#i uh...don't really have a snippet for this one since it's just...what's in the fic

[corishadowfang]

xehanort kintsugi story 👀👀👀?

-moonluringfrost

(For this)

Haha, so this is actually the main document for Fool's Gold, it just...never got officially renamed at any point. (Break Your Heart Like Glass is actually similar; it remaned 'Baldr story' in my documents until I actually posted it.) Basically, I knew I wanted to do a story in the series from Xehanort's perspective, and there was a lot of interesting stuff about him (his relationship with the Player, his "memories" of the Union Leaders, his connection to Ephemer...) that I wanted to kind of explore. This was basically my opportunity to do that!

(It was surprisingly easy to write, which was...kind of a relief after how hard it was to write Fill the Cracks with Gold, aha.)

[totallynottinsel]

A very chill Bilbo being carried EVERYWHERE - @lilylolipp0ps

he's just a chill guy yk

This one is pretty short unfortunately 😭 more of a headcanon snippet than a fic but here it is!

Update: 100+ NOTES?? hwosydgeudjeuxge what

"Oh, for---ack!" Bilbo's face meant the dirt in an unfortunate tumble over a rock, the third one he'd tripped over that night---mostly because he couldn't bloody see a thing with all the trees blocking what little moon light they had. They had been walking for hours, and he was certainly starting to feel his legs grow weary. "Blasted rocks," He mumbled, spitting out the debris that stuck to his face as he pushed himself upward, dusting off his coat. Suddenly he felt a sting in his knee, and from what he could see and feel, he'd gone and nagged his skin, which was no help at all. He was getting very tired of this.

Pt. 2 here

"Are you alright?" Thorin approached him while the rest of the company scurred around, placing a hand on his shoulder. Bilbo was still getting used to him being so friendly after their time on the carrock---so an immediate 'just get up you fool' or something along those lines from the dwarf was very refreshing.

"Hm? Oh, yes, I... I just fell, again. I think I cut my leg up a bit, but I'm---" He winced as he took a step, his leg almost buckling under the pressure. "Ooh, yes, fine, I've got it." He was in fact not, but he'd just gained Thorin's respect and wasn't about to come off as a burden again.

"You look exhausted, you're not 'fine'." Thorin helped steady him, noticing the heaviness of his eyes. "Come on, we're almost to a place where we can make camp. I'll carry you there."

"Really, I can mana---you'll what?"

"Carry you."

Now that was unexpected. "Are---are you sure? I'm half your size! Not that I don't think you're capable, your very---er," He gestured to the dwarf's upper body. "Well built. But I'll make it, I just have to rest a moment. Why don't you all go ahead,"

"I'm not going to leave you behind." Thorin crossed his arms, clearly not going to budge in his decision. "I won't drop you, if that's what you're worried about."

"Hm, right." Bilbo found that hard to believe, but his knee and his tiredness won over his suspicions fairly quick. "Well, uh... go ahead, I suppose? Or I could---" In that moment he was swept off his feet in a blink, his arms scrambling for purchase over the dwarf's shoulders and around his neck. "A warning would be nice!"

"Comfortable?"

Bilbo nodded, though he really didn't loosen up until a few minutes in when he was certain he wouldn't be meeting the ground again. It felt silly, he hadn't been carried by anyone since he was under ten! But odd as it may seem to the onlookers---mostly Fili and Kili who were giggling up a storm---he had to admit it was nice. Surely better than walking and straining himself further. With each heavy step his eyes drooped down, and eventually he drifted off, teetering his head to rest on Thorin's shoulder, who wasn't opposed to it.

When they reached their designated makeshift camp for the rest of the night, Thorin did his best to lay Bilbo down on the best semi-undisturbed patch of grass he could find, careful not to wake him. Successful in his attempts, he forwent his coat to drape it over him. He was just about to call it a night when he caught a glimpse of Dwalin giving him a funny look that spoke enough for itself. "What?"

"Nothin'. Nothin' at all." The other dwarf shook his head, grinning, then took his leave.

Thorin was sure that wouldn't be the last of it.

When he was certain Thorin was out of range Bilbo peaked over his shoulder, seeming to have convinced the dwarf he genuinely had fallen asleep. Which---that was half true, as he did drift off for a minute, but mostly just enjoyed being cared for by Thorin. Which was a totally normal thing for good friends to do for each other, nothing else to it.

Bilbo clutched the coat closer to him, feeling its used softness and warmth and ever familiar scent that was distinctly its owners. Seconds after he realized what he was doing and smacked a hand to his face; Thorin was just being nice! He was reading too much into it and quite frankly getting a bit too comfortable. He forced himself to close his eyes and try to focus on something else other than... well, Thorin in general. The fact Óin came to his aid to bandage his leg up certainly helped.

When morning came he went onward---though still quite sore---with the dwarf's coat bunched up in his arms in search of him to return it. He was fairly easy to find, off by some tree re-braiding some hair that has gotten knotted. "Er, good morning. I... yours." He pushed the coat towards him. "Thank you, I mean. For last night."

Thorin smiled, taking the coat back. "Of course, I'm here whenever you may need me."

"Oh, well, I might just take you up on that."

"Having me carry you places, or something else?" Thorin quirked a brow his way from behind his curtain of locks.

"Uh, that's... a fantastic question. Actually, I really should be going, lots of... bugs to get out of my shoes!" Bilbo started to back away, scratching behind his neck.

Thorin blinked at him before looking down at his feet, stating the obvious.

"Ah... good morning." Bilbo fled the scene as awkwardly as he possibly could have and just about wanted a tree to fall on top of him so he didn't have to face Thorin Oakenshield's questionable and annoyingly hard to read actions ever again. Much to his delight, they didn't discuss the previous night or after at all, as they had quite a full day running from Azog's reach. Though that did not stop the occasional glances or stares from happening, surely confirming they both hadn't stopped thinking of it.

[the-amber-raven]

Snippet Sunday

I don't usually post snippets for fics that I'm already in the process of posting, but I'm aware it's been an age since I updated it feels like home to me (writing has been a struggle but it's coming this week, I promise - most likely on Tuesday) so I thought I might as well post a fun fire-fam snippet from the wedding in this story!

--

“Oh, no, please do feel free to spill, baby brother,” Maddie said. “I want to hear all about the pigtails that were pulled to make this happen.” 

“There were no pigtails,” Evan groused. 

“Uh, excuse me,” Eddie said, raising his hand to interrupt. “But as the person who almost ended up with a broken ankle for the high crime of having Tommy’s attention, I beg to differ about the lack of pigtails.” 

“What?!” Hen asked, looking torn between concern and delight.

“You realise you just called yourself a pigtail?” Evan sniped at Eddie, pouting at him. 

“Wait,” Nash said, frowning, his brows furrowed.

Tommy froze, willing his brain to come up with something to distract Nash away from the conclusion he was inevitably drawing, wanting to spare Evan from being on the receiving end of his captain’s wrath on his birthday. While Nash was never anywhere near as harsh as Gerrard, Tommy knew that he was no slouch in the discipline department. 

He was somewhat surprised that Eddie had even brought this incident up in front of him but Tommy knew that he was also operating on very little sleep (he’d gotten some hilarious messages and videos from the failed bachelor party) so he likely hadn’t thought the comment through. 

“That was how you injured your ankle and had to call out of work for a week?” Taking the silence as confirmation, Nash sighed exasperatedly and turned to give Evan a disappointed look. “Buck.” 

“I ended up going over to Evan’s house and kissing him,” Tommy blurted out, flushing when all the attention immediately diverted to him.

“Really?” Eddie said, staring at him. "That was how it happened?"

“So, what, he opened the door and you just laid one on him?” Karen asked, confused. 

“No, we were inside,” Tommy corrected. “And we spoke about – things –” 

“Buck going Full Buck and maiming Eddie because he couldn’t just ask to go to a basketball game,” Chimney supplied helpfully. 

“I asked you,” Evan retorted. 

“Kid, do you remember the conversations we’ve had about talking to the wom – the people you’re dating?” Nash asked. To Tommy’s surprise, he didn’t look upset – more resignedly amused. “You realise that applies to the w – people you want to date as well.”

“See, it’s not my fault that you didn’t make that clear,” Evan said, slinging an arm around Nash’s shoulders and giving him an innocent smile. 

[morganas-pendragons]

Where Are You? Pt II | Celebrimbor

There's a reason I chose this GIF. Otherwise, enjoy part II of my three-part fic covering the end of S2! I don't have very many Celebrimbor fics left I desire to post here. Much of my work now will go into starting the OC fic for him.

This got away from me. There might be a fourth part. We'll see!

Also, for reference, the name you see later in the fic is not character specific, but the name translate as protector/defender

- Part One

tag: @astralarchives @mathildahilda2

***

For someone who has been well practiced in the art of peace since your arrival to Eregion, the simmering desire for fury and vengeance is all too consuming.

Your scream cannot be heard over the roar of the siege as you lunge at Annatar.

He has taken too much from Eregion.

And you will not let him take Celebrimbor.

Sauron's taunts and continued jeering about your devotion to Celebrimbor only further add fuel to your fire. He is infuriated that you are the only Elf in Eregion who has not fallen victim to his machinations. He is infuriated that you have only grown in power since he arrived, snippets of your memories and magic gradually coming back as the need for Celebrimbor's protection becomes more dire.

"You really have led yourself to believe that you are Celebrimbor's salvation," Annatar remarks cooly, wiping at his cheek to watch as black drips between his fingers. It is impressive that you have managed to craft a blade powerful enough to wound a Maiar. "And I am here to remind you that you as his weakness will be the Great Smith's destruction."

"And I'm here to tell you, Mairon-" You barely see it, but he flinches almost imperceptibly at the use of his real name. It is another indication that you are not who you say you are. Who are you? "That you will get nothing!"

It is merely unfortunate that Annatar happens to have a stronger depth of understanding of his magic as well as more experience - given that you have gaps in your memory and time missing - because before you can truly realize what he's doing, the blonde Elf has you thrown through the air just as a nearby explosion sends debris flying toward you.

You collapse against the double doors of the Forge tower, coughing as ash enters your lungs and blood drips from your nose.

"I believe it is time for you to reunite with your lost love."

His fingers, unrelenting and cruel, wind through your hair and begin to drag you up the stairs.

***

You have been distant. Distant and cold, only allowing Celebrimbor to come to you when he has made progress on the Nine Rings. There have been suspicions over the last several weeks whether or not it was truly you, the one his soul loves, especially as you have not built your relationship this far based on transaction.

Celebrimbor begins to become truly lost when you will no longer love him the way you have. When your kisses no longer bring comfort, when your touch makes his skin crawl, when everything he has ever come to love begins to crumble between his fingers.

That doesn't account for the mouse that continues to reappear, or the gem missing in Fëanor's hammer. Everything feels wrong. He feels wrong.

It only serves to worsen the ache in his heart when Annatar reappears.

"Have you fallen? Come. The floor is hardly the place for the greatest of Elven smiths."

Celebrimbor cannot see you, not the real you, because Annatar has determined you are not to be seen until he is ready for it.

"No, I-uh.... Fëanor's hammer is missing a-" He pauses, brow furrowing in confusion as the gem he thought to have fallen out of the hammer reappears in its appropriate spot. The act serves to make Celebrimbor feel only more out of place, the haze that has clouded his brain for weeks thickening. He only feels as if he continues to grow more mad in this place.

"You know how forgetful you can be. I trust you are not feeling overwhelmed again."

