#i now have new plotbunnies

[giallos]

a truly terrible idea has latched hold of my gremlin brain which is, buck and tommy do break up so that buck can pursue eddie because either tommy thinks buck is in love with eddie or buck feels like he should be with eddie because everyone else keeps suggesting there's something more there BUT buck/eddie getting together changes their dynamic so much that neither of them are enjoying themselves (and they're worrying about losing what made their friendship so special because of all the changes to the dynamic) AND buck and tommy keep hooking up [air quotes] platonically (with tommy stumbling into inconvenient feelings and pining pathetically for buck while fucking him) while buck struggles to sort out intense feelings toward eddie (which obviously have to be romantic of course) vs. his calm, more settled feelings toward tommy (they're not as intense as his feelings about eddie so they can't possibly be romantic) blah blah long story slightly less long but buck realizes he's been in love with tommy the whole time and was having trouble separating strong but platonic feelings for eddie from his romantic feelings toward tommy and then tommy's like "newsflash asshole i've been in love with you the whole goddamn time"

i'll never write it because it's irredeemably stupid and i value my peace but it IS sitting in my hindbrain tormenting me right now

[dira333]

Hey hey, Dira, hope you've been well lately and I hope you're having a good day!! <3

I see your new plotbunny ask, and I have come to request Kenma or Osamu because I have been thinking about them sm lately 😭 <333

hi there, thanks for sending something in...

I love Kenma and even though this isn't technically in the baby topic anymore, I have this little drabble I wrote for my Kenma long fic...

tw: period mention, blood

“MOM!” Hitoka’s voice is shrill against the quietness of their house.

“MOM!!!” There’s a pitch of panic in her voice now and the door opens right as she opens her mouth to scream again. 

But it’s not her mother who’s standing in the door, it’s her father. 

“Go away!” She’s throwing a pillow at him that he catches with ease before balking at the blood stains on the white fabric.

“Shit! Did you cut yourself? Are you hurt?!”

“I want mom!” She yelps instead, fumbling to move further towards the wall when he steps closer. “This is woman stuff.”

“Oh…” He breathes out in understanding. “It’s fine Baby, I got you.”

“No, I want mom.”

“Mom’s not here.” He reminds her softly. “She’s gone for training week. But I’m here, don’t worry, we’ve got this.”

“But I want mom!”

She’s full on crying now, her bloodied hands pressed against her cheeks even though it’s disgusting and it hurts and-

Cool arms wrap around her, her face is pushed forward into his sweater. It feels like her father is trying to hold her together but he might also try to lift her up - something he managed the last time when she was about 6 years old.

“I’ve got you.” He tells her softly. “Everything is going to be okay. We’ll get you cleaned up and then we go and visit Mom, okay?”

“Okay.” She hates how small her voice sounds but at least her Dad sounds like he knows what he’s doing.

“Will the blood wash out?” She asks anxiously when the washing cycle starts.

“I don’t know.” He tells her honestly. “Sometimes it does, sometimes it doesn’t, like it has a mind of it’s own. Your birth ruined my favorite sheets.”

“Ugh, Dad, TMI.”

“Apple Pie for Breakfast?”

“Really?”

“Yeah. Really. You need food in your tummy with those painkillers.”

[gerec]

hi there!! im new to the cherik fandom and your blog has been SO helpful im having the time of my life here every day reading your recommendations!! this is not a fic request but more of a prompt? i have this idea in my mind but i have nowhere to share so im sending it here in case someone feels interested. ive been thinking about this for MONTHS and i think it works so well with cherik bc of the whole multiverse thing so. erik and charles for some reason have to go to another universe and to do what they need to do they need to find their variants, nothing romantic has ever happened between them so they're in that phase where they were friends but now they're enemies and fighting and bickering all the time and they think its the same thing with their variants. but when they get there they find out their variants are together (as boyfriends or husbands, im thinking about them following their variants to kinda spy on them and everything is normal until they start kissing and/or having sex, like they're hiding in a tiny closet and need to be there quiet and almost breathing the same air while their variants are fucking) and it messes up with their heads because "what do you Mean my variant is dating him?" and thats the push they need to start thinking how it would be a relationship with each other. cherik already has so much tension as friends imagine them as enemies fighting after all of this? the sexual tension would be out of the charts!!! everytime theyd get too close to each other they'd remember how they had to watch other versions of themselves kiss and touch and moan and its getting unbearable. erik would be even more tense and on guard around charles and charles would take it personally bc he thinks erik now its disgusted or repulsed by him (mr magneto cant even look at him in the eye) until he snaps and kiss charles. or a kinda twisted version of this is cherik going to another universe where their variants are evil AND together (again, they only find out about this when they're already there), for some reason their powers dont work in this universe so they end up getting caught by their variants and when their variants found out about their "hatred" towards each other they decide to play with them and "give them a show". dark!charles using his powers to make charles and erik unable to move, making them watch dark!erik and himself having sex, dark!erik going on a rant about how they're wasting time fighting when they work better together, how they were made for each other, dark!charles would even connect all their minds together so erik and charles would be able to feel their pleasure. dark!erik fucking dark!charles unable to keep his mouth shut about how his charles is beautiful!!!@)#&@(#&@>×> idk if there’s any fic like this already but i cant stop thinking about it

Hi Anon! Happy to have you in fandom and I'm glad you're enjoying your time on my blog :D

Love your prompts and happy to share this with the world in the hopes that someone gets plotbunnied and decides to pick it up for their next fic!!!

[istadris]

Bend or Break

[ @akibouken you’re to blame for motivating me to finally write this plotbunny down with your cute Luigi petting art. Sorry about the angst, but know that I had your artstyle in mind while writing]

[EDIT] : now on AO3

[EDIT 2] now with a "sequel"

*

The human would not break.

Bowser knew it from his eyes. No matter how terrified, cowardly, vulnerable he was, trapped alone in a hostile land at the mercy of a powerful king, crushed in his grip, threatened of unending suffering, the human’s eyes still showed, buried beneath the fear and despair, a determination to not give anything about the other one. All Bowser had been able to obtain were accidental slips born from confusion and panic: that they knew each other, that they were brothers. Nothing else since.

He wouldn’t break.

So Bowser decided to switch tactics.

After leaving him to stew an appropriate amount of time in the jails, Bowser had the human brought again to the throne room.

This time his hands were free: what was the need to tie them up, when fear bound him more efficiently than shackles? It added another subtle layer of humiliation to the ordeal: to be considered so little a threat that restraining him would be useless. None of Bowser’s enemies would ever let him walk freely and unbound on their grounds if they had the opportunity.

Sitting on his throne, he took his time to observe his prisoner at the bottom of the stairs. He was cowering, darting nervous looks around him in a vain search for an escape. He had none of the defiance that some captives showed Bowser in the past: no glaring, no proud stature, no insolent spitting at his feet. Not even the courage to look at him.

“Come closer.”

