#if someone writes this au i will cry

[mobius-m-mobius]

#just a wizard gentleman and his butler 🪄🎩

[drawnfamiliarfaces]

i... wrote a smol fic (っ´▽`*)っ

also!!!!! If you haven't seen it - shoutout to first ever published fic in Ninja Showdown/My Immortal Soul tags - Lustrous Red by @missadmyre !!!

[haze-of-hyperfixations]

i am constantly making funny silly jokes to myself that consistently end up becoming full-fledged genuine fic ideas.

anyways the world is not ready for my stupid "Epic characters as modern teenagers" AU featuring aro Perimedes + queerplatonic Perenor fic idea. it is SILLY and NONSENSICAL. (but it's kind of really funny and sweet and also taking over my thoughts and i kind of like the concept of it-)

[puppetmaster13u]

Even More Meat Marionette Au

But a lil drabble <3 Because my ADHD snatched this au and isn't letting go.

  There were tunnels under Gotham. 

   Everyone knew about them, even if they were rarely spoken of. There were tales about them, some whispered in hushed voices from mother to child, others creeping across withered pages stained with age. Stories of creatures, of living shadows, of men going mad, wailing about the things beneath. 

   No one went into the tunnels. 

  Not purposely at least. 

   For one Bruce Wayne, he had fallen the first time- slipped into a well after a night of rain and into those dark caves with stone as black as night and just as stained with blood as the rest of the city. 

   No one had gone down for a long time, and no one should have gone down for longer still, but the rain had made the crumbling stones slick, the child reaching just a hint too far, and so down he went, nails scrabbling against unyielding rock and blood dripping from soft skin. 

   The child did not scream, even if his terror was sweet in the air as his blood mixed with the water soaking his clothes. He did not stay, just like the others before him, but the caves remembered the sweetness of the fear he brought. 

   No one went into the tunnels, not anymore. 

   Yet the child did. 

   Oh he wasn’t a child anymore, not to humans, but to the ancient caves, he was still but an infant. He’d eventually leave, and they’d still be there. They had been there long before, and they’d be long after even when the city turned to dust in the sands of time. 

   And yet… 

  And yet. 

   Yet he kept returning, night after night and day after day, running a hand along the stone that should have chilled him to the bone. His fear was still ever so sweet in the air, even if it was lessening over the time. It was… curious. 

   There was still the scent of fear, of terror coming from the human, but it also wasn’t. It was coming from him, but it wasn’t his own fear. 

   The emotion clung to him, but it wasn’t his. It was others’ fear, others’ fear he was bringing down to the cavernous tunnels. Others’ fear he was feeding It, unknowing or not. A gift, a meal, something for It and It alone. 

   It was only polite to return the favor, to gift the little human something to fight and terrify. As much as the spilled blood pleased It, the tunnels understood that it would be far better for Its little human to stay healthy, to be able to bring blood not his own. 

   The city was always full of corpses and the tunnels stretched far longer than humans realized after all, It could reach any who fell. Purposeful deaths, accidental, it made no difference to the bloodstained stone beneath. 

   It would call to Its little human soon enough, Its gift was nearly complete after all. Something to fly without the creaking metal or suits of wires. Something new, something It hadn’t formed before. 

   After all, what use would It have for a living body? What use did flesh and stone need to move? It had been here for a long time, and It would be here longer still, but perhaps, perhaps just this once another would last past the crumbling of life and bones turning to dust. 

   A gift, from the tunnels to him. 

   For one Bruce Wayne, who had returned to them with sacrifices of flesh and blood and fear each night. For one child who had fallen and returned to the depths of the tunnels, for one child that was Its.

This is a combo of my Au & @phoenixcatch7's and you need to check out their Possessed Doll Au because it's amazing <3<3

[blushinggoku]

Been trying to read some goku x reader fanfics (because I love him and cringe culture is dead) but there's soo few out there it's insane. I'm disappointed in this fandom for not loving goku more

[hcdragonwrites]

Just one night (a @journey-to-the-au Drabble)

Ok this is the part two! This is the comfort/ fluff of what happens after Six Eared Macaques previous rampage from Nightmares. I am glad I split these into two so people can pick and choose.

Mild trigger warning: Brief mentions of attempted SA (again nothing goes into detail at all but still sometimes this can still be a trigger.)

It’s over.

The nightmare is over.

Then why does it feel like i'm breathing but I can’t catch my breath?

Willow felt her heart beating too fast, her mind repeating the nightmare.

The cave still smelled of blood.

The imposter was dead. He lay there, finally revealed, a monkey of gray blue fur with a face of shadows. Nothing to be distinguishable of who, or what, his personality had been before it assumed the skin of their leader. Of her friend.

Of Wukong.

Her Wukong had come through the water of Water Curtain Cave in a flash of gold, eyes blazing red. Almost like a Heaven send. A blessing.

In that moment Willow had stepped forward, to the embrace of this nightmare she had dutifully taken as her yoke, a blur or fiery orange had smashed its way through the curtain of water.

“IMPOSTER!” He had called in challenge, his staff coming free of his ear. With a flick of the Kings wrist, the weapon grew in tremendous size.

The imposter had turned, hackles rising, bloody mouth circling back into a snarl. Wukong had roared. The imposter had screamed. Then they were upon each other. It had been a battle, long and difficult. Fur had flown, stone had shaken. At times the combatants had traversed the skies, shooting like two wayward stars from a bow through the Heavens. More blood fell.

In the midst of it, the imposter had cleaned the remnants of its meal from his mouth, making it impossible to tell the twisting and twining fighters apart. Which was which?

