#it has the first two puzzle rooms in it and s good chunk of the inital mystery!

[milktrician-hell]

HAPPY GHOST TRICK RELEASE DAY

[littlesparrcw]

( archie madekwe, cis man, he/him ) — Look what the werecat’s dragged in! If you take a look at our records, you’ll find that SPARROW is a TWENTY EIGHT year old ELECTRICIAN that’s been in Cromerth Woods for TWENTY TWO YEARS. According to this file, they’re a CYBORG hailing all the way from THE WILDS. That must be why they’re ADAPTABLE and ANXIOUS. If you ask me, they remind me of playing video games too late into the night, the hum of electricity, messy rooms, and petting stray animals. They are allied with NO ONE.

Name: Sparrow

Nickname(s): Little Sparrow (by his dad)

DOB: Unknown; but his dad celebrates it on 1st Jan

Age: 28~

Zodiac Sign: Capricorn

Sexuality: Unknown

Occupation: Electrician

Family: Father Dearest — Alive

APPEARANCE

Height: 6′5"

Eye Color: One brown, One light blue

Hair Color: Black

Aesthetic: https://www.pinterest.com/vexishere/sparrow/

Tattoos: None 

Piercings: None

Distinguishing Characteristics: Two different colored eyes (left is brown and right is light blue) and his arm is robotic

On an expedition into the Wilds, the Tinkerer didn't exactly know how an approximately five year old child was able to survive so long in the cursed land and no explanation was ever given, as the child didn't even know how to speak at the time. So an explanation as to why the child was found surrounded by a pile of dead bodies, none of which looked related to him. Instead of being afraid of the child, the tinkerer wasn't frightened and took in the child. His eye and his arm had been mangled by some cursed creature or maybe just the curse itself. The tinkerer took in the child because he very well couldn't leave him there to die and named the child Sparrow.

Now healing the child was much more of a process than the tinkerer expected. It was actually an expensive ordeal that left him in a lot of debt to a lot of sketchy people. But as long as Sparrow lived, he didn't care. Healing the child, left Sparrow without a working eye and a arm, so the tinkerer did what any tinkerer would do: he made replacements. At first they were rough pieces of technology, but eventually, the tinkerer created an eye and an arm with enhanced capabilities. The tinkerer always said, Sparrow didn't have to use the prosthetics if he didn't want to. But Sparrow thought they were cool.

Sparrow grew up somewhat of a wild child, hating the idea of being inside where he felt trapped, although he loved sitting and watching his dad tinker in his workshop. The pair didn't have a lot of extra money, but Sparrow knew that his dad took sketchy jobs fixing and making things for more money. Even as a young boy, Sparrow took to fixing and working with electronics, even with his inability to sit still. He loved a good game and puzzle. And not a day went by that Sparrow didn't find some sort of animal or creature to befriend and bring home. He knew he was a handful, but he was a happy kid.

Things got tough for the family when Sparrow turned fifteen and the people that his dad paid for medical support all those years ago came knocking. Sometimes Sparrow doesn't know if he could have prevented the accident, but he does know his father came back one day changed. That's when Sparrow started trying to become more responsible and take education seriously. He eventually settled on becoming an electrician. He also continued to take up a leadership role in his family, taking over a chunk of the family business and tinkering with some of the smaller projects his father had around the shop. Though Sparrow tried, their relationship never really recovered to what it was beforehand.

Now, Sparrow has moved out of his dad's house to his own little apartment. He owns his own little business fixing electronics, while also helping his dad with the shop on occasion. Sparrow spends a lot of his free time tinkering, though he's nowhere near as talented as his father, and loves playing games.

[deejadabbles]

Vampire Atem/Yami Alphabet Headcanons

Found this list of vamp-themes headcanons by @an-annyeoing-writer and I knew I had to do them for our favorite king-turned-spirit!

For those of you who read my Spells of Defiance series, these headcanons can be taken as 100% canon to that AU <3

A - Accident - would they turn someone to save their life?

Oof, already starting with a hard one. So, Atem is one of those vampires who hates his existence, he believes it’s a curse. However, he does still love and care for people deeply, and he knows that for many, life is sacred even if it’s a cursed life. I think in a moment of weakness, especially in his earlier years as a vampire, he might turn someone just because he’s desperate not to lose them, only to regret his decision later, especially if that someone is like him and hates what they’ve become. We all make mistakes, right?

B - Bite - how do they bite? Sensually, aggressively? Do they make it hurt or try to be gentle?

