#i must free him from my WIP folder

[irraetional]

His geriatric swag vexes me

[the-blind-assassin-12]

Survivor Blues

DEAD WOOD: JOEL'S POV

A/N: After far too long, this one is back in action! I have missed writing this story so darn much and it feels great to be back with these characters. This interlude has been living in my wip folder for a damn year, and I am really exciting to finally be sharing it. It takes place immediately following the events of Part Five, and it marks the first time that we get to see things through Joel's eyes in this universe. (It also alludes to some things that I haven't expanded on within this story yet, but that I am so SO excited to.)

Series Masterlist

Word count: 4.4k

Warnings: language, mention of character death, loss, grief, trauma, brief description of injury, Ellie is a snarky teenager, PLOT SPOILERS FOR TLOU, feel free to message me if you have questions (it's actually a lot more hopeful than the title makes it sound)

Summary: Home from the supply run, Joel contemplates how far he's come since arriving in Jackson... and hopes that it will be the same for you. Tommy and Ellie - of course - have thoughts and opinions on things, too.

By the time Joel got home after a quick stop at the clinic, it was past seven, the house - and Ellie’s garage - both standing dark and empty against the beginnings of night. 

She must be out with friends. Good. 

It had taken a few years, but he was finally in a place where her absence didn’t immediately put him on edge. When they first settled into the house on Rancher Street, Joel would insist that Ellie stay at Tommy and Maria’s anytime he was gone overnight. Even the walls and the close knit community couldn’t fully satisfy that need to know that she was safe then. But now a note stuck to the refrigerator with a magnet telling him where she’d gone was more than sufficient. 

Which was exactly what he found when he entered the kitchen. Plucking the piece of paper from the fridge door and leaning against the counter, he read the girl’s hastily scrawled words. 

Joel, 

Not sure when you’re getting back but I might not be here when you do. Staying with some friends tonight and tomorrow. I’ll be home on Tuesday. Movie night - don’t forget!

-Ellie 

He chuckled to himself and shook his head. Like I’d ever forget movie night, kiddo. 

Getting that back - that time with her where they could just be a family, laughing together and watching some movie that was made fifteen years before she was born, that time that both of them desperately craved where they could put down all the things they carried and all the things they’d gone through even if only for 120 minutes at a time - that was a gift he would never take for granted. Her eventual forgiveness and understanding, once he’d finally explained his reasoning for the choices he made, was everything to Joel. And it was still fresh. The two of them were still awkwardly trying to find their way back to the kind of relationship they had before the lie came to light. But it was a chance that Joel never imagined he’d get, and it wasn’t one he would ever squander. 

He raised his hand to stick Ellie’s note back on the refrigerator door for now, but paused before using the same faded orange Longhorns magnet that she had used to secure it. Instead, he dug into his back pocket and pulled out a new one. Turning it over in his palm, Joel glanced down at the yellow letters spelling out Wyoming and remembered the look on your face when he handed you one identical to it that morning. 

It wasn’t really a smile, more like the framework of one, a hint of what it would look like fully fleshed out. It was different from the ones he’d seen you wear while working in the bakery or waving to someone on the street. Those were pleasantries that you were refamiliarizing yourself with. This one touched your eyes, softening them for a few seconds. It made Joel wonder what he unearthed with that small gesture - what part of your former life he’d been able to reach and awaken, at least partially. He didn’t bother with wondering what it meant that he’d taken an identical magnet for himself. 

With a sigh, he used the gas station souvenir to tack up Ellie’s note where he’d found it. Keeping his injured arm down at his side, he reached to open the cupboard next to the fridge and pulled down a glass and the bottle he kept there. He let out a grunt as he twisted the cap off, needing to use both hands to do so and being punished for the miniscule movement with a throb of discomfort through his bicep. Shit, that hurts. 

Though your work had held up just fine all the way back to Jackson, the wound had still garnered a hiss and a wince from the nurse on duty at the clinic. Using a cloth and clear grain alcohol, she’d carefully cleaned between and around the stitches, telling him that he was lucky he had someone with him who knew what they were doing, because the cut was deep and without closing it properly, he would have lost a lot more blood than he did. Slathering the area with an antiseptic cream, she re-wrapped his arm and sent him on his way, recommending that he not get the stitches wet for a good two days. 

Gonna have to stick my arm outta the shower I guess. First thing’s first, though. 

But before he could finish making himself a drink, he was interrupted by the call of his name. “Joel?” Tommy’s voice joined the stomp of his boots as he climbed the porch stairs and let himself through the front door. “Hey, Joel? Where-” 

I shoulda known he’d be over. 

Holly, the nurse at the clinic, was close friends with Maria. There was no way that she didn’t radio over to let Maria know that she’d just taken care of her brother-in-law. And that meant that Tommy knew, too. 

“Kitchen,” Joel answered, cutting his brother’s question short and reaching into the cupboard for a second glass. Setting it on the counter, he opened the freezer and scooped a few ice cubes into his palm before dividing them between the two tumblers. They clinked against the cut glass but fell silent as Joel poured a few fingers of whiskey in each, turning around in time to see Tommy appear in the doorway. “Hey, little brother.”

Tommy’s eyes were alert as he gave Joel the once over, his heightened focus settling on the bandage on his arm. “Shit, you alright? Holly said-” 

“M’fine, Tommy.” He picked up one of the glasses and handed it over, the younger man accepting it with visible relief. “Just a cut. Fell into some broken glass.”

Tommy raised one eyebrow. “You fell, huh?” 

Joel rolled his eyes with a gruff groan. “Couple’a infected caught us by surprise at the eye doctor. Nothin’ we couldn’t handle.” He leaned back against the counter and lifted his glass to his lips, taking a swig.

“Jesus.” Tommy took a drink, too, bending forward to rest his elbows on the island in the center of the kitchen. He set his glass down but kept his fingers around it, forehead furrowing as he spoke your name in the form of a question. “She’s alright, too? Holly didn’t say anything about-” 

Joel shook his head. “She’s fine, Tommy. Didn’t even have to stop at the clinic, so Holly didn’t see her.” He took another small drink, letting the rich amber liquid coat his tongue before swallowing. “She went straight back to her place from the stables.”

“Good.” Tommy nodded and blew out a breath, the last of the worry leaving his expression. “That’s good.” He cleared his throat and swirled the contents of his glass, watching the ice slide around the sides. “And uh… she did alright?” His eyes came back up then. “I mean, dealin’ with the infected and all?”  

Joel recalled the way you snapped immediately into action, shifting seamlessly from defense to attack, muscle memory taking over and guiding your blade exactly where it needed to go without hesitation. 

Alright’s an understatement. 

You’d had a moment of panic in the aftermath, but though Joel was certain that was what Tommy was asking about with the addition of “and all”, he decided not to consider it in his response. Your explanation was solid. No harm had been done, and he didn’t think it warranted mentioning. Nor did the fact that he had only been knocked through the glass display case because he’d glanced in your direction first to make sure you didn’t need help. 

We’re both fine. No point in worryin’ him over nothin’. She’s no more of a liability on a run than I am. She just… she needs time. Like we all did. 

“Yeah,” he answered, brows pinched together as he took another drink. He shrugged his bandaged arm out in front of him. “She even patched me up once we were in the clear.”

Tommy’s eyes widened. “Well, shit.” The tiniest twitch of his mustache gave away a hidden smirk, and he used the hand holding his glass to point at Joel. “You mean you actually let someone take care of you?” 

Joel rolled his eyes again. “Shut it, Tommy.” 

That got a laugh out of him, the younger man setting his glass on the island to lift both hands in a gesture of surrender. “I’m just messin’ with you, big brother.” He smiled, a smaller chuckle slipping through it as his hands dropped to the counter. “Really, though.” He nodded. “I’m glad you’re both okay.” 

“Yeah.” Your near-smile flashed in Joel’s memory again as his eyes shifted to the magnet on the refrigerator. “Me too.” The kitchen fell silent for a handful of seconds, both men finishing their drinks before Joel spoke again. “Hey, do… do you remember that time you gave me a hand takin’ down the old oak tree in the yard?” 

Tommy blinked, clearly surprised by the question, but didn’t ask why Joel had brought it up. Instead, he tilted his head, brow furrowed as he sorted through his memories. The moment he dug the right one from its hiding spot, his expression changed. The creases in his forehead smoothed out and gave way to curved lines around his mouth as he broke into a smile. 

“Yeah.” He let out a huff of laughter, hanging his head and letting it shake from side to side before lifting it again. When he did he was still smiling, though there was a bittersweet shadow behind it. I know. You miss her too. “I remember us catchin’ hell for it.” 

We sure did. Joel tipped the bottle to fill both glasses with a half measure, then screwed the cap back on and put the bottle back in the cabinet it came from. 

The tree in question had been Sarah’s favorite. A swing hung from one of its branches, and Joel had tacked scraps of wood into the trunk that she used as footholds to scamper up so she could sit in the Y-shaped split in the center. And though she was only seven at the time, she had put up quite a fight when it came to taking it down. Joel could still picture the determined scowl on her face as she sat against the trunk. She had her scrawny arms crossed over her chest as she informed her father and her uncle that she wouldn’t let them kill her tree. What she didn’t know was that the tree was diseased, and that if left alone, not only would it become a safety hazard, but it ran the risk of infecting other nearby trees. 

