#i could write that fic better now

[allsassnoclass]

1, 7, and 10 ?

:D

HI JESS!!!! :D

1. Which of your fics would you keep the basic plot of but rewrite completely? oooooo this is interesting.... oh wait it's probably Meet Me Under the Mistletoe. It's not a bad fic, but it's definitely not my strongest, which makes sense given that i wrote it over 3 years ago and i've grown a lot as a writer. Plus, it was my longest 5sos fic at the time and i rushed it because i wanted to get it out for christmas. it's fake dating so i'm not mad at the plot or anything, but the writing itself could use some work and i could write it a lot better now.

7. Your favourite ao3 tag. i really like fun, fandom-specific ones!!! "no beta we die like [insert dead character from the fandom]" is one that i like just because it feels like a little community inside joke, except the community is the entire fandom side of the internet. other ones that come to mind are "Christopher Diaz has Two Dads" from the 911 fandom and "Good Babysitter Steve Harrington" from Stranger Things, just as examples of two fandom-specific ones that have been standardized due to enough people utilizing them. i like seeing what trends are prevalent in each fandom's fanfics based on what ao3 tags are often used! i find it fun!

10. Top three favourite fic tropes. oh you KNOW that fake dating is coming up at number one! i go hog wild for fake dating stories. that's the favorite trope of all time for me. more a general trope than specifically a fic trope, but found family is another one that i absolutely love. give me a group of people who form an unbreakable bond of love and trust and deep, profound friendship! if it's a romance fic i hope that friendship still has a big place in it (especially for 5sos if it isn't a romantic ot4). for the third one, let's say hurt/comfort. i've been really liking that trope lately!

[crybaby-bkg]

Trainer Bakugou who you're a little terrified of the first day you're paired with him. when asking for a trainer at the gym, you had expected the friendly redhead who always looked so sweet and encouraging and cut as hell. you weren't expecting his grumpy looking blond counterpart, who was all glares and shouts for his clients to keep pushing themselves.

you were hesitant at first, before you quickly realized that it was all a ruse, for the most part. he pushed those who needed that extra encouragement, but was more lenient to people like you who simply wanted a professionals guidance. so, after a few weeks, you liked him for the most part, and his looks damn sure made it easier to cozy up to the big guy.

the only issue you've been having with Bakugou though are the...coregasms, as you've seen them been named on social media, that you keep experiencing. the first time, you weren't sure what it was, why your stomach and pelvis kept tightening up. you couldn't have...climaxed, or anything. you hadn't even been touched!

but, as the weeks go by, and the workouts get more strenuous, they've become harder and harder to subside and ignore, and so had Bakugou's commands to keep going when you suddenly stopped. you can only lie and say its cramps so many times before he realizes that something is up.

you're midway through a good morning, when that familiar feeling starts tightening in the pit of your gut. you clench your eyes shut, shaking your head a little, as if you could ward off the impending feeling. bakugou notices though, frowning at your almost pained expression in the mirror, walking up behind you to stop you as you pull yourself back up. his hands are on your waist, and as you come up, you feel his bulge glide over the curve of your ass, and something in you snaps.

you gasp, buckling over, one hand on your knee as the other reaches back for bakugou's hand to keep you up as your thighs shake. you can feel yourself spasming, clenching and unclenching around nothing, secretly wishing you had something that could fill you up, something that you felt throb against you as bakugou leaned over your form.

"Another coregasm, huh?" he asks you lowly, his lips brushing your ear as you bite your bottom lip to hold back your moan. your eyes buck open though, when his words sink in, head tipping back to look at him in the mirror, only to find his gaze already on you.

"You knew every time?" you ask quietly, panting now that its finally starting to pass over you. but bakugou doesn't let you up from this position, especially since the area you're in seems to be desolate for now.

"It's hard to ignore how pretty you look when you cum, sweetheart." Bakugou seals his words with a firm press to your ass, his cock rubbing the seam, and you can practically feel the heat and veins of it through your thin bottoms. you groan under your breath, getting lost in the feeling of him grinding against you, when he suddenly speaks again.