Atem is extremely gentle when he feeds off of people, always careful not to bite too deep or tear the skin more than needed, he even holds you and tries to soothe you with gentle strokes of his hands. Now, whether he tries to make it “sensual” or at all sexual...that’s a complicated topic. While Atem is almost always disgusted with himself when/while he feeds, he does recognize that there is a level of intimacy and even romance that can be connected with drinking blood, so sometimes he can be persuaded to make it a more sensual thing if you’re his lover. 

C - Control - do they take advantage of their powers?

That depends on who’s in the equation. I can see Atem using his new powers in order to bring justice to those he sees as wrong doers (like his season 0/early manga-self) as a way to make his vampire abilities useful, so from that angle he would “take advantage” of his powers. He might even get some small gratification in using his strength and speed to hunt down evil people, them cowering in fear is retribution for their wrong-doings, but even that’s not too over the top. Other than that, no, he doesn’t really use his powers for advantages over others.

D - Dangerous - how scary they can get? How bad things can they do? What’s their ethics?

So, while Atem does have a very strong moral code, Atem also has a temper, and said temper might be harder to control when he’s a vampire. Even when he’s not growling in anger, he can have this cold glare that could make bikers squeamish. There are moments, especially when he was a younger vampire, where he loses his temper and can get pretty scary. If you’re his loved one don’t worry too much, he would never lose control enough to hurt you, even though his yelling (and maybe throwing a thing or two) is pretty scary on it’s own. If you’re someone he sees a vermin though watch out, when he gets scary you’re probably going to end up dead or wishing you were dead.

E - Exchange - do they opt for blood bags or animal blood, if possible?

He opts for animal blood as often as he can. Sometimes he’ll hunt said animals himself but even that is a little too violent for his liking (Atem is a softie okay?!) so if he can go to a local butcher and get animal blood from them he’ll do it that way. He’s not fond of blood bags because A) they’re harder to acquire and B) having human blood in a cold plastic bag just makes him long for warm human blood and skin under his teeth more. Sure animal blood isn’t as sustaining for him, but Atem spent decades (maybe even centuries) figuring out how much animal blood he needs to consume in order to keep his blood lust under control so he’ll choose that over harming an innocent human.

Also, side note, if you live with him I hope you don’t have a sensitive sense of smell, because he heats up the blood on the stove to make it taste better and it can make the house stinky lol

F - First bite - on what occasion would they bite you for the first time?

Oooh that’s a good one. Like I said Atem has a very complicated relationship with feeding from his loved ones, especially his s/o, and he’s never going to ask you for your blood. So I’d say that not only would you have to offer your blood to him, but he would have to be out of other feeding options at the time. He knows that once he reaches a certain point of hunger he loses control and might kill you in a hunger-induced blood rage, so if drinking from you now, before he gets to that point, prevents that danger, he’d be willing to. Like I said above, Atem would be very gentle with you on that occasion, holding you close and stroking the skin around the bite mark to soothe any pain, and when he’s done he’d kiss the wound and the sore skin around it as amends.

The only other “first bite” scenario I can think of is if you spend months convincing him that you don’t mind (or even like) the occasional bite and finally convince him to drink your blood during an intimate moment, and again he’s very gentle and mindful of not hurting you.

G - Growl - are they more on the “civilized” side or do they enjoy hunting their prey down?

A bit of both, I guess? Since he tries not to drink from humans he’s more civilized in that way, but like I said before he does “hunt” evil people like an avenging dark angel, which he may get some small form of enjoyment from, so... 

H - Hate - how do they feel about their kind? About themselves?

It’s honestly pretty depressing how much self-loathing Atem harbors. He genuinely thinks he’s an abomination. It doesn’t help that in all his centuries of living, he’s met very few vampires who’re “good” like him. He’s also someone who’s on a high horse and if he met a vamp who didn’t kill human’s but also wasn’t self loathing like him, he’d look down on said vampire. I’m warning you now if you fall in love with him, his self-hatred is very upsetting and can be hard to deal with.

I - Intimacy - how fast would they let you close to them? Would they want to share with you what they are?

Surprisingly, I say it’s not that hard. See, even though Atem thinks he’s a monster and tries his best to stay away from people, he also craves companionship and love. Sure, he’s spent several chunks of his immortal life isolating himself in remote woods and tall mountains for decades at a time, but he always returns to humanity at some point. So if you show that you want to be close to him he’ll try to warn you or even scare you away a bit, but it won’t take too long to let you in. And yes, he’d share what he is with you if you started to get close to him, not only as a means to scare you away “before he can hurt you” but also so you know what you’re getting into by being near him.

J - Joke - would they do pranks on other people with the use of their powers?