The human didn’t move from his spot.

Bowser narrowed his eyes.

“I won’t ask again.”

The human relented, slowly climbing the steps toward the thrones, his hands clutched to his chest, his shoulders hunched, trembling more and more with each step, until he stopped on the last one, his eyes downcast and closed as if expecting to be torched on the spot if he breathed in the wrong direction.

Bowser huffed in amusement.

“Are you scared?”

“Y-y-you know the-the answer”, the human managed to stutter with a nervous laugh, “Of c-course I am.”

“More than usual?”

“Why-what do you m-mean?”

“That you’re a coward, and an easy target.” The human flinched at the harsh words but didn’t protest. “Everything about you screams that you’re used to being afraid. Easy to bully and push around, running and hiding at the first sign of danger, unable to defend yourself.”

It didn’t take a genius to guess any of that. He had met Toads braver than his man.

“Yet you stand up to me and refuse to yield. Why, I wonder…maybe because you’re also used to facing danger with someone by your side? Someone who protects you and keeps you safe.” From the way the human flinched as in caught red-handed, he got it spot on.

“You think he’ll come for you. Because he’s your brother.”

“M-Maybe. What would you know about f-family?” the human spat in the most aggressive tone Bowser had ever heard him use.

The prisoner didn’t know that in any other circumstances, Bowser would have torched him alive and ripped him apart limb from limb for such disrespect. Instead, he leaned forward with a low hum, not aggressive enough for a growl, but enough to make his prisoner yelp and cover his head in his arms.

Bowser let the silence weigh in the room for several seconds. After a moment, the human peeked out from behind his arms, and looked confusedly as Bowser sat back down in his throne.

“I have news about him. Your brother.”

It had the effect of a bob-omb on the captive: stunned, gaping, unwilling to believe it. It was enough to make him forget his fear for a moment, with something looking like relief daring to peek through.

“What-how…I thought-?”

“I have spies. Eyes and ears in every kingdom. Their reports take a bit of time to arrive though. I hoped you’d be faster to give me answers, but well.”

The human was burning to know more, he could see it, but afraid to ask. Afraid of what Bowser could ask in exchange, or of giving something away in his eagerness? It did not matter, as Bowser curled his claws to inspect them, as if disinterested by the matter, before talking again.

“They told me he is in the Mushroom Kingdom.”

“Mushroom …?”

“A quaint little place, far away from here. All green hills and mushroom fields, full of friendly faces, safe and soft. The kind of place you’re not in a hurry to leave. You’d love it.”

“How…” the human shut himself up, biting his lips for several seconds before finally asking in a quavering voice, “how …is he?”

Bowser held back from smirking as his prey took the bait.

“They told me he’s doing very well there, your brother. Has been there for…hm, about as long as you have been here. A month, by now? ”

“That long?!”

“He’s settled there quickly, from what I heard. He’s learning the local ways. Got himself a cosy place. Made friends all over the place, including the princess.”

“The…princess?”

“Who wouldn’t like her? She might be my enemy, but she's a delightful woman. Brave, clever, fascinating, beautiful to top it off...and from what I was told, she's sweet on him too. Not that he minds, on the contrary, he's always around her...I wonder when he'll finally come for you.”

He didn’t mention the reports of the red-clad human throwing himself from dawn to dusk over training courses to get stronger, no matter how many bones he would break in the process. Nor that the princess had to stop him by force from going alone in the wilds when he had grown desperate from impatience. He didn’t mention the rumours about the kind-hearted human obsessed with finding his missing brother to the point some worried about his sanity.

Instead, he took in the nervousness growing in his prisoner’s face; the growing questioning of what he had taken as granted. The shock of the realisation that help would not come. Because if his brother wasn’t held back, if he was free and in good health, why would he take so long? Bowser observed the expression of the man coming to the dreadful realisation that this time, he was truly alone.

“What…what if you’re lying? What says he’s even still…still okay?”

Bowser frowned outwardly at the accusation, but he was internally satisfied. His captive was now grasping at straws, clinging to a desperate hope that he had not been betrayed.

“Because if he was dead”, he stated calmly, “I wouldn’t need to concern myself about him anymore, and if I had captured him, I would brag about it for all to hear.” He narrowed his eyes, staring straight into the human’s gaze. “You might find it hard to believe, but everything I told you, since you first arrived in my walls, was the truth. Whether you like it or not.”

“I…I don’t believe you. He’s not like…like you said.”

The words would have been defiant if they weren’t said in such a small, wavering voice. He didn’t believe his own words.

Was there bad blood between the two humans right before their arrival? Or did he have doubts before, about the strength of their bond, but pushed down deep under denial and illusions? Had he feared to be abandoned before? This was a man who couldn’t bear to be alone, used as he was to a partner, a protector against the world’s fury.

He wanted, more than anything, to feel safe.

“Come closer.”

This time, the human obeyed right away, stepping forward as if in a daze, his haunted eyes fixed to the ground, until he was standing right in front of Bowser. One more step, and he would have stood between his legs.

“You asked me what I would know about family. More than you think, as I have one myself.”

The wide blue eyes looked up to him, surprise piercing through the anguish in them.

“…A family? You?”

“A son. My pride, my joy, my greatest treasure. I had to leave him in my capital for his safety during this conquest.” a melancholic smile escaped him as he thought of the last time he had seen Junior: his son had been so proud to show him his new spells and had insisted to come along with him. It had broken his heart to refuse, but he had been firm in his decision.

“If anyone” he raised his fist and clenched hard enough to break stone, “anything, dared to take him away from me, I would tear this world apart from earth to sky and burn it to the ground to find him. I would sunder entire kingdoms before allowing anyone to even slow me down."

He let the hidden question hang in the air. A simple, innocent question with an answer that terrified the human to his very core.

Would your brother even do the same?

Maybe he would have been certain of the answer before. But here, now, after what he had just heard? He couldn’t trust it anymore. He was lost, away from the stability of his life, with nothing solid to stand on.

His head held low, his eyes hidden by his hair, the human’s shoulders started shaking. A choked sob escaped him, then another, and he covered his face in his hands as he wept, gasping for air between his tears.

Bowser held out his hand and, gently, wrapped it around the human’s back before pulling him closer. The human flinched but didn’t try to move away as Bowser rubbed his hand up and down his back, shushing softly through the whole time. Comforting. Safe.

His fingers moved to the man’s head, combing through his hair with the utmost care. It seemed to help soothing the man, his shaking slowly growing fainter, as well as his sobs. Finally, with a final sniffle, he pulled away and wiped at his eyes, Bowser’s massive hand still curled around his tiny body.

For the first time, Bowser noticed the dark bags under the human’s eyes, his haggard features, the dirt and sweat and tears all over his skin and clothes. Bowser’s thumb, almost as big as his captive’s head, pressed against his cheek, stroking it slowly.

“You’re exhausted.”

The human leaned into the touch, eyes half closed, giving the smallest nod.

