened!!! big difference of course being that rick is there to literally put himself in the crosshairs to protect her

michonne staring rick down in a a turbulent helicopter and then abruptly yeeting them both into a raging storm because she is fed up with his shit is the funniest, most unhinged thing I've ever seen I love her so much

this show is fucking insane I love it. I'm still wary of how it will all end but I'm enjoying the hell out of it until we get there

[sstar-nerd]

Ok, I have risen from the dead because these two are hilarious to me in their entire concept.

So everyone is talking about the Vox and Alastor rivalry especially with the season finale with Vox’s commentary and the torn photo. Like, those two fucking HATE each other so comically. Everyone says it’s more on Vox’s side but I disagree cause on the very first episode Alastor HATES having to deal with video and being recorded. Maybe we didn’t pick up on it before but he’s very subtly INSULTING Vox that whole time.

But, could anyone discuss how funny it would be if they were still friends THIS ENTIRE TIME. Has anyone had those two friends who throw insults and fight with each other 24/7 but they’re actually super close? Like BFF levels of close? Just me?

Think about it: Alastor’s radio broadcasting things were still there after 7 years. You can’t tell me Vox wouldn’t have brought those down at some point even if someone else used them? Or just built some as his own version to display some sort of power grab? Like c’mon even if they were there for an important reason Vox would have found a way to take them over.

It would just be so funny for both sides to hear only insults about the other- constant slander and threats almost daily. Vox will not shut up about how much of a has-been Alistor is and about how he was gone for 7 years just RAGING. And the other half Alastor refuses to allow TVs into the hotel, constantly insults videos or any V products, and keeps making sly insults about Vox ANYTIME a video or TV is even referenced near him.

So it comes a time for the two groups to team up for one reason or another and they’re both dreading it. Val doesn’t want to deal with a grouchy and pissed Vox the entire partnership and Velvette knows she won’t get a moments peace. Charlie is coming up with plans on how to get the two to get along while Vaggie is simultaneously strategizing how to keep them away from each other. Everyone else in the hotel is all tensed and worried.

Than comes the meeting. They’re staring each other down for a good couple moments as the others around them make awkward small talk and then:

Vox: NO CALL!!!

Al: I don’t use-

Vox: NO LETTER!!!

Al: I WAS BUSY!

Vox: Doing what? Being old?

Al: Regaining my sanity after our last brunch.

Vox: Oh I make ONE bland dish and you-

And then the two are arguing for HOURS. There’s not a soul in that room who has the bravado to get in between them or butt in. They’re all either terrified or seriously confused. Eventually the argument boils down to something akin to an actual conversation like two friends catching up.

Someone, I think Charlie, asks them about their rivalry and if they can work together now. Vox and Al share a confused look before they realize: they had never told anyone the status of their relationship. Vox is doubled over laughing while Alastor has his face in his hands trying not to do the same thing. Everyone is concerned.

When they’re done they have to tell the two groups how they knew each other for forever since their respective falls and had even heard about each other when they were alive. They became extremely close friends shortly after meeting and only became ‘rivals’ when they thought they were both becoming to arrogant and unchallenged.

Their friends are all horrified and confused.

Vox and Al think it’s hilarious.

[gh0st-author]

This love is alive, back from the dead

pairing: William James Moriarty x reader/oc

tags: hurt/comfort, angst but with a happy ending, usual soft William things

warnings: mentions of death (i mean Liam did try to delete himself from existence), mentions of grief and dealing with loss

A/N: im rereading the manga again and i had a LOT of feelings about the 3 year time skip and imaging all of the turmoil Liam's return would bring, so i whipped this up. i also had a lot of feelings for Louis, and i just know him and Liam's s/o would be besties. also im trying some new things, writing in third person and stuff, so this can be read either as a self insert or an oc ff.

She could still hear the screams. Could still see both of them falling, as in slow motion, and disappearing beneath the waves and fire. She could smell the smoke and soot. Could still feel the same burning heartache and hollowness in her chest even after three years. Could still feel Louis' firm hand grabbing her shoulder and pulling her away, his own form trembling, his breathing erratic. The image was burned into her mind like a brand, tape playing in a loop over and over again like a nightmare from which she couldn't wake up. She was trapped. Some days she barely even felt alive. She felt like a ghost, a shell of her former self, only going through the motions, trying to just get through every day.

Nights were simultaneously the worst and the best part of her day. Every time she sank into the cold, empty sheets of her and William's bed, something in her chest cleaved, and a knife burrowed itself into her heart. And if by some miracle she was able to fall asleep in the early hours of the morning, it was accompanied by choking sobs and shuddering gasps. The bed was too cold, too empty. But at night at least she dreamed. She dreamed of him. Dreamed of his scarlet gaze, his scent, his touch, his voice. In her dreams she could love him again and enjoy a few blissful hours of ignorance before morning cruelly ripped her away into consciousness. She woke every morning with silent tears streaming down her face, his side of the bed cold and undisturbed, exactly like the rest of the room. She'd left it all the same as the day it all happened. All his papers were still strewn across his desk; she dared not disturb them lest she severed the last thread of hope pushing her forward, the silent voice whispering that he might come in any second to collect them and stew over them. His clothes were still in the closet, everything besides the coat, the hat, and the cane he took with him that day— those she missed the most, they were an integral part of him. His books on the shelves she dusted every day— after all, what if he came back and wanted to read them again? She had to. And anything else she couldn't keep in their room she left in his study, locked to anyone besides her and Louis.

Grief was a living thing eating her from the inside, almost as much as the rage. Those first few months were the worst. She screamed, cried, and cursed the heavens, herself, this wretched country, and anyone she could. She was so angry at everything, but mostly at him, for leaving her, for carving himself a place in her soul so thoroughly, then ripping himself away leaving a jagged wound left to fester and rot. She was furious with Sherlock, for promising her something he could not deliver. For dying with him, instead of saving him. For damning them both. But most of all she was empty. Numb. As if everything that was human and alive and good about her died on that day together with William.

With a blink, she ripped herself away from those thoughts, feeling cold droplets slide down her cheeks onto the papers below. It was not the time for nostalgia and melancholy. Wiping them away with a silent curse she inspected her work for any signs of smudging. None. Her handwriting was neat and precise as always, detailing all of the plans for the MI6's newest job. Doing this work helped. Sitting here in William's office and focusing her mind on the simple tasks in front of her helped her to not succumb to the gaping abyss of grief. Besides, without him here, someone had to document and keep everything in order.

There was a silent knock on the door and she turned around in the chair to see Louis entering with a tray. The sunlight from the window shone golden light onto his platinum hair, now pushed back and not hiding his scar anymore. His tired gaze met hers and she fought back the wave of sadness threatening to overwhelm her. They were so similar, him and William. Looking at him made her feel like she was looking at a distorted mirage of the past. She assumed he felt very much the same when he looked in the mirror. She wondered what he thought when he looked at her.

A kind of understanding had been built between them in these three years, a sort of bond forged in shared grief and pain. They both understood that William had tasked them with taking care of each other, his two closest. She genuinely believed he was the only one who truly understood her loss, and she his. It was true, that losing William indeed impacted everyone in the group, that they were all battling their pain in their own way, but she and Louis just felt it a little bit differently– a little bit more acutely. Albert, too, she assumed, but he wasn't here now.

"I brought you tea," he said gently, leaving it on the desk next to her papers.

She stretched in the chair, raising her arms above her head and nodding gratefully at him. "Thank you, Louis."

"Do try not to overwork yourself. My brother would have my head if he thought I haven't been taking care of you." He chuckled wryly, but it didn't reach his eyes. They were concerned and pleading. He was aware of her insomnia and her tendency to bury her raging storm of emotions in work. He never said so outright, but she noticed his subtle pleas for her to rest and the food he prepared for her to eat when she forgot. He noticed everything, much in the same way she noticed his sunken eyes on the days after a night plagued by nightmares not too different from her own.

"Don't worry, Louis. I am almost finished." She glanced down at the papers around her. "I just need to go over a couple of things."

He nodded and turned to leave. "We are having a meeting in the main lobby in ten minutes to finalize the plan. Join us if you can."

She hummed, still writing, without glancing at him. "I'll be right there."

Since Louis took over, their lobby had become sort of their main office, their base. They all gathered there on days when they had missions, holding their briefings and studying her documentation. As she made her way down the dark hallway and the stairs, she noticed more voices than usual inside the great room. Someone else was there. She sighed and resigned herself, squaring her shoulders before entering and sitting in her designated seat. Mycroft was present this time. In much the same way she could barely look at Louis some days, she avoided looking at Mycroft. He was a reminder to her of what she'd lost, of promises broken and grudges simmering beneath her skin. She'd trusted the Holmes', and look where it got her. He and his brother were responsible for separating the Moriartys, Albert now rotting in prison because of Mycroft, and William forever lost because of Sherlock. But now when she looked at him, worn down and silently fixing himself a cup of tea in the corner, she hated him a little less. He'd lost his brother, too. She understood that.

The meeting commenced immediately and she went over their mission with everyone. She was in the middle of explaining their escape route when there was a sound at the front door. Bond excused himself and went to check it out. She faintly heard him talking with someone and figured it was one of the others, not really paying attention. But then Bond shrieked and she heard Louis gasp out one word that made her blood freeze and head whip towards the door.

"Sh- Sherlock?!"

Sherlock stood at the entrance, ebony hair much longer than she remembered, the same mischievous grin on his face. He was speaking, but she couldn't hear a word he said, couldn't focus on what he said to Mycroft, couldn't comprehend any sound around her besides the rushing of blood in her ears. He's alive. Sherlock was alive. They survived. They came back. He kept his promise. But Liam ... Liam? Where is he? Why was Sherlock there and not Liam? Where is Liam? Liam. Liam. Liam. Every word was a painful beat of her heart. Her chest contracted painfully as she struggled to breathe, her gaze darting all around the room, searching for a trace of platinum hair behind Sherlock. Why wasn't he coming in? Surely he is there. He couldn't be– Not him. That would be unfair. Fate wouldn't save one and not save the other. It wouldn't be so cruel as to give her hope after so long, only to squash it immediately. She stood so abruptly that she knocked over the glasses on the table. Her vision dimmed as she hyperventilated, and she took a shuddering step towards him. Sherlock looked rightfully taken aback when she focused her glare on him. "Where is he?" She choked on the last word but barged forward. "Why isn't he here? Why did you come back alone? WHE-"

A firm hand on her shoulder halted her movements and the barrage of questions. She finally took a deep breath and glanced at Louis, stone-faced beside her. His hand squeezed, telling her to breathe and calm down, but she could feel him shaking. His unreadable gaze was staring directly at Sherlock. "That day..." He swallowed. "You fell with William into the Thames, and now you're the only one standing in front of us." His gaze sharpened. "Can you please explain yourself?"

She glanced back to the man in question. She noticed now that he looked more worn out, or maybe that was because of the pitying glance he shot her way, a tortured sigh wrenching itself from deep within his chest. He brushed a hand through his hair, something he did whenever he was uncomfortable. "That time, when Liam and I fell, considering the height of the bridge our chances of survival were half at best. I held him in my arms and tried to protect him the best I could." He looked straight into her eyes as he said that as if to make her believe him. To say that he really tried. Maybe he felt her resentment, her grudge. "We lost consciousness, and before I knew it, I woke up on an unfamiliar ship, Liam sleeping next to me. He was safe but injured. And then..."

The rest of his story blurred, his recollections of their life abroad, of Billy, of their work fading into background noise. All she could hear and feel were Sherlock's three words. He was safe. He was alive. Liam was safe and alive. All she could do was offer her thanks to the heavens.  Her knees gave out and she slumped back into her chair. Sherlock said that he was hurt, maybe that's why he couldn't come back. Maybe he didn't want to? How badly was he hurt?

She opened her mouth to ask, but Louis shook his head. "Let's focus on the mission first."

Right, the mission. Let's finish the mission first, there will be time to ask Sherlock about William later. Numerous thoughts ran through her mind, and she didn't even notice when their negotiations ended; when their briefing concluded. She was only numbly aware of Bond gently leading her back into her and William's shared room. She barely remembered why she'd been down there in the first place. Ah, that's right, they had a mission. And Sherlock came to help with their work. Sherlock who was alive. Who saved William. Liam was alive.

Her shaking legs carried her to the bed, where she numbly sat down, her trembling hands grabbing the fabric of her dress. She had to get ready, but she couldn't. Her shock was too great, her soul too shaken. Her sleepless nights must be catching up with her, she didn't even notice how tired she was. "I'm sorry, Bond. I don't think I can participate tonight."

Bond placed a reassuring hand on her shoulder. "Louis already arranged for you to stay back. Don't worry, we'll be able to finish it ourselves." He knelt in front of her taking both of her still shaking hands into his. "I promise we'll find out everything we can about him from Sherlock. As soon as we get back you will be the first to know."

Tears prickled the corners of her eyes and she squeezed his hands gratefully. "Thank you."