"You still feel it?" he asks, voice low as he looks at you through his lashes. you nod, biting at your bottom lip as you meet the steady rock of his hips, watching how he smiles before slotting his lips against your ear.

"Want me to help make it go away?" and he does, in the employee locker room after hours. he makes it go away, and rebuild, and go away again and again until you're hoarse and your legs are weaker than they typically are on leg day. bakugou helps the ache go away, but not for that sweet redheaded coworker of his, whose fists have fucked his cock the entire time of watching bakugou rail you over the locker room bench again and again.

[purpleshadow-star]

Imagine if Nico could learn to control when he turns into shadows.

Like, in The Blood of Olympus Nico would start fading after shadow traveling too much, and sometimes Reyna and Coach Hedge wouldn't be able to touch him, and one time he even accidentally walked through a tree. Imagine if he learned to control that intangibility.

Imagine if he could just turn parts of his body into shadows. Imagine if, in a fight, someone swings at him, and he knows he can't dodge in time, so he turns into shadows for a second so the weapon goes right through him, and while his enemy is confused he uses the distraction to land the final blow.

Imagine if he could just walk/reach through walls and doors and stuff.

I just think that, for someone with the title of ghost king (and as a child of the Underworld), he deserves more ghost-like powers.

[walkingstackofbooks]

The Garashir wedding: Lower Decks style

Mariner's called into her mom's office. Freeman informs her that something very special but currently classified is going to be happening in the next week, and she knows Mariner is going on leave tomorrow, but she might want to consider postponing it. Mariner declines - "Nah, my thing is more important".

Mariner and Rutherford are left at the space station to go on leave. It transpires that Mariner has been invited to Julian's wedding, and taking Rutherford as her plus one because Julian Bashir is one of his heroes. (augment-cyborg solidarity, anyone?)

Boimler, Tendi and T'Lyn are all trying to find out what the mission they're being sent on is. Boimler reports that Shakx seems pretty unhappy. Tendi suggests it's just because T'Ana has apparently discovered a drink she prefers more than Bajoran springwine.

Mariner and Rutherford encounter Hijinks and Troubles as they try to hitchhike their way to the wedding.

Freeman is stressing over what to wear for the occasion and has dragged Ransom in. Dress uniform, obviously, but can she get away with accessorising a little? And if so, how? She doesn't want to be a regular Starfleet officer, she wants to be a cool Starfleet officer. ("I literally cannot help you I don't even know what we're doing because you STILL haven't TOLD me." "It's classified." "You told Shakx!" "Have you tried keeping a secret from Shakx? He's terrifying!" "I can be terrifying!" "Nice try, Jack... Is a scarf too much do you think?")

Mariner and Rutherford have managed to trade his engineering abilities in exchange for passage on a merchant ship. Unfortunately, he is too good, and the ship now want to keep him.

Boimler is on navigation. They're approaching their destination but Freeman still wants the information to be known only to Bridge crew for as long as possible. (Boimler: "But what are we doing on--" Freeman: "Shh. Even the walls have ears, you know.")

The merchant ship have arrived and reluctantly agree to let Mariner and Rutherford go. They change into their fancy wedding stuff ready to be transported down. They are in the middle of a desert. "Screw you!" Mariner shouts uselessly at the sky.

Boimler is in the mess with Tendi and T'Lyn. Boimler is sweating profusely and tapping anxiously on the table. He cannot keep a secret this big. Tendi looks at him curiously. "Why do you keep tapping out "Cardassia" in Morse Code?" she asks, just at the moment when the room has gone silent. All eyes are on Boimler.

Mariner and Rutherford are hot, sweaty, bedraggled and exhausted. The doorkeeper reluctantly lets them in. "It's just started," he says. They sit down quietly in the back. Rutherford think his UT is playing up. "Did they just wish them many happy arguments?" he whispers.

Captain Freeman is nervously playing with her red scarf. "I wouldn't wear that if I were you," Ransom says. "I hear his reputation is quite formidable." Someone gestures that she's up.

We see her begin to walk out, and begin the "Since the days of the first wooden vessels, all shipmasters have had one happy privilege..." speech. The happy couple have their backs to us, and are silhouetted.