“Yes.” He breathed out, so softly Bowser could barely hear it.

“I’ll have you brought to a more comfortable cell.”

“Why would you even do that?” The human murmured, closing his eyes completely and letting out a long, weary sigh. “I’ll be dead soon, won’t I?”

“What makes you think so?”

“You kept me alive because you wanted info about my brother. Now your spies know probably more about him than I do. I’m past being useful.”

He sounded too calm about it. Exhausted, yes, but most of all resigned. Taking what little comfort he thought he had left before his end, as if his tears had washed away his will to live.

Bowser tilted his head. Carefully, his thumb pressed under the human’s chin, pushing it up until he was facing him, his eyes still closed. Waiting for the claw to sink into his throat.

“Look at me.”

He obeyed, opening empty, defeated eyes that stared blankly at the king.

“Why should your worth always be tied to your brother?”

The human blinked from the unexpected answer. Bowser only smiled softly and moved his fingers to the scalp of the captive, returning to a gentle stroking of the soft hair, which lulled the human into closing his eyes again, this time with a relaxed sigh.

“I can’t wait for you to meet my Junior. He’s a very bright lad, very curious. He’ll have so many questions about your kind.”

Then, with the most gentleness he was able to muster, Bowser finally pulled his hand away, and for a moment the human followed the movement, before opening his eyes suddenly and stopping himself, but not before the king noticed it.

“Now leave. Take some rest.”

This time, the human hesitated before moving.

He finally turned and descended the stairs. Slowly, almost reluctantly; a bone-tired exhaustion in his steps, but for the first time since his arrival, he had stopped shaking in fear.

Bowser rested his elbow on the throne and his head on his fist, following his prisoner’s movements with a satisfied smirk.

The human would not break, but soon he would bend.

[darkshrimpemotions]

My 300th Fic on AO3

I've been on 299 fics published to AO3 for weeks now. At first I was like "299 fics? Wow! That's a lot. That's very cool. I should make my 300th fic something really special." But then I got in my head about it, and nothing seemed good enough.

Then a plotbunny grabbed me by the ears today and shook me like a stubborn ketchup bottle.

So here it is, my 300th fic on AO3. A shamelessly indulgent little one-shot that I wrote for the pure fun of it, like god and our foremothers intended.

Also. Happy Fingers In My Mouth Friday. <3

Read on AO3

Nandor rises from the table, feeling full and satisfied and...happy? At peace? It is a new feeling for him, a warmth that seems to radiate from his center outward, a song echoing in his heart for hours now. A song with one perfect lyric on repeat.

Guillermo.

Guillermo is a vampire. Immortal. Powerful. And he is going to stay with him...them. He is going to live in the mansion with them all as an equal. He will be the last thing Nandor sees each morning and the first thing he sees each night.

Of course...Nandor hasn't actually had that conversation with him yet. To ask him to set up a coffin in Nandor's crypt. The very thought makes him nervous. But Guillermo has always liked his room! So maybe he will jump at the chance to move in. Maybe Nandor won't have to go any deeper than the simple offer. Maybe--

Nandor frowns, his anxious thoughts coming to a halt as his eyes land on the very much still-unbitten man he incapacitated for Guillermo to feed from. Where is Guillermo? He scans the room.

There. Nandor's heart sinks, that warmth in his chest flickering, guttering like an overspent candle. Guillermo is hovering at the edge of the room, hands pressed anxiously to the front of his sweater, one atop the other, eyes darting around the room with uncertainty and a dawning horror that makes Nandor's stomach clench.

He was afraid of this. It's an old fear. It was born the day, some years ago now, when he realized he actually wouldn't mind Guillermo sticking around forever…because he knew from the moment he saw him that this sweet, soft-spoken creature was not meant to survive by the deaths of others. Not due to weakness, no. Nandor has always seen plenty of strength beneath the soft exterior Guillermo projects. But it takes more than strength to make one suited to be a vampire. It takes a ruthlessness, a selfishness that few truly possess. And if Guillermo was going to have a choice, like so many did not–like Nandor himself did not–he would rather Guillermo be ready for the brutal reality of this life than be simply forced to adapt to it.

He has watched Guillermo over all these years, waiting and hoping for a glimpse of some killer instinct, a hungry glint in his eye. Something which would prove Nandor wrong. Something to give him hope.

He thought he saw it a few times. When Guillermo killed Carol, Simon's strange crew member, Nandor should have felt horror. But all he could muster at the time was a giddy excitement. His sweet, timid little familiar...a vampire killer! And at the theatre, chained down with silver and helpless, Nandor had watched as Guillermo tore through the room like a cyclone, and all he thought was yes, yes, yes.

Finally, here was one who could stand at Nandor's side through the ages, face an eternity of death without flinching. The shiver that had run through him at the look in Guillermo’s eyes when his bloody work was finished disconnected Nandor's brain for a moment. He was practically vibrating with excitement the whole way home. He ran ahead to "inspect" the cage--truly what he did was weaken the bars in a few key places--and put on a stern face as the others brought Guillermo down to lock him in.

The look Guillermo had given him then was all indignation and betrayal, but Nandor stood easily beneath the weight of it, shoulders back and head held high. He knew Guillermo would break free in a few hours, and the first place he would come would be to his traitorous master. He would open Nandor's coffin with glorious murder in his eyes, and Nandor would be ready. Ready to fight him, ready to kneel at his feet in the end and offer him what he always wanted: for Nandor to turn him into a vampire.

But then Guillermo had not come for him. Instead, he sat docile in his cage, day and night, declaring that they were his family and he would never hurt them. Trying to prove his loyalty through suffering and perseverance. Nandor's heart had broken, because how could Guillermo hope to live by death if he wouldn't strike out for his own sake? To save his own life?

Whatever fluttering hope Nandor had held onto died completely when Guillermo submitted to hypnosis rather than fight those who would enthrall him...only to come roaring back to life months later when he brought Nandor to his knees with a single practiced move, hissing in his ear that he was immune to hypnosis. He could have killed them all at any time, Nandor had realized. He simply chose not to. That was a different level of power.

It was the kind of power Nandor had known, once upon a time. When you were truly the strongest person in the room, you could afford to be magnanimous to those around you. Perhaps you were even obligated to be merciful. Like a father to his helpless children, sparing the rod not because you can, but because you hold all the power and therefore you must. At last , Nandor had thought then. At last at last at last .

He had not fallen to his knees at Guillermo’s feet, though they were weak enough at the sight of him in the glow of his victory that it would not have been merely for show if Nandor had. He stood tall and looked Guillermo in the eyes instead, and offered him eternity.

Guillermo had accepted with a smile that burrowed beneath Nandor's ribcage, taking up residence there without his permission. But fate had other plans for them, and Nandor once more felt his hope die as he waited on an empty platform for a man who never came.

That was the end of it, he thought. No more resurrections.

But then Guillermo went and got himself turned by someone else.