He matched Tommy’s smile. “That girl all but tied herself to that damn trunk.” Joel always had the suspicion that if she had the time and an accomplice to help her with the knots, she would have. “She could be persistent, huh?” 

Tommy hummed. “Wonder where she got that from. What is it they say about apples again?” He laughed, but then curiosity got the better of him. “What…” He coughed to clear his throat. “What made you think’a that?” 

I’m gettin’ to it. “You remember how I had to prove to her that the tree was sick? Took my pocket knife and scratched the bark so she could see it was already dyin’ underneath?” She had gasped when the scratch test revealed a grayish, ashy underlayer, her eyes going wide and her bottom lip quivering, tears threatening to spill as her outrage instantly turned to fear for the other trees in the yard. “I had to scrape ‘em all, show her the rest of ‘em were still green and alive, even though they all looked the same on the outside.”

Tommy’s eyes narrowed and he swallowed. “Yeah… Where you goin’ with this, Joel?” 

“I been thinkin’ about how it’s like that for people, too. It was like that for me. It was like that for me for a long time, Tommy.” Tilting the glass in his hand, he watched the amber liquid collect in the corner of it, shining gold through the cut crystal where the overhead light struck. “Scratch test came up gray for years. Thought I’d never really feel anything again… Thought I was done.” 

Straightening the glass, he let its contents slosh back to cover the bottom before bringing it to his lips and taking a sip. Honey and malt slid over his tongue, a subtle layer of smoke and spice following as he swallowed. Back in Boston, drinking wasn’t something he did for enjoyment or relaxation. It wasn’t for savoring or even tasting, really. Then he drank to forget. To sleep. To turn it all off. Here in Jackson though, he could share a drink with his brother and remember. 

Remember what life tasted and looked and felt like. Remember his daughter. Remember who he was beneath all the dead wood around his heart.  

“Yeah.” Tommy’s eyes were on his own glass, a frown pulling at his mouth and etching creases between his eyebrows again. “I know.” He cleared his throat and took a long swig, finishing his drink with a wince that cracked into a fool’s gold grin - one that Joel knew was covering feelings of guilt and empathy and other things Tommy still felt compelled to atone for even though Joel had tried his best to lay those things to rest in the years since their reunion. We were no good to each other like that, little brother. We would have just broken each other. I don’t blame you for leavin’. Not anymore. Tommy reached over, grin still stretched across his face but growing more genuine as he clapped Joel on the shoulder of his good arm. “But you ain’t done, you old fucker. Not yet.” 

That was thanks almost entirely to Ellie and they both knew it. The girl was determined, borderline relentless, same as Sarah had been with the tree. She had been the one to keep scratching, keep digging, keep checking for the hint of green under all that twisted, lifeless gray. And when she found it, all the things that he thought had disappeared started coming out of their dormancy.

Things like jokes and laughter. Memories. The capacity to care deeply for others again. Things like movie nights. The things that made surviving the worst worthwhile. 

It was also thanks in part to Jackson - and to Tommy and Maria for welcoming him and Ellie into their lives. Some days it terrified him, allowing himself to have so much to lose again. There were still times he worried that he had peeled back too many of those hardened layers. That he’d let his guard down too much, exposed his heart to happiness for too long and that it would all be lost to blight. But even on those days he knew what Tommy had just said to be true - that he wasn’t done yet. 

And neither is she. 

Joel spoke your name then, nodding solemnly. “I think it’s been like that for her for a long time, too.” 

Tommy sighed. “Yeah.” He finished his drink and walked over to set the empty glass in the sink. “I got that impression, too.” Turning around, he tilted his head to one side. “You said she was alright on the trip though. Somethin’ happen?” 

Joel took a breath in through his nose, letting it back out slowly. “Just…” He tapped his pointer finger absently against the glass he still held. “I think I saw that  in her. The green underneath. I think… bein’ here is… it’s helpin’ her.” Even if she’s got a long way to go. “It’s… she’s still in there.”  

You were. And Joel realized, for the first time since meeting Tess all those years ago in Boston, that he wanted to know that person - the person who showed him the hint of a genuine smile, the person who carefully and gently patched him up, the person who shared a coveted instant coffee packet with him to pass the time and stay warm on a chilly night. And that scares the hell outta me.  

“Well that’s-” Tommy’s smile had nothing but warmth behind it that time. “That’s real good to hear.” He stepped away from the counter and towards the kitchen door then, bringing his hands together. “Well, I’ll get outta here so you can get yourself cleaned up and all. Just had to make sure you were good after we heard from Holly.” 

Joel nodded, following him out into the living room. “Yeah. How’d you put it? Thanks for still givin’ a shit about me?” He heard his brother snort out a laugh before turning around to face him again. 

“Yeah, exactly.” He paused then, the joking smile falling away to reveal something more serious yet still full of relief and warmth. When he spoke again his words were quiet, but they made a big impact. “It’s real good to hear you talk about Sarah again, too.” 

With that, he left, and Joel was left to respond to the empty room. “Yeah. It is.” 

–  –  – 

Twenty minutes later he was drying off from the shower when he heard the sound of the back door opening, followed by the call of his name. 

“Joel? You home?” Ellie’s voice was muffled by the closed door and the towel that he was dragging over his hair. 

Ellie? Thought she was stayin’ out tonight? 

He called back. “Yeah. Gimme five minutes, I’ll be right down.”  

Moving from the bathroom into his bedroom, Joel pulled clean clothes and underwear from his dresser - a pair of thick navy blue sweatpants along with a dark gray t- shirt and a pair of wool socks. Easing the shirt carefully over his wrapped bicep, he sighed, knowing that as soon as Ellie saw it she would react. She hated seeing him injured, as anyone would hate to see someone they cared about get hurt. But Joel knew that in her case, it was more than that. In her case, it reminded her of those dark days in Colorado, when she did all she could to keep him alive and still wasn’t sure he would make it through the night. 

It won’t always be like that, though. ‘Least I hope not. For her sake. 

The  thought of covering it up with a loose fitting flannel or long sleeved shirt didn’t even occur to him, though. After coming clean about everything that happened in Salt Lake City with the Fireflies and the doctor they were working with, Joel made a solemn vow to himself that he’d never withhold the truth from her again. Even when it might hurt. Especially when it might hurt. Because he knew that nothing he’d done in that hospital had hurt her more than the lie he told her on the outskirts of Jackson. 

And I’ll never do that to her again. 

As he made his way down the stairs, he heard her moving around in the kitchen, the sound of plates being set on the counter meeting his ears. “I’m making sandwiches,” she yelled when the fourth step from the bottom creaked under his weight. “You want one?” 

“Sure, kiddo.”  What happened to stayin’ with your friends? Everything alright?” He wasn’t trying to distract her by keeping her talking before she saw his arm, but Joel wanted her to hear it in his voice that he was okay. 

She groaned. “Kat and Dina are having some kind of stupid drama and I didn’t wanna get sucked into it so I decided to come home. You know, they’re both important to me but sometimes they can just - Fuck! Joel! What the?” 

He’d walked into the kitchen at the same time that she looked up from the slices of bread that she was piling with leftover chicken, the sight of him making her stop what she was doing and scramble around the island to stand in front of him. 

“Hey, hey, it’s…” He held up both hands, only wincing a little at the pull of his stitches when he lifted his arm. “I’m fine, Ellie. Just a cut.” 

“Well …” Her eyes were wide but she tore  them from the bandage to look up at him. “Well, what happened? I thought it was supposed to be an easy run?” 

“It was. But you know as well as I do that easy runs can turn, yeah?” He reached forward, placing his hand on her shoulder and tilting his head to the side. “Hey. I’m okay, kiddo.” Giving her a light squeeze, he waited for her to nod and accept what he was saying, and then he shot a glance at the half-finished sandwiches. “C’mon, I’m starvin’. Let’s eat and I’ll fill you in.” 

Just like he did the night that he and Tommy brought you into town, Joel sat down and told her everything that happened at the optometrist’s office - how the pair of infected had seemingly come from nowhere and were suddenly on the two of you, how the one that lunged at him managed to knock him backwards and through a glass case, how you had made sure that the wound was cleaned and tended to as best as you could. And though she had been concerned and rattled at the beginning of his story, Ellie was wearing something close to a smirk as he finished. 

“Oh.” She bit off a mouthful of her sandwich, raising her eyebrows as she chewed and speaking again before she swallowed. “So you like… really trust this chick, huh?” 

Joel clicked his tongue and rolled his eyes. Her too? First Tommy and now- “That’s your comment? Not ‘Well I’m glad you had someone there to help you, Joel’?” 

Ellie rolled her eyes right back. “Yeah, yeah that too. But I mean…” She gave a casual, one-shouldered shrug. “First you let her take care of you, then you decide to both sleep at the same time instead of taking shifts?” She narrowed her eyes suspiciously at him. “You never do that unless it’s me or Tommy.” Something dawned on her then, and she turned mid-chew toward the sink, gesturing towards it with the hand that still held what was left of her sandwich. “Wait. Is that why there’s two glasses in there? Did she come over when you got back to town?” 

“What? No. Ellie…” He sighed, and shook his head. “No. There’s two glasses in the sink because Tommy was here earlier, not-” 

“Well you should invite her over for dinner then. As a thank you-” She emphasized her intention to silence his protest. “- for sewing you up, you know?” 