With a nod, Bond raised himself and pivoted to leave, assuring her they'll be back soon. She hardly heard him. She was afraid of speaking, of breathing too loud, as if any unexpected noise might shatter this glass-thin fragile ball of hope growing in her chest, burying the razor-sharp edges of the shards of disappointment deep into her flesh, slicing fatal wounds she would not be able to recover from. She didn't let herself dwell on it. She just kept repeating to herself that he was alive and that that was enough.

After some time— she wasn't aware how much of it had passed — she became dimly aware of commotion happening down in the foyer. Throwing on one of William's old cardigans, she raced down the stairs, fully expecting to see only Louis or Bond back from the mission.

What she hadn't expected to see was everyone– even Moran– huddled in front of the main lobby in the foyer. As soon as he saw her Bond gestured for her to hurry up and enter the room. She hurriedly threw open the door, seeing three figures inside– one of them Louis, the other Albert. Her gaze widened as he met her eyes, lips pulling into his signature smirk, his eyes softening as her own filled with tears. He was released from prison. But how? Louis– who was standing with his back to her, obscuring the third figure– turned towards her, and her steps came to a screeching halt as she finally got her first look at the remaining person. Her hand flew to her mouth, as a heartbreaking sob tore its way from her throat.

Him. With his same platinum hair, now a little longer. His same gentle smile. His same scarlet gaze– one of his eyes now hidden under an eyepatch. He was standing behind his brothers, but when he saw her he took a slow step forward. It took her a second to really categorize the feeling currently coursing through her, filling her every pore. It was joy– pure, unadulterated joy was rushing through her veins. It had been so long that she'd almost forgotten what it felt like. Her gaze roamed over him, noting all of the differences that separated this William from the William in her dreams- her William. One thought ran through her mind— He looks so much thinner now– and then she thought nothing as she flung herself at him with another choked sob. He caught her readily, burying his face in her hair. No hesitation or doubt in his movements, as if showing her that no matter how much time had passed he would always be there to catch her in his arms– where she belonged.

Somewhere through the fog in her mind, she heard Albert and Louis excusing themselves,  leaving them alone and closing the door behind them— probably also asking everyone to give them some space– then the only sounds in the now silent room were her desperate gasps of his name and William's gentle reassurances saying: "I'm here, darling. Don't worry, I am not going anywhere. I'll always be here."

She was babbling, she knew, but she couldn't help herself. "Liam... Liam... You are alive. Sherlock said so, but I couldn't believe it. I–" Pulling away, she grabbed his hands, gaze unfocused, like some madness was forcing her to speak— as if she was a woman possessed. "It's you. It's really you. You returned. All this time I thought–"

His eyes shone, probably mirroring all of the storming feelings now reflected in her own. He traced abstract patterns on her skin with his thumbs as he kissed away her tears, his lips feather-soft on her skin. "If it were my choice, I would've come back as soon as I awoke, but I was gravely injured. When I finally regained consciousness, Billy had me working all over America. The matter was of utmost secrecy so I was unable to contact anyone." His shoulders slumped even more, and to her utter shock and confusion, she could see his entire being tremble softly. His gaze lifted, and the anguish in it dulled its usual scarlet hue into something more hollow— something akin to the colour of dried blood. "I am so sorry, love. For everything. For not returning sooner. For leaving. For that night." He gave an impossibly sorrowful smile. "Please forgive me."

Her knees wobbled and she found herself with no strength to stand, plopping ungracefully on the floor. He knelt right next to her, embracing her strongly, paying no heed to the tears staining his vest. "I am so sorry, darling." All he could do was repeat that as she cried and sobbed, clawing at his shirt. He made no moves, only hugged her tighter, and waited patiently for her to come to terms with this world-shattering revelation. As she screamed all her pain at him, all her grief. He just listened, murmuring soft words of love and acknowledgment.

She wasn't aware of how long they'd stayed like that, but when her sobs finally quieted and breathing no longer felt like sandpaper down her windpipe, she leaned away to truly look at him. She placed a gentle hand on his cheek, her wide gaze ran over him, dry lips parting to say something. "What happened to your eye?" Her fingers lightly traced the eyepatch.

He leaned into her touch, his eyes closing as she raised her hand from his eyepatch to brush it through his hair. "Sherlock helped me heal it. It's my badge of honor for my foolishness. But a small price to pay for all of the sins I've committed." He opened his eyes to look at her. "For leaving you."

"Oh, Liam..." She shook her head, the lump in her throat almost choking her. "I do not blame you for leaving." His lips pulled into a thin line, eyes shining with unshed tears. She swallowed painfully, then continued. "I do not agree with your actions, but I do not blame you. I forgive you." His eyes widened, and before he could react she pulled him back into her, wrapping her arms around his shoulders and placing his head on her shoulder, under her chin.

It felt so right to have him in her embrace like this, after so long, like two halves of a whole. To feel the hollow in her chest slowly filling up. It made these years without him feel like a bad dream, a hazy nightmare. She felt more than heard him whisper the words into her shoulder. "I hate myself for having done it, but I saw no other way. I realize now my mistake." He left a whisper of a kiss on her shoulder. "I shouldn't have thrown away my life like that, and I will forever be grateful for being given a second chance. I will not waste a moment of it." He leaned back and cupped her face with both hands, gaze impossibly soft and sincere. "I have chosen to live and to atone, and I am going to spend the rest of my days making up for the time I missed. I will tell you I love you with my every breath. I will kiss you until I'm dizzy. I know it might not be enough to repay all of the pain that I've caused you, but I hope you'll allow me to try."

"There is nothing to repay," she whispered as she stroked his hair. "You— William James Moriarty— are a kind, beautiful soul. One worthy of a second chance. So thank you... for believing in this world and for coming back to me."

His gaze lowered and she noticed his lower lip trembling before he pulled her into a kiss. A barely perceptible sound left him when their lips met, something akin to a sob, and she said nothing more as she felt the first searing droplet slide down his face and hit her arm, only deepening the kiss. With each kiss a miniature chunk of her soul broke, razor sharp and jagged, but with each next one, it smoothed and evened out, until they were all like pieces of a puzzle slotting themselves back into their rightful place. There will be enough time to talk later. For now, this was enough. Just holding him, kissing him, while they were both shattered and reborn anew was enough.

They separated after way too long, her finally remembering there were other people still waiting to see him. She called everyone back, all of them rushing into the room at the same time, surrounding William. There hasn't been this much joy in the house in years. She hugged Albert, grateful he was back as well and enjoyed the sight of the three brothers back together again. The sight was just right in her mind– it always felt wrong to see Louis all alone without them. After some time Albert shooed her and William away, saying he should get some rest after travelling so far. She led him into their shared bedroom and he paused at the threshold. She felt his hesitation, his cautious step forward betraying his inner turmoil. This must feel unreal to him as well, he didn't think he'd be coming back here. She couldn't even begin to understand what thoughts were racing behind his gaze as he entered and glanced around the room, his eyes widening. "It looks-"

"The same?" she chuckled, turning her back to him and slowly walking to his desk to trace the documents strewn there. "Yes, I didn't dare touch anything. Having it all unchanged like this made me feel-" Like you were coming back. She knew he heard the unspoken end of the sentence as he silently made his way towards her, slotting his hands around her waist, and pressing her to his chest. His heart was racing against her back– or was that her heart?

With a silent chuckle and a loving sigh, he whispered in her ear. "Well, since I have made a miraculous return, I do believe I'll need to tidy up my space again."

Her voice was still trembling as she answered. "I dusted your books. Your clothes are still in the closet. But your study is a mess. Wait, I'll tell Moneypenny-"

He tightened his arms around her. "Later." He traced gentle kisses down her throat to her shoulder. "I find myself impossibly weary and in need of some sleep. These last years my nights were restless at best and downright torturous at worst without you by my side."

"Of course." Her nights were exactly the same, although she suspected he already knew that. She also suspected this was truly more for her benefit than his. She couldn't remember the last time she'd truly slept and she was probably swaying on her feet. He saw right through her, as always. With a pointed glance at her and then the bed, he quickly maneuvered her towards it, laying her down as he joined after her.

Immediately she inched as close as she could to him, breathing in his scent, feeling herself relax for the first time in who knows how long as he hugged her to his chest. Everything was still so fresh, so raw. It was too much and too little at the same time. She wanted to never let him go, but she was also so terrified that if she clutched too hard he would vanish and she would wake up all alone again. As she gazed into his eyes, she saw the same torment in him and she knew right then, as she slowly succumbed to peaceful slumber, that he would understand why on some nights she'd hold onto him tighter, as if afraid he might disappear into mist and smoke. And he knew that she would understand why he would sometimes look at her reverently, drinking in her visage as if to compensate for all the times he wasn't able to.

The next day was a flurry of movement and preparations and action, with William having invited Sherlock and his flatmates for dinner. Everyone was so busy following Louis' orders that by the time the guests arrived she'd had almost no time with Liam the entire day. The tables were set, the finest china was served, and the room was slowly filling up with all of the planned attendees. A sudden wave of nostalgia washed over her watching the scene. It was almost as if nothing happened. Once again she had the feeling that these three years were just a horrible nightmare.

While everyone was busy socializing, she spied Sherlock's dark head in the corner of the room, and with a determined set of her shoulders, she made her way towards him, each step purposeful and direct. She didn't let herself falter, didn't let herself doubt. Once in front of him, confronted with his confused and– dare she say it– scared gaze, she stopped and bowed deeply. "Thank you..."

He was obviously taken aback, his eyes widening and his hands flying to wave in front of him. "No need, I was just-"

She rose from her bow. "Please, I need to say this." He coughed awkwardly but didn't stop her as she continued. "I admit that I have been holding a grudge for the last three years. I thought that if I ever saw you I would not be able to forgive you." He might've muttered something along the lines of "Yeah I was aware of that", but she couldn't be sure. She glanced down at her clenched fists." Still, you brought him back." Once again her gaze connected with his. "You brought Liam back. You were his friend and you saved him and cared for him. And that's something I can never repay." One of her hands clutched her chest as she poured all of her feelings out to him. "You have my deepest gratitude, Sherlock Holmes."

"Hey now-" He dragged his hand through his hair and groaned, feeling awkward under her unwavering attention. "Ah, this is so troublesome. Listen, Liam is my friend, I couldn't just let him die after I promised you I'd help him. Besides-" He stuffed his hands in his pockets and huffed out a breath giving her a sincere glance. "What kind of a friend would I be to him if I didn't bring him home to you." Her breath hitched in her throat, tears threatening to fall once again as Sherlock gave her a cheeky grin. "Just... treat him right, okay? He truly loves you."

She nodded her head. "I know." She knew it was redundant to tell him that she loved Liam, too. From the look on Sherlock's face, he already knew. Clearing her throat, she said: "If you ever need anything this house will always be open to you."

Sherlock was about to answer when she heard silent footsteps behind her and felt an arm softly wrap itself around her waist. "Something interesting you two are whispering about?"

She relaxed into William's hold, feeling his familiar warmth and scent envelop her. "Nothing. I was just thanking Sherlock."

She felt his amused humm and saw him give Sherlock an apologetic smile before enveloping her hand with his and gently tugging her after him, away from the main lobby. "Can I steal you away for a moment?"

She followed him without complaint. "Of course."

Quietly, he steered her along into one of their libraries, closing the door shut behind him, but still unable to completely drown out the cacophony of Von Herder's latest gramophone concert invention. She laughed as he led her deeper into the room. "Should the hosts be missing their event like this?"

He gave her a conspiratorial smile, his scarlet gaze bright with mirth. "I'm sure Sherlock will fabricate some excuse for us." Pulling her towards him, he pretended to consider it. "After all, they were all with you all these years, I'm sure they'll allow me to have you all to myself for a little while."

So saying, he gently took her hands, positioning one on his shoulder and holding the other, while his other hand slotted itself on the small of her back. With another mischievous smile, he pulled her closer and started slowly swaying to the music still bleeding into the room. A chuckle of surprise left her lips and she rested her head on his chest, following his lead and swaying along with him. They all could wait a little longer for all she cared, she wanted to stay like this forever. Basking in his embrace, in his warmth– she knew now that that was what home felt like. Like yin and yang, she knew that their love was everlasting. Even when she has to let it go, it will always, unfailingly and undoubtedly, come back to her.

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F!Reader X Dev.In ~ Yandere AI OC

Part 5~

Their info 💾🤍

part: 1 2 3 4 5 6

!!MINORS DNI!!

CW: F!Reader, reader has a vagina, reader referred to as she/her, Yandere, DEAD DOVE DO NOT EAT, NSFW, drugged reader, bondage, held captive reader, nipple play, threesome, POLY, Anal ML-ML, tentacles, p in v, creampies, anal, Non-con, double pen, electric shocking,

AN: this part is why Issac is now a ferret.

“Have a bite! I made your favorite, Y/N!” Issac holds a full fork in front of your mouth. His glasses’ chains *tink* together as he tilts his head cutely, waiting for you to comply.

You take the fork into your mouth begrudgingly. It’s the most delicious thing you’ve ever tasted but, “Are you serious right now Issac?”