Sometimes, yes. If he’s close to you, he’ll start to get comfortable and like teasing you, so he’ll do minor things like sneak up behind you soundlessly and jump scare you, or zoom past you to get to something before you and play keep-away. Also, he doesn’t do this one intentionally, but sometimes he’ll be sitting in a dark room, and when you walk in you just suddenly hear this voice calling out to you in the darkness, scaring the crap outta you lol

K - Key - what’s the way of making them open up to you?

Honestly just...continue to shove your friendship in his face. Like I said under “intimacy” he still craves relationships and companionship despite how much he fears hurting people. He may try to push you away at first but if you just continue to hang around him he’ll eventually stop trying to scare you away and start opening up to you little by little.

L - Life - do they wish they were human?

Absolutely. I can see Atem, ever the fixer of problems, spending the first few hundred years searching for a cure for his “condition” not just for himself but for others who view vampires the same way. He often thinks about what his life would have been if he hadn’t been turned, and daydreams about the possibility of becoming human again. 

M - Murder - would they kill someone while feeding? Have they ever done so?

Atem has killed while feeding, yes, but not voluntarily. I’m going with the general lore that vampires, when starved too long, can't control their bloodlust and Atem has killed while in that state. When he wakes with a limp, lifeless body in his arms, he’s a devastated wreck. Hurting innocent people is literally his living nightmare and the idea that his bloodlust can turn him into an animal sickens him. He would spend decades learning how much blood he needs to consume and how often, in order to keep that bloodlust from taking control.

N - Nature - do they justify their doings? Do they consider them natural?

Atem, the self-loathing martyr of a fanged prince, considering his bloodlust natural? LMAOOOO No. No he doesn’t, nor does he ever justify his actions. In fact, he uses the terrible things he’s done to justify why he shouldn’t be loved or even alive.

O - Odd - do they have any specific hobbies or habits?

Our gentle dark prince still loves games and puzzles, I think he’d like modern brain teasers that keep his mind sharp and un-ironically loves the puzzle games printed on the back of sunday newspapers, even though they aren’t hard (for him anyway). If you got close to him and showed him games he never got to play bc they’re multiplayers he’d honestly love you. He’d win most of the time, let's be honest, especially things like Clue, but his expression is just so cute and excited when you play his favorites that you’d lose 1000 times over just to see it.

P - Pain - are they sadistic? Do they enjoy what they do?

Nope. I think you all have the idea by now but Atem is one of the most self-loathing and gentle vampires you’d meet....or at least he’s gentle with you. Other vampires who hurt people for fun? Okay, I can see him being ever so slightly sadistic when dealing with creatures like that, he has no mercy for vampires who’ve embraced their monstrous curse, best you run the other way when he punishes them, else you may actually get a little frightened of him...

R - Roles - do they enjoy pretending to be normal people? How do they feel about leaving their life behind to start a new one?

I wouldn’t say that Atem pretends to be normal, in fact, the only part of his vampirism that he embraces is being an “other”, or rather, the aesthetic of being odd, something that most humans feel uneasy when confronted with. He’d see this as a good tool to keep people he may hurt away from him. He’s no stranger to stalking graveyards/cemeteries, creeping in the shadows in a way that has others scurrying past if they happen to spot him, basically anything that makes him seem creepy and makes others keep their distance. Ultimately it hurts him since he’s unexplainably lonely, but it hurts more to know he may hurt the humans he comes across. On the same note, leaving behind one life for another to avoid suspicion is a double-edged sword for him, while it reminds him how terribly lonely existence is, it’s good to keep those who might’ve grown close to him safe.

S - Scars - do they leave marks or try to make the wounds small and invisible?

If Atem feeds from someone voluntarily (as in, not in an animalistic state), he’ll do everything he can to not leave lasting marks. Leaving marks means more pain and we all know how much he hates causing pain to others. 

T - Turned - how were they turned?

In my fic, Marik turned Atem as a form of revenge, but otherwise, I could honestly see Atem being turned by any YGO villain. I say villain because him being cursed with this life by a villain (like Bakura for example, or maybe another minion of Zorc) kind of goes along with the original story’s need to punish Atem and cast him into darkness for things that ultimately weren’t his fault.

U - Universe - what’s their biggest wish that they can’t achieve as immortals?

Mostly just...being close to people without constantly worrying that he’ll hurt or kill them. I can also see Atem yeaning for the simple pleasure of growing old and dying with one's family. If he fell in love he would crave the ability to just settle down and grow old together. Hell, he’s even one of those morbid romantics who thinks couples dying within days of each other is sweet and wishes he could do that when he loses his lover to old age.

V - Vampire - would they turn you?