Joel took a bite of his food, chewing it slowly to buy himself more time before answering. The idea of having you in his home, sharing a meal, talking and laughing - he’d be lying to himself if he said he didn’t like it. But I don’t know if she… 

He thought back to his own first few months in Jackson and how skittish he was every time someone would try to include him in anything that wasn’t directly related to security or survival. It all still seemed so impractical. Cookouts and movie nights and holidays while the world outside the walls continued to crumble? And then there was the guilt. That grating, shredding near-constant feeling that he shouldn’t be there - shouldn’t be safe, shouldn’t be happy or comfortable or even alive - not when Tess didn’t get to be there too. Not when Sarah never had a chance to. You hadn’t said much about the things you’d been through or the people you’d lost, other than that you’d recently lost your nephew. But Joel knew from experience that while those devastating wounds never fully healed, they did become less raw when they were given some time.   

I’d like it. But I don’t know if she’s ready for somethin’ like that. He swallowed and brought a hand up to wipe his mouth. Yet. 

“Maybe when the weather’s nicer an’ we can cook outside.” He got up from the table and took his plate with him, setting it in the sink next to the two glasses. 

The scrape of chair legs on the floor told him that Ellie had gotten up, too, the girl appearing at his elbow to stack her plate atop his. “What does the weather have to do with-” He shot her a look then and she rolled her eyes. “Alright, fine. But we’re circling back to this in June.” 

Joel leaned against the counter and crossed his arms over his chest. “Speakin’ of circling back, you said somethin’ about your friends fightin’? You wanna talk about that?” He lifted one eyebrow as she shot him a look of her own. 

“I do not.” 

Joel snorted a laugh. “Alright, then. Just try not to go breakin’ too many hearts, yeah? You don’t-” 

Without missing a beat, Ellie grabbed the dish towel that was hanging on the oven handle, balling it up and throwing it at his face. “Shut up.” She was laughing too, though, bending down to pick up the towel after Joel had batted it away. “So stupid.” Straightening back up with an exaggerated sigh, she whipped the towel onto the countertop. “On that note, I’m gonna get outta here.” She glanced at his arm, mouth dipping into a quick frown that was gone by the time she looked back up at his face. “I’m glad you’re home, Joel. Have a good night.” 

He smiled, chest warming as he did. “G’night, kiddo. I’ll see you tomorrow.” 

With that she turned and was nearly out the door when something caught her eye and she stopped in front of the refrigerator. “Hey, you got a new magnet.” She pointed at the note she’d left him, now stuck up with the square-ish shape of Wyoming. “I used the cowhead one but this one’s-” She looked over her shoulder, a smirk beginning to grow. “You brought home a souvenir from your trip, huh? So you could remember it? Any reason for that?” 

Joel narrowed his eyes at her, but all it did was pull a laugh out of her. “Good night, Ellie.”  She laughed all the way down the back porch steps but Joel didn’t mind. She ain’t wrong.

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[dujour13]

Do not be alarmed. Going through my wip folder and uploading a bunch of old prompts I posted here ages ago to AO3, so there may be a flood of notifs in the next couple days.

A Knack for the Flash (689 words, under the cut) is the only one I think I never posted.

Yger sucked in a breath through his pointed teeth. “What’d you just do?”

In the moonlight Woljif blinked at his own grubby hands as if he’d never seen them before. “I dunno. It just sorta.”

The mechanical alarm construct, a gnome-sized walking eyeball, lay smoking on the ground between them.

Woljif wiped his hands on his breeches and laughed nervously. “I didn’t know I had it in me.”

Which was a partial lie. He’d taken the jolt spell Yger taught him and tweaked it around a little bit. This was as good an occasion as any to give it a try, but it did work a lot better than he’d expected.

Yger’s orange, slit-pupiled eyes narrowed calculatingly. “Well, watch it next time. Don’t draw attention.”

As soon as he turned his back the boy indulged in a self-satisfied smirk.

Not half bad. Residual blue flames still licked up his forearms, much like those that came with his other trick. He reckoned his shadow and his “knack for the flash,” as Yger called it, must be a package deal. You’re a talented young man if I may say so, he congratulated himself, since nobody else ever did. The day would come.

Yger crouched so the boy could climb up his back, using the old man’s horns like handles, balancing his feet on his shoulders as he rose.

Deftly Woljif slid a flat metallic tool into the crack under the window and pried open the latch, pushed the window up high enough that he could shimmy his underfed child’s body through, and quietly, carefully slipped inside, holding his breath, and counted to ten. No alarms.

A spiral staircase in the corner led down to the main floor.

He lay flat and hung his head upside-down from the stairwell to get a look. There were a lot more contraptions, but none of those walking eyeball things, at least at first glance.

At eight he was already taller than the average gnome and could easily have jumped down, but he took the winding stairs anyway because it was more fun and also that way he could keep a sharp eye, as Yger put it.

Nothing stirred. At the bottom he stood stock-still and glanced around warily, until he was satisfied it was safe and he could unlock the front door for Yger.

Halfway across the room a sudden ear-piercing shriek made him jump clean out of his socks.

Like he was on fire Woljif bolted for the front door, but then his brain caught up with him and told him it was just another construct and that was all right, he knew how to deal with those.

This one was small, the size of a penny loaf, standing on four stubby legs. In fact, Woljif realized with surprise, it looked like a puppy. Well, a brass puppy with glowing red eyes, barking up an unholy metallic racket.

He delivered a quick jolt to its button nose and the puppy’s eyes went dark. It toppled onto its flank and lay twitching on the floor.

“S-sorry,” Woljif whispered, toeing it with his boot.

Pretty soon Yger found what he was looking for among the weird apparatus and unlikely gnomish tools, and they were slipping out into the garden and nearly home free, but as they crept along the garden wall stepping carefully on the slick stones of the path, voices from the other side of the wall made them freeze. Yger whipped around to head for the opposite gate, grabbing the boy’s shoulder to shove him along, and the brusque movement dislodged something under Woljif’s coat that tumbled to the flagstones with a very noisy metallic clatter.

The puppy construct.

Alarmed voices rose from beyond the wall.

“Shit.” Yger swung a palm to cuff him but he was too quick, and then they were bolting for the back gate and he had to climb it because his “mentor” didn’t even pause to give him a hand.

Racing down the alley with his lungs on fire, Woljif reflected sourly that Gran wouldn’t have let him keep it anyway. Or she’d have pawned it. Like everything else.

[kivaember]

teaser for an angsty smt5 post-lahmu oneshot i found in my old wip folder... pls enjoy and pray i finish it one day

-

In the aftermath, Tao’s death was reduced into a single statement. Rin reported it to Yuzuru and Ichiro, he reported it to Koshimizu, he reported it to Abdiel, who had come down on him in a snarling fury, he had written it in simple, bland, distant words in his report (he was writing a report about this?) that reduced everything to: ‘Casualties include the Saint, Isonokami Tao, and a single human, Itsukishima Sahori’. The words depersonalised the whole thing, made it unreal, an event that had happened - just. Happened.

Rin still felt like it hadn’t happened.

He finished his report though. It sat, nice and neat on the coffee table of one of the side offices he had claimed after being released from his gauntlet of debriefs. It was very bland and empty - clearly not in use, but frequented enough that there were well worn dips in the sofa and recent scratch marks on the coffee table. There was a faint ring mark stained into the wood too. Coffee. Or tea, maybe.

Rin.

“Yeah?” Rin murmured, tracing that ring mark with his finger.

Aogami said nothing at first. Ever since- everything, he had been very quiet. Uncertain.

Are you… alright?

No. Of course not. Rin didn’t say that, though. He pulled his hand back from the coffee stain and fidgeted with his report instead. He pressed his fingers against the edges of the paper and pushed it back and forth, watching the plain white paper crinkle slightly, a faint, bluish tint cast over it.

He didn’t need to be Nahobino still, but Rin didn’t want to split. Like this… things were easier to compartmentalise. To carve up into neat little boxes and to tuck them away, out of sight, to be dealt with later or never. If he split… if he split… he didn’t know. He could feel something building underneath everything, and Rin didn’t want to have some kind of- some kind of breakdown in the middle of Bethel. Everyone would be watching him, like vultures. He needed to be strong, because he fucked up badly. He had to box up the very human part of him that still didn’t believe Tao was dead, but she was dead, but she wasn’t because she was reduced to a single, emotionless statement of ‘casualties include the Saint, Isonokami Tao, and…’ He had to box that up. He had to crush it right down into dust.

Rin, Aogami’s soul touched him, gentle. It’s alright to be sad.

“No, it isn’t,” Rin said roughly. He curled his fingers into fists, pressed his knuckles right into the word ‘Casualties’. Electricity sparked. “I-I’m not… allowed…”

Rin had learned, very early on in life, that ugly shows of emotion were unseemly. He cannot make a scene. He cannot rock the boat. He must be calm and serene and placid and not- not- not-

You are, Aogami said. You’re allowed to grieve over Her Holiness.

“Tao,” Rin whispered.

…Tao, Aogami amended gently. You don’t need to hide your emotions or thoughts from me, Rin. I will never judge you for them. If you wish to… express yourself…

Rin felt his ironclad control waver for a split second. He blinked rapidly and took in a shuddering breath.

And I must offer my apologies, Aogami continued in a softer tone. If I was more robust, or diligent, perhaps… things would have gone differently.

“It’s- it’s not your fault,” Rin said. If anything it had been Rin’s fault. He got cocky, had been stupidly naive - of course it wasn’t as simple as beating Lahmu up to free Sahori. He didn’t even consider the possibility of the demon possessing her and pretending- Rin was an idiot. A fucking fool. And look where it got them.