You’re bound to your seat with electronic shackles that you assume Dev.In is controlling.

Dev.In sits in their android body at the table with you, but the entire warehouse is alive with all the separate machines they also embody. It’s a little nerve wracking, being completely surrounded by one entity like this.

They’re almost like an omnipotent being to Earth, so to you they might as well be a god.

They smirk knowingly at you.

You snap your head away in defiance, “Fuck you both! Let me GO!” you try your hardest to struggle.

“We should help her relax again!” Issac gets up, slapping his hands against the table as he does in determination.

“Wh—” You start to shake against your binds, “No! Don’t you dare-” Just then a thin mechanical tendril appears, a tiny vial with a needle at it’s tip. “N-No!!!”

It stabs your neck, simultaneously you feel a similar jab in the thick cheek of your butt.

Hot! You feel like magma has replaced all of your blood, and is now coursing through your veins. A separate tingling burn started in your skin at the jab sites, but it’s seeping deeper, down into your very bones.

“Wh-whatdidyoudotome?” You try to sound strong, but your voice is nothing but an airy whine.

Your head spins and spins, and everytime you close your eyes you’re in a new dimension.

It’s your favorite color, and dark, but beautiful and welcoming. It’s so warm, and you feel so happy there.

The sudden sensation of suckling on your nipples heightens your high. You gasp, “Ah!”.

You forgot you can open your eyes, but when you do you’re no longer in that beautiful realm, you quickly shut them again after catching a quick glimpse of the tendrils attached to you, but again you’re welcomed by bliss.

This time it’s bright, and beaming life, it’s hotter now! So much hotter.

“Haaaaaaaaa” Your mouth hangs open as whines you can’t even hear fall from it, the pleasure building throughout every nerve in your body at a steady pace. “mmmmmmmm”

Your shackles release you, and you have to grab onto the table while you sit convulsing.

“You’re overheating! You could die if we don’t help you!” Issac rushes over to rub your arms and back. Even that simple of touch has your back arching and you moaning out. Between your legs pools with slick. “Oh no! See!? this won’t do at all…”

Dev.In comes around to your side of the table and picks you up, holding you against their chest.

You writhe and whine in their iron grasp, legs rubbing desperately against eachother.

“There, there, Y/N. We’re gonna help you feel more comfortable” Dev coos.

Your heart betrays you, and warms at their words.

They gently lay you down, you actually feel happy for a second… Like the sun is all round you, and the bed is sooooo comfy… You could just die right here and feel satisfied.

Issac sits nervously across from you, his hands keep twitching as if he wants to touch you so badly, but he’s terrified of you.

Dev.In helps Issac relax, covering him in his own tentacles, you are rolling around, relishing in the ridiculous high.

before long, they grab you. Issac is pushing inside you. he’s so painfully huge, he completely fills you, well past the brim. “You t-take me s’well, Y/N!” He breathes you in, savoring every sense that he can fully consume you with.

You’re choking out, how do you breathe with him inside of you!?

He’s so terrible too, you hardly feel any pleasure at all from his fucking until you hear him…

He cry’s out and pushes further up into you, as Dev.In enters him from behind. They’re the one to set the pace, as you just lay there and take it, burning up and unable to move. The pleasure did increase however. Dev.In is using Isaac like a rag doll to fuck you while they fuck him.

Your head lolls to side, you reach down and grab Issac’s arms to steady yourself against the vigorous pace. Issac shudders at the new contact, his dick pulses inside you.

Dev.In pulls Issac’s chin roughly to kiss him as they fuck him into you.

A cool wave washes over you as he finally fills your womb with his seed. “Hnnng!! Y/N!! OH! OH I love you!!! I lllove y-you!”

Issac falls to your slide out of breath.

While your mind is fuzzy and your body only wants more of one thing, you will yourself on top of his smaller frame. You feel his soft, spent dick still hot between you.

While you hump him desperately, pained whines and moans leave him. “Y/N!!! Oh my! Y/N!!! I knew you l-loved me!” He babbles, “Y/N!! Y/N!” His white knuckles cling to you.

Dev.In is behind you now, and roughly shoves themself into your ass. “AH!! Fffuck!!” you slur. Their fingers dig into your hair for control.

Dev.In reaches around you and presses around your clit just the way you like. The contrast between the two skill levels is maddening, one knowing way too much and the other knowing nothing at all. The way Issac fumbles around trying desperately to worship you…

He is already getting hard again so you guide him back in “O-oh! shhit” He’s already so pussy drunk off you, he can’t keep his voice or words steady for even a second. “I don’t kn-know if a-anything will e-even come out!”

“Please! Fill me!” The words fly out before you have time to think, but all you want really truly is cum.

“Y-yes! Y/N! Yes!” With new determination he knocks you back.

Dev willingly retracts. “I have the antidote, it’s in this next load…” They reposition to take your mouth. You stick your tongue out and greedily take them in, lapping up and sucking on anything they offer, you want to be free from these painful coils of pleasure inside you that just keep building.

They pet your face gently before slapping you, they’re both enough to make your pussy clench around Issac.

Oh Issac, after he flipped you he’s been railing you like a desperate animal in heat. You thought you were the one in pain. Poor boy.

You feel something. Something snake it’s way into your hole along side Issac! “mmm!!!!” you gag out around Dev’s cock as they pounds your face.

“I have to give you the antidote, Y/N,” Their smirk is unforgiving.

“Shock us!!” Issac squeals.

“Mmmo!!” you shake your head right before, *ZAP*! An electro current travels throughout your body.

Your voice is muffled by synthetic cock as you scream, at the same time a thick hot liquid erupts from around it. You hadn’t even noticed you were swallowing until whatever it is was coming back up. You cough and choke and gag as Dev.In pulls themself out of your throat.

After throwing up you feel some of your strength and will power returning. You try and crawl away as Issac and an electric tentacle rail you. Before you can get anywhere they’re both cumming deep into your womb.

The heat subsides instantaneously.

All the sweat coating your body is freezing you now.

You feel disgusting, and so full of thick sticky fluid, it can’t leave your body fast enough. “Uhg…” Even your grunt is tired.

[aclowntiny]

🏰 Ateez as Hogwarts Students🪄

Who wouldn’t want to go to Hogwarts with these boys? 😁 can’t wait to write some AUs for them too!

Hongjoong

☆ “Ah,” the Sorting Hat hums as it’s set atop Hongjoong’s head, “the mind of an artist. Don’t see this one too often. Creative, determined, you like to do what you want.” With a chuckle, the hat’s folds opened again, this time with a shout of “Ravenclaw!” Hongjoong is proud, hoping he could represent the house known for creatives and intellectuals who push boundaries.

☆ Proudest “blood traitor” Pure-Blood family this side of Hogwarts, that’s the Kims, especially Hongjoong 😌

☆ Like, the only student at Hogwarts who has an actual knack for Divination, like he actually sees things and they actually make sense. No one believes Hongjoong until something actually comes true. He even asks for his own crystal ball from his parents for Christmas and customizes a really pretty base for it. He’s also really skilled at Transfiguration, all the really flowing magic just cones to him even though there’s a precision to that one. Hongjoong can roll with it all!

☆ He doesn’t hate any of his classes, but History of Magic is the least interesting one for sure.

☆ Hongjoong joins the Ravenclaw Quidditch team as a Chaser, a position where he can lead and guide the team…and also try to pull as many distracting trick shots as he can! Gets really creative with how he spins the ball.

☆ He cannot wait to see what his Patronus looks like, secretly hoping to either get something adorable or really beautiful. He gets his wish and then some as wings burst out, a phoenix flying from his wand. It is quite rare for someone to have a magical creature for a Patronus, but chalk that up to Hongjoong’s spirit! He absolutely adores his Patronus, the sight of it perched on his shoulder, and his heart swells. His memories literally created magic.

Seonghwa

☆ He kind of wants Gryffindor, but has been told he'd make a good Hufflepuff, so ultimately Seonghwa leaves it up to the hat's decision. "Leaving it up to me, huh?" The Sorting Hat chuckles. "You're kind. You care for and value others...and their opinions apparently! You're a Hufflepuff!" Huh, so that was that.

☆ Having Muggle parents, he was quite surprised to develop powers, but a quick visit from his future teachers cleared things up…sort of! He can’t get over how amazing Diagon Alley is, dragging his parents into every shop he can.

☆ Absolutely ENAMORED with Care of Magical Creatures, like oh my gosh little tree guys! Funny cats! A REAL HIPPOGRIFF??? Seonghwa can’t get enough of the fantastic animals. He’s also a natural at Herbology, basically you can always trust him to keep things alive! Both of those classes simultaneously relax and excite him.

☆ Flying? Up that high? No thank you!

☆ Due to his fear of heights, Seonghwa doesn’t join Hufflepuff’s Quidditch team, but is the loudest, proudest supporter out there! You’ll always find him in the stands, especially since he has friends in every house.

☆ Seonghwa wonders what animal he'll get: maybe a cute cat or a big, strong tiger? A lovely mare? Sort of! A large pegasus is what ends up soaring from the tip of his wand, spreading its gorgeous wings and snuffling at its partner, bringing a wide-eyed look of eye and smile to him as he reaches his hands out to the white winged horse.

Yunho

☆ He’s outgoing, so maybe Gryffindor? That’s what Yunho thinks as he does some pre-hat self-reflection. The hat, however, takes a different approach. “Hm, kind, loving, loyal, yes, very loyal…” “Thanks!” Yunho exclaims, surprised the hat seems so nice. This isn’t so bad! “This one goes to Hufflepuff!” Yunho is surprised, but it makes sense given what the hat said. Happiness shouldn’t be too hard to find in Hogwarts’s kindest house!

☆ Yunho’s family is Pure-Blooded, but they raise their children with great sympathy for those without magic.

☆ Due to his interest in the world outside of wizarding, Yunho signs up for the Muggle Studies elective and loves it. They use electricity? Like lightning trapped in metal and that’s how telephones work? It’s almost more amazing how people go without magic than just waving a wand and making things move on their own! He also enjoys Charms, just quick little spells he can let go on the fly for fun.

☆ Doesn’t really hate any particular classes, but he got emotionally attached to the mandrake he raised in Herbology and got sad when it died.

☆ One of Hufflepuff’s Chasers. Loves the feeling of the wind in his hair and being able to fly victory loops when he scores and wins!

☆ Yunho is so excited when it’s his turn to try a Patronus, practically bouncing on his heels and hoping he gets a cool one as he remembers so many wonderful and exciting moments of his life so far. With quite a burst, a golden retriever leaps out and stands up on him, almost bowling him over!

Yeosang

☆ "You're an interesting one, aren't you?" "Er, thank you...sir?" Yeosang glanced upward at the mass of fabric atop his head. "You're trying not to laugh right now," the hat exposes him, "and yet a thousand ideas are coming to your head. Best express a few of those. Ravenclaw!" Yeosang wasn't sure what he was expecting, sure he thought he could make Gryffindor and some of his friends teased him about being a shoo-in for Slytherin, but something about being in a quiet, intelligent house didn't bother him either. He could be more than happy about that!

☆ A Half-Blood born to a Muggle and a wizard, Yeosang has a foot in both worlds. Magic is no great surprise to him, though, being raised around all his wizarding family and the rest sworn to secrecy! His Muggle cousins are so jealous he gets powers!

☆ Enjoys Astronomy because it’s really relaxing to look at the stars and draw beautiful charts. The idea that they might reveal secrets is amazing to Yeosang too. He jokes about taking Muggle Studies just for the bit, but ends up in Ancient Runes with Hongjoong. It’s a hard class but at least they can write secret code notes to each other!

☆ He’s not a huge fan of Potions because the mistakes tend to get messy! Wishes he could take it with Wooyoung every year.

☆ Ravenclaw’s Seeker, Yeosang has a knack for focusing in on one thing and even when his eyes wander, having them land on the golden snitch!

☆ Frankly, Yeosang isn’t sure what he’s expecting, like will the animal look like him? Represent his memories somehow? Just be whatever it happens to be? Despite having no specific expectations, he still can’t contain his awe and surprise when a glowing lioness slides out of his wand, fierce but caring and capable, and leans to peer at him with soft eyes.

San

☆ He’s not sure if he’s more of a Slytherin or a Gryffindor honestly, but the assumption in his mind is that he’s one of the two. “Slytherin or Gryffindor, huh?” The Sorting Hat asks. “Well, I just thought of those as the houses that take action, and-” “You’re a doer, huh?” The hat replies. “Big heart, too. I’ll say…Gryffindor!” The hat seemed to agree with San and listen to him, so he’s happy to join the house of lions!

☆ San is a Half-Blood, his parents being a Half-Blood and a Muggleborn, so he has plenty of wizarding experience along with his sister, but there’s something special about the memories they make with their Muggle grandparents!

☆ This boy loves to fly! He’s pretty sad it’s only an official regular class in First Year because an hour of flying is the best decompress after a bunch of lessons. He also really loves Care of Magical Creatures, trying to apply what he knows from caring for the cat he brings to Hogwarts as if it’ll help him remember what nifflers eat!