The camera zooms further back, and we are now at the back of the building. "Mom?" Mariner whispers to Rutherford.

We finally get to see the couple's faces as the camera pans back to Freeman and looks over her shoulder. Julian and Garak are facing each other. "...Of course, the legal part of this marriage has just been taken care of by the Cardassians -- but it is my privilege to bring this very human tradition to a Cardassian wedding ceremony and tell you that, Julian, you may kiss your husband."

Garak and Julian smile at each other, but the camera cuts away to the crowd. Federation guests are clapping and cheering; the Cardassians tend to be trying to avoid eye contact with anyone else in their vicinity.

We cut to the reception. Mariner's asking Julian "It all seemed so... Federation? Even the Cardassian bit?" Julian shrugs. "When you end up making every compromise in the book in the name of interstellar relations, it turns out all you get is a nondescript, bureaucratic service." He winks. "This is going to be when the fun starts."

Garak is complimenting Freeman on her scarf, and we can see in her face that she is totally lording it over Jack. Garak returns to his husband. "But you hated that scarf?" whispers Julian. "The things I do for diplomacy," replied Garak sorrowfully.

T'Ana is downing Kanar like it's nothing in the background to Shakx's distinct disapproval.

Mariner's managed to sneak Boimler, Tendi and T'Lyn into the party. "I can't believe we could have just come on the Cerritos," she moans, "but anyway, go wild."

Of course, her deeply uncool friends go wild by fangirling over their DS9 idols. At the end of that montage, Rutherford finally gets the chance to say "Thankyouforallyou'vedonefortheaugmentcommunityDoctorBashir". It's sweet.

Aaand endings are hard so sorry, I don't have one to neatly wrap this all up 😅 I will leave it to your wonderful imaginations.

[decarbry]

From the Kurogiri’s meditating post- nice to see him and Yabureme getting along better!

[jazzfordshire]

I’d like to imagine Lena has really minute knowledge about menswear tailoring because she likes to look at women in masc clothes. And Kara gets to reap the benefit of her knowledge

And Lena gets to reap the benefit of Kara looking really really good in suits

Honestly I often meditate on the image of Lena circling Kara in a high-end tailor’s shop, adjusting pin placement and brushing lint away and deciding on shirt colour while using it as an excuse to feel Kara up a little

[c2-eh]

strayed red strings on ao3

hanahaki disease series, charles leclerc/carlos sainz jr, 24.7k, completed. posted in 2022, edited in 2024

part 1 - you made flowers grow in my lungs; charles' pov, 12.1k, M

Charles' eyes water from the force of his coughing and gagging. He tried to supress it, but to no avail. His throat was hurting so, so much. If Charles were to explain the pain, he’d say it felt as if somone put embers in it. Hot, scratching and burning his throat. His hands were clutching the sink of his bathroom, while he tried to breathe through his nose. This was getting harder each day and he hasn’t even reached the last stage. Or: Charles has Hanahaki disease and tries to deal with it without telling Carlos.

part 2 - a bouquet of unsaid i love yous; post hanahaki, carlos' pov, 12.6k, E

Carlos loved flowers, always found them beautiful when he was younger. He was the kind of guy to buy flowers for his mom, sisters or his significant other just to see a smile blossom on their faces the same way those flowers did. It probably came from the times when he was a little kid – growing up, he usually saw his father giving flowers to his mom, whether it was on some special occasion, or it was just ordinary day and he wanted to show his love to her. However, Carlos hates flowers now.

[coffeebanana]

i love how optimistic i am when outlining long fics it's like "oh wow if i just plan this all out and then Follow. The. Plan!! it will totally be SO EASY. i mean i can have it all done so quickly!"

...ignoring the fact that this has never once happened 😂

[tragicotps]

Young Masriel au [part 7: making up]: in which Asriel has a hard time slipping away from the dinner table unnoticed to meet with Marisa alone. During their time together, Marisa is caught off guard by an unexpected confession and lies awake for hours after, thinking about what this means for them. It's obvious she's still angry about their sparring match at the dinner table, but he knows her well enough to see most of it is just show. She enjoys fighting with him just as much as he does, though it's a fine line they're walking. Carefully avoiding the topic of daemon separation or witches, they easily fall back into their usual banter, which soon evolves into more interesting activities. When she of course brings it up again, the word slips out of him without hesitation. Judging by the look on her face, it was the last thing she expected to come out of his mouth. The confession might've irrevocably changed something between them but he can't bring himself to care at this point.