Willow had waited as finally, after gods and other immortals had been unable to tell who was who, Mama Courage and Wisdom stepped forward. Willow couldn’t hear the words being spoken between the celestials and Wisdom. She could only hear a ringing in her ears, a drumming of her heart.

She couldn’t catch her breath.

Willow's palms were wet with sweat and white. Whiter than porcelain. Courage took one of those hands, holding it tight. Breaking her numbness, her shock. Willow grasped the hand, holding on. The fear still coiled in her gut, a snake tightening its hold on her. But Courages hand was the anchor she clung to as her body battles within itself.

Wisdom had found him out, had picked out the real Wukong. A mother knew her child. That’s when the imposter had lost. He had felt it, probably, sensing the shift in the wind. In that moment he tried to run. The mirage of his disguise had fallen off in the fright. Wild white eyes, teeth bared of flesh. And now.

He was nothing more than a stain on the floor.

“Don’t you want to kiss me?” The words echo, still alive within Willows head.

Willow was trying to drown those words out.

She’s failing.

The storm inside her body is a rage of water, threatening to drag her down. Those blue eyes flash sharply in her head and Willow feels herself shake.

“Willow?”

She startles. She flinches, shaken from the very real echo of what had almost happened. “Reaffirm our union… Maybe more later.”

Willow looks up, kneeling on the stone floor of the cave. She doesn’t remember when she sat back down. Wukong stands before her. He blocks her view from the rest of the cave, from what the other troop members are beginning to clean up. He blocks her view from the bodies. But Willow still sees the imposter, has to see it. She has to kill the fear in her head that at any moment, any second, those ice eyes can come back and stare into her. To ask things of her that make her soul pull away and her body go cold.

“Willow?”

Wukong stands before her, eyes o so vulnerable. His voice is bleeding uncertainty, his hands fidgeting. He looks to her then looks away, confused on what to do.

Willow also doesn’t know what to do.

How do you tell your friend that someone wore their skin and killed and began to stalk her every step? Willow feels Mama Courage beside her, the hand squeezing. She looks up.

‘It’s him Willow. It’s our Stone Monkey.’ She signs and taps in her unique monkey way. It had taken a long time for Willow to learn this sign language, struggling but wanting to understand. Now, after decades of living together she had mastered this speech. ‘Go. You both need each other.’

‘What of you? He needs his mothers too.’ Willow signs back, not trusting her voice. That storm inside her throat is threatening to release, the track of her tears still wet. Mama Courage notices this and frowns in concern.

‘He needs a friend more. He needs you.’ She signs back. ‘And you need him most of all. To banish that demon, that nightmare. You are still shaking.’

It was true. Willows body still shook as if she had caught a deep bone chill. The blue eyes flash in her memory. Ice cold and drowning her from within Wukongs face. She had been chilled in a sense.

Before she could respond, Mama Courage had stepped away. She disappeared behind Wukong, going to help Wisdom with the mess and to spread the word of what had occurred. To reveal the truth.

Now it is just the two of them.

“It’s ok Willow.” Wukong spoke, gaze still averted. “I asked my Master if I could spend a night to … to fix the problems at home.” Willow watched as those hands wrung against each other. “But if - if what has happened- if my face brings you concern- makes you uncomfortable— I understand.”

Willow saw him step a bit off, unsure of what to do.

The eye of the hurricane was moving over Willow, that numb silence beginning to break.

Another half shuffle. He was moving closer to the carnage behind him, further from her reach. Further from her.

He’s just as afraid as I am that something has broken between us. The realization hits her like a slap.

The great wave within her, the one she had tampered down to keep her calm, to keep her cool as she had faced that monster covered in blood—

It broke through her.

Before Wukong could step further back, to disappear, to help, Willow had his face in her hands.

Willow braced her courage and stared into those eyes, determined to banish the fear that somehow, the monster had escaped. The Monkey King's eyes widened, gold within a sea of red. Willow pressed a kiss to his temple, a test.

If you are my sweet boy, my handsome monkey, she thought vehemently, this will prove it.

If you are that monster … I’ll see it in your eyes.

Willow waited.

Wukongs face was full of surprise. He blinked rapidly, uncomfortable about the intense eye contact. He looked away, looked to the side. Then he looked back up.

“Willow… what … what happened ?” For he could sense something beginning to churn within his friend. A tipping point of sorts and he, the cliff she balanced on.

The monster is dead.

Relief.

Willow breathed out. The air in her lungs shook.

Relief broke the iron in her spine. What little courage she had clung to swept away and she let it. In the dozens of decades she had been with Wukong, had cultivated and grown their trust and friendship, she had found and grown a safe place to be herself. Not Earth Reaching Willow of Polestar Palace, Eldest Daughter. To be her true self. To be one with the emotions she had suppressed. The feelings she had to repress as a princess unless she gave the wrong impression, put on the wrong face, among her fathers courtiers.

I want my friend. The longing was fierce and wild. It scorched her veins and pricked her eyes with fresh tears. A strangled sob passed between her teeth as she tried to stifle it with her fist.

“Willow?”

I need my friend - I need him.

She could be just Willow here, in his arms. She didn’t need to be a shield. She didn’t need to be a princess. She pressed her face into the crook of his neck, holding.

“The last thing I want is for you to go.” She whispered. And that’s when it fell. The tears came fast and hard, her body shaking with it. The hurricane was passing over here, the eye of the storm now past. The wind within her was full of the past years spent with the imitation of her friend. His watching eyes, his burning brushes against her hands. Those days when he had hinted, suggested, and plainly stated he wanted more—

Wukongs hands held her arms, cooed in her ear. “It’s ok Willow. Let it out. Breathe.”