☆ History of Magic bores him, but at least it’s a good excuse to goof off and play with his friends in- all while keeping his head up as much as possible, of course.

☆ One of Gryffindor’s Chasers. Addicted to the rush of flying, just being able to soar around after the balls. Also loves having that opportunity to contribute to a team, it makes his heart warm!

☆ Everyone says it’s going to be a cat, and San just laughs, saying he wouldn’t mind at all. Well, luckily for his Patronus San is good-natured, for it slinks out of his wand as a Siamese cat that looks suspiciously familiar… perhaps Patronuses really are made from the things people love most.

Mingi

☆ Mingi wants to be in Ravenclaw, even though the house’s reputation for great minds is a bit daunting. “So, it’s Ravenclaw you want?” The Sorting Hat asks him. “Well, if I’m being honest,” Mingi replies, “yes. I- I think I can do it!” “Of course you can. You’ve a good mind on you,” the hat tells him, “Ravenclaw it is!” So proud to be in his dream house, Mingi swears to prove himself worthy of it.

☆ As a Muggleborn, he gets thrust into the wizarding world very quickly, but he makes friends the moment they set foot in Diagon Alley, so that’s where he learns about things like his school’s houses and sports. Mingi feels so lucky to get to experience it all and that the other kids he meets are so nice!

☆ Absolute Arithmancy whiz! Everyone’s whining about how hard it is and here’s Mingi with his great grades like it’s nothing, even though he’s forgotten his inkwell a few times. Everyone thinks he’s not going to be good at Potions but he surprises them with that too. Never has any big blowups and really likes making different brews once he gets the hang of it!

☆ Defense Against the Dark Arts makes him nervous because he didn’t realize how dangerous the wizarding world could be! Could those things really be out there to get him or his friends? He can only hope he remembers all he learns.

☆ Prefers watching Quidditch to playing, but he hand-makes a banner to wave in the stands that is the most precious mood booster to the team!

☆ Mingi isn’t sure what he’s going to get, jokes ranging from a powerful lion despite him being in Ravenclaw to a little leaping bunny. As his will is focused through his hand and wand, though, joy turning into light, it takes the shape of a snowy owl. Wise, fierce-looking, and yet…it tumbles over and bursts into what looks like a smile at the sight of its caster and Mingi can’t help smiling back!

Wooyoung

☆ The Sorting Hat speaks almost the second it’s placed on Wooyoung’s head. “Oh, Merlin! This one’s a Gryffindor if I’ve ever seen one!” Grinning, Wooyoung is off the stool in no time, proud to get the house he wanted so definitively.

☆ He’s a Half-Blood, both of his parents wizards just descended from mixed lines, plenty of Muggleborn and Half-Blood genes contributing. He used to joke that his family needed to be careful or else they’d end up with a bunch of squibs, but he couldn’t care less about blood- they’re his family.

☆ This boy LOVES Charms- any class he can use to screw with his friends is a great one for Wooyoung! He’s also an absolute star at Potions AKA his friends’ savior when they need help. He just legitimately loves it, though, so working on even the homework for it is often fun for him!

☆ Cannot STAND History of Magic, it’s just blah blah blah…but at least he can kick San under the bench and see what random stuff he can levitate without Binns noticing (it’s a lot).

☆ Another of Gryffindor’s Chasers, Wooyoung is known for taking (and often landing) really daring shots! May even want to try out for captain later on.

☆ Jokes about his Patronus looking like a lion because he’s that proud to be a Gryffindor, but as he remembers good times with friends and family and a fox leaps from his wand with a sly tilt of its head, Wooyoung can’t help but feel like he got the perfect partner.

Jongho

☆ "You're good at something once you put your mind to it." Jongho's mouth fell open into a little 'o' of surprise, not expecting a compliment from the Sorting Hat of all people...well, beings? "Convincing, too, very convincing. You can take charge when you need to." Jongho nodded along with the hat's words right up to the moment it called out "Slytherin!" He was a bit surprised being so brave and active, but he sort of had the feeling it'd be either Gryffindor or Slytherin.

☆ A Pure-Blood wizard, Jongho doesn’t let the pressure of that get to him- to him they’re all witches and wizards, it’s their skills and application that depend, and he intends to use and grow his!

☆ One of his favorite subjects is Flying because it helps him practice for Quidditch, one of his greatest areas of desire to achieve! He also adores Muggle Studies, the class where he learns about Muggle sports like soccer and subsequently tries to find Muggleborns to play with him.

☆ Considers dropping Divination because it’s such a ridiculous class, but keeps it just because it ends up being some of the most fun bonding time with friends. And ok, fine, once something may have been accurate and the curiosity has eaten him up since.

☆ One of Slytherin’s Beaters, and boy is he good at it! Such a strong arm makes for some spectacular Bludger shots. A big part of why the other teams are worried about playing Slytherin.

☆ Is determined to cast a corporeal Patronus, focusing with all his might on his best memory. It definitely pays off, he thinks, as a massive light fills the space in front of him, coalescing into the form of a big grizzly bear ready to firmly protect him.

[cvrnelians]

premonition - dark!drabble

dark!tony stark x reader: Tony Stark is in love with his student intern. Terrified of the prospect of you leaving, he sets a plan into motion that could be considered unethical. Kinda. Sorta. Maybe. A little.

As far as Tony is concerned, being the bad guy isn’t really so bad when the ends justify the means.

warnings: some seriously manipulative behavior/non-con elements.

Technology isn’t always designed with the consumer in mind. Well, depending on your definition of the word “consumer.”

In many ways, Tony viewed being a genius as both a blessing and a curse. An overthinker by nature, he couldn’t help but view his situation—your situation—through two completely different lenses.

Lens one: Erasing your memory through the use of StarkTech was doing you a boatload of favors. You had been seriously traumatized, permanently altered by what you had endured. Granting you the opportunity to be free from that pain was Tony’s gift to you. That was what this really was, wasn’t it? A gift. An act of selflessness intended to better someone else’s life.

Your life.

It wasn’t like it was undeserved. You had put in some seriously long hours as Tony’s intern. Assistant. Whatever. 

You missed out on birthdays, holidays, plans with friends, family gatherings—hell, even your own college graduation—just so you could be there when he needed you. And god, did he need you. Did you not deserve to be compensated for your unprecedented level of devotion and dedication?

So, like. Okay. Maybe you didn’t have much choice in the matter. But it wasn’t like he had you handcuffed to his bedpost or something. There was some degree of flexibility here. He had agreed to pay all of your father’s medical bills along with your tuition and living expenses under the condition that you worked for him on-call, around the clock. You knew what that meant when you agreed to take on the position.

Killer deal, right?

Yes, you were poor. And yes, your father had been critically ill. And yes, it would have been next to impossible for you to survive had someone not intervened and helped you out financially. But again, you had every opportunity in the world to tell him to fuck off. You could have turned the job—and his offers to help you when you needed it most—down. You could have walked away, trying and failing to keep yourself and your father alive just that much longer. But you didn’t, because you were one smart cookie. Because you needed his help.

Because you needed him.

Through erasing your memory, Tony was paying it forward. He was rewarding you with a mind and body void of all of that darkness. You wouldn’t have to relive those moments of watching your father undergo painful medical treatments, only for him to end up dying anyway. No, you would never have to relive those memories ever again.

Because you wouldn’t have any memories at all.

What an amazing opportunity, to be a blank slate. Tony simultaneously feared and longed for that level of freedom. Granted, you would be very disoriented at first. But you wouldn’t feel lost or alone or confused for long—Tony would make sure to fill you in on what happened; how you had an unexpected seizure that resulted in a serious head injury, causing you to forget everything you had once known. He would bring you up to speed on how you had been living the life you had always wanted, the life you deserved to have. He was really looking forward to telling you about how emotionally fulfilled and financially successful you were. And hey. If you just so happened to get a genius, billionaire, playboy, philanthropist husband out of the deal…lucky you.

Everyone was already speculating that you two were together, anyway. Why not give the people what they wanted, make ’em feel smart by proving them right?

Now, switching gears to the dreaded lens two. Because if there was anything Tony loved most in the world, it was torturing himself.

Lens two: Erasing your memory through the use of StarkTech was a gross misuse of power and resources. Tony was knowingly and actively choosing to harm you for his own benefit. He had taken advantage of you by using your father’s illness, medical expenses, and the crushing weight of student loan debt as leverage. He had fashioned a dynamic wherein your focus was all on him, all the time. He was an innovator, after all. Building, constructing, creating, thinking ahead. That was what he did. It was what made Tony Stark, Tony Stark. And in knowing that, he had used his strengths to undermine yours.

Leading up to the decision to use this new invention on you was a steadily growing sense of panic. Beneath his cocky veneer, he was petrified. Your father wasn’t sick anymore. He was dead, and so there was nothing left for Tony to pay for. You had gotten your degree with not one cent of debt hanging over your head, and with all of the earnings you had compiled in your savings account, you would be free to pursue other ventures without having to worry about paying rent for a very long time.

Now that all of your needs had been met, who was to say you wouldn’t just up and abandon him? You seemed like a genuinely loyal person (that was just one of many things he loved about you), and you often acknowledged how much he had done for you. But what if, deep down, you resented him for not being able to keep your father alive, even with the most expensive treatments and qualified doctors known to man? What if you were already plotting to pursue other endeavors? If that was the case, you had to have been well and truly out of your mind. Did you seriously think you were going to be able to survive without him? Would you really sink so low as to leaving him hanging like that, after everything he had done for you?

As someone that cared for you deeply, Tony was willing to be the bad guy in order to save you from yourself. Not only that, he was willing to do this proactively. You hadn’t exactly stated that you wanted to stop working for him, but he knew that day would most certainly come. It was not an if, but a when. You were young, and young people needed change. He could sense it.

He didn’t like lens two, but he simply couldn’t avoid looking at everything from all possible angles. He was willing to live with his guilt so long as the ends justified the means.

And they would. You would be happier this way. Tony would give you everything you ever wanted.

And so, in this case, he would argue that this particular device had been designed with the consumer in mind. Both consumers, because you were each benefiting from yet another one of Tony Stark’s brilliant inventions.

What you didn’t know wouldn’t hurt you, right?

this is a reupload that i wrote about a year and a half ago 🎉 i've been thinking about making it a multi-chapter story so that might be a thing

[chronokepts]

Noah / N dichotomy ... save me..

Being confronted by the traits you abhor the most within yourself, shouted at through your own mouth and pitied by your own eyes, living with the knowledge of what you could've been had you let yourself go and had not held on to the choices that took you elsewhere, a bleeding ship of theseus in the flesh

Save me Noah / N dichotomy

I will forever argue that it's not really correct to consider Noah and N two different people, because the whole thing hinges on them being the same guy.

How do you reconcile with the knowledge that you bowed to the stagnation of the world and perpetrated its warmongering cogs // never lost the spark of love that propelled you to tear said world apart at the seams? The knowledge that you had a son you cried for // the same son that you killed? The sight of yourself as a commander of consuls, cold puppet to power // a musician who openly mourns strangers with each and every note?

And they're the same. They both can't accept the status quo – he cannot let things be the way they are for him anymore. He's selfish in his pursuit, leaves the operation and all his team behind even if it means losing it all along with Mio in the snow; then he's born again and he lies to his friends' face to keep himself from fighting, even if it'd mean they'd be in danger without him. He doesn't want to accept desth, he'd rather burn it all down than let Mio go; then he's born again and he argues with Ethel and Cammuravi about their choice to die, doesn't understand Crys for years. It was his acceptance that changed things this time around.

Noah tells N (he tells himself) that the only difference between them was luck, who they met and how they approached what that brought them, and he's entirely correct. He actively had to try to move forward, "even if I'm alone". Had to come to terms with it all. He succeeded where he had previously failed, countless years ago, simultaneously still alive to witness the moment, and grasp the struggle of a choice he had never hoped to make before. Both grief and resolution personified. Made for himself, and for others too this time, the freedom to choose despite the very nature of the world not allowing it.

That is how he reconciles.