And it is not yours either, Aogami said, guessing the flow of his thoughts. If we are to blame someone, it would be Lahmu. At the very least, we have avenged Isonokami and Itsukishima.

“Yeah, I’m sure that thought is making them real fucking warm in their graves,” Rin snapped, and instantly regretted it. “I- sorry, I didn’t mean…”

…it’s alright.

It wasn’t, but Rin didn’t want to argue. He stared at his report and wondered what he was meant to do now. Go back to his dorm room? Why? He wasn’t going to sleep, and he wasn’t in the mood to do anything that required any real effort. But sitting here staring at the wall probably wasn’t good either.

The choice was taken entirely out of his hands when the door opened. Rin didn’t look up, expecting it to be one of the humans wandering about the facility; they normally skittered away when they saw him. Aogami gave him a mental nudge, though, and he looked up to see-

“Director Koshimizu,” Rin said in dull surprise.

Koshimizu stopped near the coffee table. His gaze was very sharp.

“I see you haven’t taken my suggestion to go home and rest,” he said, keeping his tone bland and even.

“…I needed to finish my report,” Rin murmured, lowering his eyes.

Koshimizu held his hand out. “Let me see it, then.”

Rin handed his report over without looking at him, clasping his hands together in his lap. He heard the slight rustle of paper, followed by a long moment of heavy silence. Rin’s hair drifted in his peripheral vision, and he tracked it dully, trying to keep his mind empty of any significant thought. Aogami was quiet, but warm.

“You’re very critical of yourself in this,” Koshimizu remarked. “Almost to an unfair degree.”

“My mistakes directly contributed to Isonokami and Itsukishima’s deaths,” Rin murmured.

There was a pause. Rin stared at his clasped hands.

“The blame does not rest solely on your shoulders,” Koshimizu finally said. “There were a multitude of failures throughout this entire operation, and, yes, some of those failures and mistakes were mine. Some of them were Abdiel’s. But the sole instigator of this event was Lahmu.”

“I should’ve done more,” Rin mumbled to his lap.

“And what would you have done?”

Rin had no answer, because he didn’t know yet. He just knew he should’ve done more, somehow. He let the silence hang between them, until Koshimizu let out a very loud sigh.

“Amagami,” Koshimizu said. “Come with me.”

[paramouradrift]

#Avatar BioShock Crossover AU" 2023 please!!!

This one's a doozy.

I don't remember precisely what triggered this one, but there was a period of a couple weeks last year where I got really into the idea of an Avatar/BioShock crossover AU. This spawned several AUs, only one of which made it into my WIP folder, apparently, so the rest must be lurking on discord with my beta reader. This particular AU has a few scant character notes, some timelines, and a discussion of themes that paint what I would consider a compelling but overly-ambitious picture.

The themes in play: destiny, causality, consciousness, free will, and moral choice. We are pulling material from BioShock, BioShock 2, BioShock 2: Minerva's Den, BioShock Infinite, Avatar: the Last Airbender, and Legend of Korra. Rapture exists in its own right, whereas Columbia is replaced with Republic City. Tears, Spirit Portals, and Spirit Wilds are all the same thing, linking Rapture and Republic City across time and space. Bending and Splicing are the same, as well, with the "Avatar" being someone who has spliced up to an incredible degree and not died of every kind of cancer. The Avatar State is thus a kind of berserk mode that uses up all the EVE in the Avatar's body, leaving them powerless and vulnerable at the end. Past Avatars exist as coherent ADAM ghosts.

Aang, in this story, is a Jack/Eleanor Lamb character originally from Rapture who escaped into Republic City through a tear, and set about trying to find a way back to Rapture's past to undo all of the damage he ended up causing. He's a man haunted by guilt whose efforts are ultimately futile, because that's not how causality works.

Korra is our Elizabeth, whose ability to open and close tears makes her valuable to Aang in his quest for redemption, but also makes her a target for everyone on both sides of the veil who wants a slice of the Rapture/Republic City pie. But opening and closing tears destroys entire sections of probability space, creating fixed points in spacetime and releasing a ton of spiritual energy that gets eaten by the bioluminescent mass that sits beneath Rapture, spitting ADAM slugs back out into the world, accelerating the chaos and decline of both cities.

I have here that Aang somehow travels back to the past and becomes the founder of Rapture, which means he later creates and then kills himself while trying to do everything he can to avoid that outcome. It probably made more sense in my head the time. The other members of the Gaang are listed as Rapture's Best & Brightest: Zuko and Sokka are divorced and miserable, with Zuko trying to be a single dad and Sokka inventing the Thinker; Katara is the city's foremost doctor and philanthropist; Suki is a detective/private security chief; and Toph runs the banks because nobody else is capable. She also laid a lot of the city's foundation.

The Mechanist is here inventing things. Wu is a popular singer with his own radio program. Suyin is a prima donna ballerina. Asami is...presumably doing something amazing, but I didn't write that bit down.

The villain rogue's gallery is all here as well, moving back and forth across the tears and causing mischief and mayhem. Zaheer's radical spirituality causes Aang (Rapture Founder) to ban religion, and Unalaq tries to get control of the Avatar Program so that he can become an Avatar himself. Ozai and Zhao extend their feelers throughout both cities, seizing power and resources for themselves. Amon slots himself nicely into the Atlas role (plot twist and all), so nothing really more to say there. Kuvira is apparently a former police officer turned mob boss capitalizing on the chaos for her own gain. Long Feng is a cold technocrat who runs a private security firm and manages assets for city big wigs. My note on him is "a less affable Sinclair."

Pro-bending/ADAM boxing is a thing, so Mako and Bolin are here trying to make it big in the big bad city/ies, which probably means I planned some background Wuko.

I have no idea what my endgame was. I don't know what the actual plot was going to be. This project wasn't one I seriously considered planning out in detail because I was in the middle of H&V/J&R work, and that takes priority over anything else with this level of ambition. Having said that, it might be interesting to take another pass at the concept and see if I can turn all of that up there into something workable.

WIP Game master post.

[whereonceiwasfire]

Landing Zone

Figured it was about time I finally did one of these, so hey, hi, hello, I'm Rees (a.k.a. WhereOnceIWasFire). You can find some general info about me, and a masterlist of fics in this post!

GENERAL

Any pronouns

I write fic (masterlist below the cut)

My brain has been chemically altered by: Danny Phantom and DBZ (though I typically keep Dragonball posts to my sideblog)

My DMs/inbox are open! Send me things, I'm friendly, I swear!

I'm always open to prompt requests (though I don't do crossovers). Feel free to leave me something in my ask box, and I'll get to it when I have a chance/if it sparks an idea!

FICS

(tags can be found on ao3)

Finished Fics:

Overshadowed - Long ass (140K) College AU, No One Knows, heavy angst, mystery w/ horror elements, mostly happy ending, but I also left it a bit open/ambiguous. I MIGHT write a sequel one day. Everything's Fine (And the Boss is Totally Not a Cryptid) - Outsider POV, intern gets hired at Vlad Co., shenanigans ensue. Oh so many Dracula references. H(a)unted - Weird, angsty little Ghost Hunter Danny AU. Separate Danny and Phantom. ALT ending. I have some ideas percolating to continue off the alternate ending. The Hazards of Being Hot High AF - Shippy Popular Psychology (Jazz/Dash) oneshot I found in my fics folder. Jazz visits Dash in the hospital after a football injury. Elementary, My Dear Fenton - Ecto-Implosion fic. A goofy comedy-mystery where Danny and the trio try to track down who left an anonymous gift in his locker. They get WAY too into it.

WIPs:

Not So Bitter Reunions - AU, canon divergence, badger cereal. The college reunion goes decidedly less off the rails than in canon, leading to some nefarious consequences. I'm just kind of vibing with this one. High School's a Beach - **AGIT SPOILERS** Dan's in high school. This one is so very unserious, but I think I've got a few more chapters left in me. Needs Must (When the Devil Drives) - Canon divergence. AU. Vlad and Harriet reconnect at the college reunion, but since Vlad's technically an evil spirit, he's adversely impacted by things like salt, windchimes, running water, etc. Bad News (Vlad/Harriet) shipfic. I just...I think they're neat. Bearer of Bad News - Post Phantom Planet (not AGIT compliant). Bad News fic because I have an illness and these two live in my head rent free. The GIW enlist Harriet's help in preventing Ghost King Danny from destroying the earth.

Drabbles/Ficlets:

DannyMay 2022 - I don't remember any of these being particularly good, but they do exist. I very much did not last the entire month. Drabble Dump from Tumblr asks - this is just what it sounds like. Though, in general, I'll probably start trying to post oneshots and/or collect the separate, individual Tumblr ask ficlets on this post now instead of just clumping them in a drabble dump on ao3. Monsters Don't Exist - horror vibes. AU. Vlad didn't peace out after the accident and he's keeping his enemies (Maddie and Jack) close. Jazz suspects their babysitter, Uncle Vlad, is more dangerous than everyone else in the family seems to think. Cheese Melt ficlet - Outsider POV. Dani has a parent-teacher interview. Cheese Melt ficlet #2 - Dani doesn't like the toy she got at Nasty Burger. Vlad gets her a new one. Badger cereal ficlet - No one knows AU. Danny works as a cashier and Vlad accidentally outs his supervillain indetity by infodumping to him when Danny makes idle customer-servicey smalltalk.