Man again with the hard ones! Oof, okay, so...If you asked Atem to turn you, he’d say no, reciting his monologue about how vampires are cursed vermin who shouldn’t even exist, even if you retained your humanity after the turn, he knows the deep reaches of this curse and what it will make you do, and he hates the idea of you going through what he has.

...However, much like in the very first headcanon on this list...Atem makes mistakes and has his weak moments. If your life ended unexpectedly, of you were taken from him suddenly, like attacked or in some fatal accident, he may turn you in a moment of weakness; a desperate need to cling to you taking over his better judgment. He’d hate himself after and the only way he’d ever feel okay with it, is if time proved that you retained your humanity. He would teach you how to control your blood lust so you don’t have to go through half the things he has, and only then would he be okay with what he did to you in his moment of weakness.

W - War - would they engage in fighting their own kind for the humanity’s sake?

Yes! No one even has to ask him, Atem basically thinks the only good thing he can do with his powers is to rid the world of other vampires. He’s basically an avenging angel who’ll hunt down any vampire who threatens a human.

Y - Yandere - would they become dangerous to you (their lover)?

For the most part, I’d say no. Atem is self-aware and emotionally intelligent enough to tell if he ever starts crossing lines into “unhealthy” territory, and if that ever happened, he’d literally run away. He would leave you in order to protect you, no matter how much it hurt. There may be one (literally ONE) incident where he does something to you that crosses the line, but he’d be instantly horrified and remove himself from your life, moving to the other side of the world with no means to follow him, if it meant protecting you from himself. Now the chances of this happening in the first place? Hard to say. I really don’t think Atem is unhinged or even violent enough for it to be likely, but, an argument could be made that after everything he’s gone through, Atem may start seeing you and his love for you in an obsessives, unhealthy way. Again though, even if this did happen he would realize it and run away before it can go too far.

Z - Zombie - are they on their way to losing sanity?

I don’t think so. Atem is as strong (mentally/emotionally) as they come. Maybe eventually, after millennia and millennia of constantly losing loved ones and dealing the the monster he’s become he would start losing his sanity, but that would take a long, long time. 

[watermelonlipstick]

Dreams, Chapter 11

If you haven’t read this series before, you might want to start on Chapter 1, or check out the Dreams Masterlist! Here’s the series description:

When Dean dies for good leaving Sam and his girlfriend (the reader) behind, they must figure out how to carry on without him. Alone, reeling, and unsure what to do next, trying to honor Dean’s memory and follow their hearts gets even more complicated when their nightmares become dreams that feel a little too real.

Title: Dreams, Chapter 11

Pairing: (past) Dean Winchester x Reader, (eventual) Sam Winchester x Reader

Word Count: 2616

Summary: Another dream makes things more clear for the reader and less clear for Sam.

Warnings: angst, fluff, swearing, s l o w  b u r n

           The booths are those plastic-coated pressboard swoops that are so easy to clean, one row down either side of the long room once you walk past the counter to order. Like other pizza places, there are red pepper flakes and grated parmesan on the table, but they also keep ranch dressing in a minifridge behind the counter as a concession to Midwestern sensibilities. You know you’re just outside Dayton just like you know the pizza shop is run by a family, father and two older teenage daughters deftly throwing dough and scattering cheese evenly over it in a way that shows their years of practice. Dean sits across the table with his elbows on it, one forefinger and thumb picking through a plate of nachos between you. His black t-shirt, amulet, and lack of flannel make you notice the hum of the air conditioner in the background, straining over the 90’s alternative radio and reminding you that you’d been here in a heat stroke the summer after you and Dean had gotten together, his golden freckles and lightened tips of his slightly messy hair underlining the memory.

           “They don’t serve nachos here.” It’s half statement and half question.

           “Babe, it’s your dream. They’ll serve whatever you want. Does the pizza suck in Wisconsin or something?”

           The two sisters are whispering to each other as they look over at your table, an almost-argument that ends with who you suspect is the older sister poofing a pinch of flour into the other’s face. They’re both cute girls but she’s adorable, soft cherubic cheeks and messy bun piling impossibly glossy hair on her head as she walks over to the table with a gigantic pizza. “Can I get you anything else?” she asks in a perfect welcoming cheerleader pitch.

           “I think we’re good for now, sweetheart,” Dean purrs with a wink. That you remember; you’d playfully chastised Dean for dazzling the teens, laughing in his face when he’d said it wasn’t on purpose, that he couldn’t help it if chicks dug him. The wink had proved your point then and now it makes the girl’s cheeks flush red.

           She catches herself remarkably well, the stammer almost slipping under the radar as she assures you that you can “holler if you need anything!”