You are forced to watch the endeavor, hidden from sight with Annatar's grasp on you like that of a viper suffocating its prey. He's restrained you with some magical inhibiting cuffs that cut you off from what power grows within you, and now he only serves to use you as a tool against the Elf you love.

"No... quite the opposite in fact," Celebrimbor said. "These past weeks I have felt such clarity. A focus that I have not known in years. I have you to thank for that. When the world is still then the ideas can flow freely."

Your eyes fall on the holly pin he still has tucked into his robes. Good. At least that can keep him safe.

"How fares your progress?" Annatar asks.

"The Rings of Power are nearly complete."

Dread settles heavily in your stomach as you grit your teeth, desperately trying to fight against Sauron's hold on you. Celebrimbor has fallen victim to the pride that brought him here. To Sauron's manipulations. Can he even perceive that his city is going to fall? Why does the sunlight cast such warmth through the windows when Eregion is bound by shadow?

"It will be a sad occasion. I have so enjoyed our time together."

Time you stole from me.

You dare not listen to the rest of their conversation. It is the first time you have properly glimpsed Celebrimbor in days and your heart swells at the sight of him. The curls that have fallen in his face, the earnestness and pride in his eyes at having been able to make something so... beautiful.

I love you. Please do not forget me. I still fight for you yet.

Before he can fully leave to return to the outdoors, Annatar presses you against the wall just out of Celebrimbor's sight and bends his head to whisper low in your ear, "Watch as he breaks, for your helplessness to save him will be your punishment."

You fold against the wall by the base of the stairs as he departs, leaving you and Celebimrbor alone. He cannot see you. He cannot hear you.

"Hello, my love."

You slowly turn around at the familiar voice and find that it is you -your face, your voice, your being - sauntering across the Forge to meet Celebrimbor at his desk. You watch your own fingers graze the curve of his jaw as you tip your head down to kiss him. He is ever willing, desperate for a semblance of comfort in such a cold and isolating environment.

That is what has kept him complacent. Sauron has used you against Celebrimbor.

Hatred flashes behind your eyes.

You have to get out of these cuffs.

***

You watch as he chews his thumb bloody, eyes cast on the same spot where the mouse has been running back and forth in a cycle all morning. Your breathing stutters when Annatar reenters the forge and strides up the stairs to meet him.

You, the other you, left some minutes ago when Celebrimbor refused your offer of pleasure in exchange for completing the Rings faster. You could see the way it broke his heart when you walked away. That you, one who was so willing to give him the world, would not even give him your love without getting something in return.

Oh, my love.... I'm sorry.

"The Rings, are they finished?"

"Sh... wait for it."

Celebrimbor shushed the Elf as he motioned to the mouse skittering across the floor. Your eyes widened as you stood to your feet, shaky legs slowly attempting to move up the stairs.

"Captivating," Sauron replied sarcastically.

"Do you not see?" Celebrimbor questioned. "It is a pattern. A cycle. Even my star, one who has been by my side for so long and yet has barely graced me with her presence, only comes in here at the same time every few hours to rush my progress. And look, here. The embers-"

"Celebrimbor, whatever has inspired this epiphany, I assure you we have not the time for it-"

Annatar twists his fingers at the last second, causing you to gasp out as you sink to your knees. More blood drips from your nose and onto the stone between your legs. Your outfit is torn, your skin bruised, and yet the fury that lingers within will be enough to vanquish him from both of your lives forever. Even if it kills you.

"On the contrary!" Celebrimbor exclaims. "We would appear to have all of the time that we need. The candles have not burned an inch all day. My beloved's holly skin marking is not there, and she was born with it."

Your heart stops. Sauron would not have known that detail.

"You sought peace." Sauron remarks. "I gave it to you."

"No. Whatever this is... this is hardly a gift." His voice falls to a whisper, questioning and desperate for the truth. "What have you done to me? What have you done to her?"

There is a flicker there just then, barely within your grasp. It is a memory you cannot truly forget. Your entire purpose in coming to Middle Earth is to be the architect of healing and protection for those would cannot do it for themselves.

Realization dawns on you.

It's not just for all of them. It's for him.

"Done to you?" Annatar asks incredulously. "You welcomed my instruction. You practically begged for it!"

Isn't that what he does? Warps the reality of those around him, drips poison in each sharp word that falls from his tongue with the intent to fell those who dare not give into him?

"No!" Celebrimbor yells. You flinch as he slams his hands against his desk. "What have you done to me?! What have you done to her?! Where is she!"

You feel the magic begin to wane and panic. He's about to reveal you.

"No emissary of the Valar would do this. Who are you? Truly?"

"Would you like to see the true emissary of the Valar?" Celebrimbor freezes as Annatar throws you at his feet, chains wrapped around your wrists as you writhe on the floor. You are not sure what he's doing. All you can focus on is the searing pain that is growing more intense inside of your head. "Go on then. Tell him who you really are."

Despite the pain, you force yourself to your feet. For that moment it is only you and Celebrimbor in the room. A room you have spent a night in, whether or not it was with him to keep him company or to help him with his projects. A room that once brought you both such peace.

"My-My star.. Is that really you?" You move toward him slowly, guilt flooding your face when he scrambles backward and further away. "Prove it. Prove you are not part of the illusion!"

You immediately move your fingers to the hem of your shirt. There, just where Celebrimbor knows it to be, is your holly leaf skin marking.

"I don't know what you saw, but that was not me." You begin. "That was not the flesh and blood person whose bed you so often occupy. That is not the flesh and blood person you kissed in front of the library, who you held during the beginning of our courtship at the pool... What you saw and touched in here was not me." A whimper echoes in the back of Celebrimbor's throat as you draw close enough to press his hands to your face. The other you, the one he'd thought was real, had not felt this warm. He could not feel the familiarity of warm skin or the way your heart often beat hard beneath his fingers. "You named me. You taught me how to live again. Please, Celebrimbor-"

You scream in anger as Annatar wrenches you backward, arm wound tightly around your throat. Celebrimbor whips around to face his perpetrator with dark eyes and a darker heart. Gone is the kindness that he is so often acknowledged for.

Now there is only you. Protecting you, ensuring you leave this tower alive.

"I am the one who has kept the storm at bay. I am the one who has prevented her from distracting you. Al to give you this one chance to prove your worth! Now, I want the nine!"

"NO!"

Reality shatters around you both as Fëanor's hammer collides with the window. Cries break through the haze that clouds your mind as Eregion's destruction is heard just outside the broken glass. Explosions sound alongside it, the smell of smoke permeating the air as it drifts inside.

Grey eyes, gentle hands, whispered words of Quenya and Sindarin. The sound of laughter on the wind. A staff crafted to channel your power. The holly leaf imprinted into your skin upon your creation.

You screw your eyes tightly shut. Celebrimbor's trembling breaths can be heard from the balcony as he takes in the destruction around him and what remains of his forge.

"Open your eyes," Sauron whispers in your ear. "Face the ruin of the city you nearly had within your grasp."

You force your eyes open to gaze at the one you love in front of you, nearly driven to his knees by the force of his grief. Despite feeling like your mind is being ripped open from the inside out - and likely to access memories you have only just begun to remember - you struggle against Annatar, who allows you out of his hold.

You pull Celebrimbor to you by the sleeve of his robes. Tears track down his cheeks as he meets your eyes. You do not care that Sauron is standing right beside you. You do not care that you are both in ruin. All you care about is him.

"I love you," You whisper in your native tongue, low and soft enough for only the two of you to hear as Celebrimbor clutches you to his chest and buries his face in your neck so his cries can be stifled. "I am here. I'm real. It is me, Celebrimbor."

He does not move far from you even after you part. You are his only truth midst all the deceit, and Celebrimbor will not let that disappear. You will not be ruined at his hands too.

"What-" Your eyes snap over to his desk where the urn of what was mithril has spilled, pitch black staining the paper beneath it. "The mithril!"

"That is not mithril." You say. "For mithril does not carry the rot of death, Celebrimbor."

"I must give you credit. You are far more clever than I thought you'd be." He says to you before turning his attention to Celebrimbor. "I have learned so much from you since coming to Eregion, Celebrimbor. No lesson more lasting than this," You turn to shield him with your own body, fingers tightening against the chains that bind you as Sauron lifts his hand to reveal the cut deep in his palm. "True creation requires sacrifice."

The rest falls past you in a blur. You are rushing outside after Celebrimbor mere moments later, desperate to keep him away from harm from the hands of his own people or the siege just outside his walls.

Both of you are thrown apart from the other just as the doors are thrown open. You scream and attempt to cover your head with your hands, gasping as you collide with the stone. You did not think it possible for your head to hurt worse.

Your back arches as another memory, much clearer and more perceptible, comes back to the front of your mind.

"For I have named you Beriel, as you will be my Hands of Protection for those who cannot protect themselves. This is the task I have assigned you among the Istari."

"Thank you, Lady Nienna."

Your eyes snap open. Istari. That means-

Your staff. You have to find your staff.

***

It takes you nearly an hour to work against the enchantment on the cuffs that bind you. Your staff had luckily not been far from where you'd been thrown, and the wood was crafted from among the strongest of Eregion's trees with the signature white stone that also adorned your circlet fixed into the center.

When the cuffs had fallen into the dirt at your feet, you bound forward toward the tower with a new determination in your step. He wouldn't expect you. Not like this.

"Do you know what it is like to be tortured at the hands of a God? It is agonizing. For what he wished to destroy, I wished to perfect. Sometimes the pain almost became a reward. It became a game. A contest to see whose will was the mightier."

"And after all of that, you'd still choose to inflict the same pain upon me?"

"No. You chose it. Not I."

The more Sauron's poison drips off his tongue, the angrier you get. He is so intent on breaking Celebrimbor's spirit with those manipulative words. Taking what remains of the Elf you love and twisting it in his hands until it's malleable, ready to do whatever it is told.

To touch the darkness.

"All depends on the rings," There's a far off, dreamy look in Sauron's eyes as he stretches out a hand to grasp one of the rings in his fingers. "And since you forced me to torment you to bring them into being, I am but a victim of your obstinance." The two meet eyes, and you hold your breath. "And you are the true author of your own torment."

"You really are the great deceiver. You can even deceive yourself."

Annatar's earnest expression falls into one much colder. "Finish them." He demands. You press your hand against the door and duck just out of sight as he storms out and down the stairs.

When he's gone, you rush back into the room just as Celebrimbor throws the Nine into the fire.

"Be careful!" You exclaim, and the sound of your voice is so sudden that it catches him off guard. "I do not wish you to bring further harm to yourself."

The calm of his touch is a welcome relief when his hands find your cheeks. "I am so glad you are safe, my love." He said softly. Dark green eyes slowly shift to the staff slung across your back. "Though I feel as if there is much to be caught up on."

The rings themselves are cast from the fire onto the desk.

"That hammer will not remove you from magical chains, Celebrimbor," Your fingers wind around the piece that keeps his wrist shackled to the desk. "It is something only I can do-"

"I will not have you sacrifice anything else for me. Not this day."

"It is a sacrifice I am willing to make-"

"No!" He has never shouted at you, not once. Tears burn the back of your eyes. "I have already lost my city to ruin. I will not let that happen to you too. Do you understand me?"

You nod. For all his compassion and kindness, Celebrimbor Curufinwe certainly has the Fëanorian temper.

He attempts every means to pry it off. When his eyes fall on the instrument that is meant to cut through the metals he often molds, dread shifts and settles in your chest.