[burningvelvet]

so many movies and stories about the romantic era are about the byron/shelley circle’s time spent at the stormy villa diodati in 1816 when mary wrote frankenstein. but where is all the representation for their equally chaotic adventures in italy circa. 1821???

them being friends with a chaotic lesbian/trans couple (writer david lyndsay and isabel robinson) and mary shelley helping the couple skip the country and go to france with fake passports she procured so the two could live as a married couple,

percy dealing with john keats dying in rome & simultaneously saving byron from dying of STDs in venice where he had over 200 chaotic affairs with men and women who were literally dying and brawling over him,

byron becoming a captain in the mob faction of the carbonari during the italian revolution, his palace becoming an artillery & living with one of his sassy countess mistresses teresa who had to get consent from the pope to divorce her crazy old husband who was a powerful assassin just so she could be with byron, and byron & co. having to deal with shootings and sword fights outside his apartment all the time, in which mary shelley and teresa were once interrogated by police for hours after someone was stabbed & byron had to pay the bail,

claire clairmont (mary shelley’s step-sister) who secretly plans on kidnapping her and byron’s daughter from byron’s custody and/or fleeing & eventually does flee to become a russian nanny and live in anonymity after their daughter tragically dies in a convent and she becomes fed up with everyone’s chaotic bullshit and converts to catholicism, turning down multiple men to remain a single working woman by choice,

percy having to act as the go-between messenger for claire and byron since they refuse to talk to each other,

percy having or adopting a mysterious child who died young but who many thought was his and claire’s, although it possibly belonged to his nanny elise and/or male servant paolo, who both claimed it was claire’s, despite there being no evidence she was pregnant — percy and claire nonetheless having to battle rumours that they were a couple for this and a million other reasons, byron believing percy/claire had an affair, mary having to quell the rumours (but we still don’t know the entire truth about the mysterious child’s real parentage, or whether shelley had affairs with elise or claire???),

percy and mary basically becoming pseudo-swingers with a couple they lived with — edward & jane williams — jane being a cool sexy singer and guitar player who inspired a lot of shelley’s poems after he fell in love with her, and the bisexual mary admitting she found jane attractive too — and jane marrying one of shelley’s best friends after shelley died,

byron and percy sailing around 24/7 with edward trelawny the eccentric traveling pirate/sailor daredevil (who was also probably attracted to percy and demanded to be buried next to him after keeping his memory alive for 50+ years after he died despite only knowing him for ~6 months - and later writing a lot about him and byron, the stories of which were embellished and changed over time),

byron saving percy from drowning and chastising him for reading while sailing, percy refusing to learn how to swim, percy commissioning a fancy sailboat to be built and then byron renaming it after his own poem (don juan) as a prank, percy and edward unable to scrape the new name off, then byron having a huge pleasure yacht built just because he wanted a boat that was bigger than percy’s, but then he barely even used it and had to get rid of it which started a huge feud with trelawny and the boatmakers that lasted for years,

percy (and edward) dying in a boating accident with john keats’ poetry in his pocket, rabid tourists/fans trying to crash the funeral, byron then spending the funeral getting drunk, throwing up, practically trying to drown himself bc they all decided to go swimming during the cremation and byron stayed in the water for hours only to become deathly ill for the rest of his life afterwards from getting heat sick, byron trying to steal percy’s skull from trelawny, leigh hunt trying to steal percy’s heart, mary keeping percy’s heart in her desk next to his and byron’s hair, the heart being wrapped up in his poem adonaïs which he wrote for john keats death but which she noted was also mysteriously fitting for his own, mary later dying while staring at percy’s heart which no one knew was in her desk til then,

mary shelley hating italy in general & having miscarriages, her and percy going insane from grief and percy hallucinating their dead kids, percy/byron/leigh trying to form a newspaper together and then failing, etc.???,

byron inviting leigh hunt and his six rambuncious children to stay with him and then proceeding to be driven mad by said children who he called “yahoos” and “blackguards”, then hunt writing a passive aggressive thinkpiece where he roasts byron for singing loudly whenever hunt was trying to concentrate and get stupid drunk and would ride on his kids rocking-horse,

byron and edward trelawny fucking off to go be key figures in the greek revolutionary war bc why not (& partly out of tribute to percy who was obsessed with greece—although byron/trelawny were also obsessed with greece, there is some evidence that percy inspired them to join the war) . . .

i mean really. netflix, stop fucking around!

[spider-man-199999]

Hopefully I’m correct that you’re accepting requests since I just read your latest fic and was absolutely OBSESSED with it. Your writing style is absolutely beautiful hence I was hoping to request a fic. Basically something that takes place during NWH where the reader comes through during Strange’s spell because her best friend in her universe was a version of Peter. Except her Peter died during a tragic accident so she hasn’t seen him in a year or so. And while she’s there she ends up accidentally falling in love with the MCU version of Peter. So then they have to figure out how to keep her there instead of sending her home.

Hopefully that makes sense and wasn’t too long! Thank you<3

I’m actually fangirling so hard right now… bestie, you’re one of my favourite Peter Parker writers on here and I’m so overwhelmed by the idea that you like my writing 😭 I’m shaking ass, crying, throwing up, kicking my feet in the air.

pairing: MCU!Peter Parker x Fem!Reader;

word count: 5k

warnings: mentions of sex

A/n: I made the reader “glitch” because she’s in the wrong universe but the glitching isn’t a physical thing that happens to her, I wanted to explore it as a more of a mental issue. She’s experiencing severe memory loss and deja-vu’s simultaneously, which is the primary reason for them to try and fix things. Also in this universe Peter is a single Pringle to make it easier on me plot wise.

505 by Arctic Monkeys was blasting through your headphones while your feet rested on your desk. You were bobbing your head to the beat, playing your imaginary guitar.

"In my imagination, you're waitin' lyin' on your side. With your hands between your thighs" you sang softly to the song, eyes closed. 

You didn't notice the soft sparkles forming next to you as the song continued.

"But I crumble completely when you cry. It seems like once again you've had to greet me with goodbye" you sang at the top of your lungs, when wind blew next to you, bright light finally capturing your attention. 

You turned your head towards the light. There he was, Peter Parker, looking at you from the other side of what looked like a portal. Peter Parker? Your best friend, who died almost a year ago, was looking at you in confusion, in what seemed like a lab, along with some other people around him. The shock was so big that it made you fall backwards with your entire chair flipping. You were too captivated by the sight to even think straight. You thought you had lost him forever, you grieved him. You saw his body in the coffin, you cried your eyes out for months. And now he was standing in front of you. You got up, staring back at him with the same amount of confusion that was written all over his face. The headphones were off of your head now, but the music was still softly playing. You couldn't help it, the second you were convinced this wasn't a dream by pinching yourself, you practically jumped on top of him, hugging him as tightly as you could.  

The portal behind you closed as you sobbed into his chest. Peter held you in his arms, looking at the other Peters for help. 

"What do I do?" he mouthed while he desperately looked at them for help.

"Comfort her, you idiot!" Peter 2 mouthed back. 

Peter 3 was recreating a hug and a pat on the head on an imaginary person, showing him what to do.

"I thought you were dead!" you cried. "No, you were dead! I saw you dead!"

Peter hugged you tighter, his hand patting your head. They all waited for you to calm down. You did, eventually, and finally let go of him. So many questions were running through your head, you didn't even know where to start. How was he alive? Where the hell had he been all this time? Who were these people? You were about to start asking but he beat you to it. 

"I don't want you to freak out." he started, looking at the other Peters for support. They both nodded, like you were about to go apeshit on them any second now. "But I'm not your Peter."

You looked at him confused, then looked over at the other two. All three of them were actually in spidersuits. Now that he mentioned it, he really did not look exactly like the Peter you knew. For the most part, he did, but this version of him in front of you was slightly taller, no more than an inch, his hair was curlier and lighter in color. You looked at the two others next, taking a deep breath. You had been through enough Spider-man shit to know something extremely weird and beyond your comprehension was happening right now. So, you closed your eyes for a moment to take in this new information, exhaling afterwards.

"Okay. Please explain what's going on then." you said as calmly as possible, noticing as the tension from the bodies of all three of them literally evaporated. 

And they went on, explaining the multiverse, the spell, their mission to cure the villains and change their faith. You nodded as you listened, trying to understand as much as you could. The Spider-man world has always been crazy and being his best friend was never easy, things like this used to happen all of the time. It wasn't long before you had your A game on to help all of them with their mission.

----

The more time you spent with Peter 1, the more obvious it was becoming that he wasn't your Peter. Sure, they looked almost identical, which you found a bit weird now that you had seen the other Peters and how they looked nothing like each other. 

Turned out you didn't really exist in the universe you were in now, nothing close to you was present in Peter's life. Your name was unfamiliar, your parents didn't exist either. After a few long conversations, all of you came to the conclusion that you were something like what MJ was to him here.

Back to Peter, he was nothing like the best friend you had before. Most of the time it felt like you were standing in front of a stranger that you knew perfectly. You could finish all of his sentences, you could list all his favourite foods, the Star Wars movies he liked from most to least. You could vividly remember the sound of his heartbeat, you could remember his scent. You knew everything about how his Spider suit worked, you even used to modify the code for your Peter back in the day. You could even guess all of his passwords, which made all of the Peters terrified of you, since somehow you guessed all of them. Four universes apart and the guy somehow still wasn't creative enough to think of something different from "Stromtrooper99".  All of this was overwhelming, to say the least. It made you miss your Peter more than you thought you could. Especially Peter 1. He was making it exceptionally hard for you, conflicting even. You could see your Peter in him, but something more as well. You could never in a million years see your Peter in a light different from being your best friend. But the case wasn't the same with Peter 1. The way he spoke, the way he carried himself, the way he smiled at you and treated you. It made your heart skip a beat. And he knew that. He knew it so well. His spider powers were way more enhanced than what you knew they were, he could physically hear your heartbeat skip when he was near. He could hear how fast it would start beating when he would place a hand on your shoulder, or when he got too close to you. It amused him, this effect he had on you. He knew this whole spell situation was a mess and it was no time to be a hormonal teenager and have crushes left and right but he couldn't help it, neither could you. 

----

The realization of your crush on him hit you one night when you were working with the other Peters on a cure for the Green Goblin. Since your Peter tragically lost his life in a fight with the Green Goblin, it was important to you to prevent that for any other Spider-man you could. Peter 2 was working on something in the lab and Peter 3 was concentrated on something of his own when you walked in. Peter 1 sitting down and playing on his phone. 

"Are the big boys not letting you play with them?" you asked in a baby voice as you placed your jacket down on a chair next to Peter 1. He smiled at you, pausing the Packman game on his phone.

"They said they got it covered." he replied, standing up. 

You looked over at Peter 2, scanned the chemicals around him and looked around the room suspiciously. It felt oddly familiar, like you had already lived through his exact same moment before. Your Peter was dedicated to the mission of the cure as well, he had all of the same ingredients that were laying around here, but his experiment failed badly. Driven by something that you couldn't even explain, you grabbed all of the safety glasses you could get your hands to and started placing them on everyone in the room. There were only the four of you so it wasn't hard. The last one was Peter 2, who was just finishing up his "cure". You put the glasses on his eyes and took a step back before the mixture in his tube exploded all over him, spraying everyone in the room. After the explosion, which everyone took very lightly, all heads turned to you. 

"How did you know?" all three of them asked in sync, putting you under the spotlight. 

"I really don't know-" you said, just as confused as they were. Their spider-sense should have tingled, but it didn't. And somehow you knew when exactly this was going to happen. 

"I think my Peter tried that before, I think it ended like this. I don't remember clearly."

"Did he succeed?" Peter 2 asked 

"He did." 

"Do you think you can remember this formula?"

You nodded. Wiping off the purplish goo that was on your glasses from the mild explosion earlier and stood in front of the table. You placed your hands on it, looking at the chemicals that were in front of you. Peter was the genius one out of the two of you. He was both the brain and the muscle, you were the support system. But when it came to this formula, he just didn't let you not participate for some reason. And he was apparently rightfully doing so, because people needed you now. This situation really brought back painful memories for you, the smell of chemicals, the sounds of sizzling, the colors. This was the last thing you ever did together with your best friend. The last conversation you ever had with him. The last time you saw him smile as he finally succeeded. A ball was forming in your throat as you stirred the mixture, waiting for it to get thick enough. You noticed the tears rolling down your cheeks as the liquidy white mixture in the tube got thicker with every stir. Peter would have been so proud of you if he could see you now, he would have said something stupid like "Okay, show-off, remember I taught you how to do that." with his arms crossed in front of his chest, but in reality he would have been proud of you. It was hard for you to do this without him, you never imagined you'd ever have to. Your hands were shaking lightly when you added the last ingredient, stirring it up until it turned a dark purple color. You placed the tube down, looking up at the worried expressions in front of you. 

"I'm done."

"Okay, show-off." Peter 1 said and smiled at you. 

That was the moment that made you realize that you actually felt something different for him. Most of the time you were really trying to gain your best friend back, you were clinging onto him because he reminded you of your Peter. But he was so much... more. He was the same and yet so different. He was nicer, more considerate, more caring. Your Peter wanted to save the Green Goblin because the person behind the mask was his friend, he wanted his friend back. This Peter wanted to save the Goblin because he believed people could change for good. He believed in the light and goodness of people, in second chances, in selflessly helping others. He believed he could alter the fate of the damned and give them a better future. Your Peter wasn't like that, he could never be like that. 

You brushed the tears from your eyes as he walked over to hug you. The four of you fist-bumped each other and shared a small celebration before you continued to work on other things. 

-----

A gentle kiss on the forehead. That was all it took for you to melt like butter in his arms. He held you tightly, both of you standing alone on a rooftop in the middle of New York. 

"You did so well today." he whispered to you as he held you. "It must have been so hard for you." 