“Don’t go…” she whispered, making a mess of tears on his shoulder.

“I’m not going anywhere. I’m here. I’m right here.”

Nightmares. She felt them all coming across her mind then, each time she lifted her face to catch a breath. The nightmares flashed into her head. But they weren’t nightmares.

“He can’t hurt you Willow. He can’t hurt anyone ever again.” Wukongs voice was fierce in that promise as he turned to press a kiss to her temple. Sealing the promise as he rubbed her arms like a mother to a babe.

They were memories. Of all the times the imposter, the Six Eared Macaque, had pressed her for touches. Had asked for kisses. Had attempted many times to get her away from the eyes of others. Earth Reaching Willow had walked the halls feeling eyes always upon her.

He had cornered her one terrible night and had reached for her. Willow had felt like a rabbit caught in a snare as his hand had caressed her face, had trailed to her lips. He had been interrupted by Rin Rin coming in to ask for bouquet suggestions, wanting to know what blossoms to pair best with what greens in preparation for a feast. Her friend had saved her that night and she didn’t even know.

None of them had known.

Each time the memory popped up, Willow flinched away, trying to curl deeper into the orange fur. Trying to burrow into her friend because he was real. And she needed that reality from the wake that was her mind. It grounded her, allowed her to be scared. Willow breathed him in. The imposter had never smelled quite right, had never felt quite right, hadn’t talked quite right. At least to her.

Wukong, this Wukong- her Wukong, smelled of the world, of growing things and sunlight, of ozone and wind. Of rain upon dry stone. The Six Eared Macaque had been floral and fruity, sweet like a honeyed nectar trap, like a carnivorous flower. And she the unwitting fly.

All the things he had tried to do to lure her in had failed. Willow had survived.

Barely.

My Wukong is here. My friend, my confidant, my partner in this eternity. I do not have to be brave anymore. I don’t have to be strong. Here, I can cry.

Nothing could ever replicate the muscle memory, the familial way that Willow and Wukong both folded into each other's embrace. They had hundreds of years to build this body-deep familiarity with one another. This instinctual trust.

Not even a six eared all knowing demonic monkey could copy that.

Willows sobs were not slowing. They were gaining traction instead. All the fear of years of living with a masked monster in their midst, all the close calls that Willow was remembering now, battered her. Wukong shifted a bit and she felt more than saw Wukong grow in size. Her arms moved apart, having to move from holding his face to grab his middle.

“I’m going to move us Willow. Is that alright ?” His voice is soft, questioning.

My sweet friend, so tender in his asking.

She can’t trust her own voice but nods. Then they were up, an arm beneath her leg and another holding her back. As the sounds of the waterfall retreated, Willow felt the tightness in her chest start to loosen. Breaths she couldn’t take before, that seemed to catch in her throat, came easier.

Each step took them away from the roar of the water. With each crash of tears, Willow curled into her friend. Mama Courage had been right. She had needed him.

Wukong finally stopped moving, settling the both of them down onto the stone floor. They were in an alcove, a bit of a stone hollow off of the main passageway. Willow looked up at Wukong then as he crossed his legs. He nestled her into his lap. His tail wrapped her own lags, a warm blanket against the cold.

“Comfortable?”

“Mhm..” Willow sniffed. Her nose would be stuffed later but she didn’t care. Couldn’t care. She wiped her eyes and tried to see through them.

Wukong looked terribly sad, his face on the brink of breaking itself.

“Oh darling…” she hiccuped. Willow touched his forehead. The golden circlet was cold across her fingers. “It’s not your fault.”

She could see it hurting, eating away at her friend. A worm within an apple core, destroying all the good fruit about it.

They only had one night. One night.

Willow wished for more than just a night.

“Wu-Wukong.” Her voice came out thick. Her monkey leaned into her touch, those golden eyes warm and full of love.

“You don’t need to relive those things.” He said. “Not tonight. Not ever again if you wish. You don’t even have to trust me again. My face … it has been used for terrible things…monstrous things. I see it in all of your eyes.”

Unspilled tears pooled in his face. “I can see it in your eyes. In my mothers. In my friends. In Ba and Ma and Liu and Rin Rins eyes.”

“You all have ghosts in your eyes and I can’t banish them. Because I caused them. ”

Those sad words were spoken with such sorrow, with such rejection that Willows was moving before she could think. Willow pulled his face down to hers.

“This isn’t your fault Wukong.” Willow said.

“It is completely my fault…”

“Oh my sweet Monkey…” She said into his fur. I wish you didn’t have to go- I wish you could stay here, stay with us with me, to help chase those memories into the dark. “How I missed you.”

Wukong swiped some of her tears off her cheek, rumbling not words but noises.

“But you have a pilgrimage to be a part of. You are needed there.” Willow says.

“I’m needed here.” The guilt is eating him, swallowing him up bit by bit. The words he couldn’t say were evident in his eyes. If I had been here none of this would have happened, they said.

“You will always be needed here.”

“Maybe not as welcome.” Wukong pulled back, looking away. “ A stranger took my face and committed atrocities. That face, my face, hurt you. My mothers. My friends. My home.” His voice is shaking. From anger, from sorrow, she did not know. Wukong was powerful. He had challenged Heaven, had defeated dragons, outwitted gods. He had shapeshifted into a thousand different things, had gained a weapon that matched his own abilities. He was a warrior, a King who cared for his people.

Wukong hadn’t been able to protect them. It ate at him. Swallowed him in an endless loop of pain.