"Celebrimbor, you can't-"

"I can and I will. There is no choice." You watch as he slides his thumb into the instrument and settles low enough to not fall and hurt himself further. "Whose will is the mightier?"

You rush forward to catch him. With the blood loss, there is no way he will not be vulnerable outside and you will not let anything else happen to him.

"Yours, sweet love." You whisper, sliding your arm around his waist as you begin guiding the two of you through a secondary exit in the forge. "Yours."

Everything is in chaos when you finally emerge outside. Much of the outer courtyard and surrounding buildings is nothing but rubble, submerged by fire that consumes everything it comes in contact with. There are Elves, your people, screaming in the distance. You can hardly breathe with the smell of smoke this thick.

You barely have enough to react before another explosion sounds, this one much closer, and knocks you both off your feet.

Your thoughts are on Celebrimbor as you are enveloped by darkness.

***

Galadriel only has one question when she enters the courtyard. Why are Celebrimbor's men looming over him as if they are the threat, and where are you? Last she'd heard, you were well on your way to marriage and earning the title of Lady of Eregion.

The anger that she feels at the treatment of her cousin is what propels her forward. If you cannot be his defender at this moment, she will do it in your stead.

"Release him!" She exclaims. "That is Lord Celebrimbor, greatest of Elven Smiths."

"But the Lord of Eregion ordered-"

"This is The Lord of Eregion. You should know as well that if this order were given by the Lady of Eregion, you would be equally expected to adhere to it," Calculating eyes shift over to her cousin, and there is such relief in his gaze that it nearly overwhelms her. "Celebrimbor... It is me."

Just over her shoulder, you emerge through the archway and lean heavily against it to catch your breath. Your face is veiled by the blood that trails down your temples and stains your skin. Your eyes burn from the smoke.

Galadriel's gaze falls to his bloodied hand.

"When I saw you, I was certain you were another illusion. Another cruelty devised to torment me with false hope. That is what he did with my Lady. And yet she is not here.. and I fear that which rescued me from my prison was another illusion as well."

Tears fall down your cheeks. What you would give to bring him peace.

"Sauron? More rings?" Galadriel asks. He nods.

"Nine." He holds up the pouch in his hand. "Nine rings to enslave the world of men as he enslaved me. It was my fault. From the beginning.. A part of me saw despite what she told me, and yet I still wanted what he offered! I blinded myself to what he was."

"So did I."

The moment you hear Sauron's screams, you propel yourself forward to stand beside Galadriel. Malendol and his men let you. He would not dare to question either of you. Not now.

Celebrimbor's eyes gleam as he takes you in. You are nearly as bloodied as he, but yet there is such a fire in your eyes that has yet to be put out.

"Hurry. The two of you can take the old Dwarven tunnel out of the city. That is how I entered." Galadriel said. "It will bear you both and the Rings far from here. Go. Now."

You bent down to sit beside Celebrimbor and again envelop him with your arm, the other hovering on your shoulder where your staff lay heavy as you kept your eyes cast above.

"No. It must be you," Celebrimbor argued. "I will ensure it is some time before he comes for the rings. Take them and save anyone in the city you can. Take her with you. You must hurry."

Your attention diverts back to your betrothed. "Absolutely not!" You snap. "I have been here all the while to protect you from him, and I will continue to do so now. I am staying."

"This is not an option."

"It is my choice. My choice and mine alone. My mission, above all else, has been to keep you safe." You draw closer than to kiss him fiercely, and all you can taste is ash and blood on his tongue. Galadriel softens at the way Celebrimbor responds to you. You have her cousin's heart. "This was meant to be our city. I remain."

"I built this city, Galadriel. My place is here."

"And they will not be alone," Malendol remarked. You nod your acknowledgment to the commander. Regardless of what has happened here, he is a good man.

"Neither of us were strong enough. There might not be anyone on Middle Earth who is save those who match his power. Perhaps the Elves need only remember that it is not strength that overcomes darkness, but light. Armies may rise, hearts may fail, but still, light endures and is mightier than strength. For in it's presence, all darkness must flee." He swallows the knot in his throat and takes her in for that final moment. "Namäríe."

And then you are both gone, and Galadriel is left to watch you go with no hope of ever seeing you again.

***

Before you and Celebrimbor enter the Forge again, you quickly ensure he is still wearing the holly pin you enchanted after he initially made them with you. Miraculously, it has made it this far.

Celebrimbor stares at you quizzically as you adjust it against his chest.

"I'm not quite sure that adjusting a pin will help us in here."

You peer up at him. Celebrimbor catches that you seem to know something he doesn't.

"These pins may be among the only help we will get in here." Your fingers hover over the edge of your staff against your shoulder. He will have to ask you about that later.

"They are not here." He announces to Sauron as you both enter the Forge with Malendol and his men. It is heartbreaking how only ruins remain now. Sauron has obviously been tearing what remains apart in search of The Nine. "They will be far beyond your reach now."

Sauron's eyes shift down to the staff on your shoulder and the lack of handcuffs on your wrists. "Then you are going to bring them to me and place them in my hand."

"Your hand will never touch another ring again."

Malendol calls out a command in Sindar, and you are left to watch from your spot beside Celebrimbor as his men encircle Sauron. You know this will not end well.

"By order of the true Lord of Eregion, you Sauron are-"

Celebrimbor's brow furrows as Malendol suddenly stops, seeming to be choking on his own words. You remove your staff from your shoulder and place yourself between Celebrimbor and Sauron. You know that you among the Istari are not powerful compared to him, but you can deal some damage.

And you will, especially if it gets Celebrimbor out alive.

"Did you think you were the only one who put yourself in my power? Of all the people I have ensnared, she is the only one with the strong enough will to resist." Your gaze hardened as you watched each sword turn away from Sauron to each of the elves who held them.

Celebrimbor's grip on your hip tightened as each Elf was felled, their bodies collapsing against the ground.

A white light began to shine from the stone in your circlet. The same one in your staff began to emanate white light as well. You grit your teeth and murmur an incantation in Quenya just as Malendol enters the fight. You are intent on not letting him take another innocent life.

Sauron was not anticipating the direct blast at his chest as he flew across the room.

You rush forward and wrench the Commander backward toward you. "Get out of here and flee. Help Gil-Galad's elves. Get out of the city and take the survivors. Live. Go!"

Malendol exchanges a sympathetic look with you and Celebrimbor before he leaves with a thank you for having narrowly saved him from death.

Humorless, cold laughter echoes across the Forge.

"You will give me the Nine."

"Over my dead body." You remark sharply. "And that will take you quite a while to achieve."

Sauron smiles and wipes the blood from his lips before reaching for the weapon at his side. Unknown to you, it is a dagger that he has carried in secret for all his time in Eregion, able to wound even Maiar.

"So be it."

[setsailslash]

fic writer ask game

tagged by @cetaceans-pls :D it took me a while because i actually had to think about some of these, i'm not a very reflective writer lmao

how many works on ao3?

610 (lord almighty wHAT)

total ao3 wordcount?

1,175,164 (lORD ALRIGHTY WHAT)

Top 5 fics by kudos?

the momentum is startling (my first ever gen batfam fic set in the dceu, first time trying my hand at writing any robins at all)

something borrowed (cockwarming sladejay heheh)

bumps on the road less traveled (roy and dick double teaming jason in the back of a car, also literally the one and only time i ever wrote roy lol)

a promise from a lifetime ago (my first collab with farf 🥺)

liar, liar, short pants on fire (titans dickjay mouth stuff lmfao)

What fandoms do you write for?

Purely DCU for the last 6? 7? years now. Before that lots of pacific rim and white collar. but i do dabble in snippets/drabbles that range from movies and tv shows, or manga and anime.

Do you respond to comments?

yes, always! it does take me some time to get to each one, but god knows i'll eventually get to every single one! :D

Angstiest Ending?

i don't really write angst for angst's sake but 🤔🤔🤔 maybe it matters not (brujay suburban AU) but that is more of a melancholic ending AND it has a happy follow up (and a happy ending if i ever get to writing it). Or, Playing House in Our Loving Home where jason traps himself in a dubcon relationship with the rest of the batfam because of self sacrificial reasons?

Fic with the happiest ending?

hmmmmm not quite sure if this is the right pick but i sure do love BYOB as my ultimate happy ending brujay where they decide what to do with each other's bodies when they die in that weird way they get about each other.

Do you get hate?

nothing since that one time, it was an anon msg saying im disgusting where i just wrote a mobjay filth drabble in response to because how can you make me take anon hate seriously ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

Do you write smut?

absolutely. it's my very favourite thing to write about.

Do you write crossovers?

on rare occasions. when the tide comes in is my niche dcu meets pacific rim crossover where wonder woman meets mako mori and i still think it's super clever of me even if nobody really cares for it 😂

Ever had a fic stolen?

i don't think so?? i hope not at least.

Have you ever had a fic translated?

yes and it's so cool every time 🥺 off the top of my head, i've had my fics translated to chinese, russian, and spanish. also, have translated a few chinese fics into english myself because they were just sooo good (see them here!!)

Have you ever cowritten a fic?

yes! i've cowritten Deathbringers’ Guide to Retirement (brujay assassins AU) + Midnight Cravings (sladejay uh, chicken AU) with @salmonellagogo :D also did Best Laid Plans (sladejay cop AU) with @fleet-of-red, and a few chain fics with peeps in the brujay discord server like A Guy Like You Should Wear A Warning and our CYOA Illusion of Choice! all of which were some of the funnest writing experience i've ever done.

All-time favorite ship?

just reached a whooping 100!!!!! works for brujay so i think that kinda speaks for itself given that blows all the other pairings i've ever written out of the water in terms of both quantity and longevity of my interest. my first brujay was written in 2018, and well, it's now 2025 🙀🙀🙀

WIPs you want to finish but doubt you ever will?

i have a dickjay incest AU where they are in a relationship and finds out they are actually blood related, i've been working on this since uh, forever...... and it's still in such a mish-mash state that i doubt it will ever be done. big sad on this one because i LOVE the idea and what little parts of it that i've started on.

Writing Strengths?

i've been told i got a very distinctive writing style that is kinda really recognizable. have also been told that my description of food stands out. both of which makes me go :)))) :))) :)))))))

Writing Weaknesses?

terrible with coming up with plot or describing fighting sequence type action, also kinda mediocre with dialogue unless inspiration REALLY hits?? and uh, don't really have the patience to do world building or slow burns either..... this feels like a lot of weakness lmfaao I'm not actually that good at writing, i just really like doing it hahahahaa

Thoughts on mixed language dialogue?

from someone who has gotten really shitty at their mother tongue, I'd say have fun, go for it, as long as you come from a place full of willingness to learn and not like willful ignorance or malice then do it!!! i've seen AO3 script that lets you insert translation directly into fic which is also suuuuper cool so i think there's a lot of room to figure out a happy medium.

First fandom you wrote for?

this one made me think but i think it could possibly be beyblade??? but i don't even think any of it still exists. which thank god, baby kuro was not good but by god did they try 😂

Favorite fic you've ever written?

this is SUCH a hard question, but given i have the brain of a goldfish, i recently wrote Sympathy for the Devil for the brujay server exchange, it is a brujay noir AU and i worked reallllly hard on crafting the plot and the world building so this one has gotta be my latest favourite imo.

tagging allllll of my writer peeps: @wajjs @stevieraebarnes @corvuscryptoleucus @meaninglessblah-writes @cadkitten @chekov-in-a-dress @luthienluinwe and anyone else who writes and sees this! i want to see your responses, i want to get in your writerly brains!! let meeee in!!!