Unwritten/Unposted:

I'm not going to list out all my filenames and ideas, don't worry lol. But I do have a couple (*cough* couple hundred *cough*) ideas percolating or half written in my fics folder, so that is a thing. I want to jump on WIP Wednesday and such, but like. IDK. Feel free to ask/harass me about my unposted WIPs too, I am motivated by peer pressure.

[bits-and-babs]

𝐭𝐚𝐠 𝐠𝐚𝐦𝐞 : “post the names of all the files in your wip folder, regardless of how ridiculous or non-descriptive. let people send you an ask with the title that most intrigues them, then post a little snippet or tell them something about it.”

thank you @ghostaholics & @luuvbuzz for the tag. it was really interesting to look back at these wips, some of which have been hanging around in my folder since midyear 2022 !! luckily, i am extremely stubborn, so i don’t have many. they are all oneshot fics, usually over 3k words.

please feel free to push me for any fics you’re particularly interested in !! i need motivation <33

𝐨𝐝𝐝𝐬 𝐨𝐧 ⁞ 18+ || simon ‘ghost’ riley

a flippant comment from soap begins a three way competition to discover whether ghost is blonde or brunette. chaos ensues. 

𝐩𝐮𝐬𝐬𝐲 𝐝𝐞𝐜𝐨𝐫𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬 ⁞ 18+ || johnny ‘soap’ mactavish / santiago ‘pope’ garcia

a frank and honest conversation with the boys about their sexual activities exposes you to one of soap’s/pope’s interesting kinks

𝐰𝐡𝐞𝐧 𝐚𝐬𝐦𝐨𝐝𝐞𝐮𝐬 𝐤𝐢𝐬𝐬𝐞𝐝 𝐬𝐚𝐭𝐚𝐧 ⁞ 18+ || dark!joel miller

joel’s silent warpath to washington dc is interrupted by a persistent presence that seems hellbent on joining him on his bloody crusade. 

𝐬𝐡𝐨𝐭𝐠𝐮𝐧 ⁞ 18+ || simon ‘ghost’ riley [what if...]

held captive by al-qatala terrorists in st. mark’s basillica, venice, you must work with the mancunian man on the radio to negotiate a deal for your safety. putting your life in the hands of a stranger is hard enough, but your saviour refuses to tell you anything about himself, or go by anything other than ‘ghost’. 

𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐨𝐫𝐲 𝐨𝐟 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠 ⁞ 18+ || nathan bateman

devastated by his brush with death, nathan searches for something. what he finds amongst binary code turns his entire belief system on its head. 

𝐛𝐚𝐧𝐞 ⁞ 18+ || miguel o’hara 

fresh to his new abilities, miguel doesn’t quite understand the extent of his mutations. 

tagging: @foxilayde @glassbxttless @polakina 

[a-cup-of-fantasy]

so, as the next couple chapters for my main @smvillainsweek fic are going to take a while for me to finish, here's a bonus snippet for the free day (though it still fits under the theme of corruption) that takes place between the second and third chapters.

I actually wrote this like a year and a half ago, and it's been sitting in my giant folder of sailor moon wips, and I thought now would be an appropriate point to share it, to tumblr at least. I may post it to ao3 eventually, idk.

(edit: I have now posted it to ao3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/50676811)

it's a short kunzoi piece, with implied/fade to black sex, but nothing at all explict. hope you enjoy!

Zoisite marched into their rooms in a huff, only to sigh as he entered to see Kunzite pouring over papers at the table there. “You’re still at it? You promised you’d be done for the day hours ago.” 

There was no response.

“Kunzite?” 

He walked over and placed a hand on his shoulder. At the touch, Kunzite whirled around, with his fingers just beginning to spark with the light of a spell and his eyes a dull grey, unfocused. “Hey, it’s just me! All I did was say hi—you’re not usually this jumpy.”

Kunzite’s eyes widened as he took in what was before him. He shook his head. “I’m sorry—I didn’t hear you come in. I must have been more absorbed in the work than I thought. What time is it?”

“Far past time for you to go get something to eat, if you’ve been sitting here since I left you.” Zoisite said, and he sighed, letting go of the snide tone. “Come on, I’m worried about you. You’ve been so stressed the past few days. And what are you even working on that’s got you like this, anyway?”

“I’m looking at the records of who and how many people have been entering the Earth from the Silver Millenium. There’s something—”

“Really? That’s what has got you so stressed you forgot we were supposed to have dinner together?”

“We were—oh shit. That was tonight, wasn't it.”

“Yes, yes it is. Why do you think I’m dressed up like this?” Zoisite turned around, showing off how the green silk of his shirt shimmered in the light, and how it highlighted the embroidery of the floral patterns he so loved. He stopped when he was facing away from Kunzite, and made as if to walk out the door. “Though, I suppose since you’re so occupied with your work, I may as well just leave you to it.”

Kunzite stood up from the desk and put his arms around him. “I’m sorry, love. I got caught up in this, and I completely forgot. Can you find it in yourself to forgive me?”

“I don’t know…” he said, but he broke off in a giggle when Kunzite began to press kisses to the back of his neck. 

“How about now?” 

Zoisite wanted to melt back into Kunzite’s touch, but he decided he’d play hard to get for a while longer. “I think it’ll take more than a few kisses to get me to forgive you for standing me up like that.”

“What about some pretty words then? Like how absolutely ravishing you look in that outfit, or how incredibly sorry I am to have left you on your lonesome for so long? Or, would you prefer me to get on my knees?” His words were punctuated by kisses, and one of his hands began to slide down Zoisite’s leg as he murmured into his ear.

“Alright, alright, that’s enough, you flatterer.” Zoisite turned around and drew Kunzite into a long kiss. “I forgive you,” he said as he pulled away. “But, I’m still worried about you. You’ve hardly been doing anything but work the past few days, and I could have sworn you’d said you wouldn’t be as busy now as you had been recently. What’s going on?”

“Oh, forget about it for now.” Kunzite lifted Zoisite up in his arms and carried him to the bed. 

Zoisite frowned as Kunzite set him down. “I’m serious.”

“Fine. It’s the Moon, there’s something—” He stopped and sighed when he saw Zoisite’s blank stare. “You don’t see it.”

“You’re right, I don’t see it. I don't understand what it is that’s got you so worried.” He looked into Kunzite’s eyes, still the brilliant silver that he’d fallen in love with. “Just… just promise me that you’re okay?”

“I promise.” He started to undo the ties holding Zoisite’s shirt together. “Don’t worry, my love. It’ll be fine. I’m fine. Now, I think there is something far more enjoyable we could be doing, don’t you agree? ”

The caress of Kunzite’s hands on his skin thoroughly distracted Zoisite from his concerns and drove any worried thoughts from his mind, if only for a little while. For, as he lay in bed afterwards, with Kunzite’s strong arms around him, he couldn’t get rid of the sensation that was creeping up his spine, the unshakable feeling that something, somewhere, was going wrong.

[fridayincarnate]

Okay, SURELY someone else has asked about "sorry about the blood in your mouth" so if that's already getting answered, I would love to know about "snare"!

(ETA: yes, here's my answer for sorry about the blood in your mouth!)

OKAY, remember many months ago when I posted this Bad Things Happen Bingo card and asked for prompts? no? probably because I never answered any of them 😅

I SWEAR I didn't forget! I do intend to do them eventually, but alas, I've been lured away by the siren call of other WIPs for now. Here's a bit of my fill for the prompt "Caught in a Snare" -

“This is all your fault,” Hux snarls into a faceful of Ren’s sweaty, matted hair. He squirms against the coarse rope net suspending them above the undergrowth. Everything about this planet makes him claustrophobic, from the dank soil to the thick, cloying humidity. Now it has crammed him into a physical prison as well. One he must share with Ren. The trap snatched them both up so suddenly that they’re bound together in an uncomfortable and intimate tangle that is almost as impressive as the knots that secure the net. “Remind me, General, what your platinum rank commendation at the Academy was for?” Ren’s muffled voice vibrates through Hux’s chest where Ren’s face presses into it.   “This is not about my wilderness survival training!” Shame runs hot up Hux’s neck. He's spent the last ten minutes berating Ren for wandering away from the camp and reminding him how unprepared he is for this terrain without Hux’s level of training. It had not stopped them from getting snapped up by this trap in a moment of distracted arguing. At least Ren can’t see him blushing. “You are hardly one to talk when your Force fails to warn you of such a rudimentary trap.” “The Force doesn’t work that way. And I don’t take orders from you, General.” Ren shifts, trying to wriggle his arm free.

(from this WIP folder ask game)

[tinycoded360]

Cursed to a Foreign Land

Author Note: So, while I work on finishing my other WIP/working on the next chapters to stuff, I decided to pull out a rough draft I had sitting in my draft folder. I wrote this when the game House of Ash came out. I just never got around to fixing it up and posting it. So this is a work of fanfiction about a borrower child that gets magically transported to Iraq. He is found by my favorite character, Salim. I broke up into smaller parts. You should be fine with reading this without any knowledge of the game. If there is mention of vampires, Zeddle will also be confused too. (He doesn't even know what a vampire is) I hope you enjoy it!