(part 1/ part 2/ part 3/ part 4/ part 5/ part 6)

[candyriku]

AUs are so fun. like put your guys in another situation! a different world! give them new powers! make them vampires. anything. your little guys can be anything anywhere. it's amazing.

[bolithesenate]

oh gods it is way too early in the morning for me to be awake (on a saturday no less) but i just downloaded another plunny from The Aether TM and it seems Mines relevant enough that yall might enjoy

for Reasons everyone in Dooku's familie dies when he's still a teen (Jenza maybe only in a coma or smt) and he HAS to take over (also for Reasons)

only. he has no clue.

the only thing he DOES know is that a ruler needs lackeys. loyal officers. something like that (sifo had him watch a period drama the week before, it left an impression)

so he recruits the only people he can think of as his definitely-not-jedi-padawan certainly-loyal-to-a-fault goons: Sifo-Dyas, Jocasta Nu, Lorian Nod and Arath Tarrex (well, Arath just kinda inserted himself there but Dooku can see the merits of having someone who's more of an asshole than him close by. Makes him look bettter, and that's what this all is about, no?)

cue a LOT of shenanigans where five jedi-raised teens suddenly take over a planet's government and proceed to do politics with, like, medium success

at most

but a lot of violence (mostly on Arath's part, he kinda just attracts explosions) to make up for it

oh but they found the dragon in the basement, so that's fun (the serennians are horrified)

[flowercrowngods]

in which eddie is semi-nonverbal and steve notices despite eddie’s best efforts. cuddles ensue | 1.8k

They’re hanging out at Eddie’s, just the two of them, when Steve notices it for the first time. He’s not known as the most perceptive guy ever, but he’s actually rather good at these things. And he’s starting to get good at getting a feel for Eddie, too, even though it’s made harder by his dramatics and his flourishes and all those exaggerated gestures, mimics and mood swings. Eddie is fluent in all things sarcasm and drama, both of which Steve had issues reading in the beginning but is now pretty good with.

After fighting an interdimensional monster wizard creep, nearly dying a few times and spending time together almost every day because we stick together now, Steve knows Eddie.

He’s not sure if they’re friends, exactly, but that doesn’t really stop him from knowing all of his tones, his moods, and even most of his music these days. Steve just watches. Listens. Remembers. He’s shit at talking about himself much around anyone but Robin, but he always makes a point of knowing as much as he can about his friends. And Eddie.

Which is why the sudden strain in Eddie’s voice catches him off guard. It’s not the I didn’t get any sleep last night because all I can think of is how I almost died kinda strain. Nor is it the It’s 5pm and I haven’t eaten yet and I don’t want you to find out kind. Steve still makes sure to make them sandwiches as he listens to Eddie rambling off about something or other.

And that’s the thing. Steve listens. He always does, but Eddie is rambling. And he sounds almost miserable about it. The words don’t make sense, they lack their usual enthusiasm when Eddie talks DnD or music — which, he’s doing both? There’s no connection. And when Steve turns around, sandwiches secondary to that fucking strain in Eddie’s voice, he sees that his eyes are dull. The smile forced. And he keeps talking even though his tone indicates that he’s done.

Steve frowns slightly and watches Eddie, who’s walking mindlessly, aimlessly, pacing and stopping every few seconds, looking a little lost every time he does.

The thing is, there is no reason for Eddie to talk. No point to his words. No calculation in his movement, no burning off of excess energy, no kick in his step, no stomp for emphasis.

Steve notices. He sees. He listens. And thinking back, Eddie’s reaction time to just about anything Steve said today was either close to nothing, or very delayed.

It dawns on him then, as he looks Eddie up and down, noticing the fidgeting hands, the tense shoulders, the stiff grimace of a smile. It dawns on him because he knows this look, this behaviour. Not exactly like this, but close.