Nandor had been furious at first. Murderously angry in a way he hadn't felt since he was human, with a beating heart and flowing blood and a ticking clock at the back of his consciousness, counting down his time left on earth. It was harder to summon that kind of rage as a vampire. Everything was muted, far away, when you had forever to feel each feeling.

But he’d felt this like a man with a finite number to his days. His hands itched to do violence, irrevocable, bloody, total. And if there was hurt, lurking somewhere behind that red wall of rage? Nandor wasn't willing to look for it.

But as the days went by and the anger cooled, the hurt made itself known anyway. And as hurt turned to acceptance, a part of Nandor couldn't help but wonder why he was so upset in the first place. Hadn't he waited for this? For incontrovertible proof that Guillermo was ready and willing to take what he wanted? Hadn't he searched for it, over and over, grieving each time it failed to manifest fully?

And now here it was! Guillermo had taken what he wanted at last, found the limit of his patience and his loyalty and his affection. That pained him, of course it did. Nandor had grown to depend on those things, perhaps even taken them for granted. But even as he sat in his feelings of hurt and betrayal and (quietly simmering now) anger, one fact stubbornly refused to remain unacknowledged: Guillermo had stayed.

He had gotten what he wanted, and Nandor had not been the one to give it to him. But he had still stayed by Nandor's side, even though he had no reason to be there any longer and would truthfully be safer somewhere far away. He had gone to the movies with him. Egged him on into going to space and then walked home with him at the end of the night. Slept under the same roof. Slept, Nandor had realized later, inside a gift Nandor had given him. Woken him up, brushed his hair, held his hand as he alighted from his coffin each evening. Even when his life had been in peril, the Baron stalking him intent on murder, had Guillermo fled then? No. He had run to Nandor. Well, to his room, anyway. Crawled into his coffin and left his warmth and his scent within to torment Nandor later. All that night, as Nandor held one of his sweaters like a security blanket and contemplated a world without Guillermo in it, as Nandor faced that world in the form of a corpse lying horribly still in his lap as he wept...Guillermo was hiding safely away in Nandor's most intimate, most private space.

And what does it mean, that they both clutched at something of the other when they needed comfort? Nandor is not stupid, whatever he might allow people to think. He’s been well aware of the way Guillermo looks at him all these years. Nandor has heard the way his heart skips beats and gallops ahead of itself sometimes, on the rare occasions when Nandor allows Guillermo close. He's felt the way his own heart lurches in response, valiantly trying to beat again in answer to Guillermo’s unspoken want.

He knows why Guillermo stayed until he could not, why he withdrew the stake from Nandor's throat when Nandor stood there, ready to die. He knows how Guillermo, who was not even a full-fledged vampire yet, managed to instinctively hypnotize his own mother when she threatened Nandor's undefended back.

It isn't only in fairytales that love can create magic.

Love. He dared not to think of it before, but tonight? When Guillermo’s eyes flashed gold and his canines grew long and sharp between his lips? When he looked at Nandor with pure joy on his face, literally weightless with happiness and levitating three feet off the ground?

Nandor let himself feel it, finally. Love. Hope. Cautious joy. Guillermo was a vampire, and he was so excited. And he was powerful. Nandor couldn't believe how powerful he was within mere seconds of his transition. No fear. No horror. No need to teach him all the little things he could do now. He did them naturally, like he was made for this life.

This life with Nandor. By his side. Forever.

But all of that is crumbling in his mind's eye now as he watches Guillermo fret and flinch on the sidelines of the party he asked for, the life he asked for. Gone is his excitement. Gone is his simple, uncomplicated joy. The specter of an eternity without Guillermo looms in Nandor’s periphery once more, huge and dark and empty. Nandor won’t…no, he can't go back there.

There is a way, of course. Something he learned when he first realized he would turn Guillermo, if only Guillermo were ever to be truly ready. The intricacies of the bond between a sire and their sireling are fascinating, truly. Not quite the simple life-and-death ultimatum he and his friends once thought. They open a path forward now, a way to give Guillermo another chance. A do-over. And oh, Nandor would enjoy at least part of it. He might have forgiven Guillermo, but he will never forgive the vampire who sired him instead of Nandor. Watching Guillermo drive a stake through that vampire's heart would be healing in a way, even as it killed a dream Nandor has only just allowed himself to want.

But he has held Guillermo’s cold, gray corpse in his arms. He has felt the desolation of a world where Guillermo no longer exists, albeit briefly. He cannot do it again. Not now, not decades from now. Never. He would rather walk into the sun. He probably will, if that day ever comes to pass.

So he does what he can live with instead. Crossing the room in a few long strides, Nandor backs Guillermo into the restaurant wall, pinning him there with his body and smothering the man's yelp of surprise with his own still-bloody mouth.

The way Guillermo melts into him immediately is beautiful, intoxicating. It surprises a groan out of Nandor that vibrates through the lips on his to echo in Guillermo’s chest, a feedback loop of desire and a relief so sharp it's almost painful. Guillermo is clutching at him with both hands, pulling him closer, and it's almost enough to make Nandor forget why he came over here in the first place.

Almost.

He draws back from their kiss with a reluctant sigh and can't help but smile at the little whine of protest from Guillermo’s throat, the way he tries to chase Nandor's lips with his own. Nandor holds him back, admiring his wide eyes and disheveled hair, the way the blood from Nandor's lips is now smeared across Guillermo’s own.

"My beautiful little creature of the night," Nandor purrs. "You are having trouble with the feeding." It isn't a question, and Guillermo ducks his head in shame.

"I..." his voice chokes off. Nandor can't have that, his Guillermo crying. He tilts that chin up with one hand, forcing Guillermo to meet his eyes.

"It is okay, Guillermo," he reassures him, soft and sincere in a way he rarely allows himself to be. "It can be difficult at first. Come with me. I will fix."

Guillermo shakes his head, but he doesn't resist when Nandor pulls him across the room, back to where the man Nandor selected for him is still slumped over, unconscious.

"Now," Nandor says, his hands steady on Guillermo’s shoulders. "Tell me what stops you."

"I..." Guillermo is tense under Nandor's touch, but he doesn’t pull away. "It's just...I lean in, and I smell his blood, but...over that, there's...other stuff."

"Mmm," Nandor hums, thoughtful. "And this other stuff...it stops you? It smells bad, or--"

"His shampoo," Guillermo interrupts, barely above a whisper. "I smell his shampoo and I think, this guy was just at CVS, browsing for shampoo, and maybe he picked this one because the smell reminds him of camping as a kid, and I can't...that's just a person , Nandor. I can't kill him."

Nandor's hands clench involuntarily on Guillermo’s shoulders as his heart sinks further. This. This is what he was afraid of. His worst fears are being realized.

But he can fix it. He can still fix it. He leans more heavily into Guillermo’s back, ducking down so his lips are right next to Guillermo’s ear.