“I wasn’t here to protect you.” He whispered. Wukong had burst through the cave, seeking his doppleganger with anger. When he had seen the bloody remains of Cloud, the smiling face of his imitation covered in blood and approaching his mothers and Willow—

He had lost it.

“Wukong look at me.”

He didn’t move his head, despondent. Willow dug her fingers in deeper to the fur, twisting the large monkey about just enough to see him clearly.

She carded those fingers through Wukongs fur, half comfort for her and half comfort for him. Those fingers plucked and pulled, tugged and tended in the ways the monkey king had shown her, all those years ago when she first came to Flower Fruit Mountain.

“It’s better than brushing,” He had said. “It’s a way we say we love one another and strengthen that love. A language spoken through our hands.”

Willow spoke that silent language now. She moved the fingers through and around his face, over his ears. Willow silently kissed the tears from his cheeks as she cried her own. His pain was hers. And hers was his.

In that silent and dark place the two took shelter against the world. Willow from her own memories. Wukong from his own perceived failings.

The story of what happened fell slowly from Willows lips. She held nothing back. Wukong would either stiffen or growl, huff or pull her closer at each new unearthed memory. Willow lived them again here and now, feeling the night slip between her fingers like grains of sand. She had only one night.

One night to banish that blue-eyed monster from its association with Wukong. I won’t let that demon take him from me.

It was a fierceness that surprised Willow. It gave back some of her strength, allowing her to speak nakedly about the truth of what had happened since Wukong began his pilgrimage.

I won’t let him be poisoned to me. I won’t let my experience of a few years erase more than a lifetime of memories.

Willow would not leave that between them. She loved Wukong too much to lose him to some faceless cannibal that had been a drop in the ocean of time they had spent together.

It would take more than a night Willow knew, to repair what things had been shaken. But she would get the worst of it done. She would find a way to see him again before his journey was done. She needed him. And he needed her.

If I have to blackmail all of Heaven I will. I’ll air my fathers own dirty laundry to steal a few moments with Wukong on the road. Then once he’s home I won’t let him go till he knows he’s wanted and loved by all of us. He’s family.

Willow cried and in turn counseled her friend. Wukong simply sat at times to listen, at others times he spoke of promises and things he would do, ways he would make it up to her. Willow would shake her head.

“Just be you. Just always and forever be my lovely Monkey.”

“I promise.”

And together, in the very heart of the mountain, the two wept. Once the sun rose, Wukong brought Willow back to his mothers. He said his goodbyes. The pain and indecision on his face was at war with itself. Willow, when her turn came to say goodbye, took Wukongs hand. She wrapped her pinky around his.

“When I see you again I’ll tell you of all the things we’ve done.” Willow whispered, pressing her forehead to his. “I will tell you of the seasons change and I will tell you of the coconut toddy and sweet plumb wine we drink for you on your birthday. Of Ba and Ma’s latest stunts, of how Liu and Rin Rin act cuter than ever as they continue to court. I will tell you of all the babies born and all of the younglings who try to prove themselves to their amors.”

Willow felt Wukong shake a bit. She tightened her hold on his other hand, squeezing. “I will tell you of the new trees we plant, of the new games we invent, of the new relationships we cultivate.”

“The most important thing I will tell you though is how much we love and miss you, Wukong. How we are all eagerly awaiting you back at home. How, even now, I can’t wait for your return.”

“You … mean that?” He stared, golden sunset eyes misting over with new tears.

“Oh love. You don’t have to ask. I always miss you.” She smiled. “You are my handsome monkey. My lovely monkey. My best friend. I want you to be happy. And if ever those fellows you travel with make you guess or judge yourself harshly— then I will remind them why I chose you. Of all the beings and people of the world and Heaven, I picked you. And you picked me.”

“I don’t want to go.”

“The sooner you go.” Willow said softly. “The sooner you will come back to Flower Fruit Mountain. And the sooner I can enjoy those peaceful days with my husband.”

Wukong gave one last desperate look back, and it took all of his family’s willpower not to call him, to beg him to stay. Instead, Willow waved smiling at him. Mama Courage and Mama Wisdom both held each other, smiling at their boy.

Marshal Liu stepped closer to the smaller group, along with Ma and Ba and Beng. A silent gesture of we will take care of them, in that action.

Wukong smiled, half heartedly, and leapt through the water. Gone as quickly as he had arrived.

Willow turned then, hands clasped within their robed sleeves. She had a task to do now.

“Marshal Liu?”

“You have an idea, don’t you Mrs Willow?”

“Are my thoughts that evident?” Willow smiled as Marshal Liu nodded. He kept pace with her. walking as Willow turned deeper into the cave.

“I need a few scrolls of parchment.” The idea had already taken shape in her mind. Wukong may be stuck within his duties to his pilgrims. But she was not. She would have to be wise, be careful. She didn’t want to turn this into a heavenly spectacle. She did have a few contacts, however, that could be trusted with the whole truth of her urgency. “I need to write a few letters to Heaven.”

“Heaven?”

“Yes. I know Liu. I don't write home often.” As the sounds of the waterfall faded again, Willow felt her heart thrum with determination. “One night is hardly enough time to heal what has been wrecked here. And I intend on calling on a few favors.” She would send her letters, seeking out sympathetic ears discreetly. She would help Sun Wukong heal just as much as he had helped her. They would do so together. Even if the distance may be great I will find a way.

[carly404error]

An au is rotating in my head where q!missa finally confesses his feelings to q!phil and he agrees to marry but in the wedding the code appears and everyone dies including some eggs (make it more angsty so only chayanne and tallulah die) bc casually q!Etoiles is not there to protect them bc of whatever reason (breaking the fourth wall he couldn’t log in), and phil blames himself for not being able to protect his children, for opening his feelings too much and letting the excitement speak for him.