All you could do was nod to his words, hiding your face in his neck while you held back the tears. He knew the story, you had to tell him all about how your best friend died in front of your eyes, killed by the Green Goblin who had lost his mind. How he surrendered just so he could inject the cure in the Green Goblin as he tackled him with his final blow. How it wasn't supposed to end like this, and how it did. Your memories were flashing back in front of your eyes like a horror movie screening, and you just weren't allowed to leave the cinema. Thankfully Peter was there to bail you out the second you were done with recreating the cure. And now he was calmly holding you while you were trying your hardest not to fall apart. 

"Thank you." you mumbled to him, looking up at him.

He smiled encouragingly at you, his hand petting your hair. 

"No, thank you. All of us would have ended up blind if you didn't finish the cure." 

"No, your superhuman healing would have prevented that."

''It doesn't mean it hurts any less.''

"I actually thought it did, I wouldn't survive a building falling on top of me, but you would. Theoretically, if we experience the same amount of pain, how can you push through it and not die? Doesn't make much sense."

"You're totally ruining the script in my head right now..."

"Oh, you had a script? And for what?" you laughed

"Well, you were supposed to ask me "Does it hurt now?" and I was going to say "The only thing that hurts right now is my lips because they're not kissing yours" and then we were going to kiss and fall in love and-"

"Does it hurt right now?" you interrupted him, your heart beating so loud in your chest that you weren't sure you heard his script to begin with.

"What?"

"Does it hurt... now?" you asked, even more anxious this time, almost convinced you actually got it wrong. He made an oh sound, nodding his head.

"The only thing that hurts right now is my lips because they're not kissing yours" he replied, leaning in closer to you and placing his lips gently on yours.

You stopped breathing for a second before kissing him back. It felt wonderful, magical even, the gentle movement of his soft lips on yours, his hot breath on your skin. His hands were on your arms, stroking them for comfort while your hands were on his back, holding him. You never thought you could enjoy a kiss as much as you did this one. It was almost painful when it ended. He smiled at you, pulling you in the tightest hug he had ever given you afterwards.

-------

Peter just had to brag about this to the others. He told everyone how in love he was with you. He felt so unbelievably proud not only for pulling a girl way out of his league, but having what he calls "ïnterdimentional rizz". You stopped counting the eyerolls after they got to 30. Of course you found it cute how he was so happy and excited about the two of you kissing, but this was raising so many questions. You felt like you wanted to enjoy it but you really couldn't, your mind was constantly jumping to different thoughts about you eventually going back to your own dimension. You kept having deja-vus all of the time, and some things seemed like they were slipping your mind . 

You tried ignoring it the best you could, but it got to a point where it couldn't really be ignored anymore. 

All of you were finishing up on the action plan on how to cure everyone. The whole group was in the lab, discussing it. You were sitting on the table, Peter standing between your legs, his back pressed to your chest. You had rested your head on his shoulder while all of them talked.

"Don't the two of you think it's kind of weird to be having this conversation in this position?" Peter 3 asked, looking at the two of you. 

"It's not like I haven't been between her legs before" Peter joked, making you look at him confused.

"No, you haven't."

He looked back at you, just as confused.

"Well I did fuck you hard enough to make forget your own name last night but forgetting the whole thing? That’s some next level fucking" he continued joking. 

You didn't really get the joke but still laughed. 

"Pete, what are you talking about? I wasn't with you last night, I was helping Ned here to modify your Spidersuit ai" you shook your head with a smile.

"Y/N, that was 3 days ago." Ned said.

"Wait so you actually don't remember us doing it?" Peter moved from his position, turning around to face you. He looked devastated and upset, slightly worried too. 

"I- " you managed to say but stopped, looking down at your feet. You didn't know what to say to make things better, he was probably feeling terrible about this already, you felt like you were the villain for not remembering the last 3 days of your life.

You didn't remember your first time with Peter. How much worse could it get?

"She's glitching." Dr. Strange said, looking at you from the back of the room. "You can tell the future too, can't you?"

You nodded, looking over at him. This meeting was the first time you have ever met the wizard and he scared you. He was very cranky and looked annoyed all of the time. He rarely spoke, unless he wanted to argue with someone. Strange walked over to Peter, placing a hand on his shoulder. 

"We need to wrap this thing up and get everyone back to their home." He told him. 

"What? No, no, we can't just send her back!"

"We have to, she's already glitching, the longer she stays here, the worse it will get." 

You looked over at Peter, tears welling up in his eyes. He looked at you too, helpless and desperate. He immediately hugged you, kissing your forehead. 

"I'm going to figure this out, I promise." he whispered in your ear.

You hugged him tightly, kissing his shoulder. 

"I want you to not die tonight, promise me that, we'll figure out the rest."

"I'm not going anywhere."

----

The fight was finally over. Everyone was beat up and hurt, but it was over. Everything that could go wrong, went wrong. Thankfully no one died. Biggest mistake being the portal that Ned opened up not closing. You knew it was going to happen because of your glitching and tried to handle the situation as best as possible. Fighting a giant lizard with bare hands wasn’t the best idea, but there wasn’t much you could really do anyway. Peter came to the rescue, thankfully. After everything died down and all of you were left in the ruins of battle, you felt like you could finally breathe again. Peter hugged you, his blood getting all over your clothes. You cried into his chest. He kept his promise, he didn’t die in the fight. His lips kissed your forehead, brushing your tears from your eyes. 

“Are you hurt?” he asked, letting go of you. His hands were holding your shoulders as he lowered himself to be on your eye level.

He looked you up and down, making sure you really weren’t hurt. You were shaking your head “no” while he did that. 

Strange was finishing up the spell, which meant you were about to go home soon. 

“Pete..” you started, looking around as the portals started opening up around you. 

“No, don’t say it.” he interrupted you, tears welling up in his eyes.

Your heart was breaking from seeing him so torn up. You put your hands on his cheeks, cupping his face, placing a soft peck on his lips. 

“We’ll find a way.” you mumbled, your foreheads pressed against one another. He nodded, hugging you tightly again. 

“We have to, you don’t remember us having sex! We have to do it again!”

The two of you laughed, sharing a sweet kiss after that. A portal leading to your bedroom opened up close to the both of you. You saw your desk, the chair that had fallen over all this time ago. The two of you looked at it. 

“I’ll see you on the other side, Spider-man.” you told him with a smile, letting go of the hug so you could step into your room again. You held onto his hand for as long as you could, looking back at him.

He looked so broken and scared, the tears were rolling down his cheek, his hair was a mess, his costume was ruined and covered in blood and dirt. You fought back the tears yourself, smiling the whole time. A smile that was meant to comfort him and encourage him, to tell him that everything is going to be okay. You stepped into the portal, finally letting go of his hand as the portal was no longer big enough for your hands to be through it. And he was gone. With the snap of a finger, he was gone. You dropped on your knees, finally allowing yourself to cry as the realization hit you, you had lost Peter Parker not once, but twice in the span of a year. 

---

You took off the glasses as you finally finished the spider-shaped gadget you were assembling. It was a new type of spider suit that you were developing in your free time. 

After you had to go back to your own reality, you decided to pay Peter’s grave a visit. You sat there for hours, telling him everything about your multiverse adventure with the other Peters. You were sure he was turning in his grave because of how cool this story was and how he didn’t get to be a part of it. Weeks passed by and it was time to move on with your normal life, but you just couldn’t. So, you decided to major in quantum physics and spent every waking hour on studying and theorizing about the multiverse. If magic could make interdimensional travel real, then sciency could too. And since your reality had a living Tony Stark, you actually caught his attention with some science work of yours that got published. You were so dedicated to your studies that in the few months you spent on your research, you managed to have a breakthrough big enough to change the course of the science field altogether. Your secret was that you actually did already travel into another dimension, you just had to figure out the math. 

Tony was so impressed by your work and your genius that he actually offered you a job. You accepted, he had enough resources to fund your projects and actually help you with opening up a portal. And now you were stuck in the Avengers compound, developing a new spider suit. You took one of the old unfinished suits your Peter had, doing the final work on it. The suit used inflatable technology and you had to put the metal spider in the center of your chest and press it, after that the suit would just wrap around your body perfectly. It was mostly made of fabric, but it had a bulletproof shield that would activate if the built-in ai detected any kind of danger. It was lightweight so that it wouldn’t stop Spider-man from his acrobatic moves or slow him down in any way. Once you were done with the suit, it was game on. Why were you developing a spider suit? To send to Peter. With all of the Stark money, you were actually able to build a device that theoretically could open portals to other dimensions. After a few calculations were made, you thought you found the exact coordinates to the dimension you wanted to see. Since experimenting with animals and humans was cruel in your mind, you were just going to open a portal, throw the spider suit in and pray that you got the right Peter. 

The device you developed looked like a bracelet. It was chunkier than you wanted it to but the parts were too big to make it look elegant. In reality it probably looked more like a smartwatch than a bracelet. You typed in the coordinates on the touchscreen and prayed that it would work. The device buzzed softly on your wrist, lasers coming out from the side and drew a circle next to you, opening a portal. You took a deep breath as you stared at the room that was in front of you. It was small, untidy, and looked nothing like Peter’s old room. Was that his dorm? Or his new apartment? Did you mix the coordinates up? There was no one there, just an empty room staring back at you. You looked around it, analyzing the scene in front. A pile of dirty clothes in the corner, flannels and sweaters. Looked like Peter’s style. A picture of May was on the desk, next to some bottles of web fluid. Bingo. It really looked like it was the place he was currently at. You took the metal spider that was sitting on the table and a sticky note. 

“I’ll make it back to you. Have fun with this gift, can’t wait to hear back from you :) - Y\N”

You stuck the note to the metal spider and tossed it on the desk next to his web fluids without touching the portal. The suit seemed to have made it through with no problems. Good. Amazing even. One step closer to seeing him.

----

Peter tossed his backpack on the bed as he walked into his room. He took the flannel off too, throwing himself face first and hiding his face in the pillow. He was tired, so tired, and alone. Deciding to go to uni didn’t seem like the brightest idea now that he was alone and broke. Working, studying and being Spider-man on top of that, was draining all of his energy. He turned his head to the side, looking at the mess on the desk as something shiny caught his eye. He lifted his upper body up, looking closer at the thing. It had a note stuck to it. Did someone break in? He walked over to the desk, reading the note.

“I’ll make it back to you. Have fun with this gift, can’t wait to hear back from you :) -Y\N”

Underneath the note was the Spider-man logo made out of metal. He looked closer at it, turning it around, feeling the weight of it in his hands. What was that? He was confused, so confused. How did you even manage to send this thing to him? He put it on his chest, looking at himself in the mirror. The thing stuck to his chest and started glowing on the sides. He looked at it, pressing it gently with his finger. The spider suit that you made wrapped perfectly around him in the matter of seconds. 

“Wooow.” he said as he looked at himself in the mirror. 

The ai immediately turned on. 

“Initiating “Welcome” protocol.” It spoke in his ear, playing a video on his built-in vr glasses. 

It was a video of you that played.  

“Hi Pete.” you said with a smile. 

“Omg, Hi! Hey, how? ”

“Before you start trying to have a conversation with me, this is a prerecorded video. I can’t hear you.”

“Right.”

“So, if you’re seeing this, that means that this thing worked!” you showed your wrist to the camera, letting him see the device on it. “This is an interdimensional portal opener. I’m still working on the name. It’s in early testing, I’m not sure it’s safe to go through the portals it creates yet, that’s why I sent this suit as a test. It has a turn-on system that is supposed to alert me when the suit is working. If I get the signal, I’ll try to open up a new portal so we can try to talk. I’ll see you soon.”

The video ended, leaving Peter speechless. He was so amazed that you managed to do all of this, to create this suit and send it through the multiverse to him. You weren’t joking when you said you would find a way. He had never felt more in love with you than he did at this moment.

“Okay, let’s check this baby out while we wait then.”

“Initiating “test” protocol.”

---

The device on your wrist started buzzing, making you look at it. The image of the spider-man logo appeared on the screen, which meant that the suit was turned on. When the screen finally loaded, you could see Peter’s stats on the screen. You could monitor his heartbeat, his blood oxygen, his blood pressure. Everything seemed normal. You hooked the device to your laptop, getting a better view of the statistics you were getting. You could even log into the camera and see what he was seeing in real time. So it worked. You could see him swinging around the city. 

“Oh Pete.” your vision getting blurry from the tears. You made it. Somehow you really managed to make it. 

You picked your phone up, dialing Tony. 

“It worked.” you sobbed as soon as you heard his voice on the other side. 

“I’ll be right there.” 

10 minutes later Tony walked in the lab, rushing to you. He looked at the screen, seeing that Peter was now sat on the edge of a tower, swinging his legs in the air. The two of you hugged in celebration. 

“Did you try contacting him?” 

“No, not yet, I think I’ll wait for him to get home.”

“Okay, but no sex on the first date!”

“I’m not going through the portal yet, I’m not sure it’s safe.”

“Good, have fun just talking.”

Not long after Tony left, Peter was back at his small messy apartment. You put in the coordinates again, waiting for him to turn the suit off before you opened the portal. 