           Dean brushes his fingers free of nacho debris and loosens a piece of pizza from the melting cheese of the ones next to it. “Last time you had all kinds of sweet nothings and questions for me and now you’re Silent Cal?”

           “I don’t think this is real, but I’m pretty sure if I push it you’ll either die in this dream or I’ll wake up, so my plan is to stay here as long as we can.”

           He drops the pizza back into the box and wipes off his fingers on a napkin before slouching into the booth, arm stretched across its length. “So test me then. Gimme a question only I would know or something.”

           “Well if I ask you something that I know the answer to, my brain will just project you knowing it. See the problem?”

           Dean squints and pouts in consideration, touch of a smile dancing across his face and if it isn’t the most beautiful thing you’ve ever seen may you be struck dead right now. “Then ask me something you don’t know the answer to.”

           You think about explaining how that too could just be some part of your subconscious recreation of Dean but you don’t want to keep pulling at loose strings in the event that it wakes you up. It’s too hard to keep from smiling, seeing Dean charming and relaxed like this, and when you grin it makes Dean bite his lip. “What’s something I don’t know the answer to?”

           “Ah, ah—I thought I’m just a hologram, how would I know?”

           “Projection, but okay,” you stall. “Wait, here’s one. Sam said when I first started going on jobs with you guys that you had to have a conversation about staying focused. What was that all about?”

           He runs his tongue along the inside of his lower lip. “Man, why would he tell you that?” he says under his breath, smirking mostly to himself before leaning forward to meet your eyes. “Fine. I’m not even sure that you’re going to remember this. There was a vengeful spirit in Indiana, some like homesteader guy, ring a bell?”

           You have only the vaguest sense of recollection and sort of waggle your head to show it.

           “It was way at the beginning of when you started coming on jobs with us. You and Bobby got into it because he wanted you to bring your own car so you could ditch us if we were ‘acting like cretins’ or some shit like that?”

           That fits the last puzzle piece in for you and makes you chuckle. “He ended up giving me like $250 of mad money in case I needed a new room or a bus ticket, yeah. I remember.”

           “I didn’t know that part but that’s gotta be the same trip. The whole thing was really stupid. Basically we were supposed to have your six but both me and Sammy wanted to carry a shotgun instead of doing that protection spell because it looked cooler. We were arguing about it when the spirit whipped a chunk of the barn’s scaffolding at you and we didn’t catch it in time. You heard it coming and ducked so nothing ended up happening, but it fucking demolished the wall behind you. It was a huge fuckup—thing could’ve taken your head clean off, you know? Sam was so broken up about it he was wasted for like a week solid after we dropped you back off at Bobby’s.”

           “Really? That doesn’t sound like him at all.”

           “I know, usually he does some kind of pouty baby bullshit. But I mean both of us felt really guilty that bitching at each other could’ve taken you out.”

           Dean’s eyes rake over your face, seeming to linger over every inch like he’s going to draw a topographical map of it later by memory. You can tell he’s waiting for you to say something but you can’t think of anything other than tracing each of his freckles where they dust across his nose.

           A hand reaches over the table to run his fingertips along the back of yours, and that certainly feels real enough to send an ache into your gut. “What if you ask Sam? If he says that’s not what happened then you can keep saying I’m not real and you don’t have to listen to me.”

           “But he already basically told me that. The only thing I probably wouldn’t have guessed about that is Sam getting drunk about it—these could’ve been just well-informed guesses about when it probably was or the kinds of things it seemed like he was implying.”

           His lips press into a firm line and the barest touch of pink rises in his cheeks. “We, um, we pinky swore on it.”

           The adorableness of his embarrassment makes you grin teasingly as much as the divulgence does. “A pinky promise? You guys must’ve been pretty serious to take such a sacred oath.”

           He rolls his eyes at your ribbing and throws his hands back in his lap with a defeated smirk. “Laugh it up. Would that be good enough proof for you?”

           It seems like Dean has figured out a loophole in the system, but you’re sure the light of day and Sam’s scrutiny will figure out why it isn’t actual evidence of communication with Dean beyond death, and you tell him that.

           A curtain of suspicious confusion falls over Dean’s face. “Sam being weird about it is what’s keeping you from trusting this? Kid, I’ve been talking to Sa—”

           And you woke up.

           The bed was empty next to you but you could smell something sweet in the air and hear the light clinking of pots or pans Sam was trying his best to keep quiet. You blinked back a few tears of frustration—who even cared if it was real or not? Reliving a great memory with Dean was more than enough and instead of enjoying it you’d wasted a chance at some small respite from your constant ache of grief. And even then, you hadn’t used any of your time to figure out how the whole thing worked, how you could see him again.