This idea is based from a post I read about why phil didn’t admit his feelings for missa or something i don’t remember very well i don’t even remember who it was from.

I like the angst potential that has, but idk if i’ll make any content out of that, maybe some art?

[yolowritter]

A Case of Ladybug Luck: Masterpost

Hello there everyone, and welcome to the waiting room of Hell! I cannot believe it's been an entire year since I started this AU and I never made this. But anyway, below you'll find a list of every chapter of A Case of Ladybug Luck, along with the fic's summary! Feel free to ask me about it, this AU is genuinely one of my favorites! It's really angsty, lots of good stuff here!

I will be updating this frequently with content from across this AU! Currently I have the main fic and the what-if fic, but more ideas are on the drawing board! You can find everything below the cut! I will be leaving the summary for ACOLL here, anyone interested is more than welcome to shoot me an ask! Please mind the tags and warnings for each chapter, and enjoy reading! Summary: Marinette doesn't think she can keep living like this. She never told Alya her secret, and her life is in shambles. Adrien is the only one who has noticed and tried to help, but he isn't enough. Lila has them both trapped in a web of lies they can't escape from, and their friends are all taking her side, unwilling to listen to either of them. She's losing hope. At least...at least Chat Noir noticed. She still had her partner. But when an oppurtunity presents itself to Marinette, the perfect chance to get away from this hellish existence and start brand new, she takes it, leaving Paris to deal with the consequences of her actions...

A Case of Ladybug Luck:

Arc 1: End of the Line

Chapter 1: End of the Line

Chapter 2: Last Night in Paris

Chapter 3: The Butterfly Effect

Chapter 4: Perfection's Shattering

Chapter 5: The Illusion of Living

Chapter 6: Cat's Cradle

Chapter 7: Spotted Trouble

Chapter 8: Let the Masks Fall

Chapter 9: Mastermind's Confession

Chapter 10: Aftermath

Arc 2: Liar Liar...Fauxfire

Chapter 11: Investigative Journalism

Chapter 12: Kind Stranger

Chapter 13: Fault and Forgiveness

Chapter 14: Thawed out Hearts

Chapter 15: Shopping Therapy

Chapter 16: Felix

Chapter 17: Remembrance of Gold Part 1

Chapter 18: Remembrance of Gold Part 2

Chapter 19: Marching Far Away

Chapter 20: Dearest Family

Chapter 21: Burn Our Bridges Down

Chapter 22: Ashen Ghosts

Chapter 23: Liar liar...

Chapter 24: Fauxfire

Arc 3: Tying the Noose

Chapter 25: It's Always Sunny

Chapter 26: Reunion

Chapter 27: Family Secrets

Chapter 28: Argos

Chapter 29: N/A

Chapter 30: N/A

Chapter 31: N/A

Chapter 32: N/A

Chapter 33: N/A

Chapter 34: N/A

Chapter 35: N/A

Chapter 36: N/A

Chapter 37: N/A

Chapter 38: N/A

Arc 4: Shadowmoth's Final Attack

Chapter 39: Shadowmoth's Final Attack Part 1

Chapter 40: Shadowmoth's Final Attack Part 2

A Case of Ladybug Luck: What If?

Chapter 1: What if...Chloe chased after Marinette?

Chapter 2: What if...Adrien ran away from home?

TBC

More projects TBA

[jotaroslooseeyebrowhair]

Girl help I’ve been staring at my (nonexistent) next chapter of my fanfic for over a week I don’t know how to write fluff

[awaitinganorphanera]

Who was going to tell me that in order to produce a fic I actually have to write it >:((((( ??? WHAT DO YOU MEAN THE WORDS DONT JUST APPEAR IN THIN AIR IF I STARE AT THE BLINKING CURSOR LONG ENOUGH WITH MY BRAIN FILLED WITH SO MUCH IDEAS RAHHHH !!!!

Anyway, I just wanted to share a small tidbit of a Hanahaki au CobyMeppo fic/draft/idea/prompt/shitty compilation of words that barely make sense that I've been working on since FEBRUARY but never fucking finished and am currently still struggling to even continue as embarrassing as that sounds because idk whether its cohesive or good enough to even share on Ao3 Its just the idea of Helmeppo developing and struggling through Hanahaki disease would be so neat imo due to how most CobyMeppo shippers head cannon Helmeppo's feelings being unrequited at first (or not at all) and how he just adores Koby so fucking much that he becomes so ruined. I cant. Apologies if the structured and the way it's told is messy and incoherent, I've added the lil space in the indent thingy to depict a different part of the fic since im not very good at transitioning. I haven't written anything in so long and I wanted to pump so much bits that I didn't even weave anything properly so, HERE IT IS: (a lot of it IS corny and a bit cheesy so be forewarned akjsjasjsa)