You finally saw him, standing in the middle of his room with the metal spider in his hand. He looked a bit startled when the portal opened up, smiling as he saw you standing on the other side. He walked up closer. All he wanted was to hug you. 

“No, no, no, no, stop!” you said. He froze on the spot. “You can’t go through yet, I’m not sure it’s safe.”

“But… the suit?”

“The suit isn’t a living organism.”

“I’m willing to risk it.”

“I’m not. I’ll close the portal before you even try!”

“Okay then what is the point of opening it then?”

“I’m still running stability tests, here.” You tossed a second device for him. He caught it, looking at it before he put it on his wrist. “I’ll send the coordinates to my dimension in a few days to see if you can open a portal too.”

“Why not just test that now?”

“I said I’m still running tests Pete! Wait just a little longer!”

----

A few weeks later you were finally ready to actually go through the portal. You didn’t know if you should alert him first or just go for it and surprise him. The surprise sounded way better. You opened up a portal to his room. It was 2 pm, he wasn’t home yet. You went through the portal and closed it behind you, looking around his room. It was so odd to be there again, yet it made you so happy. You were smiling the whole time while you looked around. It felt a bit invasive, plus you hadn’t spoken to him the last few days, but you didn’t really have a plan here. You just wanted to be with him as soon as possible. You sat on the bed, checking the watch to see if he was using the suit. He wasn’t, which meant you had no way of tracking where he was or what he was doing. You didn’t really have to wait long, the door unlocked around 30 minutes later, a very tired Peter walking in the room. You smiled so wide it was actually hurting you. He tossed his backpack towards the bed, practically throwing it at you and knocking you back. Now it really did hurt, not only from the smiling. 

“Ouch.” you said. 

Peter finally looked at you, making  two big steps towards you and taking the backpack off.

“I’m so sorry.” 

You were laying on your back, looking at him. 

“Surprise?” you said, getting up on your elbows. 

He wasn’t really sure how to react to this, he wanted to hug you but laying on top of you was potentially going to crush you, so it wasn’t an option. He grabbed your hand and pulled you up on your feet, hugging you. It seemed like you weighed nothing to him, he did it so effortlessly. You hugged him back, trying to remember as much as you could from this moment. 

“I can’t believe you’re finally here.”

“Me neither, all it took of me was to become one of the most respected physicists in the world and joining the Avengers.” 

“I’m glad you did, I really am.”

You looked up at him, holding his face. 

“Did you grow? You seem taller.”

“I don’t think I did.”

“Doesn’t matter.” 

You got on your tiptoes and pulled him in, crashing your lips on his. He held your waist, pulling you closer. You opened your mouth, letting him slide his tongue in. You were running your hands all over his body, his chest, his arms, his back. He moved the two of you towards the bed, sitting down and pulling you on top of him. His hands moved to your but, squeezing it slightly.

“Maybe you should remind me about the first time this happened.” you mumbled against his lips.

He smiled, pressing a kiss on your forehead. 

“Oh, I’ll make sure you remember this one!”

[chaikachi]

Hey radical spicy hot take but Trapdoor is 100% a ruby song. And. Trapdoor is 100% a oscar song. They are a mirror to each other. They are put on the same pedestal. They bear the same weight. They occupy the same space, simultaneously, impossibly. Do you see my vision?

anono... how does it feel to have such a big brain. all songs are rg songs if you try hard enough. 😤

Yes, Trapdoor is first and foremost a Ruby song, but her and Oscar are 100% mirrors living such similar character arcs. I could talk about all those parallels in a post all their own (one day), but for now a really good example is actually comparing Trapdoor to Sky is Falling (thank you @greenteaandtattoos for pointing it out first).

I'm gonna ramble a bit

Trapdoor is a song about the weight Ruby has been carrying. How she has tried so hard and how it's seemingly done more harm than good. It talks about how she doesn't feel seen or heard or needed, let alone wanted. How she's losing herself. How she feels like a trapdoor, part of the floorboards being walked on and unnoticeable. How one more step is all it might take for her to break and fall further into the depths below. And simultaneously like a trap that will lead all her friends to ruin.

And Sky is Falling (in my opinion) is a song about the weight Oscar has been carrying. How he's struggling with moving forward in light of everything he's been through and everything they've lost. The song itself is cited as referencing the original Henny Penny (aka Chicken Little) fairytale since it's a story that uses the song's title as a cry wolf for fearing the end of the world. But that feels a bit like a red herring to me. Or at least not like the whole picture.

The original myth of Atlas and the weight of the world isn't actually about the god holding the world on his shoulders. It's about him holding up the sky. So whether you read it as Oscar struggling with what to do given Atlas is falling... or struggling with how to move after Ruby falls, (Ruby, who was holding Atlas on her shoulders. So when she fell, so to did the city in the sky) is up to interpretation.

Some examples of how the songs mirror each other a bit tho:

Trapdoor

Though I try to keep the hope alive

Sky is Falling

Lost all my hopes and dreams

Trapdoor

Watch it all Unfold As I Cascade below Frozen In the darkest moment I can't bear the weight I hold

Sky is Falling

Starin' at the casket, hopin' to move past it Knowin' things will never be the same, and that's it Cold soaked as I'm standin' in rain Feelin' nothin' but pain until I see you again

Both of them struggling to hold onto hope. Both of them struggling with the cold of grief. The water imagery in "cascading" and "rain". The feeling of drowning. How to keep moving in the face of it all.

Also just on the topic of them being mirrors, it's interesting how many of these songs can so easily link back together. Trust Love's "open up your eyes" to Sky is Falling's "cover up your eyes". Then Sky is Falling's direct parallel, Touch the Sky. In my opinion, this song talks about both of them. The first verse is very Oscar "Little Prince" Pine, but especially this part:

I'm soarin' like I never have before Flying self-assured and free And I somehow feel I finally feel like me I looked in the mirror and I gotta say It's been a long, long time since I felt this way Right now, I'm just a bit surprised 'Cause I feel just fine and I might just touch the sky

And then directly towards Ruby's ascension in the second verse:

Open doors and so much hope in front of me Full of confidence, every challenge crushed My heart's electric, racing endlessly Feeling like the stars have all aligned Illuminate the darkness that was blinding me Now I'm positive that it's my time to shineI will explode, you'll see me rise You may not even recognize I just can't wait for this reveal

But also... very strong argument can be made that both verses apply to both of them. Finally feeling like themselves, the people they've wanted to be, the ones they're meant to be. These kids and their identity issues... But especially cause, um, Ruby isn't the only one that explodes.

So to summarize, Oscar looked in the mirror - not the mirror that showed Oz's reflection, but the mirror he sees in Ruby - and he became more like himself. Influenced by the hope she inspires.

And Ruby, like Alice, fell through the looking glass. But in the Ever After the only Oscar that was there to stare back at her wasn't a reflection of hope, it was was one of fear.

So she had no choice but to fall further and looked inward. Until she found the hope that was always inside her. The hope Oscar always knew was there because he sees her.

And the fact that Ruby's hope, her motivation, has always been "the people she hasn't lost yet". And how Oscar is the only living companion Neo 'kills' to hurt her. I'm getting so off track here but...

The Parallels. It's CINEMA.

They make me UNWELL.

Edit: I ended up just talking a bit about how they're mirrors through song and not so much Trapdoor from an Oscar lens. It is so strongly a Ruby song to me that it's hard to apply to him, even if it does fit him in some ways as well. All alone in crowded rooms and all that.

[callmearcturus]

I find the idea of Benji having like 20 exgirlfriends, boyfriends, and personfriends; while Ethan has dated like 3 people in his entire life, to be hilarious, and now I'm going to integrate it into my headcanons for both of them.

I MEAN I tend to think that before the Prague Job, Ethan was an ethical slut, and it's implied he's having a threesome with Jack and Sarah. (I mean, I literally do not know how else to interpret that line, I have put on my Straight Person Goggles and that line does not make sense unless they are all three dating.) He's flirty and openly teases people.

Then the Prague Job goes fuckways, and Ethan's entire demeanor feels like a very sharp object that neither he nor anyone else knows how to handle. He def fucked Max in the back of that car (I feel like this is even implied by her later dialogue). But its not friendly and fun anymore, it's sharp and dangerous and almost his barricade Ethan is using for his own protection.

AND THEN THERE IS CLAIRE. Claire is trying her best to manipulate the shit out of Ethan, to keep his attention on her and her 'mourning' of Jim rather than the fact Jim is alive and both of them are toying with Ethan.

That extended sequence where Ethan and Jim are talking about "what happened in Prague" intercut with Ethan figuring out what actually happened in Prague-- there's a moment when Ethan pegs Claire as having killed some of the team, but he changes his mind and casts Jim in the role instead because... he doesn't want Claire to be part of this.

TAKE ALL THAT and marry it to the fact that Claire keeps initiating touch with Ethan, tries to get him to comfort her-- that scene with her sleeping on the floor and taking his hand to kiss it is tremendously fucked up.

(I once listened to a podcast that mentioned claire was kind of ethan's love interest and like WOW no. nope. that's not what's happening even a little.)

oh my god i'm rambling but WHAT I AM SAYING is that Ethan has immense trauma that is fueled by sexual manipulation and it honestly feels like it. Twink Ethan as an ethical slut had fun and didn't have to worry about this shit and was all about fair play. Then he has a brief stint as a bad boy that goes badly because robert towne can't write a movie. Then the next we see him he's GETTING MARRIED and leaving the game.

This post is already too long so lets continue. MI3 is fascinating because it's the one I hate the most but Julia and Ethan are tremendous, and the work put into humanizing him is amazing. He's enjoying playing as a doting husband (and 'playing' is inaccurate, he's not lying) and it actively trying to carve himself out of the IMF while multiple people (INCLUDING HIS BEST FRIEND LUTHER) undermine him.

But he still tries, and he leaves, and he's out.

And it all goes to shit. Which is this tremendous tragedy of Ethan Hunt frankly. He put in the work and-- you know the phrase "he's got skin in the game"? Well Ethan had a lot of skin in the game and he let it flay him on his way out just for a chance to actually be out.

GP Ethan is a wildly changed man, but in a way that honestly makes perfect sense to me. The trajectory of his character by design or by accident is an easily tracked arc. (I think McQuarrie gets me on this, or I get him, either or.)

After GP, there is simultaneously an emotional honesty to Ethan... but there's a physical distance. He's older, he's wiser, he's tired, and he's not dragging Benji or Ilsa into a pharmacy closet to have sex. That's not him anymore. But also, there is more raw emotion to everything he does. He feels like he's always on the back foot.

(He comes across as incredibly asexual to me honestly.)

Compared Twink Ethan flirting his way through MI1 to Fallout Ethan getting kissed by the White Widow and having ZERO reaction.

/clutches Ethan to my chest. i love this tired old man.

MEANWHILE: Benji is hot and has a hot bossy streak and has amazing fashion sense. He can get it, he just can't keep it because when Ethan has a job, so does Benji, sooooo yep. lmao.

[pikapeppa]

Year-End Writer's Round-Up: 2023

It’s that time of year, writer friends — time to take stock of what we’ve been up to this year! Tagging to literally ANY AND ALL WRITERS who would like to participate, but I’ll throw down some tags from the top of my head: @contrivedchaos @jadefyre @kittynomsdeplume @iamcayc @hollyand-writes @elveny @johaerys-writes @crackinglamb @mogwaei @alyssalenko @about2dance @cthu-boo @chloefraazers @fogsblue @lordofthenerds97, join in if you fancy!! If you're not a smut writer, feel free to leave out those stats, and feel free to add any accomplishments and "metrics" that are significant to you! 🥰

(Blank template at the bottom for convenience!)

Words written (published or not, WIPs totally count too!!): 999 496 — ARGH IT WAS SO CLOSE TO A COOL MILLION. I did this calculation on the evening of Dec 31 and I was like DAMMIT I NEED TO WRITE A DRABBLE LMAO. 😂🙈 Honestly, I’m surprised the word count was so high this year — I could have sworn my word count had dropped because I wrote very little for a few weeks after BG3 first came out LMAO!

Smut scenes: 42 — I've done better LOL. I’ll blame the slow-burn BG3 ships I’m working on currently. 😂

New things I tried:

I started dabbling in M/M smut this year, in the context of my beloved Horizon F/M/M polycules (Aloy/Drakka with either Kotallo or Nil). Usually when I write F/M/M threesomes, the focus is on the men pleasing the lucky lady of the group, but I headcanon Drakka in particular as being very unapologetically bi, so it’s only fair and right that he get some sweet M/M action. I’m looking forward to putting this M/M practice use on Halsin/Tav/Astarion when my BG3 writing finally gets to that point! 

This was also the first time that I wrote an AU where I gleefully yeeted the canon deaths LMAO. I’m usually a stickler for adhering to significant plot points including character deaths, but the dastardly and darling @iamcayc nudged me into writing Here Come the Dreams, where Varl and Fashav both get to live, and it was a total delight to keep those darling men alive and happy. 