"And all the vampires you've killed? Did they not have memories, and lives, and...shampoo? That did not stop you." If his voice is a little harsh, it can't be helped. "And what of all the victims you lured to our home over the years? Were they not people? Did they not also use the shampoo?"

"That's different," Guillermo almost sighs, leaning into Nandor even as he sounds like he wants to cry again.

"How is it different?" Nandor demands.

"I did all of that for you," Guillermo says.

And Nandor....well.

What does Nandor even say to that?

He spins Guillermo around, holding him by the arms and searching his eyes. They're shining with tears of shame and regret, but they meet Nandor's and hold there.

"It's so easy," Guillermo breathes. "To turn off everything else. The guilt, the fear. Regret. All of it. It's so fucking easy when I'm doing it for you."

If Nandor's heart still beat, it would break free of his chest at those words.

"And what of you?” he asks. “Why are you not reason enough?" Guillermo just looks at him, stricken. He has no answer.

"Fine," Nandor says at last. He guides Guillermo to one of the empty seats at the small table, and settles himself into another.

"I will do this for you," Nandor says. "And you? Will do it for me."

"What--" Guillermo starts to ask, but his question dies as Nandor leans in and pierces the throat of the unfortunate man with the awful shampoo.

It is a very well-placed bite, if Nandor does say so himself. Right on the front of the neck--a difficult spot to get to!--and not so deep as to cause a giant mess. The blood wells slowly from the shallow punctures, pooling in the hollow of the dying man's throat. Nandor must have hit him quite hard over the head, because he doesn't stir, not even when his breathing takes on a slightly wet, gurgling quality.

Guillermo stares at the man with mingled horror and pity, and Nandor can't have that. He cannot let Guillermo get lost in the reality of this meaningless human’s fate. He takes Guillermo’s chin in one hand, pulling his gaze back where it belongs. With the other, he dips two fingers in the growing pool of rich, red blood.

"Open your mouth," he orders. Guillermo's eyes go wide, but somewhat to Nandor's surprise, he does as he's told without hesitation.

Nandor slips his bloody fingers between Guillermo’s lips, bracing himself for Guillermo to fight him, to pull away. He doesn’t. He stays still, letting Nandor do what he wants, his eyes never wavering from Nandor’s own.

Nandor sees the moment when the taste hits his tongue.

"Mmmf," Guillermo manages, his lips closing instinctively as he sucks and licks the blood from Nandor's fingers. The little moan of contentment he lets out is more felt than heard.

Nandor is transfixed. He has never seen Guillermo like this, but his mind readily supplies other scenarios where Guillermo might look up at him thus. He feels dizzy. If he needed to breathe he’d be in real trouble, because he is pretty sure he’s forgotten how.

Nandor withdraws reluctantly at last only to coat his fingers in more blood--the pool now overflowing to drip sluggishly down the man's neck and onto the table. He brings his fingers back to Guillermo's lips and can't hold in a little moan of his own at the way Guillermo eagerly takes them in, looking up at Nandor from under his eyelashes as he accepts this offering, his hands coming up to hold Nandor's hand in place by the wrist. His mouth is warm and wet, his tongue gentle and clever as it circles Nandor's fingers, chasing the taste of blood. His teeth graze Nandor's knuckles as he sucks, hard, and Nandor thinks he might die right there. Crumble to dust with his hand trapped in the mouth of his only natural predator. He wishes he could fit all of himself inside that mouth, hide there in the darkness, surrounded by Guillermo, consumed by him.

This was only meant to feed Guillermo, to help get him past the worst of this unfortunate eleventh-hour respect for human life, but it is quickly morphing into something entirely out of Nandor's control. He's half-hard already, after barely more than a minute of watching Guillermo take in his fingers with his mouth like he's just been waiting to do it, waiting for Nandor to offer. His expression as he savors the blood Nandor is feeding him is beatific, practically glowing. Nandor himself might be having a religious experience for the first time in seven hundred years.

He withdraws again for more blood, watching the emotions play across Guillermo’s pretty face as he does so. He feels dizzy, aching with want for the man sitting so close to him. Especially when Guillermo pauses to kiss the tips of his blood-covered fingers before taking them in again, slowly this time, savoring.

"Guillermo," Nandor manages to choke out. When did he lose control of this situation? Did he ever have it to begin with? "Please." He doesn't even know what he's begging for.

But Guillermo must know, because he releases Nandor's fingers with an obscene, wet pop before abandoning his chair to crawl into Nandor's lap. The chair groans beneath their combined weight, but Nandor barely notices. He's too busy getting his hands underneath all those frustrating layers Guillermo wears, too busy tasting the blood on his tongue, too busy reeling from the heady feeling of being at Guillermo’s mercy, body and whatever passes for a vampire's soul.

The corpse next to them--the man is certainly dead now, his gurgling breaths having ceased all together--is cooling, all that remaining blood going to waste. But neither of them notice, far too caught up in the taste, smell, and feel of each other, and the memory they're making.

Someday, Nandor thinks hazily as Guillermo undoes the fastenings holding his robe together with practiced movements, we will look back on this and laugh. Someday far, far in the future .

And if Nandor has to feed Guillermo like this for all that time? So be it.

[not-freyja]

Linked Universe Big Bang 2023 - Infomercial and General Rules

What is a Big Bang?

A Big Bang is an event in fandom where authors write a fic and are paired with artists who create art to go with it. These pieces are posted at the same time/together, reprising the older zine tradition of writers and artists collaborating for fandom.

How can you participate? There are three ways you can join the LU Big Bang: as an author, an artist, or a beta.

Authors will write a fic, artists will make fan art for that fic, and betas will provide the invaluable service of editing said fic if requested.

F.A.Q. for Big Bangs and specific information for this event under the cut.

What counts as art? If you are an artist participating in this event, there are a lot of ways that "count." You can do traditional, digital, moodboards, banners, a piece of embroidery... as long as it is a visual piece of art that goes with the fic you are paired with, it counts!

Minimum Word Count: The absolute minimum word count for fic is going to be 5k. It can be a one-shot, or a multi-chapter fic. It can be 7k or 200k, whatever your heart desires. As long as it is at least five thousand words, and done by the deadline, it counts.

Can I write in a language other than English?

Of course you can! As long as you are able to communicate with your artist in whatever language to get the collaboration done, I fully endorse fanworks in the native languages of the authors.

LU-centric: This event is for the Linked Universe fandom. That means that all art and fic must fall into the greater umbrella of the LU.

That being said, if you want to write something that is entirely about one member of the chain, or only features three of them, that is completely fine. AUs are allowed. Crossovers are also permitted, as long as the focus is our beloved Links.

Go crazy. Just stay in the fandom.

Ratings: Go nuts. Fluff, angst, any and all archive warnings and ratings are permitted. Write G, write E, write whatever speaks to you. That being said, y'all better be tagging responsibly. Artists will be asked when filling out their signup sheets if they are comfortable creating art for certain ratings/warnings.