Koby always liked flowers. Surely then, Helmeppo thought, Koby would like him too. Helmeppo, who dwelled within his prickly walls, each barbed with Rose thorns. Helmeppo, with his muddled virtues, swelling and desiccated like stains from Poppy sap. Helmeppo, with a chest riddled with budding blossoms, all watered by his desolate, weeping heart. Could such qualities appeal to the man he grew to love? Perhaps, Helmeppo thought, and perhaps too, he should have known better.  Known when his feelings had begun to develop into something more than simple tolerance, more than respect, more than adoration and even more than intense attachment to the pink-haired boy. At least then, he would have prepared for the worst. Or at least… That's what he assumed when the worst began. It was a blur, how it started. Helmeppo was always self-aware, extremely conscious of his feelings. He knew of jealousy, anger, longing, all traits that contributed and resulted from his desperate and gnawing want to appease his father. His father, of course. His own blood and bones, the same person who probably caused the beginning of all– this. Was it really a surprise? Helmeppo couldn't think of any fucked up thing in his life that hadn't ultimately been caused by Morgan. He grew to learn how to read the room, read the faces, read the tones, he grew to know his father's thoughts without actually knowing anything about his father's feelings. Did he even feel? Feel for his son? No. Of course not. The only thing Morgan could feel for him was apathy.  Sometimes, Helmeppo wished his father hate him instead, wished that he was worth hitting. At least then, he would have experienced treatment that came with passion and effort, treatment that resulted from feeling, treatment that made him feel at the barest, like he meant something.  The lack of care and lack of anything that Morgan bothered to show to his son was barely even the surface of reasons why Helmeppo is even suffering through this. The cause that made Helmeppos brain chemistry rewire and for his damn neuromodulators to rearrange. To see something as small as a single act of genuine care be perceived as a trick, a lie, a dream that he’d so desperately want to fall into and relive despite the possible consequences. He should have recognized how unhealthy and apparently not normal these thoughts were, should have known that his emotions are unstable and too much, should have seen how horrific he grew to be. But even then, Helmeppo thought, would that have done anything to prevent the illness he'd eventually succumb to?

Of all the horrors in Helmeppo’s life, he would have thought that seeds growing inside his lungs would have been the most and hopefully (though doubtedly, considering his luck in life) last traumatic event that would truly, bring him to ruin. But of course, the world, just like how Helmeppo always found himself to be, would never have enough, and just like the breaths he was left to breathe, would leave him dwindling in the years to come. It started as a blur, again, just like any day in the ship he found himself settled in. A gift. He thought, better than what life offered him when he woke up back in shells town. Or at least that's what he’s been telling himself.  Morgan was cruel, sure, but at least he was familiar. He was easier to navigate, easier to chart and read and hide from.  He couldn’t do this here, when things still felt new. He knew of Garp and his capabilities, but he didn’t know the limits of his patience, he had no clue what and how many things would warrant the usage of his fist. He knew of the shady business of the Navy and the World Government, knew of its structure and how it works; the tutors paid by his father made sure of that much, but he never got to live through it.

SOMEONE PLEASE GIVE ME TIPS ON HOW TO TRANSITION PARTS IN WRITING, I SUCK ASS AND AM OPEN TO CRITIQUES AHJSJAS

[morganaseren]

Hi! I'd love to know more About We'll Lose the Grip in Waters Dark, the Poets must be out for Blood and the bodyguard au for the wip meme 👀

((I deeply apologize for how long this took me to get out. I work nights now at my apprenticeship, which means I'm on the weirdest sleep schedule... 😅))

Pairing: Leliana/Niamh Cousland

Rating: Teen

AU: We'll Lose Their Grip in Waters Dark Note: While this AU does deal with one of Niamh's worst worldstates, everything in regards to her relationship with Leliana will always be consensual. Honestly, Leliana goes out of her way to ensure Niamh's consent in whatever they do--not necessarily just in the bedroom.

In this scene, Leliana is lost in her thoughts while they're having sex. There's nothing especially explicit about the act itself, but I'm putting everything under a Read More due to length. There's also some mention of what Niamh's past was like before Leliana came into her life, but it's nothing graphic--a brief comment or two at best.

---

Leliana had remembered early on in their relationship how a simple hug had stunned Niamh into silence, words collapsing mid-sentence with the gesture. At once, Leliana had pulled back, wondering if she'd perhaps been too forward with her affection.

Upon Niamh's features, the surprise had been evident, of course, but Leliana also hadn't missed miss the flicker of quiet wonder and yearning in that gaze--perhaps from the simple knowledge that another person would ever seek to touch her with more than just lust in their hearts.

Past the depths of those bewitching eyes had been a soul so starved of such simple kindness, but beneath the oppressive environment of Kinloch Hold, Niamh had long conditioned herself never to ask for it, less it be misconstrued for more by the men and women who acted as both guard and executioner.

Her thrusts slowed then, unable to help the guilt that slowly crept into her. As Left Hand of the Divine, could she say she was any different from them? With an intelligence network that spanned nearly every corner of Thedas and the ability to command the death of any whom dared to seek harm against Justinia, Leliana was one of the most powerful women in the world. Did Niamh feel the need to chain herself to her out of fear that she'd be next?

"Leliana!"

And all at once, Leliana's worries faded at the simple call of her name. Her lover's usual soft-spoken voice had become high and tight with her arousal due in no small part to Leliana's ministrations.

Still, Niamh knew it was her there. Not some Templar or some faceless dignitary in the sea of contacts that Knight-Commander Gregoire had used her to curry favor with. Not the Left Hand. Not the terrifying spymaster or bard.

Just... Leliana.

And did Niamh not know her best?

"Leliana, please..." she begged again, voice breaking with the entreaty as blunt nails scrabbled helplessly against the back of her tunic. "I'm so close..."

"Shh... I have you," Leliana reassured, pressing her lips against the damp skin of the other woman's temple in apology for her distraction. "I have you," she repeated. "Just as you never need to hide your pleasure from me, you never need to beg from me either. I will always give you what you desire."