He has a hunch and hopes that whatever they have built over the past weeks is strong enough for Eddie not to freak out on him over this.

“Eddie,” Steve interrupts him, and it shouldn’t be this easy. It wouldn’t be, normally, but today Eddie just shuts up immediately, mouth closed, eyes on Steve.

“Yeah?” Four seconds. That’s how long that word took.

Steve hopes the expression on his face is kind, not patronising. “You know you don’t have to do this, right?”

Eddie blinks. Swallows. Two, three, four. “Do what, Steve?” And immediately he is defensive, taking on an act because maybe that’s makes this easier for him, but even his performance is strained.

“You don’t have to talk all the time,” he says, and only realises once the words have left his mouth that they sound wrong, like he’s annoyed with Eddie’s constant babbling and needs some silence. Which he doesn’t.

Eddie scoffs before he can take it back. He scoffs, spins in a circle and sighs deeply, expertly bridging the four seconds it takes him once again to open his mouth and speak.

“Oh, that’s new! That’s new, Harrington, I’ve never heard that one before. What’s next, you gonna call me a Freak? Maybe tell me the bands I listen to aren’t music? Really sorry, man, and I hate to break it to you, but if you wanna hang out with someone who doesn’t ‘have to talk all the time’, I’m not your man!”

Even the anger seems dull, the little speech far from what it could have been, like Eddie’s brain isn’t quite there, like it doesn’t work today, like the words just won’t come and decide to leave him hanging with his failed dramatics.

Still, Steve approaches him slowly, his hands raised in a placating motion. “That’s not what I meant, and I’m sorry it came out wrong, Eds. I don’t mind your talking, you gotta believe me. But…”

How does he say this next part, this next assumption, without accidentally insulting Eddie again? Without sounding like a complete and total jackass?

“You know El, right? The one with the superpowers?”

Eddie nods.

“Well, when she came to us, she could, like, barely talk. Her vocabulary wasn’t there yet, sure, but that’s not the only reason. And now she’s made wonderful progress and her vocabulary is pretty decent, but still she gets those days where she just… She can’t talk. Or won’t. Maybe both. Sometimes both, yeah. And on some days she will, like, force herself. But I can tell when she does because she’s miserable about it and it sounds like hard labour and she’s always on the verge of tears about it. And… I don’t know, Eds, but you kinda look a lot like her now, and even if you don’t, which is fine, sorry for bringing that up, but even if you don’t have days like that, just know that you don’t always have to talk, yeah? One way or another, there’s not a price you have to pay in stories or running commentary just to be part of the group. You could never talk ever again and we’d still stick together, yeah? That’s what I meant. Sorry if that’s a jackass kinda thing to say.”

Steve hates how he’s always out there fumbling for words and can never get them to sound right. Especially now, when he needs Eddie to understand. He always needs Eddie to understand. It’s a bit of an urge lately. He just wants him to feel safe.

It’s more than four seconds now, and Steve stops counting at ten, acutely aware of the silence this time. He lets Eddie have his silence, though, leaves him room inside it.

“That’s not a jackass kinda thing to say, Steve Harrington,” Eddie says, and Steve swears he has never heard his voice in such a quiet, vulnerable tone. The quiet always helps El, too. Make all those words she can’t say a little less loud and imposing, make it all a little more okay. Not so scary.

“Good,” Steve whispers, and maybe that’s one step too far, but Eddie sags a little bit and for a moment Steve fears that he’s about to sway forward. Not that he wouldn’t catch Eddie.

“What do… How. Do you help El through it?” Small, vulnerable, confused, and Steve heart breaks a little for him.

“I do,” he says, equally quiet, smile on his face. “We always lie down somewhere because you only have to talk when you sit or stand, right? Lying down, no one can make you talk. So we lie down, she’s usually resting on top of me, and either I talk to her about, well… Anything, really. Or I shut up. Sometimes there’s music. Really, there’s many ways to get through it, but the main two things are lying down and not talking on her part, y’know?”