[undignifiend]

Here's a hypothetical dialogue snippet that addresses a core emotional dilemma at the heart of a two-part ToA fic idea that's currently got me by the throat. 

'Mordred' is meant to be the first part. The second part is similar to Building Bridges in some ways, but:

+ without the empathy shenanigans,

+ Kanjigar Lives,

+ the Amulet is a partner system meant to have both a trollish and human champion working together to protect both worlds (and both are needed to open Killahead, which is why Deya and Kanjigar have avoided humans as much as possible so they don't open that possibility up). 

Kanjigar's life gets way more complicated when Jim becomes the first human champion since the Killahead Banishment.

And Bular is going for a Bridges-adjacent "Win them over and/or get their guard down" / "Don't kill them, that just passes the Amulet on again" strategy by occasionally helping Kanjigar (and Jim, later) answer various calls (as he's the only one Kanjigar wouldn't mind losing on a job). He's mostly proven surprisingly reliable, but is still kind of a wild card / pain in the ass.

And Kanjigar, Jim, and Bular all have parallel journeys regarding the distances they build between themselves and the people they care about most. With Kanjigar trying to protect Draal (by pushing him away), Jim trying to protect Barbara (by keeping her uninvolved), and Bular trying to protect both himself and Gunmar from just how much he has changed over the past millennium.

(Meanwhile Draal, Barbara, and Gunmar each fight to cross those respective distances.)

Currently picturing Bular and Jim sitting below the bridge over the canal after sundown for this conversation:

+++++

Bular: "You fear her knowing. Why?"

Jim: "Seriously? She already worries so much, and you want me to tell her about goblins and changelings and trolls?"

Bular: "...If an opponent were to strike you, would you prefer not to see it coming?"

Jim: "That's different."

Bular: "Is it? Your mother cannot guard against what she does not know. If you die, would you leave her to wonder how or why? Do you really think just disappearing will be kinder for her?"

Jim: "Sorry, have I given you the impression that this is somehow your business?"

Bular: "I just hate to see you make the same mistake as Kanjigar. And me."

Jim: "You…? What are you keeping from Gunmar?"

Bular: "Before the Battle of Killahead Bridge, I was captured by Arthur Pendragon."

Jim: "Woah - THE King Arthur?"

Bular: "That glorkhole nearly killed me. I got away, I recovered. But out of shame, I did not return to my father. I wanted to make up for my failure first. Accomplish something worthy to return with."

Jim: "Uh, if he'd make you feel like a failure for what happened to you…? I dunno, that doesn't sound like love to me."

Bular: "My father tore the entire region apart, searching for me. I had disappointed myself. He was worried… I wasted all that time staying away, and if I hadn't, if I'd just…"

Jim: "If you'd gone back, then you'd be trapped in the Darklands, too."

Bular: "At least I'd be by his side."

[you-know-i-get-itt]

hiii

I just saw the "wish you'd write a fic where..." post and uh. well this is a bit weird any way I put it but: the other day I had a thought that was basically "what if she wrote Élodie letters. to Jean" immediately followed up by "that'd make me cry"

it's not a request (like, I am not Asking You To Please Do This) it's just a really fun and painless and not-heartbreaking-at-all idea I had and thought I'd share since you reblogged the post : )

i hope you have a lovely day <3

…okay what if i said this idea has me in a chokehold. i think i’ll write a snippet of it now (i think elodie would be about 9):

Cher Jean-Yves,

Tu me manque!!!! Je sais que tu es à un école très importante et bla bla bla mais tu me manque. Maman a dit que tu retournais pour Noël, mais c’est TROP loin!!! Après j’ai dit ça à Maman, elle a me dit à écrire une lettre à toi, alors tu ne me oublie pas même si tu trouve les nouvelles amis qui sont plus drôle et plus amusants que moi. je sais que tu ne vais jamais trouver amis comme ça parce que je suis la plutôt drôle et amusant, mais tu es très stupide quelque fois. Et alors a maintenant je t’écris comme une princesse d’une conte de fées. Je n’ai jamais écrit de lettre avant ça, mais je m’amuse beaucoup avec ça parce que c’est un peu comme un journal, sauf que je veux que quelqu’un le lise. Tu dois essayer d'écrire une lettre aussi et bien sûr tu devrais essayer de l’écrire à MOI parce que je suis assez gentille pour t’en écrire une. D’accord frérot au revoir!!! Je ne peux pas attendre de Noël parce que je sais que je te manque BEAUCOUP.

Ta sœur très intelligente et sympas,

Élodie

translation:

Dear Jean-Yves,

I miss you!!!! I know you are at a very important school and blah blah blah but I miss you. Maman said you were going back for Christmas, but that is SO far!!! After I said that to Maman, she told me to write a letter to you, so you don't forget me even if you find the new friends who are funnier and more fun than me. I know you will never find friends like that because I am the funniest and the most fun, but you are very stupid sometimes. And so now I am writing to you like a princess in a fairy tale. I’ve never written a letter before but I’m having a lot of fun with it because it’s a little like a diary except I want someone to read it. You should try writing a letter too and obviously you should try writing it to ME because I’m sweet enough to write one to you. Okay (diminutive of “brother”) bye!!! I can't wait for Christmas because I know you miss me A LOT.

Your very intelligent and kind sister,

Élodie

[lightlycareless]

✨️

Heya!

I wasn't given any specific scenario for this meme, so I decided to write a little something regarding Naoya's pov of the wedding day :> (For those that don't follow me, I mean this fic over here)

It ended up being somewhat shorter than I anticipated, but I think it's mainly because there's nothing much I wanted to show that wasn't already on the main story? It did provide some depth (from both sides), I believe.

Ah anyways, I'm sorry for taking so long to get back to you, but I hope it's to your liking!!! Depending of the reactions for this one-shot I might write more stuff like this :>

There are no major warnings for this snippet this time, although a big f you towards Naoya is suitable.

Without further ado, happy reading!!

Naoya has never been the one to succumb to his anxieties, buckle under his stress, or in other words, the nervous type. Never. It was a luxury the heir could not indulge in—always one to keep his mind cold, focused on the goal at hand, and nothing more.

But on his wedding day, that reality turned out to be a bit different.

It wasn’t that hard to pinpoint what had him feeling somewhat anxious. It’s certainly not because he wasn’t looking forward to it, if anything, this was all his mind could think of ever since the date was set.

Rather, it was the fact that it was today—

Today, the day that he gets married is finally today, and he has yet to wrap his head around that notion.

He just couldn’t believe it; it felt like it was ages ago that he was forcing negotiating with your father the details of such arrangements, just what type of benefits he’d from the union, when, and of course, the official paperwork.

Everything else, such as the decorations, food, the shrine where the ceremony would take part, and even the venue for the reception would be all under your clan’s jurisdiction, for they were formalities he really didn’t care about if he was being honest, because they were just that: formalities. Things done for the sake of tradition and appearances. If it were up to him, he’d just sign the papers and get on with it.

Nonetheless, he guesses he could find a bit of delight behind the party, the perfect opportunity to show off the fruits of his hard work and dedication, the conclusion of his long-awaited search: you, by his side, portraying the role you were always meant to have:

His wife.

Ah, but until then…

“Are you nervous?” His closest confident, and what many would consider his best man for this occasion, Ranta, asks. It was a question made out of custom, not because he believed his friend was actually nervous but… well, he’d be lying if he didn’t admit to seeing something a bit different coming from Naoya, even when he tries to hide it with a scoff and a roll of his eyes, behaving as if this were the dumbest question he’s ever heard in his life.

“What for?” Naoya asks back as he adjusts his collar—nothing short of a traditional montsuki.

“Oh—uh… well, aren’t you nervous because you’re going to see all of Y/N’s family?” Ranta attempts to strike up a conversation, lighten up the mood, but to no avail, for as stated before, Naoya couldn’t care less about the ceremony and the people attending. Those things were simply done to comply with both the Zen’in’s and the L/N’s tantrums—he just wanted to marry you and that’s it.

But if he were to voice his opinion…

“Why should I?” he retorts, adjusting the last details of his attire.  “If it were to me, they wouldn’t even be invited.”

The one that insisted the most on being there, he recalls, was your father. Something about wanting to be at his children's first wedding, or something like that. Obviously, a thing that Naoya would never understand, considering how he almost banned his own father from attending, if only he weren’t the leader of the clan, he would’ve gotten his way!

But, ah, well, he guesses he could let him see you off one last time, for Naoya doesn’t intend on letting you out of his sight once you’ve settled into the Zen’in estate.

There is one person he wanted to see the least in his wedding though, and that was not a hard guess to make: your sister, Hinata.

His father he could tolerate. Just a few drinks and he’d be out of the picture.

But Hinata… she’s the one he knows will be throwing daggers at him, if not openly denouncing this marriage, whenever possible. It’ll be awkward, to say the least, to even stand near her, as well as getting to see that ugly scowling face of hers throughout the entirety of the reception—shouldn’t the groom be able to celebrate this special day as he should?

On the other hand, there is one person he is looking forward to seeing: Satoru.

The invitation was sent essentially sent out of through Naoya’s volition, since your clan had long given up on whatever relationship they had with the Gojo’s thanks to your sister’s imprudent call.

Naoya’s perspective of that whole situation was… complex, to say the least.

He didn’t necessarily agree with your clan’s decision to join both heir’s in marriage, but at the same time, he was glad she was chosen, and not you. On the other hand, he despised Hinata’s abrupt decision on calling the engagement off, for had it gone through, the Zen’in and the Gojo’s would’ve been related one way or the other, and Satoru was one of the few people he admired enough to have that connection.

Well, only Naoya understands his own density better than anyone else, besides, there is not much purpose in ruminating on what’s done, not when he had a long day ahead.

“Are you ready?” Naoya asks Ranta, turning around to see him. Here, his friend is able to get a clear view of him.

Naoya was always one to look good whatever he wore, but this particular outfit… struck Ranta a different way. Perhaps it was the symbolism behind it that had him emotional. Even though he always knew that Naoya was set to marry one day, since it was part of the deal of him becoming heir, it still made him happy to know it was done on his own terms, with the girl he liked.

Because even though he might deny it, Ranta was able to see just how excited Naoya really was to marry you.

On the way to the shrine is when Naoya’s nerves started to get the best of him. He tried his hardest to appear composed, act as if this was just another run-of-the-mill mission he was tending to, but his fidgeting fingers, as well as shaking leg, gave it away. All that was left to do at this point was bite his nails!

Thankfully, Ranta (the only one accompanying him on the drive, alongside the chauffer) was there to ease his nerves, or… more likely try to, because no matter what he said, no matter how much he tried to tell him that everything was alright and would proceed as planned, Naoya always found something to snap back at him with.

“What if she’s not there?” Naoya would eventually say, and of all things he previously disclosed, this is the one that Ranta figured worried him the most—something he would’ve never imagined possible, yet, here they were …

“She’s going to be there” Ranta responds, placing his hand over his shoulder. It was brief, but enough for him to feel the tension radiating from Naoya. He swallows his own nerves, trying his best to not wince out of surprise, as he continues. “If anything, she’s already waiting for you, worrying that you might not be the one showing up.”

It’s an attempt of a joke, a way to laugh at his own miseries instead of succumbing to them, but his words only make his anxiety spike.

“Don’t be stupid!” he snaps. “There’s too much at stake for me to simply not show up.”