Original Works Only: All entries for this event must be original to this event. That means that authors can't add a few chapters to their current WIP and call it a day. And artist cannot decide that an existing project is close enough and make edits. The point of this is to create an explosion (or a BIG BANG if you will) of brand new fanworks.

Authors: this is the perfect excuse to dust of those plotbunnies and flesh them out.

Collaboration: This is a collaborative event. We are celebrating our love for the Legend of Zelda franchise, the Linked Universe, and the Chain together. That means that you have to keep in contact with your partner, and complete the two check-ins with me (the event organizer) so that everyone has a good time working together to make something beautiful.

Beta Reading: As someone who chronically posts without a beta, I am not going to enforce having one. That being said, this event will have a beta sign-up, and I strongly encourage taking advantage of our kind volunteers. Or use your own regular beta. Or live that "no beta, we die like men" life. You do you, I guess.

For those of you interested in volunteering to beta read, please, feel free to do so. There will be a sign-up for you wonderful, beautiful, selfless people.

Hosting: All fics will be hosted on Archive of Our Own. You are more than welcome to post them elsewhere as you so desire in addition, but the "homepage" for the event will be an Ao3 collection. If you are an author who wants to participate but does not yet have an Ao3 account, I recommend signing up for one now. Last time I checked, the wait list was about a week. Not bad. Paired art-pieces can be hosted anywhere that the artist chooses, as long as it is linked/attached to the corresponding fic.

Posting: Since a majority of the fandom is currently going though whumptober/flufftober/linktober, and I know how Nano can be, I am looking at a late early december post date.

That being said, when we do get to posting, there will be a couple of hard-fast rules. Fic will be posted with the art and a link to the art hosting page/artist. Art will be posted with a link to the fic. The point of this is that they go together, after all.

Support: Please reach out to me. Send me a message/ask for the tiniest thing. If you think that someone else already asked it, it's fine, I will answer it with a link to the other answered ask. This is not the first Big Bang or Reverse Bang that I have run, so no matter what the question is, I am sure I have heard it before. Ask it. It's fine.

Also, reach out to your fellow artists and authors. The point of events like this is to make friends, so go on! Talk to people!

Extensions/Deadlines: The point of this event is to create an explosion of content on one set date. That being said, I know that life happens. Words can be hard. The muse can abandon you, and leave you bereft of the ability to finish the work.

This is where that communication thing comes in. If you make sure that your partner and the mod (that's me, hi) knows that you are just running behind, then all is forgiven. That being said, do try to meet the deadline. And those who have not completed their work for this event will not be allowed to participate in the next event I run (if/when) that occurs until said work is completed. It wouldn't be fair to your partner otherwise.

Where do I sign up?

The official timeline and sign-up sheet will be out by this Sunday, October 8th. I will be posting it on my Tumblr. And will tag all successive posts for this event with #LUBB2023 (Linked Universe Big Bang 2023).

Any other questions?

Send me an ask, reply/comment on this post. Go crazy. And please reblog this post if this sounds fun. The more people that see this, the more people potentially signing up for the event.

[pilot-boi]

Plotbunny AU : Pt 3 Alright, you want more? Here's MOAR Jaune and Alyx fill in Ozpin about everything they know about Salem, Cinder, their plans, and the Ever After and MAGIC.

Oh, and Qrow and Goodwitch are there too. Their reaction to Ozpin being caught flatfooted is almost as amusing as their reactions to realizing "Compulsive Liar with Trust Issues" didn't exclude them.

At some point, Jaune gets a full suit of plate-mail, and has his Aura unlocked and awakens his Semblance after an incident. He now spends every other night when he's not conditioning himself pumping more healing into Amber.

Alyx has to sit through a lot of how-to videos on stuff like the modern political structure of the kingdoms. The Great War. The Atlas Separation. Anything else she misses can be brushed off as being from the sticks like Jaune.

Jaune calls his parents at some point and rushes through "I make it into Beacon on a recommendation, sorry I took the sword and was an angsty teenager, also I adopted another sister and might have more soon, bye!"

Jaune does his best to introduce Alyx to modern conveniences and entertainment. He takes her by the hand and guides her through Vale, wearing his new armor to adjust to the weight.

He never meant for anything to happen. They had a very good plan to actually trap Cinder with a fake Amber in the Vault.

But then he's taking Alyx to see a movie at night and when he points out the scenery, there's a shop, a restaurant, Ruby fighting criminals-record scratch.

What.

Is that that Torckwick guy?!?!

Torchwick means Neo, the crazy midget!

Jaune tells Alyx to hide, and coazes Juniper out from his pocket, scanning for tri colored illusionists when a bulkhead appears and he sees h e r.....

and Jaune's vision whites out and he can't hear Alyx anymore.

But he knows the feel of Juniper rushing forward under him, adn she grows to her proper size and keeps growing.

And Jaune pushes his Aura into Juniper, his Semblance glowing, and Juniper kicks the Bullhead.

Right into the Dust Shop.

It gets very loud.

Glynda Goodwitch arrives to Jaune healing everyone's ears.

Ruby takes a moment to stammer: "Did you just kill that woman?"

Alyx, like the semi reformed hellion she is, replies with "Gods, I hope so"

(This was not the post I had planned. I had a whole fluffy Beason outline filled with Jaune being everyone's brother figure, Alyx questioning Pyrrha's intentions, and team pet shenanigans. I blame you for Cinder being kicked into a Dust Store for asking for more this late. Good Job. )

First of all, DONT call Neo a midget, what the hell dude

Second of all, all problems can be solved by big bunny. Get fucked Roman and Cinder. On one hand I hope they’re not dead because that would be a very anticlimactic way for them to go out, but on the other hand it IS very funny

And if Cinder is dead, then who did her sliver of the Maiden powers go to? Did they go back to Amber, possibly healing her? Or did they go to someone else?

Also, you could very well have Cinder survive. In canon she’s survived worse than this. Just give her some badass burn scars and throw her back into the action, more manic than ever, and now with a vendetta against our baby boy

[meadowsofmay]

i don't think i have the energy to write anything more than a plotbunny, but about legolas and his dad and hair braiding...

i can imagine thranduil braiding his son's hair before he heads off to rivendell for the council of elrond. while i think this is made supremely more awkward or emotionally difficult if we keep with the movies-verse idea of legolas having essentially not seen his dad since the battle of five armies (the whole "go find a man named strider" thing thranduil says to him), i think it's a powerful image regardless of if legolas stayed in mirkwood.

im imagining them sitting in silence for most of it. thranduil is incredibly meticulous and starts weaving small beads of amber into his sons hair, and slowly, it startles legolas. he looks up at himself in the mirror. the way thranduil's weaving them is how royalty wears their hair into battle. dont you think lord elrond will think something bad about silvans, about them being barbarous, if i wear this style to a council? legolas asks, trying to lighten the mood. his father doesn't respond, but he does meet legolas' eye in the mirror long enough to transmit the silent message: you and i both know that is not why i am doing this. they both recognize it's an action of love more than an action of fear... or perhaps exactly as much.

later, when the fellowship first bathes after they set out from rivendell, legolas spends an hour figuring out how all of the braids and beads go back in. when he comes back to mirkwood (now greenwood) after the war, he's wearing the same style he set out with, inlaid with beads from gondor.

thranduil wanting to have his son back, or at least try, and using braiding his hair to spent time with legolas before the council and show that he is still here for him...