*****

"Zeddle, don't wander too far!" his mother's voice echoed from their hidden home. "I won't, mom!" he called back. He was a responsible ten-year-old borrower boy, and today, like every day, he was helping his family gather supplies and caring for his two younger sisters, Flare and Varsha. His family lived in a big borrower colony deep in a lush forest. Zeddle had only heard stories of humans; he’d never seen the bigger counterpart. His home was hidden away from human civilization. Humans never ventured that deep into the wilderness. The only danger they had besides wild animals was the threat of a giant witch of woods. It was said the witch looked like a human and was probably the reason, that kept humans out. Unfortunately, the Witch of the Woods had little love for the tiny people and would often curse them, or borrowers would go missing to never be seen again. Zeddle was always told to run and hide if he encountered this danger.

While foraging for food and materials for his parents and keeping an eye on his younger siblings, Zeddle felt the air around him go cold.

Suddenly, a twisted figure emerged from the shadows – the giant witch of the woods. "Well, well, what have we here?" she crooned, her voice dripping with malice. "Ah, what a delicious morsel you are," she cackled, her voice like nails on a chalkboard. She towered over Zeddle. Zeddle turns to his sisters. “Run!” Zeddle shouted to his little sisters. The twins turned and booked it back home. Zeddle turned to distract the Witch from his sisters. “Hey, down here, you ugly hag!” The Witch sneered at him, waved a gnarled hand over him, and, with an evil grin, whispered, "Begone!" Suddenly, everything went dark, and Zeddle felt his body being tossed through space. When he landed, he found himself dangling from strings tied to his limbs. Zeddle's heart hammered in his tiny chest as the strings cut into his wrists and ankles. The hot desert sun beat down on him, leaving him sunburnt and parched. His mouse-skin shirt and pants felt way too warm for this weather. He had no idea where the witch had sent him. Around him towered massive humans, their thunderous voices booming in a language he could not comprehend. Zeddle craned his neck, peering around the stall that held him captive. Rows of lifeless puppets surrounded him, their dead eyes and frozen smiles taunting him. He had to get free before one of the giants noticed he was alive. Zeddle twisted his wrists, wincing as the strings dug deeper. It was no use. He was bound too tightly. A bead of sweat trickled down his forehead as he watched the giants meander past. Zeddle's mind raced. How would he get back home? Did his family even know he was missing? He thought of his little sisters Flare and Varsha, how frightened they must be. A lump formed in his throat.

Chapter 2

[kidsomeday]

Soft Vashwood Fic for WIP Wednesday!

And in a shocking turn of events I succumb to exposition. This is one of those scenes that's so clear in my head and just fighting being written. Oh well! I appreciate the ask and making me face the scene instead of being grumpy with it and letting languish in my rough draft folder. -

Wolfwood had immediately impressed some of the other kids with his tricks with the lighter and cool, unaffected personality. They adopted him into the fold as they pretended to smoke the sticks from the lollipops he had handed out. Soon, Vash suspected, Wolfwood would know all the local gossip. The kids were at that right age where adults still seemed to think they didn’t understand much and weren’t aware of just how much attention was being paid to their words. Wolfwood gave them respect, treated them like equals, and spoke fluently in the language of youth. If he wasn’t careful Wolfwood would end up adopted by this little street crowd. Vash, on the other hand, was quickly claimed by the younger children as soon as they realized he could be used as a human climbing wall with no complaint. The fact that he genuinely loved spending time with kids must have shown- he was willing to play whatever role they demanded in their imagination games and had almost enough energy to match theirs. There was also something incredibly wonderful of how accepting they were. When he was silly they didn’t tell him to act like a grownup or stop messing around but instead giggled and asked for more. It was incredibly freeing.

[klcthebookworm]

WIP Wednesday

Meryl continued to investigate while everyone else went to sleep. The investigation is going poorly.

Meryl growled under her breath at the lack of answers. She continued turning pages. Three weeks of more samples tested, more pushing for Hybrid Four to do something that never happened, and the last entry in the folder said the military representative was coming to conduct their own tests. And that was it.

That was it! No note from Nana explaining why she did what she had done and what she knew. She had still had her mental facilities when she put this package together for Meryl. She could have written a confession. Or at least the location of the laboratory of Meryl’s nightmares.

Meryl flipped through the beginning pages again. She was right, no location written down anywhere. She growled again. Leaving out this information was unacceptable! Where could she go to find out what the hell she even was?

Vash rolled out of the sofa and onto his feet. “I know what that sound means.” Before Meryl could feel guilty about waking him up because Milly had slept through louder outbursts from her, he was at the table and switching off the lamp. “And as adorable as it is, none of us really need you yelling at us.”

Wait, adorable? Why was he calling her adorable? What did he mean by that? She couldn’t articulate her questions and while she was speechless, Vash scooped her out of the chair.

He laid her on her right side facing the sofa back, lay his long body behind her back, settled the bedroll blanket over them both, and draped his left arm over it and her waist. “So sex?” he asked.

That broke through the numbness that had froze her tongue. “Excuse you!” She whispered furiously, not wanting to wake anyone in the bedroom but he had to know that was not how to ask her for it.

He sighed hard enough to ruffle the hair on top of her head. “I don’t know what to do,” he said in a low, contrite voice she had never heard from him before. “I want to help you and I don’t know what to do. You are exhausted and getting sick over this and you know you need to rest to figure out what is frustrating you, but you’re stuck in the getting frustrated part. You have to know you need to rest. So if sex will help you forget enough to relax and sleep, I’m offering. Badly, obviously. I didn’t think I could do it worse than the last time. But I’m willing to help you. If you’d rather drink it away, I will get dressed and go find some open saloon in this city to buy you a bottle of whiskey.”

That made her heart plummet and she grabbed his gloved left hand to stop him from leaving. “Don’t go! They’ll catch you or something bad will happen—” She clamped her mouth shut to keep the spike of fear inside her. But she couldn’t loosen her fingers.

“Then I won’t go,” he said gently. “But you know just how hard I am to catch.”

She took a ragged breath trying to regain control of her free-wheeling emotions. “You must think I’m a stupid, emotional woman.” She was too exhausted to polish off the bitterness of always being judged lacking.

“Never stupid,” he said firmly. “I have lost count of the stupid I have dealt with, and you and Milly have never been in that category. And emotions are just psychological states and are fine as long as you don’t hurt anyone with them. You’d have to exert a lot more force on that hand in order to hurt it.”

She looked at her hand wrapped around his left hand, his replacement hand. “You’re still wearing your glove?”

He chuckled. “That’s not psychological. I don’t have a hate for it. Got it attached to the stump too fast to really miss the arm I was born with. Hair gets caught in the knuckle joints. Hopefully the next upgrade fixes that and I’ll be able to keep the gloves off occasionally.”

“I’m not trying to hurt your hand.” She shifted her fingers and pressed his hand onto her stomach. “How much can you feel with this?”

“A lot compared to some models available. My right is more sensitive.” He didn’t move it against her stomach. “Do you want the whiskey?”

The thought of losing control in the middle of all this uncertainty was a twang of wrong notes on her nerves. “Don’t go. You don’t have to go find whiskey.”

“I do want to help, Meryl. I’m sorry I don’t know how.”

“Jumping to sex rather sounds like you want to help yourself.”

“Not without your consent. And giving you a good time is not the worst thing to do on the planet.”

She snorted. “You propose it when we never have a bed available.”

“Huh. So I do. Sorry about that. Though the sofa is better than sand.”

He was serious about the offer, but there was another problem with the timing. “Just how soon did you want to have the sex talk with Chuck?”

“Not this soon,” he said fervently.

[lucywrites02]

Casual Friday

Main masterlist

A/N: This was supposed to be a drabble, but ended up being a bit longer heh. It's just a little scenario that I've been meaning to write down for ages. I already have a fic with similiar concept in my WIP folder :3 I just like to imagine Stephen in comfy clothes and I will write 10 more fics about it if the motivation stays with me.

Enjoy!

Pairing: Stephen Strange x gn! Reader (platonic or romantic)

Summary: It would take so much more than a weekend to clean all that mess. Who even allowed this room to be so…. Terrible? Disgusting? Stephen couldn’t think of a good adjective that would describe how much pain it caused him to think about all the work he was about to do. Even with the aid of his magic it would take ages. But thanks to him you appeared, offering help. But will you actually help him clean? Yeah… no

This gif is not 'comfy Stephen' enough for me, but it will do

Stephen exhaled loudly, looking at the storage room with tired eyes. He promised Wong he would clean  and organise it this weekend.

He actually lost a bet with him, but he was too proud to say that. The doctor knew Wong cheated, because it was impossible that he could beat Stephen at chess every single time. The sorcerer suspected that his colleague was stealing his pieces when he wasn’t looking, but couldn’t prove it. And here he was- in the middle of a room that looked like a ruin, with a single broom in his hand and a frown on his face. 

It would take so much more than a weekend to clean all that mess. Who even allowed this room to be so…. Terrible? Disgusting? Stephen couldn’t think of a good adjective that would describe how much pain it caused him to think about all the work he was about to do. Even with the aid of his magic it would take ages. Damn Wong and his stupid game nights!

“You have to do more than stare at the mess for it to disappear.” Your tired voice pulled Stephen out of his thoughts, making the sorcerer jump and curse under his nose. 

You were amused when Wong told you about the bet, but couldn’t leave poor Stephen alone in this. Your good heart wouldn’t allow him to suffer alone with those boring and mundane chores. On the other hand, he was the guardian of the New York sanctum and it was one of his duties to keep the storage room tidy and organised. But that didn’t matter now.

“I thought you could use some help.” You spoke again, swiping the dust of a nearby shelf with your pointer finger. Yeah, it would take more than two to accomplish anything. 