And the way Eddie looks at him makes Steve think that maybe they are friends, because you don’t let just anyone see you this vulnerable. You don’t look at just anyone with your big brown doe eyes like they’re opening a whole new world for you.

“Sounds great,” he croaks and that tension is back in his shoulders, so obvious that Steve wants to reach out and massage it away.

He smiles and searches Eddie’s eyes, absolutely sure of the situation now, and maybe having a cure for it. “Eddie Munson, would you like to go lie down and not talk for a while?”

Eddie stares at him as though he’s calculating the risk, as though he’s weighing his options. He could still tell Steve to go and he’d be out of here in a heartbeat if being alone is what Eddie really needs. But then he nods.

“I think maybe I do, yeah.”

“With El, I only ask her yes or no questions. You can just nod or shake your head. Okay? Don’t know if that works for you but, well, we can find out I guess. Yeah?”

Eddie nods, and Steve smiles. He goes to the kitchen area to grab the sandwiches he made earlier and then lands back right before Eddie, smile still in place.

“Not to be weird or anything, but I think this might work best on your bed. Is that okay for you? If that’s not okay, we can just lie down on the couch.”

Eddie looks back to his room, then back at Steve. He nods.

“Your bed?” Steve asks again just to make sure, and Eddie nods again.

And this is how they find themselves lying on Eddie’s bed, Eddie’s head resting on Steve’s chest. His fingers find their way into the metalhead’s locks at some point and Eddie purrs, which makes Steve laugh for a moment. He doesn’t take his hand away, though.

Steve doesn’t talk like he does with El sometimes. With Eddie, he just basks in the silence and lets the other boy soak up as much of it as he needs. There’s a smile on his lips the whole time, and he didn’t think he could smile so much around Eddie Munson, especially on one of his bad days.

But he does.

They even fall asleep like that, Eddie lying on top of Steve, cuddling into him. Steve lets him. Even the next morning when they’re both awake but not willing to break the silence yet even though Eddie looks much better already, he doesn’t make any moves to get away from Steve. He stays there, head on his chest as they both just bask in the moment.

Bask in the company.

Bask on the threshold of something just to the right of friendship. Something more.

[adrift-in-thyme]

Woke up this morning and thought “you know what? This is an angsty Malink kinda day.”

This takes place shortly after the events of the latest lu update

Fic beneath the cut

--------------

The other side of the bed is empty.

Blinking open eyes blurred with sleep, Malon runs a hand over the cold sheets. She sighs.

“Oh, fairy boy.”

She should have known tonight would be one of those nights. After all, one doesn’t have to read minds to know something had happened between Link’s last letter and this visit. It’s written in the exhaustion glazing Hyrule’s eyes, the bags surrounding Twilight’s, in the way the captain seems much more tense than usual, in the near total absence of the vet’s teasing.

But most of all it’s written in the careful mask her husband has constructed, all steely determination and unwavering calm. That is the mask he has had to use for years to survive in a world too harsh, too cruel. And while it may work on acquaintances soon gone and demons lurking in shadows, it’s useless on her. She can see through it in a second.

Beneath that facade, her fairy boy is breaking. And she intends to find out why.

Carefully, Malon slips from bed. Fetching a shawl from the closet, she steps out of the bedroom.

On silent feet, she walks down the hallway, past the room where the boys are fast asleep. Their silent snores emanate from beneath the cracked door. A smile tugs at her lips as she pauses to peek inside.

They are gathered in the center of the room, a mass of blankets and pillows and limbs sticking out at odd angles from beneath them. And in the eye of this slumbering hurricane lies Twilight. His face is drawn with exhaustion, and much paler than it was the last time she saw him. Yet, in the embrace of his brothers, he looks peaceful.

Here he is safe.

Malon takes a moment to cement the sight in her mind, the sight of their boys at rest. Who knows how many times they have dreamt the same dreams as her husband has, visions of death and destruction, of friends leaving too soon, and enemies persisting. But for tonight they appear to be free from the tortures of nightmares. And for that she is glad.

Now, to find the one who was not so lucky.

Carefully, she shuts the door and heads into the kitchen. She passes through it, her shadow stretching long over cupboards and countertops, and keeps going. Out onto the front porch where mosquitoes and moths flit and the moon glistens above, out into the field beyond, her boots squishing in the soft, dewy earth.