His friend supposes that must be true—knows it to be the truth. Only he and a few select members of the Zen’in clan truly acknowledged all that Naoya had to sacrifice to get this engagement going, and how much he’s going to lose if it doesn’t go as planned…

But that is something that shouldn’t worry him today, on his special day, less when he’s gone above and beyond to ensure nothing falls out of place.

The only thing Naoya should worry about is getting to the shrine, saying his vows, and enjoying the rest of his life alongside his new partner.

And of course, get past through the crowd of unwanted guests, who as soon as Naoya entered the venue, were quick to glue their eyes on him, eagerly analyzing his every movement as he made way past them.

Even through a quick glance, your soon-to-be husband was able to recognize those nearby, starting with his relatives, who were not that many as a matter of fact, just his father and some of the elders, as if to show the Zen’in clan was present and nothing else. Most of his uncles and brothers didn’t even bother to attend, which Naoya was glad they didn’t, for the last thing he wanted was them ruining today with their nonsense.

It was a surprise Ogi was able to go all together, having previously voiced uninterest in his nephew’s wedding, complained about it to his father too. He didn’t even bother to hold back his disdain given the way he scowls at him when their eyes cross. Naoya guesses he’ll have to put him in his place later.

Unfortunately for him, his distaste would only grow when catching sight of Naobito—the reception hadn’t even started and yet, the man was already drunk. He swore he could almost smell the alcoholic stench coming off him from all the way down the hallway…. But nothing he could do about that and his usual alcoholic behavior.

He was elated that none of his brothers attended. He wouldn’t know what he’d do if he found Naoaki in the crowd…

From there, found on the other side of the room, stood your family—slightly more extensive than his, but not by that much. The first thing that he notices is the absence of your father, which made him wonder if in the end he decided to skip the wedding all together, only for Ranta to explain that he wished to “walk his daughter down the aisle.” A bit… contemporary, Naoya notes, but if his lack of presence was to confirm anything, it was that he was given permission to do so, thus he lets the topic out of his mind soon after.

The second person that catches his attention is your sister, with that ugly dog face of hers, probably already cursing him given the way she stared at him. Even when dressed for the occasion, she’s as ugly as ever: it’s like dressing up a monkey! No matter what it wears, it’ll always be that, a monkey. Naoya holds back his chuckle as he continues walking, some people are just bound to be hideous no matter what they wore.

Naoya doesn’t think anything of the third person that catches his attention, your brother Ren—he doesn’t look like he’s saying nor thinking much either, so he’ll leave him at that.

His major disappointment would come, however, in the form of Gojo’s absence. He tries to console himself thinking that perhaps he decided to avoid being seen with your sister after the humiliation she put him through—God knows he’d be doing the same if he were the one previously engaged to Hinata.

Although he knew that would never happen, because his tastes were different, superior in a way—that’s why he settled for the better sister, and not someone who thought they were the greatest simply because they had a flashy technique. You were much humble and likeable in that way.

The rest that he vaguely recognized were the elders of your clan, the people he had the displeasure of conversating with when arranging everything for his short-lived engagement. They would give him a quick nod of acknowledgement, a gesture Naoya ignored in favor of continuing his way, and soon they faded into the background.

And lastly, but not least, you. Obviously absent given the theatrics of such a ceremony, but even then, he could admit that the scenery was unbearably dull without your presence, and his eagerness to see you only arises once more.

He’s frantically counting the seconds you’ll be making your way through the doors, dressed up in the traditional wedding dress prepared by his clan and everything else that will essentially let everyone else know you are his.

It’s a sentiment that has him on edge, to finally live the moment he’s been waiting for (albeit unknowingly) all his life.

Yet, no amount of anticipation could’ve prepared him for when it finally happened—the very instance you step into his view, accompanied by your father, tightly holding onto his arm as your eyes glanced from one side of the room to the other, before finally locking gazes with him.

Everything else ceased to exist that very moment. From here on out, it was just you, covered in a pristine whiteness that made you look nothing but innocent, accompanied by a subtle tint of red on your cheeks, undoubtedly out of shyness for the crowd before you, whilst seeking comfort in your father’s touch, something he’ll do from this point forward.

It's a sight that allures Naoya, makes his heart squeeze with longing, anticipation for what’s to come next—but even when you were just a few feet away from him, walking towards his direction, he still found it hard to believe this was his wedding, and you… his future wife.

But what surprised him the most after your veil was lifted, even though he already knew this, was your beauty.

You’re exactly as he remembers… if not more given the warmth he feels when seeing you again, this close, after so many years.

Such was his disbelief, that he blurted out the first thing that crossed his mind, the same one he thought of when meeting you for the first time all those years ago...

“You’re beautiful”

Your eyes widen out of surprise, speechless by his words; or perhaps something else, since they had been nothing less than a murmur, but the moment you were to finally react, the priest makes his appearance, initiating the ceremony.

Naoya doesn’t know how he was able to keep his eyes away from you as the priest went on, trying his hardest to act as if he truly cared about anything else but you, and the moment he’ll seal the deal…

And when it finally did, when he was allowed to kiss you for the first time, he swore his heart almost jumped out of his chest. His hands were trembling a bit, which he hoped no one saw, as he turned around to see you.

Naoya couldn’t do anything else but stare at you for a few seconds, eyes glancing from your nervous ones, to your pink lips, and to your eyes yet back again… all tempting images that just pushed him over the edge.

Perhaps it was his nerves, given he had to do that in front of everyone, or his own eagerness for how close he was to realize one of his biggest desires, that Naoya ends up swiftly smashing his lips against yours, giving you little to no time to react outside of a whimper, before he was lightly sucking on your lip, as if asking for permission to enter, to which you dubiously obliged.

It was a (very) awkward, seemingly eternal moment for those that saw it, if not infuriating for your family members as your now-husband would later find out, but for Naoya it was nothing but fleetingly sweet—a moment that he barely managed to grasp before he was pushed by the priest to continue on with the ceremony.

He didn’t want to pull away from you, didn’t way to move away from your presence, less when he was completely, utterly captivated by the warmth of your skin against his, your soft lips hesitantly moving alongside his, and the way your eyes look at him, somewhat hazed by his gesture…  

But he moves forward when the crowd begins to cheer once formally introduced as husband and wife—a roaring sound that manages to divert his attention from you to the recognition he was getting from all those that attended.

He couldn’t help but grin with satisfaction, because from this day forward, Naoya is officially your husband—and you, his.

Truly, all the shady things he had done, all the sacrifices he had to make and the hard work he put in for this very moment, had been worth it in the end.

It was the beginning of the rest of his life, and Naoya couldn’t wait to share it with you.

Perhaps it was the continuous gratifying acknowledgement of his decision to marry you, or maybe the fact that everyone started calling you Mrs. Zen’in soon afterwards, telling you what a good catch you found in him, that the subsequent celebration slowly began to grow on Naoya.

Sure, he still disliked having to entertain his guest like some kind of puppet, put on the façade that he cared if they were having a good time or not, when all he wanted was to run away with you and enjoy his married life.

But now he slowly began to like the idea of staying around for a bit, bask in the attention, even if he’s to humiliate himself first…

The first thing that your family and his essentially forced him to do was take pictures. Pose with each of the guests, put up a smile, and repeat that until everyone got their fare share of “memories”.  Annoying, indeed, but at least you were there accompanying him.

From there, he’d have to strike up conversations with said guests. Naoya found it harder to fulfill that aspect, given he wasn’t one anyone would call a social butterfly, while you… well, you did your best to blend in and not appear as a total outcast—not more than you were already feeling anyways.

“Did you know him prior to the wedding?” One would ask you, someone neither you nor your husband recognized. Well, some of the guests were only there because of the positions they held in the jujutsu community, not because they were relatives or friends…

“Oh, um…” you’d stammer, pressing your lips before nodding. “Once. During my school’s exchange event.”

The other person seems to be surprised by your answer, expecting perhaps your union to be completely done in the dark, as most arranged marriages were. And in many ways… it was. This had come out of the blue for you, completely unexpected for you didn’t think your meeting with him was anything memorable.

Apparently not to Naoya, of course, whose mind stuck there, obsessed with seeing you again, eventually thinking the best path to take was to marry you—

The next thing to do after everyone got talked into boredom, was serving the food of course—perhaps the only moment Naoya would have with you, without being disturbed, throughout the whole ceremony. At least until it was time to cut the cake, where once again he found himself believing that maybe having this party wasn’t that great of an idea, especially when he was forced yet again to pose and smile for a picture.

“I don’t want to do this” he openly states as he makes way to the cake, with you beside him. You remain silent, awkwardly standing there as if waiting for instructions, which comes soon after once the photographer your family hired (the elders, of course—your father didn’t want any pictures of this day) sees the perfect shot.

“Get closer!” he’d instruct, looking through the lenses as he motions the couple just where he wanted them. “Turn around towards me a bit—and grab the knife, the two!”

Naoya groans as he reaches over to the knife, tightly grasping the handle, and more than ready to stab the cake—but when he sees your hand loom over his, hesitantly, briefly retracting as if unsure you even had permission to touch him, his anger stop for a quick second, eyes soon darting to yours.

You stare at him, dumbfounded by his quick reaction and leaving you speechless once again— but you don’t succumb to that awkwardness, not when you realize it’s the second time you’ve behaved in such way, and it could be misinterpreted as rude.

So instead, you decide to give him a tight smile, a gesture to symbolize empathy, as well as to ease the tension between the two—you are his wife, after all, wouldn’t it be appropriate for you to get along with him?

An innocent act that kicks Naoya’s heart up a notch, and his eagerness for that night’s activities even higher.

Naoya immediately takes hold of your hand, gently helping you take a better grip of the knife before returning your gesture with a smile of his own.

“Careful” he murmurs against your ear as he moves closer to you, moving the knife to where he thought better. “I wouldn’t want my wife cutting herself.”

You tense up, cheeks red from his closeness, his seeming care, and the fact that he referred to you as his wife.

It’ll take you a while to get used to that title, you assume, but… it does have a nice ring to it. Specially if it came from a man as alluring as Naoya.

You’d now have to admit that, regardless of what your family had said, you were somewhat looking forward to this marriage. It had been the first time anyone had ever considered you in such prospects, and from someone as handsome and influential as he was.

The thought of it makes your cheeks grow even warmer, instinctively leaning into Naoya’s touch as the horizon of your future alongside him unveils itself in your mind, briefly distracting you from the present before your husband asks you to look back to the camera.

“Smile, princess” he says, and you do, holding his hand tighter.

It’s another one of those fleeting instances, meant to be shared just between the two, but the man seeking to preserve the best moments from the wedding couldn’t care less about that, not when the sight before him was genuine.

“That’s perfect!” the photographer says, adjusting his lenses “Hold it—!”

And then—snap! He takes the picture.

It would be the only picture where Naoya appears smiling, and the only one he kept too.

Truly, all that he had done was worth it in the end.

All the time he had to wait, all the sacrifices, all the rejections and disappointments… it had all been worth it.

He couldn’t wait to live out the rest of his life with you as his wife, and he, your husband. To create a home with you, where he’d be welcomed, cherished, loved, with the same gentleness he’d seen you give to others before. Kindness that only belonged to him now.

Naoya felt absolutely blessed to have found the perfect partner in you before anyone else could’ve taken you away.

You simply arrived at the right time.

His heart now knows that from this point forward, it’ll be nothing but smooth sailing.

yeah, stfu naoya. lol

[radioisntdead]

REGARDING THE SNIPPETS BECAUSE I HAVE BEEN BLESSED BY THE GIFT OF YOUR WRITING

Love above love: “He more or less did nothing wrong, just came down to slaughter sinners” oh Adam sweetie no, that’s genocide. 