“Oh, I could definitely use some help.” Stephen sighed and gave you an awkward smile. 

It was only when he turned to face you when you noticed his attire. He wasn’t wearing his sorcerer robes- Stephen swapped those for a pair of comfy grey sweatpants and a simple black t-shirt that you could see peeking out of his half zipped burgundy hoodie. He looked so….. Regular. His hair was still messy which meant he must have woken up just a few minutes before you. It might sound weird, but it suited him. If you had to compare his appearance you would say that Stephen looked very much like a tired dad of 3 who had too little free time and too much work to do around the house. 

You have never seen him wearing anything else than his robes before. Okay, you have seen him in jeans and sweaters, but never in sweatpants and a hoodie! And he looked sooo good like that. 

Stephen cleared his throat, putting his hands into the pockets of his pants. "I think we should slowly get started."

"You know what?" You spoke, leaning on the wall and looking up at the sorcerer. "I didn't have breakfast. Did you?" 

"We have so much work to do and you want to eat?" Stephen smirked. He was about to say something sarcastic, but his stomach spoke up before he could..

"I will take that as a no." You sighed and took Stephen by the sleeve of his hoodie. "We need some energy or we will pass out from looking at all that mess."

Stephen didn't question you- he was no procrastinator, but nothing bad would happen if he didn't clean the storage room right away. And he was really hungry. 

It’s not like Wong would scold him for not doing what he was supposed to do.

✧. ┊    ✧. ┊    ✧. ┊    ✧. ┊    ✧. ┊    ✧. ┊    ✧. ┊    

"I feel like we forgot about something." The sorcerer said, wiping away the remains of his sandwich from his shirt on the pavement. The two of you decided to take the metro and go have breakfast on the other side of the city. Stephen proposed it, justifying his decision saying that he knew a great place. It was a sunny day in New York and it would be a shame to spend it all in the sanctum. That’s why you decided to eat in the park- something Stephen and you did regularly. Sometimes you sat there in silence, but there were times you would talk for hours, only stopping to eat whatever it was you bought to eat. Stephen cherished little moments like this. 

And today you couldn’t stop talking. It wasn’t even anything important. You started by discussing the newest episode of the soap opera you watched “out of boredom” and somehow ended up rating your favourite LEGO sets. Neither of you knew how much time had passed, but as long as the planet wasn’t in danger you could take things slow.

"Then I guess it wasn't important." You shrugged, laying down on the wooden bench, head in Stephen's lap. He never had a problem with you randomly laying down or leaning on him- on the contrary. The doctor really enjoyed being close to you. There wasn't a time he didn't feel comfortable around you which said a lot about how much he trusted you. “Let’s just stay here for a while. The weather is nice today.”

“Yeah,” Your friend exhaled loudly, hesitantly putting his hand on your shoulder. Thankfully you didn’t seem to mind- you just smiled. His heart skipped a beat. “Let’s stay here.”

You took your friend’s hand by the wrist and turned it to look at his watch. Realising it’s been almost 4 hours since you left the sanctum you smirked. Time always seemed to fly by when you were with Stephen. It was so peaceful.

Suddenly you gasped and sat up, almost hitting Stephen’s face. Life disappeared from your eyes and was replaced with fear. 

“Wong is gonna kill us.” You whispered. Something in Stephen snapped and the sorcerer was soon on his feet, taking your hand and running as fast as he could. 

“We are so dead!” He screamed, but you could hear his laugh through all that panic. 

You can deal with the consequences of Wong’s wrath if it meant that Stephen Strange would hold your hand like this again.

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Tag list: @gaitwae  @funsized-mimi  @queenjosielaufeyson @mischiefmanaged71 @eternal-silvertongued-prince @evelynrosestuff @andysnewgroove @jotaros-bara-tiddies

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Did you like it? Would you like to read more fics like this one or do you enjoy stories with more plot? I would like to know so that I know which fics I should focus more on (because I have plenty ideas- some would have more parts and some would be under 500 words depending on the plot)

[misssunflowersandsangria]

Sparks

Ahh! Happy Birthday Shikamaru! This story has nothing to do with his birthday but here's something cute and fluffy like a yummy birthday cake.

Summary:  After a less than memorable first date with Temari, Shikamaru is determined to make the next one better.

*

**

Sparks

**

Chouji and Ino were surprised walking into the dimly lit room with the curtains pulled tightly closed.  A half eaten meal left on the table. This didn’t look like the living space of someone who just had a date with the love of their life. 

“Hey Shikamaru.” 

“You okay?”  Chouji poked at the lump on the bed and said shinobi sat up to brush a hand through his unruly hair. 

“I’m fine.”  They looked thoroughly unconvinced. Shikamaru should have known that they’d be showing up after he kept avoiding seeing them. 

“So…uhm how was your date with Temari?” 

Their friend groaned into the hands that were covering his face. “It was a disaster.”

“Really?”

“From where we were it seemed like you two were hitting it off.”  The utterly smitten look on his face was a surprising sight to see.

He bit back an annoyed statement about them snooping to sigh.

“The date was fine. We talked, the food was good but it just didn’t seem like a date would feel like I guess.  It was just like… a dinner between friends.  We’ve been friends for so long that I don’t know that we know how to be any more than that.”

“Is that what you want? Just to be friends with Temari?”

He’d contemplated that question since their date but kept coming up with the same answer. “No, I like her. I wouldn’t have asked her out otherwise. I just don’t know if she feels the same way and I worry that after our date she might think that all I’m interested in is being friends.”

“How did the night end?” He was annoyed knowing that Ino was fishing for information.

“Why? Was your date with Sai any better?”. He bit back as their dates had occurred around the same time. 

She threw her hair back with a smug smile. “It was perfect. He gave me a bouquet of flowers. He was sweet and charming all night. And the kiss at the end of the night was just incredible.”  

Even socially stunted Sai knew how to have a better first date than him.  This was all so unfamiliar and new.  He didn’t thrive in unfamiliar places and having to navigate relationships and feelings was challenging.  

The tense look across Shikamaru’s face halted Ino’s daydream. 

“How did the night end?” Ino asked again carefully. 

“Well we were standing outside her door for a while. She was playing with her keys so it seemed like she wanted to go inside.   It was starting to feel awkward so I shook her hand and said good night.”

“You shook her hand?”  Even Chouji was shocked. 

“What was I supposed to do?”

“Kiss her you idiot. She was clearly waiting for something.”

He blushed at the thought. “What if she didn’t want to kiss me?”

“Does Temari seem like the type to just let someone kiss her. She would have made it painfully obvious if she didn’t.”

“Fuck.”  He groaned and laid back in bed. He prayed that he hadn’t messed up his one opportunity. 

“So what do I do now?”  Chouji and Ino couldn’t help but be a little amused.  Shikamaru was their resident genius, smart and shrewd.  Having him ask for their advice must have been humbling. 

“Ask her out again, be really honest about how you feel and this time kiss her.” 

*

**

Once his teammates left, Shikamaru made his way to the inn where Temari was staying. He wanted to ask her out again and was sure that this time things would be different. If he was lucky she’d agree and perhaps this time their night would end differently. 

“Shikamaru?”  Temari was surprised to find him a nervous wreck at her door. 

Shikamaru saw her and his rational plan to talk about their relationship and it’s possible future came crashing down. He quickly prayed that his teammate's advice was correct and pulled Temari into a kiss. 

He felt her tense before she melted into him. Her arms crossed behind his head. Soft and warm her lips fit so perfectly against his. 

He took a quick breath once their lips parted. His hands were firmly around her waist never wanting to let go.

“Tem-“ 

“More…kiss me more…”. Her breathless whimper propelled him forward. 

His hand moved to cradle the back of her head as he pushed her against the door. His weight heavy against her.  Lips hungry. Needy.  His rough hands moved wherever they could to feel warm skin against his finger tips. 

He’d always known that Temari was incredible. Strong, lean body with sun rayed hair. And teal eyes that were so unique and her own. 

Her lips though were his weakness. The way that they’d quirk up into that smug smirk. But sometimes soften into that sweet smile only he knew. Right now firmly pressed against his own he was left undone. 

He’d been worried after their first date that perhaps that spark wasn't there to push them beyond friendship. He was so happy that he’d been wrong. 

She pulled herself closer to him and yet it didn’t feel like enough. She knew it never would be. 

Her heavy pants sang in his ears but her soft whimpers wordlessly asking him to keep kissing her was making him dizzy. 

It was a state of weightlessness, disorienting but free that he’d gladly stay in. 

*

**

Later, they sat together and he held her perched on his lap. He preferred to spend the night using his mouth for other things but he wanted to clear the air.  It wasn’t easy but he told her what he thought about their first date and some insecurities that he had. It was awkward and embarrassing but honesty was what they’d built their friendship on. 

“I was worried that I’d bored you, or maybe you thought it was just a normal friendly dinner.  Perhaps I should have made it much more elaborate just so you really knew how I felt. 

Temari paused to stare at him intently. He tried to keep his eyes on hers but they inevitably drifted to stare at her lips. They quirked into a sweet grin. 

“I look at it differently. I think that it’s something that I’ve learned from you. There can be a lot of joy in everyday life. Cloud watching, deer keeping, lazy, familiar, quiet moments. So yes, perhaps there will be parts of our relationships that seem normal or routine but in some ways I like it. Because you’re my safe place, my stability. That’s all I’ve ever wanted.”  Her hand affectionately brushed through his hair.  Love shining in her deep eyes.  