He’s there when she arrives, right where she thought he would be. Link sits with his back to the bushes and fence, knees pulled up to his chest, eye staring dully ahead. Fairies flit about him, playing in his hair and zipping about his head, but he pays them no mind. And as soon as Malon comes into view, they scatter.

“Hey, fairy boy,” she murmurs, and he jolts from his thoughts to look up at her.

“Malon. I-I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to wake you.”

She settles down beside him and holds out a hand. He takes it, grasps it like she’s the only thing keeping him afloat.

“You know I can’t sleep when you’re gone,” she says, gently. “The bed gets all cold without you in it.”

She waits for the characteristic chuckle, the teasing reply. Neither comes. Instead, he shudders, curling in on himself further. Her heart breaks.

Malon scoots closer, pulling her shawl up over both of their shoulders. The night is cool and damp. Already she can feel the chill settling in her bones. But she pays it no mind.

“Tell me, Link. Tell me what’s wrong.”

He looks at her, and the markings on his face gleam in the darkness.

“I failed them.” It comes out as a hoarse whisper, as though speaking it causes him immeasurable pain. “I failed them, Malon.”

She reaches out and runs a hand over his cheek.

“Who?”

“The boys.” His face crumples, his defenses fall. “Our boys.”

There’s a long pause and Malon lets his words hang in the space it leaves. She won’t have to ask what he means, she won’t have to pry. The answers her mind begs for are coming, bubbling up like lava from beneath rock, desperate to be let loose.

They’ve done this dance so many times before. He will tell her everything if she lets him.

So, she draws him to her and she waits.

It doesn’t take long for him to speak once more.

“They trusted me,” he says, calloused hands clasped together as though in prayer.

(Perhaps he is praying, she thinks. Praying that the gods have mercy on him, just this once. Praying that they will allow him to rest. Hylia knows she begs for the same.)

“They trusted me to lead them, to protect them. But I couldn’t.” His voice breaks. “Malon, I nearly lost him. Twilight nearly died.”

And just like that everything clicks. The drawn faces and stumbling gates, the tension, the way Wild stuck so close to Twilight at dinner, the way the heroes are formed in a protective circle around him now – it all makes terrible sense now.

“Oh, Link.”

Malon swallows down the fear rising rapidly, forcing herself to ignore the way her heart skips a beat.

(She knew it. She knew this mission was too dangerous. Heroes are not indestructible, no matter their skill level.)

She can’t resist casting a glance over her shoulder at the house. It’s dark and quiet just as she left it.

“The Shadow is gone for now,” Link says, following her gaze. “And if he returns, we’ll know it. Twilight is safe.”

Malon looks back at him. She has half a mind to question how on earth he’s so certain the Shadow hasn’t already returned. But she trusts him and his intuition, even when he doesn’t trust himself.

So, instead, she asks, “When did this happen?”

“Last week.” Link reaches for her hand again, almost on reflex. “I wanted to write to you, but then I decided…I decided to wait.”

A tear trickles down his cheek, glimmering in the moonlight. Gently, Malon brushes it away.

“If he…if I lost him, I didn’t want to tell you that way. And if he lived, well…”

He trails off and Malon nods, understandingly. “You wanted to bring him here.”

“I couldn’t bring him back to his time,” he says, quietly. “But we got lucky. A portal brought us here and I thought, this is his home too.”

The last part comes out a bit uncertain, almost a question. Malon nods again.

“Of course, it is. We’re his family. Nothin’s gonna change that.”

Link is quiet for a long moment, gazing out over the darkened fields. When he speaks again, his voice is so hushed she can hardly hear it.

“He’s going to have to fight again, Malon. It’s in his blood. It’s his fate.” He turns to her, something like a plea in his eye. “I can’t hold him back from that.”

She shakes her head. Her own words from months ago flash in her mind, concerns and admonishments. What good had they done in the end?

Her knights in shining armor—stubbornly noble and terribly daring, every single one.

“No, you can’t.”