I can’t even take a quote from felt and flesh the entire thing is just. AHHH *several aggressive chefs kisses*. The DESPAIR AND ANGUISH I CANNOT WAIT. 

Shady: “Being able to say you beat the radio demon in a gambling match would be a nice flex” lolll. And as we all know he won and they are now best friends 😀

Your writing is so yummy. It’s my favourite food. Absolutely scrumdiddlyumptious. NOM. You are cooking and it smells amazing. Obviously don’t rush yourself but I must say I am looking forward to reading the full things because YUMMMYYYY.

You have to feed me through the baseboards since I live in your walls now btw. 

-🦋

AAAA I'M SO GLAD YOU LIKED THE SNIPPETS!!!

With love above love it's so RARARARAR, I can't spill much about it because I'm stuck with a gap in the middle that I'm working on but I can say it involves this song and redemption >:] and Adam getting tormented by Niffty

I haven't written much for Adam but it's so FUN EXPLORING HIS MINDSETS AND CHARACTER, and I'm especially proud of this paragraph here, I need to clean it up a bit but RARARA

I'm definitely planning on writing more for the heaven folks too, especially with their mindsets, the line between what is considered good and bad, on one side they think what they are doing is good but the reality it's not, and I definitely have some stuff in mind regarding Charlie and Emily, maybe Sera too, because none of them, despite interacting with Sinners and winners, they've never actually been human, and I don't know if Lute is heavenborn or not but depending which prospective I wanna write her with AAAA, I actually have a fic idea involving her with her spouse and I don't know what the plot is but I do have the readers halo shattering, and it progresses throughout the fic, just it starts with a few cracks here and there before shattering >:]

With felt and flesh, I uh, may have gotten VERY CARRIED AWAY, It's for this one request with a Muppet reader and I would like to state that I cried while writing, and I'm still not done with it because I decided to add more to it, but the reader deals with lost of their identity, and especially being used as a puppet, and going from being flesh and blood to, felt and being an actual Muppet, it does have a happy/bittersweet??? Ending though!

WITH SHADY AAAA, another song fic, I heard this song from the great Gatsby musical and my brain IMMEDIATELY went "OVERLORD HUSK." I think I screamed about it in my discord server??

I checked and I very briefly mentioned it, then got distracted by Panini's

I'm pretty sure one of my after fic yaps that I have in my drafts is just about Panini's...

Anyways I'm actually almost done with shady! I just gotta figure out some shenanigans, Husk is low-key a father figure to the reader in this >:]

Speaking of the asformentioned daycare fic I cannot write jealousy for the LIFE OF ME, I am great at writing daycare things through, fun fact! Ages ago I used to write for FNAF security breach, I had a whole fic with OCS, most of them have ironically been recycled, my OCs Cleo and Ezra specifically have become hazbin OCS, one also became one of my Sona/self insert oc's sisters :]

Anyways I need to get that fic out it's almost been a year since it's been requested and that's not good...

I'm so glad you like my writing!!! I canonically do my cooking in a fancy easybake oven >:]

And I hope you like pasta because that's what we're having for dinner tonight but since that's not done yet here's more snippets!!

The daycare fic, a songfic with an Roo/Eve/ Epic the musical's Calypso coded reader >:] and a pierrot clown reader hehehe

And as a bonus some OC fics I have too with some scattered about lore, >:]

I really need to post them because THE THINGS I'VE DONE TO THEM.

I hope you enjoy these snippets 🦋!!!! Have a wonderful day/night!!!

[snoelledarts]

tell me about don't ask, percy!!

OKAY This one is set in a sort-of AU where after Percy and Annabeth go to college they don't see Nico and Will for like, a handful of years! It's a solangelo fic but from Percy's perspective, which is weird but bear with me LOL. Basically they all get together for the first time in forever and Nico (now 21) has finally hit Puberty(tm) and Percy is flabbergasted. I just think Nico deserves to glow up, and that there should be at least one universe where he gets to be the tallest of the Big Three kids. Snippet under the cut!

When Percy knocks, suitcase in one hand and Annabeth’s cool palm in the other, he’s expecting his mom to answer. But it’s not his wonderful, smile-lined mom with a plateful of fresh blue cookies like he’d been hoping. It’s Nico. 

All the air leaves Percy’s lungs for a second. Sure, Nico had a growth spurt the last time he saw him, but Nico at 17 still kinda looked like a kid. Scrawny, not quite grown into himself, a little underfed and pale despite his best efforts. But now… the last four years have been really kind to him. He’s clearly an adult now. Like Percy would see him on the street and wonder what nearby college he went to kind of adult. His clothes fit right, his black t-shirt tight with a random band logo and intentionally baggy black pants adorned all sorts of chains and embellishments. He looks straight off of some punk kid’s outfit inspiration page. Percy’s stuck between feeling proud and so, so overwhelmed.

“Nico!” Annabeth drops Percy’s hand and lets go of her suitcase, looping her arms around Nico’s lithe middle for a big hug. He looks tanner, his hair curling past his shoulders and his eye-bags less dark, and his face breaks out into a large (distinctly not Hades-like) grin as he leans down to wrap now-toned arms around Annabeth in return. Percy would definitely consider Annabeth tall, but she looks average wrapped in Nico’s arms. 

“Good to see you.” He squeezes her just once, still smiling when he lets her go. One side of his smile comes up just a bit higher than the others, and the tilt of his dark eyebrows always makes his smiles look a little sad, but gods is it good to see him happy and healthy. 

“And good to see you too,” Nico says as he sticks a hand out to shake Percy’s. Absolutely not. 

“Oh, come on!” Percy smacks his hand away and pulls Nico into a crushing hug, pulling him down just a bit so he doesn't feel quite so short. Nico, thankfully, laughs against him, squirming a bit to try and get his arms around Percy too but they’re crushed in between them. Percy eventually pulls back but keeps his hands on Nico’s shoulders. “What are they feeding you at camp?!” He jokes, making a show of the fact that he has to tilt his head up to look Nico in the eyes. He’s only an inch and a half shorter, but it still feels like a whole Hell of a lot compared to the little squirt Nico used to be. 

“Magic,” Nico jokes, just as Will walks up behind him. 

“I thought I heard commotion at the door!” Will’s thousand watt smile comes into view as Nico backs up from the door frame to let Will past, separating himself from Percy’s grip.

They give their proper hello’s to Will too, exchanging hugs.

Will is also much older looking since the last time Percy saw him. He supposes college will do that to a guy. Not much has changed other than he’s a bit square-er than he used to be. Far more jawline than the round baby-face he used to have when he and Nico started dating. Now, instead of boyish charm, he gives more… Texan charm? Surfer boy charm? No, Percy kind of hates both of those. He definitely looks like his dad, though. Apollo’s genes were strong in this one.  

“No, but, really! When did you get so tall?” Percy can’t leave it alone as he and Annabeth haul their meager suitcases through the doorway. 

“Uh, I don’t know? I don’t exactly measure myself everyday,” Nico laughs, which he seems to be doing a lot. Good. Percy can’t help but laugh too at the mental image of Nico against a wall while Will makes a pencil mark next to a wall sticker of a ruler, carefully writing the date next to it like Percy’s mom used to do. 

“I’m definitely a fan,” Will winks at Nico, clearly taking joy in Nico’s blush and the not-really annoyed roll of his eyes. 

Percy opens his mouth to reply something stupid when his mom rushes into the living room. Saved by Sally Jackson once again. 

“Percy!” She rushes over, knowing Percy will drop everything he’s holding to wrap her in a giant hug. He squeezes his mom tight, burying his face in her shoulder and letting all of his other thoughts fall away.

[murkystarlight]

I've been stacking up again :D (all the days where you leave an ask or comment or reading, I've done it. Mhm. I think. Did I-?...) And I totally did not do half of these yesterday and today on improv

Day 13

Cozy

I did... somewhat of a background! YAY This was definitely something new to try. I liked the water brush pen after using it for the icecream on day... something-

And where did he bandana go?? I have no idea. Probably inside a hat(those.. fuzzy winter hats. It takes everything on your head with it when you take it off)

I have all the other days I didn't manage to do under the cut. I also have day 11 under day 13 bc it's too long.

Day 11

Christmas snippet (except I have no idea what is supposed to be done- so I just tried to write)

"WHAT?? YOU DIDN'T CELEBRATE HOLIDAYS ON SKY CITY???"

"Jesse- please, lower your voice" the girl desperately covered her ears, squinting her eyes. Having already experienced how loud the brunette can be.

"I just- I mean- why not? Did you not know about it??" Jesse started shuffling around, but still keeping her eyes on Isa.

"No. It's just... since we didn't have enough resources, we never got the chance to do a proper celebration." She sighed. Fleeting her eyes to avoid meeting Jesse's. "Some might not even know what holidays are. Even now, our main priority is rebuilding the city- I can barely remember the last time I celebrated a holiday.." she sighed.

Jesse listened carefully before an idea lit up in her head.

"Since it's not something your people can manage to do right now..., why don't you take a day off and bring everyone to Beacon Town!"

Isa looked back at Jesse, confused.

"It'll be fun! People can get to know each other and enjoy Christmas together" Jesse smiled brightly. Grabbing Isa by the hem of her jacket while staring up at her with wide eyes. "You know? Christmas spirit"

"Well- I.. guess it wouldn't be a problem- but are you sure it's okay if all of us just... marched into your world?" The girl played with the end of her long silky black hair, still feeling worried.

"Of course it is! It's not like you have hundreds. And we have enough space around the town." Jesse reassured her. Taking her hands this time. The cold skin felt surprisingly soothing for the other.

"....thank you. For your generous offer, Jesse."

"Anything for a friend"

Yeah. Whatever that is— okay, moving on

Day 15

Repeated day 14. Well.. kind of. It's not exactly a......... incorrect quote. It's- well. I put it in together with day 19. I hope it works out??

Day 16

Gift giving

I wasn't sure if it meant draw a piece of art to gift to someone... or draw art of gifts? Anyways I'll add it in a separate post

Day 18

Classic minecraft

This was really nice. Would've been nice if I played with a friend... I have one friend that can also play Minecraft and is around me. But she's busy these days so... idk. Maybe next time. But I still had fun playing with my brother.

Day 19

Ugh, fine. <3

I would've gone with like.. Hadrian but... nah. I don't really come across him often anyways. So I did Aiden. Might finish it- might not..

Day 21

OC appreciation

Gave the thought to make one of my own! Except I remember now that I already have one. The admin OC I thought of from basil's suggestion(?). Take her :)

Eh uh... something like this?

Day 22

AU appreciation

Day 23

I do NOT appreciate my AU's. This was a chance to actually appreciate them. bc I don't really work on them or think of working on them after planning just the characters and storyline. So have this

I've done this much. Ain't no way I'm not finishing this

Drawing a scene from a fic I enjoy

Actually... I'll do this one separately too

[echo-exanimo]

a snippet from the fic im writing

speeding bullet content ahead!!

its a lil angsty but im havin fun with it hehe

for a touch of background, scout noticed snipers last name on an item earlier which is Why he knows that. just. for reference.

"Yeah, mate, not a problem. Let me start some tea."

---

A knock at his door woke Sniper with a start. It was dark outside, hardly time for anybody to be up and about. He slid from his bed, pistol in hand as he went to the door.