INLAID WITH BEADS FROM GONDOR — LE GHASP FDTVOROBI OH PLEASE aragorn gifting legolas new set of beads and accessories (because legolas landed him his own for the battle of the black gate, yes, he did, i won't accept anything else) and legolas spending a good couple of hours, figuring out how to braid everything right and proper and exactly the way his father did is so heart-wrenching please hE IS HIS PAPA'S BOY he wants to make things right between them no matter the quarrels and misunderstandings that happened. and he comes back to greenwood and thranduil tries to be serious at first but sees his sons hair — the last and only moment between them after so much time that they spent apart — and he tears up (legolas for a second stopped breathing, timid smile on his lips as he tries to read his father's reaction). thranduil almost cries and you can't tell me he doesn't because legolas let him braid his hair before the council of elrond — he accepted thranduil's step forward then and now, he did his own.

elves are not touchy (as i learned) but thranduil hugs his son so tight legolas laughs, a distant echo of the past when father and son used to spend fun time together and legolas never stopped giggling...

they are going to be alright.

[inexplicifics]

re anon mentioning Sasha getting the Witcher lover 101 talk, i have a pile of OCs living in the AWAU, one of which is a manticore witcher by the name Badri. Badri has a human lover, Salim.

i now possess a new baby plotbunny about Salim having that talk with Sasha (depending on how that goes in the fic, i guess). possibly also introducing Sasha to the concept of trans people as Salim is a trans man

Awww, that sounds adorable!

Sasha would be confused but polite, I think. And he's adjusted reasonably well to Leocadie. He might ask Aiden some questions later to figure out how to best be polite.

[olderthannetfic]

I have a question I hope you or one of your readers may be able to answer. Has it become common in fandom spaces to ask authors to "adopt" ideas? Not a WIP, just a concept. Is this a Wattpad thing? I've been messaged by readers (presumably) that I've never spoken to before, asking if I'd want to write a fic idea for them because they don't think they are skilled enough to do it (maybe they would be if they were practicing instead of trying to pawn off their plotbunnies!). I've never taken prompts or expressed any desire for story suggestions. I would normally chalk it up to the sender being new-ish to fandom and not very familiar with etiquette, but it's happened twice and now I don't know if it's a weird thing to ask or I'm just out of date.

--

I see that sort of talk on r/Fanfiction and a bunch of places. I think it tends to organically develop in the same way that you see pro writers from radically different contexts laughing about "That bore at a party who tells you: 'I've got a great idea! You do the writing and we'll split the profits!'"

N00bs think ideas are so valuable they're worth "adopting" as though there aren't ten trillion other ideas hovering about that a writer will never have time to execute.

[wuxiaphoenix]

Worldbuilding: Unknown Unknowns, or Wait There’s Another Ginseng

Even when you know a subject fairly well, it can be worth your while to check a site like Science Daily or even Wikipedia to see if there’s new and useful info on it. Or, as in this case, old info that simply never came up on sources when you checked before.

There are actually two species of ginseng native to North America.

You’ve probably heard of American ginseng, Panax quinquifolius. Yet there’s an entirely different species, dwarf ginseng, Panax trifolius. Dwarf ginseng isn’t considered to be nearly as medicinal as its well-known sibling, but its small tubers are perfectly edible, and it does have some of the same adaptogenic compounds. Historically the locals used it medicinally for chest colds and the like. It might be worth further investigation even as just a woodland crop, given it is a good thing to eat.

The background to this is that I have shreds of an Idea (fantasy ninjas), and I’m trying to find out what would be a good start and end scene for it. Hopefully that would perk up my brain (something new to write!) and get the plotbunnies enthusiastic enough to also finish the Colors draft faster than a dead crawl. I have no solid images for the scenes, but I figure if I can build a little more of how the story is supposed to work, it might be easier to visualize what those scenes might be.

Long story short, one character has to go undercover. But as I was going over the situation in my head, my main ninja pointed out that the original cover story an arrogant noble came up with wouldn’t work. Go undercover in the guise of a nekomata, oni, tanuki, kitsune? Any of these who were born youkai would have to have friends and clan that would be known; and, for example, a normal fox gaining enough years and power to become a full-fledged kitsune would be noticed by other youkai before it ever took a humanoid form. People would remember. People would check. It’d be all too easy for someone with a suspicious frame of mind to blow the whole cover wide open.

But a plant gathering enough ki to cultivate a youkai form? Those happen most often when lucky plants (or unlucky, see vampire trees) touched by magic get overlooked.

A tiny medicinal plant in a forest is a very good candidate for “went overlooked”.

Honestly, I stumbled on this in part because of a thought-chain of, “trees are actually not a separate category but a specific plant lifeway in several groups, huh I wonder what a ginseng tree would look like”, and looking up the scientific classification of ginseng species. Turns out they’re in the ivy family, which tends not to be trees - or at least, not very good ones. There’s a relative that gets to small tree size and is renowned in Japanese proverbs for being useless at that stage.

And that’s where I found out there are possibly ten different species of ginseng, when before I’d only known about the Korean, American, and near-extirpated Chinese ginsengs.

None of my other books on ginseng mention dwarf ginseng. Digging through books I have on the shelf, there is a brief (about four lines) mention of it in Peterson’s Field Guide to Edible Wild Plants, but I’d never have noticed that without the Wikipedia info.

...Now I want to read an SF story where someone colonizing an alien planet brought along all the lesser-known edible plants and woodland herbs so they could homestead in a forest even if conventional crops failed. Just in case. Anyone want to write this?

Poke around, just for fun. You never know what you don’t know!

[aishicc]

Going through the old WIPs and Plotbunnies folders and found my old QuakeRider stuff and am now wondering if it's worth maybe adding to that Fandom once more? A few loyals stuck with me and might like some new shit to read but not sure if my Muses still want to play nice. Once burned twice shy and all that.

May have to see about updating the QuakeRider Fantasy AU I started and seeing if that gets any love. As it is 'Let's Ride' is still doing fine with the loyals so am happy there. Only time will tell but still planning on finishing what I haven't already lost the Muses for. Off to see if I can get 'City Life' updated soon.

[dira333]

can i request for the plotbunny game a hoshiumi x reader with whatever fluffy prompt you like the most? 🩷

"I demand that you wear my hoodies!" Kourai's pushing out his chest as he speaks, standing as tall as he possibly can.