His expression shatters at the words he doubtless doesn't want to hear. And she doesn't want to speak them either, but she must. So when he tries to look away she brings a hand up, angling his face back toward hers.

“No matter how badly you want to stop him, he’ll walk his own path. Just look at who he comes from. I couldn’t get you to stop being you even if I tried.”

Link shakes his head. “But I'm one person, Malon. I can take care of myself. Those boys, though—I can’t protect them all. I can’t protect him.”

And I can’t protect you either, fairy boy. Though I wish I could.

Her voice is quiet when she speaks, like a whisper in the wind. “Then, you’re gonna have to let him go.”

He drags in a shaky breath, chokes on it. “I can’t lose him, Mal. I can’t lose any of them.”

She leans forward, pressing her forehead to his, and he leans into her touch. Their tears mingle as they fall, plunking onto his tunic and her dress, soaking into the blades of grass.

“I know,” she murmurs because there is nothing more she can say now. “I know.”

[glassknee]

Hmm do not get the hate towards people who enjoy fanon Alec when fanon Alec can pretty easily be understood as a version of Alec who reacts to trauma in a more typical straightforward way (the trauma itself is also often made straightforward) as a frustrated reaction to the way canon Alec’s trauma is consistently unaddressed and undermined or framed so he’s the perpetrator in the text and also as a result in the fandom. Like yes that is part of what adds a lot of nuance to canon Alec’s particular brand of trauma and therefor fanon Alec tends to be less nuanced in that particular regard but it is an understandable response to and interpretation of the character and treating it as some kind of moral failing is. Weird.

In terms of sexualizing the character, I think most people read worm when they were the same age as or a bit younger than the characters and I think that’s honestly the defining factor in how someone sees a character long term. Sometimes it shifts sometimes it doesn’t, sometimes they re read and have a new interpretation of the character but it overlays the first one. I do agree that if people were sexualizing the abuse he suffered as a kid that would be really not good but I’ve not seen anyone do that, just seen people portraying a hypersexual (more commonly just perceived as hypersexual) trauma response which is more straightforward and less nuanced than Alec’s actual canon trauma responses but not any sort of horrible bad take. I personally prefer canon Alec but appreciate and enjoy fanon Alec

[zukkaoru]

sits. hello grace. give me the top five fics ur most proud of

oh this is. so hard uhmm

1. (i am) the whisper of a memory - this has to be number 1. this is probably my favorite fic i've ever written. i don't want to spoil it but i made some risky stylistic choices and i think they really really paid off bc it turned out so good and i've had multiple people tell me it is THE megumi fic of all time and that is a badge i wear with great pride

2. the body i'm in - my akutagawa siblings character study fic!! also known as body dysmorphia: the fic. this fic was actually a really early idea i had shortly after i got into bsd so i'm proud that i not only managed to write it but also that i was happy with how it turned out after daydreaming about it for so long

3. alive & free (look at me!) - i've only had this fic finished for about a month but. wow. i really wrote 22k words about two characters i previously hardcore struggled with in one week. there's something so very wrong with me but at least it's mildly entertaining for a handful of people on the internet

4. the things all come and gone - my geto with sleep issues character study fic!! this got way longer than i expected but i think it turned out so well and i had so much fun writing it

5. this ultraviolet morning light - i think this one has to go on the list bc it's the longest fic i have published sitting at a pretty 86k words and i still can't believe i actually did that

honorable mentions: to know i am real (yuki & riko canon divergence au) brushed pink with false fire (utahime character study ft. shokohime) of all the stars, the fairest (mailee fake dating) a little bit of you & a little bit of me (modern au jinora character study)

[hekateinhell]

been mia for a while but that's because I finished my semester and then went straight to nola for halloween!

got to meet so many of my very best vampire friends plus a couple super cool tumblr people, which I totally did not expect!!!!!! I HAD SO MUCH FUN WITH YOU GUYS 🥹♥️

so deep in my vampire feelings right now idek how to process like how can I ever return to the real world?? I stayed in the french quarter! I visited anne's grave and also lafayette cemetery! I creeped on the houses on prytania street and tried to figure out which one would've been lestat's that armand watched over for half a century!