           But the most pressing issue was what you thought Dean had been trying to say before disappearing; that he had gotten through to Sam. Sam, of course, deserved to have secrets, but if he had been sitting on the resolution to all the angst you’d been struggling through in the last weeks (months?), you couldn’t imagine a reason why that wouldn’t hurt. Nothing would be solved by laying in your bed to sulk about it, though, so you threw on some clothes and went to brush your teeth.

           When you came out, Sam was hunched slightly, the standard stove highlighting his decidedly non-standard height as he shuffled a pan’s handle. He had a dishtowel over his t-shirt clad shoulder, a habit from the bar that sometimes held over when he was in the kitchen at home, and bare feet under old jeans. They were wearing through at the knees, and you knew they were absolutely pajama-soft from having periodically thrown them in with your own laundry. Through the kitchen window, enough snow-brightened sunlight came into the room to cast him in a halo glow that gleamed off of his hair. As long as it had gotten, chunks still swept into his face as he looked down at the stove, and he tucked one behind his ear as he looked up, half-singing a Buddy Guy song that was playing softly. It was stunning—he was stunning, statuesque and strong and right there in front of you. Cooking you breakfast while you slept in, of all things, chocolate chip pancakes he had to have remembered were your favorite from ages ago. You couldn’t even remember the last time you’d had them and right now, nothing in the world sounded better. He beamed and tilted the pan toward you. “Morning! I made pancakes, you want some?”

           And you should’ve just let the moment rest, sat in the rare bright winter morning and eaten chocolate chip pancakes and relished how well the boiler was working, maybe later in the day read a predictable murder mystery or taped off the living room to be painted and listened to REM until your shoulders were sore from running rollers up the walls all afternoon. Instead, about as stupid and weird a flop as if a toad had come out of your mouth, you said, “Have you been talking to Dean too?”

           Sam’s face fell but not in the right way. There was too much angle in his brow and that confirmed it. “What?” he asked, but it didn’t land.

           “How long have you been talking to Dean?”

           He kept that curious smile for a second, like maybe he could push through by playing dumb and you would forget, but finally his lips flattened and his jaw clenched as he stacked a finished pancake on top of its predecessors. “Just because I’m having dreams about him doesn’t mean it’s really him,” he finally answered, softly and as though he was telling the bubbling pancake batter in front of him, unable to meet your eyes.

           You felt the lump forming in your throat and tried to get the words out ahead of its solidifying. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

           “For what?” He let go of the pan and turned toward you, supporting his weight on the countertop. “So we can both—”

           “Both what? Be delusional? Is that what you were going to say?”

           Sam didn’t answer, but the set of his jaw was firm and he kept his eyes locked on yours.

           “He told me you were drunk for a week after the hunt you were talking about.” You watched as Sam’s pupils widened a touch. “And that you didn’t just promise each other to buckle down, you pinky swore.” Sam’s Adam’s apple jumped in his throat. “It’s true, isn’t it? I can see in your face that it is. Did you already know it’s really him?”

           He looked down at the floor and clenched his jaw. “I was pretty sure. Or at least I really hoped I was pretty sure.”

           You felt more than consciously allowed your mouth’s falling open. “How? How long?”

           “It just—I don’t know, it just felt different. I—uh, the first time was after we made those cupcakes; he asked about the cupcakes.”

           You slumped against the countertop opposite him, speechless. He shoved the pan off the hot burner a little too hard, put a palm on either side of the stove to brace himself. The two of you stood like that for a long minute, the smell of chocolate not matching the stiff heaviness in the air at all.

           “I don’t—what if it’s not real?” His throat sounded bound even though you couldn’t see his face, hulking mass of him spread across the tiny kitchen.

           He seemed so defeated, so young, and then you couldn’t believe how selfish you’d been, not putting two and two together that something challenging Sam’s grip on or understanding of reality must shove him back to the brain melting torture he’d endured in the cage and the months—years, maybe, he was always so tight-lipped about it—afterward. What the fuck were you thinking, not seeing it before, how this could seem like a perfectly laid trap for Sam, the most poetic way to whip his mind into stiff peaks of meringue. It made so much sense why he would need time to really suss it out, see the situation from all angles and investigate, check and re-check. Tears pricked the corners of your eyes but you blinked them away. This was not about you or your complicated need for him, it was about Sam, what he’d been through, what he was likely putting himself through even now.

           “The, um, the pancakes smell really good.”

           “Yeah?” There was half a laugh behind his words, humorless as it was. “I hope they’re okay, I know they’re your, uh, your favorite.”

           “I’m surprised you remembered.”

           Sam leaned on one arm to rub his face with his other hand. “Yeah, well.”

           “Can I help?”