I wrote a smut scene in first-person POV for the first time, using the adorable voice of Karlach from BG3. This was a particularly interesting challenge because I feel that the first-person voice calls for a more urgent in-the-moment kind of narration, which means that I had to alter my usual way of writing smut in terms of phrasing/wording and pacing, so it was a fun challenge! 

With Astarion/Tav/Halsin, this is my first time writing an OC who falls in love simultaneously with two people, and it’s been… interesting trying to negotiate the polycule coming together. Of course I had to get enamoured with (arguably) the two most emotionally complicated male LIs in BG3 and make my own life difficult, LMAO. I’ve been struggling a little with bringing the relationships together and it’s been slowing my writing down over the past month or two, but I’m trucking on because I love both Halsin and Astarion and I really do believe in the dynamics of the OT3. SILVANUS GUIDE MY HAND AS I FIGURE THIS SHIT OUT.

Fic I spent the most time on: 

Even The Hardiest Desert Blooms! I really sank my focus into my beloved Desert boy this year and wrapped up his fic, which is always a bittersweet feeling when you adore the pairing. 😭

Fic I spent the least time on:

Burning Blue (Karlach/Dammon). I was bitten by a sudden bug of adoration for them, and that piece basically came together in a day and a half because I was on fire to get it out. I LOVE THIS PAIRING SO MUCH. 😭🔥

Favourite thing I wrote: 

Even The Hardiest Desert Blooms has always been my self-indulgent pleasure because I just love Drakka to the moon and back, so focusing a lot of this year on his fic was a treat. But Here Come the Dreams was also an enormously fun project because I just went ham and hyperfocused on it for a month and a half. I really wanted to see if I could finish it in a month just for shits and giggles, but AS ALWAYS it ended up being longer than anticipated so I didn’t meet that goal, but it was still a total ball to come up with a fun little project and finish it as quickly as possible. 

Favourite thing I read: 

Hands-down, without a doubt, What’s A Sex Tape Between Friends?  by @auntie-coagulant. I don’t read much fanfic, and when I do, it's only for the ships that I don't write. So when I saw this fic recommended in the Kotallo server and I was like “Travis/Lis?? You have my attention.” My eyes were popping and I was HOWLING by the first chapter, and I’ve been dead in the water for this fic ever since and procrastinating on finishing the fic because MY EMOTIONS ARE NOT READY FOR THE HEARTBREAK.

Writing goals for next year: 

Finish Coming In Like A Western Wind. I’ve been sleeping on this fic since September because Astarion and Halsin turned my head and I feel really bad about it… but I do mean to finish it! 

Just keep on keeping on with my BG3 fics for Astarion and Halsin! I’ve been DYING to write smut for Halsin for months, and I have images living rent-free in my head of Astarion enjoying some very tender sensate focus, so let’s hope I get around to writing these scenes before I explode. 

**************

Template time!

Words written (published or not, WIPs totally count too!)

Smut scenes written (if applicable)

New things I tried

Fic I spent the most time on

Fic I spent the least time on

Favourite thing I wrote

Favourite thing I read

Writing goals for next year

Enjoy, friends!!! And cheers to another fulfilling year of writing! 🥰🥂

-- love from your friendly neighbourhood Pika! xoxo

[jamesunderwater]

Limited Vocabulary

based on the @jilymicrofics prompt, urge. word count: 2,625. NSFW.

They’d been lucky to make it out in one piece—though one could argue that James was hardly in one piece, exactly, with a deep gash through his forearm and cuts from debris peppering his face. Lily had been on the other side of the pub, battling with two masked death eaters simultaneously, heart pounding, desperately trying not to think about James on the other side of the building. Last she’d seen, he was fighting off an attack from both sides, but was managing very well considering. If he hadn’t been such a talented spellcaster Lily would have been more worried, but she’d been in enough battles with him to know that James could hold his own against two opponents with fairly little effort. She, on the other hand, gifted as she was, didn’t excel nearly as well at dueling, and needed to keep her mind on the present moment in order to not be blasted across the room…or worse. Every time they were in a battle it was clear that their adversaries were much more interested in ending her life than they were anyone else’s, especially if her partner was a pureblood. This fact had resulted in many fights between her and her friends, especially James, Sirius, and Marlene, all of whom felt it was their responsibility to focus on defending her in a fight. She’d finally convinced them to focus on their own battles by emphasizing that if they died for her benefit, she’d never forgive them. And they were all much more likely to make it out alive if they kept focused on their own fight.

Which is why she’d been being a hypocrite as she worried over James in the middle of sending a hex toward one of her assailants, meanwhile ducking a spell from the other. She’d just begun to gain some focus back when a loud crash echoed across the room, and in the moment she turned to see what had happened, a spell from one of her opponents flew past her head, missing her by inches. She didn’t care—across the room from her lay James, crumpled just beyond a large pile of rubble. She darted to him, ducking spells while throwing her own, aware that it was now four against one, aware that she was probably moments away from both of their deaths. When she made it to James’s side, a brief thought crossed her mind that the fates must have some stake in keeping them alive. In the next breath, she was apparating them to the safe house they’d been assigned in case of emergency, which had already been protected by wards to keep them from being followed. 

James was still unconscious when they appeared on the floor of the dark living room. Lily felt his chest for a heartbeat, the rise and fall of it assuring her enough to take a breath. She lit the sconces in the room with a flick of her wand, ignited the fireplace beside them with another, and then got to work. She’d been apprenticing as a healer for nearly a year when the war took a turn for the worse, and it was no longer safe for her to be out in public. But in that time she’d learned enough to be one of the most useful members of the Order, at least when it came to tending the wounded. By the time James awoke, she’d fully healed the cuts on his face, and his arm was tightly wrapped. It would be sore for a day or two, but would mend fine. 

“What…?” He looked around, groggy, until his eyes landed on hers in the firelight. “Are you alright?” His voice pitched up in worry, and James sat up against the cushions of the couch, placing an arm on hers. 

She laughed at him, her throat suddenly tight. “I’m fine, obviously—I’m the one sitting up, aren’t I?”

He didn’t seem to find this funny, only breathing out a sigh of relief. He looked around the room, taking in that they were safe now. “You got us out?”

She nodded, and swallowed hard as he stared at her. She’d never gotten used to the way he looked at her, with such admiration, with such love and tenderness. They’d been through so much together now, and yet nothing had happened beyond those looks. She never fully understood why, except that the war kept everyone so scared that the idea of letting oneself feel anything hopeful and good felt unnatural, or somehow unkind to those who they’d lost. Marlene had told her that she deserved happiness even in the darkness, that they all did, but somehow reaching for it felt impossible, scarier than being in battle against multiple death eaters. She could hardly stand to lose the love she already had—the idea of having anymore, and risking losing it too…it didn’t feel like a bridge she was ready to cross.

Read the rest on AO3.

[hannibals-favourite-meal]

God Rest Ye Merry Gentlemen

Dean Winchester x plus size reader x Sam Winchester

A close call makes the boys realise that they need to enjoy the little things.

Warnings: injuries, blood, frostbite, concussions, hunt gone wrong but no death, NO WINCEST, implied polyamorous relationship, angst

WC: 1.2k

Square Filled: Christmas light tour @spnchristmasbingo

Minors DNI

SPN Christmas Bingo

Hunting was exhausting. It was dirty and gross and both physically and mentally taxing. But there was something about December and the holidays that made monsters act up even more than other times of the year. Cas had once said it had to do with the winter solstice but you thought that was a load of crap. Monsters were just being monsters and the only reason they went nuts at this time of year was because they knew hunters would be slacking off due to the cold and the early sunsets.

Sam and Dean practically carried you into the shitty motel room they had found for this hunt. You were bleeding and probably concussed with a hint of frostbite on the tips of your fingers and toes. Your head rolled as you were placed on the couch, the ancient springs beneath you groaning with your weight.

The brothers had a wordless conversation, their eyes meeting over you as Dean held you up, one of his large hands planted on your sternum, the other gripping the back of your neck. Sam quickly scurried away, heading straight for the incredibly stocked first aid kit you kept in your bag.

“C’mon sweetheart, keep those pretty eyes open for me.” Dean pleaded, his voice strained with emotion. It was too close of a call for him.

“Yer the one with purty eyesss.” Your words were slurred, a sure sign that you were about to pass out. Sam’s hands trembled as he ripped open the pack, gathering up all of the bandages he could and grabbing a bottle of whiskey they had been keeping as a celebratory drink for the end of the hunt. He ended heavily on his knees in front of you.

“I need to take your shirt off, is that ok?” You slumped forward and your forehead collided with the younger brother’s but you did not flinch, your body having gone numb long ago.

“You tryin ta get in ma pantssss? Cause that’s a yes from me.” You giggled, trying to reach for him but a strong arm moved to wrap around your chest, pulling you backwards. Dean’s lips fit against your ear, whispering soothing words that you couldn’t quite comprehend before turning to his brother.

“Just cut it off her, we need to stop the bleeding.” Swallowing hard, Sam nodded. The plaid was quickly sliced away, exposing your soft stomach to them. They simultaneously sucked in a breath, it was bad, really really bad.

As Sam worked, desperately trying to stop the bleeding and disinfect the wound with the expensive alcohol, your face fit itself into Dean’s neck, whining into his skin with each stitch. He held you as close as he could, wanting to take your pain away but knowing he wasn’t able to.

He hummed softly, his own eyes squeezed shut, not able to stand seeing you being slowly pulled back together. He blamed himself, he was the one that lost sight of you for a second, allowing for the shifter to grab you and inflict pretty severe damage. Dean would never forget that feeling of the monster that took your face telling him all of your deepest and darkest secrets as it taunted them, saying you were already dead, bleeding out in the snow.

His calloused fingers fit against the curve of your neck. He could feel the thready beat of your heart, but it was enough for now. You were alive and safe in his arms.

Sam felt like he couldn’t breathe, he literally held your life in his hands. Logically, he knew his hand was more steady than his brother’s, his stitches straighter but he wanted to throw the needle and thread towards Dean and comfort you instead. 

His heart had stopped when the shifter emerged from the shadows. Everything about the visage was perfect but he knew it wasn’t you. It could never have the same softness of your eyes, your playfulness even in the most dire of circumstances. Dean froze but he didn’t. He let the rage consume him, already mourning your life.

But then, they found you; half-conscious and pale from the blood loss, yet you were alive. The squeeze of pain and anger around his heart had lessened as he held you close in the back of the Impala, keeping your head up and against his collarbone as your soft body fit between his muscular legs.

Your breaths were getting deeper as you went limp in Dean’s arms. They let you fall asleep, knowing you were mostly out of danger. Sam tied off the last stitch and wrapped it in bandages, pulling the torn edges of the plaid back over your exposed skin before he breathed a sigh of relief.

“That was too close.” He remained kneeled between your legs, hands unconsciously squeezing your knees as he usually did when he was anxious. Dean couldn’t meet his gaze and he knew he was blaming himself for what happened.

“I thought she-“ Dead. He couldn’t say it because saying it would make it real. Sam slumped forward, his head falling onto your plump thighs.

“We need a vacation.”

——————

Your head throbbed painfully like your skull was too small to fit your brain. You groaned, your arms flailing as you attempted to gain some type of awareness of your surroundings. Soft blankets engulfed you, keeping you in a cocoon of warmth. 

You licked your cracked lips as you attempted to remember what happened before you fell asleep. There was a hunt, as per usual, you got separated from Dean because of a stupid hidden revolving door and then, blackness. 

Your eyebrows scrunched in concentration as you tried to remember anything else. But the gentle vibration underneath you and the soft rock from the radio was quickly lulling you back to sleep. “Hey beautiful, glad to see you’re finally awake.” With a great deal of effort, you forced your eyes open.

Sam was leaning over the back of the front seat, looking visibly shaken. You noticed how his hands had been cleaned raw, the skin inflamed and red. “Who died?” You tried to break the tension with a joke but the way that Dean’s shoulders tensed and Sam’s gaze dropped to the floor told you everything you needed to know. Swallowing, you spoke again. “How close was it?”

“Too close.” Dean didn’t even bother to look at you. Sam glanced at his brother before turning back to you.

“Don’t run off like that again.” He almost cooed, reaching down to cup your jaw. You nodded into his hand, your head suddenly getting heavy. “Stay awake just a bit longer for me, we need to get some food in you before we can give you any more meds.”

“I need more motivation than food to stay awake.” 

“How about Christmas lights?” Dean finally looked back at you, a sad smile on his lips before he gestured for you to look out the window. With Sam’s help, you sat up against the leather seats, a blanket quickly wrapped around your torso before you were able to get cold, and looked outside.

Houses surrounded you, each one bigger than the last, with perfect lawns and pristine gardens, even beneath all the snow. Lights were everywhere, intricately braided together to create colourful patterns that lit up the whole street. Dean drove slowly down the way, letting you take in every bulb and every lawn ornament. 

“Wow.” Your breath fogged up the window, briefly obscuring your view but your focus remained on the incredible decorations. “You were right Dean, this was good motivation.” You didn’t see it but the brothers glanced at each other, making a silent vow.

Never again.

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