"Who's there?"

"...Snipes?" Came the quiet reply.

Sniper set down the gun on a nearby ledge, unlocking the door with a questioning look. "Roo? Why're you out here at this hour?"

"Uhhh," Scout scratched the back of his head. "Couldn't sleep. Ya mind if I-"

The two sat in silence as Sniper started a kettle and set aside a few mugs.

"Y'mind tellin' me why you're out here at..." He checked the clock. "4 in the bloody morning?"

"I told ya. Can't sleep." The easygoing smile he shot the Sniper didn't quite reach his eyes.

"Right." Sniper decided not to press it any further. They could talk over a few mugs of tea.

More silence. It felt stifling without Scout's near constant chatter, the way his presence didn't seem to take up the entire room and instead hardly took up the space of his body.

Sniper stirred a spoonful of honey into one of the mugs before turning and offering it to Scout. "Here. Chamomile." He tipped his head a bit at Scout. "My mother used to make it for me. Helps you ease up a bit."

"Sounds good." He took the mug, and Sniper was struck with how strange his hands looked when they weren't wrapped for work. He sat down across from Scout with a sigh, figuring if he didn't speak, the other man would eventually.

"...Snipes?"

"Mm?"

"You ever think about, uh, home?" His eyes darted to the ground before he looked back up. "Like... The people you miss? Wonder if they'd be proud?"

"Well, my mum and dad don't particularly appreciate my line of work..." He twiddled with the spoon in his mug, mixing even though the honey had long dissolved. "Didn't really have too many others."

"Oh."

Scout fell quiet again, sipping his tea thoughtfully.

"Well, I... I miss my ma. I worry about her, y'know?" He sighed, running a hand through his hair. "It's been a while since I've been home, she doesn't know where I am... Been a while since we talked."

"Is that what's buggin' ya?"

Scout looked down. "No, not really."

Sniper placed down his mug and watched Scout carefully as he began to speak again.

"It's my brothers. They, uh... These dogtags, y'know?"

His words were scattered in a characteristically Scout way without any of the energy. It made sense, but for a second Sniper didn't quite catch it. The Scout didn't often talk about his background.

"I just can't imagine how worried my ma must be, the third of her sons to disappear into a war she can't know about. She doesn't know I die every single day, she doesn't know what I do, she doesn't know any of it."

Scout looked uncomfortable, scuffing his feet against the legs of the table. "I wanna go home for a bit. Just let her know I'm okay. She doesn't have to know it all, just know I'm here. I'm not going anywhere." His voice got progressively quieter as he spoke, a far cry from the Scout he'd been just a few hours ago, rowdy in the lounge with the rest of the guys, cards and booze and raucous laughter.

"Mate..."

"Nah, nah, I- I know it's kinda dumb. Like. We all have people back home. I just worry for my ma. I should call her tomorrow." He took a long drink of the tea.

Another long silence, but this one felt a little less quiet.

"...If you'd like," Sniper winced at the sound of his own voice breaking through the quiet. "you can stay here for the night. If the company would help at all."

"...Yeah. Thanks."

"Not a problem." He nodded once and stretched. "Can I get you anything else?"

"Uh... Nah, I don't think so. Thanks, Mundy."

The Sniper stood still, having stood to start cleaning.

"Sorry. Shit. I can, uh-"

"No. No, it's fine, I'm just... Not used to hearing that name. Not anymore. But. It's Mick. Mick Mundy."

"..Jeremy Gallagher."

"Irish, mm?"

"Yeah. Irish."

The two were quiet for a moment longer before Sniper continued, empty mug in hand to place into the sink. "Blankets are in the drawer beside you."

"Alright. Yeah, thanks."

Sniper retreated to his bed, quietly groaning as he got settled. "Don't wake me up too early, now."

"No way. I'm tired enough as is."

This earned Scout a tired laugh. "Right then. I won't worry with the alarm. Five minutes to get ready work for you?"

"Yeah."

[rockinlibrarian]

Post-Umbrella Academy S4 Reaction Part Two: Still Not a Show Write-up, a Fraction of a Fanfic Instead (spoilery)

I mentioned yesterday that I'd been toying with a TUA/Legion Crossover Fic idea, and that the finale of the former (particularly as it reminds me so much of the finale of the latter) has made me determined I really should do it and definitely set it post-Season 4. It's a perfect fix-it for TUA and I can actually work in a bit more fix-it for Legion, too. Anyway, it was stewing in my head all night, and this morning I woke up with IDEAS, and I ended up sitting down and writing 1,334 words-- a whole scene, a chapter basically, but it would be a chapter in the middle, which who knows when I would get to post that as a whole on AO3, and I feel like I need to post this part RIGHT NOW, even though it is essentially the MIDDLE of the story.

The basic overarching premise is that the Hargreeves end up at Summerland, the haven for troubled mutants (Marvel-style) in Legion. Summerland is co-run by a psychologist who's made it her life's work to help mutants reach their full potential, healing the traumas of living in a world that fears them, the traumas of everything being born Weird gives them.

You can, uh, see how this place might be good for the Hargreeves, right?

You don't need to know much more about Legion for this chapter-- there's some references to characters, but primarily THIS snippet is just my two favorite Hargreeves, who also did not get ANY time together this season, having a Feelings talk (AND WHOM I MANAGED TO WRITE A TENDER SCENE FOR WITHOUT IT TURNING NON-PLATONIC, BE PROUD OF ME) (yes for the uninitiated I am a pathetic Fiktor shipper, please see FAQ post to not hate me), so here, have Feelings with me!

PORTION OF A FUTURE MULTICHAPTER LEGION/TUA CROSSOVER. The working title of the Scrivener sheet for this particular chapter is "This willl NOT be Fiktor I SWEAR," but that will not be the final title. ;)

Viktor walked down to the lake, savoring the woodsy sounds and the gentle adagio behind it, when he spotted a familiar figure sitting at the edge of the dock.

Well, relatively familiar. He wasn’t used to seeing Five sit so still.

“Hey.” He sat beside him.

Five shifted slightly, as if to make room, nodded, and said, “Hey,” back, then drifted back into his odd silence.

After a minute, Viktor cleared his throat. “Beautiful here. Ever want to try fishing?”

Five sighed. “I’ve done a lot of fishing, wasn’t exactly a party.”

“Yeah, I guess not.” Viktor sat in the awkward vibes. The vibes. Who knew silence could be so loud?

“Hey.” He paused. “Five. You okay? You’ve been really quiet lately.”

“Is there something I should be saying?”

“Normally you can’t keep your mouth shut, that’s all. But ever since we came here I think the only person I’ve seen you talk to is that Dr. Loudermilk. You’re avoiding everybody, and, granted, I think I hear Diego growling every time you come near and that would put me off, but still, are you okay?”

“Heh.” Five ran his fingers into his hair and held them there, staring into the murky water at their feet. “Guess you didn’t hear about what happened, did you.”

“Um, I guess not?”

Five sighed even more deeply, and lay back on the dock. “So, Lila and I got stuck in an endless timeline-hopping subway system for nearly seven years.”

Viktor laughed before he could stop himself.

“What?”

“Only you! Only you could answer ‘what’s been with you the past few days?’ with ‘Well it’s ACTUALLY been seven years.”

Five finally cracked a smile, albeit a sad one. “Yeah, I guess I can see how that could amuse you.”

“So how old does that make you now?”

He shrugged. “Seventy? Seventy-one? And god I feel so much older than that, Vik. I should have been annihilated in that Cleanse. I should be dead. I should have died so long ago.”

“Don’t talk like that.” He left Five to pick the conversation back up. He seemed to be composing his thoughts.

After another minute, he spoke. “I… know… what Delores was. I know it was all in my head. But she was all I had, and I needed her. I needed her there, loving me, so I loved her. Now, I find myself stranded in time again, but this time with a real human being by my side? A real… friend? I—.”

He broke off, but Viktor could fill in the rest. “Oh.”

“She belongs with Diego.” Five sat back up abruptly, voice harsh. “Not me. I don’t get to be loved. I don’t get to be happy. I am…fated to wander from universe to universe, alone. I can’t even get annihilated from existence properly!”

God. Dramatic, poetic Five. He was in rough shape. Tentatively, Viktor offered, “If it makes you feel any better, I’ve never managed to keep a single relationship for more than a month. And I lived a relatively…ordinary life. I just suck at relationships.”

Five looked up at Viktor from the corner of his eye, smiled from the corner of his mouth. “Don’t we all.”

“The only time I’ve ever felt truly loved was with Sissy.” Viktor poked him. “And somebody made me put an end to that.”

“Now, come on, we were—.”

“I know, I know, we were in the wrong time, it would have wrecked the timeline. It DID wreck the timeline. But still, I’m just saying.”

“So, what, we can start a ‘The Only Person Who Ever Loved Me was an Already Married Woman’ support group?”

“I bet they have one of those here. Along with their ‘I Have Caused Not One But Multiple Apocalypses’ group.”

Five actually laughed— short, subdued, but a laugh nonetheless. “I’ve missed you, Vik.”

“I’ve missed you, too.” Viktor squeezed his knee. “Anyway, you’re not alone, and you’re not unloved. Maybe not in a romantic way. But we do love you, and you do deserve to be happy.”

Five rolled his eyes. “I spent 45 years longing for nothing more than to get back to my family, the people I loved, and when I did, what did I get? Not again, Five, stop harshing the vibe, Five, why can’t you FIX this, Five, are you sure you’re not just batshit, Five? I love my family more than life itself, but they sure don’t love me.”

“We do—!” Viktor caught himself. Tried to see it from Five’s point of view. Realized he’d barely seemed to notice he was talking to one of his family. It felt like a revelation. Melanie would be proud. Viktor gave Five a gentle, sheepish smile. “Okay, when I said I suck at relationships, I don’t just mean romantically. I love you as a feeling, I’ll have to work on loving you as a verb.”

Five echoed Viktor’s smile. “What happened to us, me and you? When we were kids I could talk to you about anything…everything. I spent decades longing to talk to you, and then—there we were in the same timeline again and yet we’ve barely spoken in thirteen years.”

Viktor ducked his head, tutting. “Well, every time you tried to talk to me I brushed you off, and then I ran away to Nova Scotia for six years. And …you, apparently, got lost in an interdimensional subway system for seven more.”

“Intertemporal, not interdimensional. Cary—Dr. Loudermilk— and I have been trying to map out the different subsets of the multiverse and it’s a lot more comple— see, you’re laughing at me!”

“Just because I’m laughing doesn’t mean I’m not listening! I promise. I’m just laughing because…you’re so YOU. I’ve missed you, too. And I do love you. As bad as I am at it.” He bit his lip. “I’m sorry. For not being who you needed me to be. Melanie says— she says I need to work on my anger issues, that I’m too prone to vengeance. That my subconscious need for payback is too liable to slip out with my powers. Like the time I attacked Allison’s voice box for Rumoring me. Payback, you know. And I— I’ve been mad at you for leaving me for so long— so this time I ran off first. Payback.”

“Yeah, but sometimes you’re right. Like how determined you were to save Ben, bring him back, save the world.”

“Only because he saved me to save the world, first. Payback, Just more positive.”

Five gazed at him, steadily, thoughtfully. “Viktor, I’m proud of you. You’ve been making progress with this stuff all along, years before we got here. I remember wishing you had the guts to stand up for yourself just enough to claim the last doughnut.”