           After a beat, he stood up and offered some space next to him on the stove. You worked hip to hip, sprinkling the chocolate chips while Sam flipped. He was scraping the last of the batter into a last little runt pancake with a spatula when you couldn’t help yourself and wrapped your arms around his waist. He seemed surprised, if sad, before setting down the bowl and covering as much of you as he could, folding over you like a protective shell. It reminded you of that dirty motel room, months and months ago, when Sam held you together as you cracked in his arms. All he could do then was be steadfast in reminding you he was still there, if nothing else was, and you hoped you were able to give him the same now.

           You silently laid two place settings on the kitchen counter while Sam set the food out. He sat next to you and had picked up his fork when you touched his wrist to still him. “If it’s not real for you then I’m losing it too.”

           Sam thought for a second, then raised his forearm and kissed the back of your hand where you held onto him before cutting into his pancakes.

-

Continue to Dreams, Chapter 12

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[inevitably-johnlocked]

Hi Steph!! I was wondering if you knew of any really long fics (like 25k or more) that are only one chapter, I travel a lot sometimes and some places don't really have good enough internet for multi chapter fics. So yeah, any really long one chapter fics about John and Sherlock would be appreciated. Thank you!

Hey Nonny!!

LOL OKAY FUNNY STORY. I almost replied to this with “oof I’ll have to read EVERYTHING so I’m sorry.... and then... I remembered.......

I put chapter counts on everything 🙃😐 

I’m not the brightest crayon in the box. 🖍 

Anyway, so yes, I can definitely rec you some fics! BUT I should also offer you two suggestions you can totally do to read ANY fic!

On Ao3, you can click on the “Entire Work” button to load ALL chapters of a fic (it’s the very first button along the top) and in turn you can then just read it all there! 

And the very last button along the top, you can Download copies of the fic to your phone or computer with eBook file types (AZw3 for Kindle, ePub for iPhone’s Books app, and MOBI is for other mobile devices and e-readers), the HTML if you want to read it as-is in a web-browser, or the PDF format which is a universal file format that is supported by everything, even web browsers, so it’s a good one to download if you don’t know what format you need :) If you read on an eReader, though, I can’t recommend enough just downloading the format for your device. You get to keep a copy of the fic AND the eReader keeps it nicely formatted. It’s a BRILLIANT, BEAUTIFUL feature that Ao3 gave us, because I like downloading all my fics and read them later in iBooks. Once you start that, Nonny, you can’t do it any other way. AND at the VERY END of the fics, it links BACK to the original post so you can bookmark, kudos, and comment on it!! <3

So yeah, two options you can do to solve your poopy internet and still read long fics hee hee! <3

ANYWAY EXCUSE FOR A NEW LIST LOL. 

ALSO, side note, check out @silentauroriamthereal; a large chunk of her fics are both long AND one chapter, so it’s a good place to go and she’s a brilliant author so I don’t think you’ll be disappointed! <3 Plus a lot of her fics are on this list, so I am sorry hahah.

AND I wanted to make the list a bit longer than I had, so I picked fics over 20K, if that’s alright :) As always, if you wrote a 20k+ single chapter fic, let us know!

SINGLE CHAPTER FICS OVER 20K WORDS

A Life Well-Lived by Kate_Lear (E, 20,121 w., 1 Ch. || Original Male Character, Sherlock Woos John, Jealous Sherlock, Reluctant Bi-John, Past Abuse, Insecure John, Reassuring / Caring Sherlock, Protective Sherlock, Understanding Sherlock) – John got scared off men by an abusive past relationship. Sherlock has to try and woo him while not scaring him off with protective possessive rage.

The White Lotuses by SilentAuror (E, 20,340 w., 1 Ch. || Slow Burn, Domestic, Romance) – One day John realises that he just isn't where he belongs, which is back at Baker Street with Sherlock. So he goes back and Sherlock, in his own way, courts him. Romance.

Out of the Woods by SilentAuror (E, 20,471 w., 1 Ch. || Post S4, Romance, Slow Burn, Flirting, Drunk Sex, Practical Jokes, POV Sherlock, Bottomlock, Possessive John, Pining Sherlock, Frustrated Wanking, Frottage, Hand Jobs, Blow Jobs, First Kiss/Time, Virgin Sherlock, Love Confessions, Soft Sherlock, Dancing, Bum Appreciation, Hanging out with the Yard) – Sherlock is fairly certain that John has taken to flirting with him of late, but can't be entirely certain of it. At least, not until a case takes them into a forest, along with Lestrade's team and something happens that will change everything about their lives...