You blink, look down at the hoodie in your hands.

"Right now? I'm already sweaty though." You usually iron in your skimpiest tanktop and he's never seemed to have a problem with that before now.

Kourai deflates a little. "Not now, but like... in general!"

"Oh..." You blink again. "But I thought I stretch out your stuff."

He huffs, cheeks getting pink. "I... I don't care about that anymore."

"Mhm..." You pause. "Wait, is this another competition with that guy from MSBY? What's his name again?"

"That has nothing to do with Hinata!" The tone of his voice begs you to differ.

"So?" You fold his hoodie and put it to the side. "What's it about then?"

"Me recognizing I was a terrible boyfriend who didn't let you wear his stuff and now I'm crawling in the dust before you, begging you to forgive me?"

You squint. "Not buying it."

"Fine!" Kourai throws his hands in the air. "Hinata's girlfriend is taller than him. His profile picture is her wearing his jersey and it looks good."

"Oh, so you want me to wear your jerseys?"

"No, I want you to wear my hoodies. Because you look amazing in Hoodies and I wanna see you in mine."

"But I'd stretch them out."

"Then I'd get new ones," he sounds a little impatient now. "Please?"

"And when shall I get started with that, oh great Hoshiumi?"

He pouts. "You don't have to say it like that."

You smirk, pressing the iron into the fabric of one of your skirts.

"How about that... tonight, we do self-care. I get to pamper your face and put make-up on and in turn, I wear one of your hoodies?"

He considers it for a second. "But don't use the pink eyeliner, you know that one stays one for days."

"Deal."

-

"This is really restricting my movement," you complain. The Hoodie Kourai picked is one of his tighter ones and it feels like it's cutting off circulation in your arms.

"But it looks really good. Like... like a bodycon dress but just for your upper body?"

"Does it really?" You ask, lifting your arm to get to his lashes. The sound of a seam ripping has you halt in your movement, but it's too late. Kourai's eyes snap open and the look he gives you could murder someone.

"Did you just destroy my favorite hoodie?"

"This isn't your favorite. Your favorite is the one in Kamemodai Colors!"

"Second favorite!" He claims, moving to examine the damage. "Well, it seems you have to take it off now."

The lack of anger in his voice has you narrow your eyes at him. "You planned that, didn't you?"

"I don't know what you mean." He smiles, eyes twinkling.

"Whatever. Help me get out of this then."

"Gladly."

[legend-as-old-as-time]

Plotbunny: Onua should be getting visions, as a treat, suddenly (and temporarily). Why him?

a) I once wondered as a child why he didn’t have them. He seemed as wise and profound as Gali.

b) I like the idea that it’d shake him that he has no idea why he’s getting them now or where they come from. It could make for interesting character development. Especially with how grounded he’s always seemed.

c) Playing with the headcanon that among matoran, it’s believed only specific elements receive visions. Which heightens his confusions and inner turmoil, when others around him react to the news.

d) Writing character interactions, like Gali and Onua, and Onua and Vakama. Especially the latter could relate a lot to Onua and speak with him about their shared troubles.

[istadris]

Oh no, here comes another plotbunny (that anyone wanting to use or adapt is free to do so):

The Bros and Peach are fighting Bowser and Jr, it's an usual day in the Mushroom World.

Except this time some Magic Artifact is involved, and the chaos of the battle causes a Weird Reaction, which opens a dimensional portal sucking everyone in, drops the entire group in Brooklyn, New York City.

And on top of that causes everyone to be shape shifted : because of the power-ups they were using, Mario is turned into a raccoon, Luigi into a fox, and Peach into a cat (not animal suit : actual animals, although they still retain their sentience and speech on top of animal instincts).

And Bowser and Jr into humans.

After the first shock has passed, a commotion ensues, which Bowser insists wasn't his fault (it totally was : in his defence, he's used to get his way by yelling rudely into anyone standing in his way and torching them if they don't comply, and he didn't realise it wouldn't work as well coming from a half-naked, burly human with no fire powers and a bunch of wild animals surrounding him), and the group is separated : Luigi and Jr disappear who knows where (probably Manhattan) while Peach and Mario manage to stay with Bowser.

Bowser is torn between hilarity at his enemy's pitiful state, absolute anguish at his son's disappearance, maniacal glee at finally having Peach within his grasp, and utter confusion at the human world.

His first reflex is to grab Peach, kick Mario and walk away, but Peach firmly puts her foot (paw) down : not only is she not going to stand for such behavior, but neither she or Bowser know how to navigate the human world, so whether the Koopa-turned-human likes it or not, they need Mario.

They also discover during this interaction that yes, Peach and Mario still retain their speech...but only Bowser can understand them. It's a very awkward moment when they realise it (both for the trio and the random passerbyes watching the scene).

Meanwhile Luigi has managed to stick with Junior. Or rather, Junior has grabbed him and claimed to have captured him as a future hostage for when they meet again with his Pa and Mama Peach and that stupid Mario ! And as the Koopa Prince, he demands that his prisonner finds him food and get him home! Not that he's scared! Luigi just nods and immediately decides he will maim anyone touching that kid.

I can't decide if this would take place in the movie verse, involving the Bros' family, or if I stick to my personal headcanon of gameverse!Bros having being on their own for years before the Mushroom Kingdom.

But now everyone is Lost in New York, Bowser quickly gets labelled around the block as a crazy punk dude with a feral raccoon pet, Peach gets "rescued" at least twice by well meaning old ladies who think the street isn't for such a pretty, well bred kitty, Mario discovers a guilty pleasure for dumpster diving, Junior is a brat who gets in every fight imaginable and Luigi is the only one actually working on trying to get home.

[kisarastrife]

OMG I love your story so much and I just found your tumblr! I only began to ship Seto and Kisara like maybe three or four years ago after my highschool club had an anime night and I remembered how much I loved them as a kid. I just wanted to ask you what it feels like when you meet newer fans?

Hello!

First of all, hi there and thank you for such a lovely message, and secondly apologies for the delay in updating said story lately!

Awwww, this was such a lovely message to open my inbox to, and it actaully really makes me happy to think the YuGiOh! fandom I adore is still getting new fans, let alone that my favourite pairing has a new fan too! I am here for that completely!

Haha, I love your question. I really, really, really adore that there's relatively new fans coming into the fandom because I'm older now and I can remember being a 12/13yr old kid in Ireland, getting up at 6am to watch YuGiOh! because our TV channels only showed anime at that time back then.

So, to have new folks is lovely, but when I see people arguing over ships, I also do feel a tiny bit like that scene from the Narnia movies, with the quote:

But that's because I'm old and grumpy and been in this fandom for about 20yrs now.

But really, it's all love. I never expected to still be so obsessed with this fandom 14 years after I began writing a plotbunny in my head ... and yet here I am. It keeps drawing me back time and time again, and I adore it more than ever!!

I hope you do too! xxxxx