“It’s you.”

He was surprised by her response even though he shouldn’t have been. Their lives had always been marred by a touch of chaos and uncertainty.  He’d gladly be her anchor.

.“Tem…”. He pulled her in tight kissing her surely and soundly. 

“Life together with you will always be an incredible adventure. As long as it’s you and me in the end.” 

She relaxed into him and his view of their future did sound incredible. 

“They were right by the way. I really did want you to kiss me that night.”  She admitted with a blush. She’d never been more annoyed at the supposed genius. 

“I’ll never make that same mistake again.”  And he sealed that promise with a kiss.

*

**

My deers! How have you been? I miss you all. I hope that you enjoyed this little story from me. It was inspired by something that I think I read somewhere about Temari and Shika's first date.

I have so many WIP/ideas but I'm terribly unmotivated to write. This story has been sitting in my folder for months now so I decided to clean it up for Shika's birthday. Okay, babes please continue to take care of yourselves. I love you all!

[boomerangguy]

Hello friend! Just out of complete random curiosity, what would you say are your most favorite fanfic tropes? Please feel free to answer in great detail. 😋

Myarg!!! 🤩 Thank you so much for this ask! It’s made me do some thinking about: a) what actually qualifies as a fanfic trope, and b) which ones I like the most! Here’s what I’ve come up with…so I hope this is what you’re looking for! 😬

“…and they were roommates!” / ‘only one bed’

Sadly, the two-and-of-a-half-thousand fics on AO3 tagged with ‘Sokka/Suki’ have appallingly little Sukka content. 😔 I’ve only come across, like, one Sukka fic ever that uses one of these two, Apartment 3E on FF.net, but I have read fics with this trope some for other ships that were pretty fun. What I like about these tropes—and why I grouped them together—is because awkward, forced-bonding situations usually make for plenty of humor, pining, good-natured conflict, and romantic and/or sexual tension. And don’t all those things work with Sukka perfectly??? 😩 I can just picture them stuck in the same bed (as rivals or obliviously lovesick ‘friends’), and Sokka rolling over on Suki’s side in the middle of the night while blabbering some gibberish in his sleep. She wakes up and shoves him off the edge of the bed, but even on the floor, he’s still out cold—and meanwhile Suki starts to feel guilty, so she gets up and tries to haul him back up onto the bed. But she finds out that Sokka is a lot heavier than she previously thought…and he’s got all these muscles…and this really cute sleeping face…and he’s…oh shit, he’s waking up! 😏

Fake Dating / Under Cover

Just like the last pair, these two tropes aren’t exactly the same, of course, but there’s a similar theme. Whether it’s something as cute and fluffy as ‘hey I need a bf/gf to take home for the holidays so my mom will stop bugging me’ or as angsty and complex as ‘I must infiltrate the palace and earn the trust of the rival prince/princess so I can later betray them,’ there’s always the element of blurring what’s pretend and what’s real—and trying to find out where you started to fall in love along the way. 🥰 The vibes aren’t quite as close to the canon Sukka romance as the two tropes above are, but that’s hardly necessary! There’s a great Sukka fake dating fic by @asajjvxntress that I absolutely love! 🤌

(Here’s a third below the cut that’s not exactly SFW, but these days I have to be careful what I tag/post on tumblr, so it’s gonna be kinda vague 😅)

“Wtf??? Mom and Dad still do it???”

Alright, is this a real fanfic trope? Not really! 😆 I think I’ve seen it a few times before, but it’s the concept behind the first fic I ever posted on AO3, The Councilman’s Mistress, and I absolutely love it. There’s this depressing (and unfounded imo) skepticism among Millennials/Gen Z that marriage begets the death of romance and the beginning of passionless mundanity. 😣 But I refuse to buy into that 🥺 and I adore the idea of my married OTPs keeping things steamy even into their 30s and 40s (at least), especially when that means desperately trying to find time during their busy schedules and away from their kids. Applying this mostly-self-invented ‘trope’ to my OTPs is fun, of course, but tbh, I like it for their parents just as much, if not more! 😜 For ATLA, Kyakoda is my preferred horny-parents-pairing. (And I really like Hakursa, but it’s tough to compete with that SWT momilf/dadilf duo. 🥵) My (hopelessly) massive WIP folder has a fic where Sokka brings Suki home from college to meet his parents, and when he texts his mom that he’s going to arrive a little earlier than expected, she doesn’t answer…because Kya’s phone is in her jeans…and her jeans are crumpled up on the kitchen floor. 😛 It’s one I’m not sure I’ll finish, so I’d definitely consider passing it along to another Sukka writer if they felt inclined to write it themselves. 👀 (I’ve already rambled plenty, but this pseudo-trope opens the door for ‘bonus babies’ conceived when the couple’s older children are already teenagers or young adults…an idea I got from watching Father of the Bride Part II on TV as a little kid and have not forgotten in the past fifteen-or-so years. 😂)

Anyway, thank you so much for the ask, @myargalargan!!! 😊 (And I promise that I’ll answer any future asks MUCH sooner!) This really got me thinking about the kind of fic Sukka needs to have written for them… 🧐

(And speaking of Sukka fics, I got the inspiration for a silly-and-corny ficlet while thinking about my favorite tropes—it’s pretty much just goofy, cracky nonsense, but I couldn’t get it out of my head. 🤪 So here’s Cantaloupes, rated M for sexual innuendo.)

[plague-of-insomnia]

WIP LIST GAME

rules: post the names of all the files in your WIP folder, regardless of how non-descriptive or ridiculous. Let people send you an ask with the title that most intrigues them and then post a little snippet of it or tell them something about it! and then tag as many people as you have WIPs.

(Started a new post bc last one was long)

My energy levels have been abysmal due to my chronic illness getting worse (damn insurance), so I’m not able to write hardly at all, sadly. But these are my current and future projects:

I am so bad with titles so I almost never figure that out until the last minute so you’ll have to make do with working titles for most of these 😅.

Fan fic

Where Demons Hide (Sebaciel, et al, modern mafia au) - multichapter, currently at 10/?? chapters {priority #1} Read here.

The Promise AU (Sebard, modern AU) - multipart series of related oneshots; currently 3 published and 1-3 more are in the works Read here.

Deadly Nightshade (Sebaciel, slow burn coming of age mystery, set a few years after canon) - multichapter, currently at 5/?? chapters Read here.

Modern AU Eruri WIP (Not Kuro: AoT, Eruri, CEO Erwin and Personal Assistant Levi; Levi must convince Erwin to finally live for himself and not his guilt and others’ expectations) - not yet published; planning stage, probably ~5 chapters

Mute Sebastian WIP (Sebagni, slow burn modern au with a mute sebastian and an ASL interpreter Agni) - not yet published, planned, 1 ch partly written; probably ~5-10 chapters

Canon Sebard WIP (Sebard, enemies to lovers, showing the development of their relationship from their meeting to the present of the manga) - not yet published (except some ficlets); planning stage

Dadbastian Crack (Sebaciel, enemies to lovers; Sebastian is a successful—if eccentric— YouTuber who dresses his cats in elaborate Victorian costumes and serves them as their butler. Ciel has business with him, even if he’s convinced Sebastian’s nuts) - not yet published; partly written; probably a oneshot

Artist Sebastian (Sebardagni, Sebagni, Bardagni, enemies to lovers; mafia au/bodyguard au; epileptic Sebastian) - Sebastian is a reclusive artist famous for his disturbing oil paintings, but FBI agent Bard is suspicious he’s involved with his brother Claude’s drug business and goes undercover to find out, joining his security team. But Seb doesn’t trust easily, only allowing Agni—his personal bodyguard—close, not making the job easy... It doesn’t help that Claude is still obsessed with his little brother and wants him for himself... - not yet published; in planning stages

Maneater (Sebard(Agni), enemies to... well, still enemies, but they fuck; demon incubus Sebastian and corrupt cop Bard) - ch 2 written but needs revision {taken over from @chromehoplite } Read here.

Undertaker’s Tales of Terror - intended to be a series of spooky tales, but I’ve only been able to write one so far (“The Cabin”). I have ideas for plenty more, but don’t know when I’ll be able to write them

Sequels to existing oneshots: like “Haunted & Horny” (Sebardciel) and “Voyeur,” (Sebard) I plan to write a second fic for each of these eventually.

I also have a lot of other ideas that are in the deep freezer, like a few crossovers (Pet Shop of Horrors, Kamisama Kiss) and Bard as a 40s defective that I hope to someday bring to life, but they may sadly never happen...

OW - only listing my most active priorities atm

In/Exhale: S4 - Continues where S3 left off. Kai is forced to deal with the possibility of life without his brother, and managing his mental illness crisis amidst it all. Does he choose himself or his brother/family? {delayed} Read (S1) here.

Love UnSeen - M/M romance with blind history professor MC and photographer/HS art teacher love interest set in New Orleans amidst a mystery involving the MC’s father and his family Mardi Gras Krewe {~50% written, first draft; on hold for now}

Thank you @wicked-game-black-butler and @princeofdarkness00 for the tag. I tag:

...it’s been so long, anyone can do this! Maybe @cielpansyhive and @aralezinspace and anyone else interested!

Also, feel free to send me asks about any of these any time...! I know I can be slow to respond as my energy levels are so low, but I will when I’m able :). I love seeing people excited about my writing...!