“Thanks. And you’ve got— you’ve got a lot of shit to work through, still, and you haven’t really had the chance to make progress. But just knowing you need to is a good start. I believe in you. And I promise, from now on, I will always listen, whatever you need to work through.”

“Thanks to you, too. I guess…I guess I feel just a smidge more hopeful now.”

“So, that girl who’s always hanging around Dr. Loudermilk….”

“Who, Kerry? They’re, like, symbiotes or something.”

“She’s technically his age, right? And that’s about the same age as you?”

“Yes?”

“And yet she also looks like she’s in her twenties. Like you.”

“Uh…huh?”

“I’ve also heard that she’s been known to leave dozens of bodies in her wake.”

“So what are you…? OH. Nah. No. Stop. She’s also off her rocker.”

“Says the man who fell in love with Lila,” he teased, gently.

“Kerry has the emotional maturity of a thirteen-year-old.”

“Says the man who lost contact with all humanity at the age of thirteen!”

“Viktor!” Five laughed. “You are not helping!”

“I am SO helping! This is the first I’ve heard you laugh in days! Or maybe years, on your end!”

Five’s laughed whined to a pause, and he dropped his head on Viktor’s shoulder. “We are so fucked up.”

“Yeah.” Viktor held him, rocking slightly. “But I don’t know, this Summerland— I think here we might actually get better.”

[its-all-papaya]

🛒 grocery list - please tell us more about how it feels to write max f and his friendship with lando !

LMAO UM. i think the last time i went grocery shopping for real (not just buying coffee creamer, milk, protein bars, gatorade, and red bull/celsius/alani) was like... may? i wish i was kidding. anyway, gonna do that this weekend now that i have a list !

assign me a chore!!

how does it feel to write max f?!!!! scary. i'm in @peargcsly's pm's every evening freaking tf out about him because i'm afraid i'm not doing him and their relationship justice.

that being said ! i looooove him. i'm obsessed with him. if you're in my inbox here you've probably (maybe?) read my other fics and know that i'm notoriously rlly rlly bad at writing in any characters outside of the literal two ppl involved in the ship. i knew off the bat i was going to include a lot of max f in dad lando for practical and like... emotional foil reasons, and i was scared of it (still am) bc i just don't write a lot of side characters. but surprise! i am having the BEST time with their relationship! it's just sooooo soft. as i said in a previous ask or maybe a pm to a mutual(?), max f was always going to be part of this fic bc i cannot imagine a single universe in which lando norris goes through a hard thing and max fewtrell is not there to cheerlead him and remind him what's what. there's a joke in chapter one about ppl thinking lando and max are dating, but unironically, it feels sometimes like writing a ship bc of how much they love each other in this. max just knows lando so thoroughly and loves him and emma so unconditionally. he was there when she was born, and he's been there since, and he's watched lando change and grow in good ways and bad, so he's really instrumental in moving my silly little plot along. there are so many interesting dynamics in this to me (lando/oscar, lando/emma, lando/max, emma/max, eventually oscar/emma), and i think that's what's making it such an enjoyable experience to me. it really feels like i'm building a little world to swim around in, and max is a big part of that bc he's the main through-line in all the stages of lando's life that have brought him to where we encounter him in this fic.

i feel like i'm not even expressing thoroughly enough how DEEPLY soft and gooey i feel about the nortrell in this so uh. have a snippet of My Boys and cry w me maybe:

“Oi,” Lando turns the burner off and sets the pan to cool as he fetches plates from the cabinet, “Not all of us have personal chefs to meal plan for us, mate.”

“I don’t know, both of us on this call do, right, Em?”

“Right!” Emma echoes. Lando doubts she really understands the joke, but there’s hardly anything Max can say that she won’t immediately agree with. It’s not really her fault, she’s got Lando’s own genes, after all.

“Uncle Max, when are you gonna come see me?” she adds when neither of the adults immediately fill the next silence.

The food’s ready, so Lando props his hip against the island and watches Emma as she stares at his phone, even though the screen’s black.

“Oh, soon,” Max doesn’t really make empty promises to her, so she grins at the answer. “I’m back near you this week, we can probably hang out really soon actually. Can I talk to Daddy so we can figure it out?”

“Yes,” she agrees. When she looks up to see him at the counter and not the stove, she pushes back up to her feet to hand the phone back off.

“Thank you, love,” Max says, “I love you, talk to you soon, okay?”

“Okay. Love you too,” she answers.

Lando is mostly used to it, but it still hits sometimes – Max calling him Daddy and the soft way he cares for Emma, like there’s no other option. Lando kind of thinks there hadn’t ever been, for Max; he’d looked at Lando, curled silent on the floor of his bedroom and fighting tears instead of actually breaking the news to his best friend, and said “whatever it is, mate, it’s going to be okay and I’m going to be there to help you with it.”

“Hey,” Lando switches speaker back off and pins his phone between his ear and his shoulder, “how was your holiday?”

[wedriftlikelonelyplanets]

🍓🧃🧸🪲

🍓 - How did you get into writing fanfiction?

ALRIGHT SO I've been involved in the online RP community since I was like 15-ish...i think? Anyhow, I've been writing for literal years. I am, however, incredibly self-conscious about my own writing. I've dwelled in many a fandom space as well, honestly.

After getting into F1, I've felt like I've been kinda on the outskirts of a community I really love (not on the outskirts for a negative reason, I'm just incredibly shy and worry that I'm annoying), and it's given me kinda...I guess a little burst of confidence. I wrote my first fic after the Hungarian Grand Prix of this year because there was just...something SO COMPELLING about the dynamic between Lando and Oscar during/after that race. Since THEN I haven't been able to stop, and I've really been loving being a part of this community.

That, and the fact that the stuff that I've written has been so well received has made me more comfortable to continue writing within a fandom space.

🧃 - Share some personal lore you've never shared before

OKAY WELL THEN...Idk there's a lot I blab about on the internet so I've gotta think about this one.

I have what is probably undiagnosed hEDS (hypermobile ehlers-danlos syndrome), and likely never will be diagnosed because I'm a fat, female presenting woman. This means I experience a lot of chronic pain, and actually deal with regular shoulder subluxations that put a damper in my ability to do my job sometimes

Despite being an elder emo, I've never actually been to a music festival, despite my longing and desire. This is primarily in part due to the fact that I live in a small city in Canada that doesn't really get a lot of fun music in general

I blab about this a lot, but I'm a Registered Veterinary Technologist, and have been for 5 years, and I'm likely going back to school to actually become a vet, because I finally found a clinic that makes me love my job again!!

🧸 - what's the fastest way to become mutuals with me?

UH GREAT QUESTION. I guess interact with me, chat with me, my askbox AND my messages are always open. I don't specifically mean you need to like and comment on my fics, but like...interact with my content. I love to yap, give advice, and just chat. I've dealt with a sudden influx of followers since starting to write fanfic (this is not said to sound vain), and I feel like I can no longer just follow people willy-nilly anymore. Honestly I often do click through to the blogs of new followers, but I sometimes just get overwhelmed.

Hell, even if you just message me and are like "this song made me think of x, y and z" i'd love you forever.

And interact of anon. I love all of you darling anonymous folks that come into my ask box but i want to stroke your faces lovingly and reblog things from your tumblrs and I can't do that when I don't know who you are.

🐞 - Using this in place of the other beetle BECAUSE IT DOESN'T WORK ON MY PC but - Write 50 words for your current work in progress and then post that paragraph here

I see what you're doing, anon, keeping me on task and also getting some snippets out of me...(such a mean trick to play...jk)

“More?” Lando asks, and Oscar shakes his head. Lando places the mug back on the tray, reaches out to brush Oscar’s hair back from his face again, fingers catching in the tangled strands. Oscar leans into the touch, presses his cheek against Lando’s palm, presses a kiss to the inside of his wrist where he can reach it. Just a brush of his lips, softer than soft. It should feel infantilizing, to be cared for like this, but it soothes the part of him that makes him feel like he always has to be calm and collected, always in control

THIS IS MORE THAN 50 WORDS, MERRY CHRISTMAS.

[cal-daisies-and-briars]

Gonna be SO honest, i've stopped reading most of the snippets you post, especially for the fics i'm most excited about, bc i don't wanna spoil myself too much and i prefer waiting for the actual update, HOWEVER i think i'm doing all of us a favor by doing this

🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸

Thanks a million and happy writing!💕

That is so so fair! Some of them have been quite spoilery.

BUT THANK YOU!

Here are 75 new sentences for vamp!Eddie:

---

Buck doesn’t sleep well. 

It’s not just readjusting to his old friend, the Diaz couch. Though that proves uncomfortable. Largely, it’s any noise, insignificant or not, that rips him from any small sleep he manages to find. Sophia getting up to use the washroom. Eddie shifting in bed. The buzz of the fridge from the kitchen. A car rolling down the street outside the house. 

Last time Eddie was under this roof, vulnerable, Buck had slept too soundly. 

This time, fearing he will evaporate like smoke and be gone by sunrise, Buck hardly sleeps at all. 

He wakes early, with the sun. He cracks open Eddie’s door ever so slightly, just to confirm he’s still there. Real, not a phantom. Not a wish so frantically wanted, that his brain allowed him to slip into delusion. Eddie lays very still under the covers. Breathing a touch rigid. He’s real. He’s changed, but he’s real. 

Buck does something he has rare occasions for these days. Something he needs to get back into the habit of, with Chris coming home. While the Diazes sleep, he cooks a full breakfast. Eggs, bacon, pancakes. He uses the good coffee beans, even. All the stops. They have a hard conversation ahead of them, today. One that won’t be made easier by an unsatisfied stomach. And, besides, who knows how long it’s been since Eddie had a good meal. He’s looking a little haggard. 

Cooking rouses Eddie and Sophia within minutes. Typical. Both of them. And Chris. All drawn to the smell of pancakes like beagles. He’d put on Adriana being the same way, even though he has only met her briefly, on two occasions, in 2019. 

“Morning,” Buck says to Eddie, who emerges first. “Sleep okay?”

He pretends that seeing him, walking towards him, doesn’t make his knees shake. 

Eddie nods. “Yeah. I was really tired.”

“I’ll bet,” Buck replies gently, ignoring the heaviness behind his own eyes. 

Buck grabs a mug and reaches for the coffee pot when Eddie stops him.

“No coffee, please. Do you have tea? Herbal?”

Buck looks at him like he’s an alien. 

Eddie’s lips quirk. “Caffeine has no effect. Uh, and it doesn’t actually taste that fantastic when you aren’t dependent.”

Buck blinks. “I didn’t know that.”

“Why would you?” Eddie asks. 

Well, because Buck has made it his mission to know everything. 

He shrugs, instead of saying so. “Lemon ginger okay? Or, I think Soph has cinnamon.”

“Oh, ginger please.”

“Okay,” Buck mumbles, then reaches for the electric kettle. 

“Sorry,” Eddie says quietly, as Buck fills it with water.

“For what?” Buck asks.

“Um…” Eddie struggles for an answer. “Not being the same, I guess.” 

“That’s hardly your fault.” Buck says. But he doesn’t look at Eddie as he says it. Instead, he searches the cupboards for tea. “You’ll still eat my pancakes though? I know you need to eat.”

“It’s food or the other thing,” Eddie says. “So, yes to pancakes.”

“Does it taste the same?” Buck asks.

“No.” 

Buck’s stomach twists. “Sorry. That sucks.”

“Not bad. Just different. Each ingredient is a bit stronger. More separate.”

“I think that’s how dogs experience smell,” Buck muses.

Eddie snorts. “So I’m like a dog?”