With silken heat still clinging to her fingers between the apex of Niamh's thighs, Leliana swiped her thumb in such a way that it immediately had the woman's body going taut beneath hers with a sharp gasp. Leliana couldn't help her own trembling as she felt velvet walls tightening and shuddering beneath her touch. She wound her arm behind Niamh, providing support as the mage's back arched instinctively with the rush of pleasure coursing through her. Leliana continued to work her fingers through wet folds albeit at a more languid pace, gently coaxing Niamh to the end of her release. It was only when her lover released the tightened grip around her shoulders and ceased shivering did Leliana finally pull out.

"Oh, good girl..." she rasped. She smiled when her words earned a lazy hum of delight at the praise. Leliana then peppered slow, tender kisses across Niamh's face, and the gentle laughter it caused was ever sweet music to her ears. "You did so well. Can you sit up for me? Ah. There we go. Good girl. I'm sure my desk can't make for a very comfortable surface after all that."

Leliana gently maneuvered Niamh's body to the side so that she could get her arms beneath her knees and shoulders more easily. With an effortless flex of muscles, she lifted her lover up and away from her desk. Carefully, she moved to seat them both into the chair behind her, settling Niamh atop her lap with the woman's calves draped over the lacquered arm.

"Are you alright?" she questioned, reaching out to adjust Niamh's robes, where it had settled awkwardly around her waist. Sheepishly, Leliana could admit that she'd been a tad too impatient to deal with the intricacy of the belts and knots there. As such, she had simply tugged and pulled at the fabric until her mouth and hands had unimpeded access to the treasure of soft flesh beneath. She could also see the marks dotting the area around Niamh's neck--all too visible now that enough time had passed--where Leliana had been unable to resist sampling the flawless temptation of skin before her. She was a delight in more ways than one, truly.

"I'm fine."

"You're certain it wasn't too much?" Her continued inquiries only drew a roll of those mist-grey eyes, but there was little missing the smile upon her lover's lips.

"You ask me that as if I didn't provide you ample incentive to take me here. Besides, your own attire didn't escape entirely unscathed either," Niamh remarked, reaching out to touch the vee of her tunic, where it had a more noticeable rip that split further down the middle. The lacing that held it together was now noticeably frayed, barely held in place by the eyelets that were threatening to split at the seams. "Hm. Leave this with me in the morning. Madame de Fer mentioned wanting to introduce me to her seamtress. I can ask if she'd be willing to mend this as well."

"As you wish," was Leliana's own response, unable to deny her, given how so rarely Niamh asked for anything. Granted, Leliana was somewhat distracted with the attention being given to her as Niamh gently adjusted the wide collar of her shirt. She quite enjoyed those small, exploratory touches. "Would you like anything from the kitchens?"

"Later perhaps." Niamh turned her head then to guide her arm back into the sleeve of her robes. "I don't think I can feel my legs ye--"

And then the other woman paused very abruptly, tensing in her lap.

Confused, Leliana's arms tightened instinctively around her, her senses immediately going on alert for anything that could have startled her lover. "Niamh?"

But the mage continued to stare ahead. "I... I think I've ruined your desk," she answered haltingly, disbelief evident in her voice.

Leliana blinked, letting the words settle over her before following Niamh's gaze to the object in question. Her desk had been unceremoniously cleared before she had laid Niamh atop it earlier. Before long, she had her lover's bare back against the wooden surface as they rocked against one another. At one point, however, she could remember feeling the faintest tingle along the nape of her neck during their coupling. It wasn't unlike how she could detect Niamh using her element of her choice out in the battlefield before the mage allowed lightning to strike.

It did in fact strike there as Leliana curiously eyed the fractal burns now etched across the wood grain, perfectly encompassing the shape of her lover's back in jagged asymmetry. She saw beauty in the chaos of its design, but she could also see the dismay settling into Niamh's features, and Leliana couldn't stand to leave her upset. She pressed her lips to the shoulder closest to her, still bare with Niamh's distraction.

"'Ruin?'" she repeated. "How could anything you touch possibly be less than sublime?" Leliana couldn't stop her smug grin. "If anything, I would consider it a compliment to my skills..."

And Leliana supposed such evidence would make working at her desk all the more enjoyable in the future.

Of course, her humor had earned her a grumble of discontent as Niamh hid her face against her neck. Leliana could feel the heat of the woman's blush against her skin, which charmed and amused her in equal measure, but she made no comment about it.

She settled her feet apart more firmly before rising in one fluid motion. Her smirk grew somewhat at the soft noise it elicited from Niamh, who was perhaps still surprised that she could lift her so easily.

"Come along, Mon Ciel Étoilée," she said, carrying her toward the side door of the office that opened into Leliana's personal quarters. "I do believe a warm bath is calling for us."

((I did not forget about your other prompts, friend! I promise! I just decided to separate them into two other parts since they were getting rather long! 😅 I hope you like this first one though!))

[froggychair05]

Chapter Four 🫶

Thank you so so much to everyone that has been supporting me! I love all of you 🥺

[lil-vibes]

i would die if you wrote anything expanding on that post about chuuya being taken over by baki and just floating all over the place and speaking with an echo until he gets to dazai at the ADA office - that was a great idea, very cool

yooo thanks man !!!

here you go, a little more brainworms regarding that au!

• when Baki wakes up in a back alleyway and tries to stand up they overdo it and snap Chuuya's spine in the process. they try to walk and all of a sudden they are on the ground with mild pains from the vessel' legs. they aren't sure how a human body works, so for now they decide to just float.

• Baki, in my hc, is very curious for just about everything because it's quite rare that they 'view' the world through a humans' eyes

• piggybacking off of that, i think that they'd have trouble expressing their thoughts in the beggining (speaking in short, sometimes conflicting/unfinished sentences) because using human vocal cords without snapping them is difficult and also words have changed since the last time they were actively using them. Ranpo just chucks a dictionary at them and they absolutely ABSORB every word

• i also think that they'd want to sword fight with both Fukuzawa and Golden Demon/ Kouyou for fun

• they can make Dazai float and he just about gives up on life ( something something 'your human existence can not deny mine' yeah me thinks)

• i personally think that theyd be slightly more chill than expected, however when they get upset, or emotions generally run high, the control over the body begings to wobble. some examples of that being:

- the overlapping voices are the most common ones. they are a mass manifested through war and suffering and vengeance, thus Baki has to be extremely careful of how loud they speak because there's a great chance that someone's eardrums will explode.

- corruption markings are a damn near permanent fixture on Chuuya's skin, more so to help remind everyone that this isn't Chuuya in control right now (Dazai is constantly stressed about it, and has to consistently tell himself that it's fine), but they tend to grow and glow and move around like they are alive too, as if also taking offence that Baki is agitated. they also burn if touched directly

- people around an Agitated Baki feel like they are about to poof out of existence simply by being too close. Mori nearly dies once because Baki can see his general soul and is not pleased. it kinda feels like your blood suddenly starts running the other way, or your like heart is beating backwards and double in speed. not fun !

- sometimes birds fly into the windows. maybe the sky tints red, maybe there is ringing in the ears, static in the brain of those around them. maybe looking at Chuuya's form hurts a little, burns a little, blurs around the edges. what were his features again? what color were his eyes? his hair?

• Baki loves Chuuya and learning all about him :] ( "and his name? what is his name? we would love to know who our vessel is."

"it's Chuuya Nakahara.."

the entity thinks, hums for a bit, vibrations making the lights swim around it, then pleased, it smiles "hmm Chuuya... it suits him a lot" )

• disregarding stormbringer for a moment, when asked how exactly one traps a being like it, Baki kindly informs them that there are runes carved into every bone inside Chuuya. yes, they do mean every single one.

• also, and that's a little.... gruesome, but it's a misconception that Baki and Chuuya share only a consciousness. "it's like that most of the time, but right now what you are looking at is ... ah, let's say, our clothes. we are woven in-between his skin and bones and every blood vessel, but also we are separate. it's like a hand pupet? we are under his skin :)"

• Baki absolutely says unhinged things like its normal

• they also find it funny to tease Ranpo because they recognise just how smart of a human he is but also he's just that to them. a human

• i also have this scene when someone complains about the sun or something so Baki just,,, shifts either the Earth or the Sun a bit so that it's not shining directly at the person. everyone FREAKS abt this btw

• Baki also loves the Akutagawas and Kouyou bc Chuuya loves them :]

some skk things bc i love them:

• Baki tells Dazai, hand pressed against his heart, looking him dead in the eyes with that slightly unhinged expression "no wonder you hold onto warm things, for you have been warm once, then never again. no wonder you seek to be warm again" and Dazai just has to go through his day after that

• okay last thing off of the top of my head, but somehow they (the ada) get into the topic of worship and Baki casually drops that yes! they get prayers sometimes but nothing even begins to compare to the feeling of the worship from their most devoted person. naturally everyone wants to know who that is, and Baki tilts their head a little and then points to a Very Confused Dazai (Ranpo and Kunikida are exhanging money in the backround btw).

("but... i don't worship the hat rack?? what?"

"oh, but that can't be" they sway a little from their perch on Dazai's desk, appearing as if deep in thought. after the day, Dazai knows better. "but we can distinctly recal feeling a sort of warmth from you. say, how do you define worship? because it can be food offerings too. or thoughts about us or even just the pure, unrelenting faith that as long as you believe in us, your wish will be made into existence"

Dazai blinks at them, stunned.

"so now, has your answer changed?" )

• LAST one. Ranpo asks them if Dazai has ever nullified corruption with a kiss and Baki is like we think so? but Dazai denies that hard. Baki counters by saying that every place where 'coruption' has been nullified burns to this day. twice on left the wrist, once at the forearm. once at the right hand, once at the cheek, and once ot the lips. Dazai may or may not work harder to resolve the issue after that (he's never gonna beat the gay accusations)

(end of skk things hh)

• when it's time to surrender themselves back to Chuuyas will, Baki tells the ada + the Akutagawas and Kouyou, that when their time finally comes, when Chuuya is either one of them or dust in the wind, they will remember the kindness they have experienced. that they will live forever in the mind of a god

• Chuuya is so, so confused after waking up

[rintoorou]

JUST DIED . saw a suna fanart but it’s him in jjk as megumi i think.. there’s another one of him as inumaki but it looked more like kageyama to me 😭

[dracomeir]

Two of my favourite moments in Funkin' Adventures. This was in the Demonic Formalities arc.

This was in the Friday & Funkin arc which was a stupid D&D clusterfuck of a campaign that actually caused the order of arcs after it to change. I love rolling dice to determine fate. hehehe

I really wish ppl didn't throw OG Girlfriend's and Boyfriend's random silliness aside, or pretend shit like ADHD didn't exist for them. Another reason why I started writing my own shit. For your own AUs it's fine since they aren't the same characters, but for the OGs? Making OG GF a bitch just so you can have pico x bf? Turning OG BF into some weakass uwu bitch instead of keeping him as a smug, confident bastard? Nah, man. Fuck all that.

[apricusapollo]

the fact that dinluke call me by your name au doesn't exist is so sick and twisted because luke as elio din as oliver padme and anakin as elio's parents????? HELLO?????