You're On the Air by prettysailorsoldier (M, 20,616 w., 1 Ch. || Unilock, Matchmaking, Radio, Christmas, Christmas Fluff, First Kiss, Friends to Lovers, Sherlock POV, Pining Sherlock, Flirting, Bisexual John) – The Consulting Detective and The Woman dominate the airwaves of their university radio station, doling out advice on everything from meeting the parents to sexual positions. When their ratings start to dip before the holidays, however, manager Mike thinks it's time for some fresh blood, and who better to fill in the gaps than rugby captain--and notorious flirt--John Watson? Part 1 of 25 Days of Johnlock

whiskies neat by Ellipsical (E, 20,660 w., 15 Ch. || Alternate First Meeting, POV Second Person Sherlock, Slow Burn, One Night Stand, Rimming, Blow Jobs, Anal, Soldier John, Crying, Emotional Lovemaking, Switchlock) – Home and hearth and whiskies neat, or, alternatively, Sherlock Holmes falls in love.

Achieving the Together-Coloured Instant by teahigh (E, 20,776 w., 1 Ch. || Est. Rel, PTSD, Codependency, Fluff & Angst, H/C, Smut, Demisexual Sherlock, Experiments) – John wonders if this is how it’s going to be: A life speaking in code, because they’re both too stupid to figure out how to say, “I love you.”

Winter's Delights by Kate_Lear (E, 21,173 w., 1 Ch. || Holmes Family, Christmas, Fake Relationship, Friends to Lovers, Bed Sharing, Domestics) – Sherlock takes John home for Christmas to meet the extended Holmes family. Part 1 of Winter's Delights

Love Is by SilentAuror (E, 21,508 w., 1 Ch. || Angst, UST / URT, Post HLV, Romance) – At Mrs Hudson’s urging, Sherlock finally decides to tell John how he feels about him. Part 1 of Love Is

echoes through time by chellefic (E, 21,619 w., 1 Ch. || First Time, Romance, ACD & BBC, Epistolary) – Mummy sends a trunk from the Holmes cottage in Sussex to 221B. Its contents alter the way John and Sherlock see themselves and one another.

Ghost Stories by SwissMiss (M, 22,256 w., 1 Ch. || Pining, Holmes Family, Christmas, Friends to Lovers, Slow Burn, Bed Sharing, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, First Time) – Sherlock's parents think he and John are a couple. They might be onto something.

Sonatina in G Minor by SilentAuror (E, 22,574 w., 1 Ch. || Case Fic, POV Sherlock, Angst, UST, Sherlock’s Violin, Post-S3, Romance) – John has come back to Baker Street, but Sherlock doesn't understand the strange tension between them, even after he begins teaching John to play the violin at John's request.

The Kepler Problem by kinklock (E, 24,270 w., 1 Ch. || Sci-Fi AU, Alien Sherlock, Space Repairman John, Alien Biology, Horny John) – Working in uncharted space exploration was not as exciting as John had hoped, especially when it turned out to be mostly bot maintenance on uninhabited planets. However, the mystery of the repeated, unexplained malfunctions on planet BAK 2212 might turn out to be exactly the kind of adventure he'd been craving.

26 Pieces by Lanning (E, 28,236 w., 1 Ch. || H/C, Torture, First Time, Happy Ending, Schmoop, Past Abuse) – Mycroft gives Sherlock the apparently simple task of solving a puzzle box containing a stolen microchip. It isn't simple.

The Wisteria Tree by SilentAuror (E, 29,773 w., 1 Ch. || Post-S3, Emotional Love Making, Amnesia/Memory Loss, Sherlock Loves John So Much, Sherlock POV, Romance, Angst with Happy Ending, First Times, Hurt/Comfort, Est. Rel., Retirement) – Sherlock wakes up from a month-long coma only to discover that he has no memory of the previous six years to his own shock as well as John's...

Shallow Grave by SilentAuror (E, 31,672 w., 1 Ch. || Romance, Angst, HLV Fix It, Infidelity, Pining Sherlock, First Person POV Sherlock) – Starts as Sherlock's plane is taking off at the end of His Last Vow. When he finds out that Moriarty is alive and that he's being recalled from his mission, Sherlock decides that he should have told John how he felt before he left. So he walks off the plane and kisses him.

The Midas Touch by flawedamythyst (E, 32,231 w., 1 Ch. || PODFIC AVAILABLE || Magical Realism || John has a Magical Cock, Dub Con, Healer John) – John Watson has a medical condition that means everyone he sleeps with is instantly healed of all illness and injury. This causes complications when Sherlock breaks his arm, and even more complications when Sherlock falls in love with him. Yes, this is a story where John has a literal magic healing cock. It's a lot less cracky than you're probably imagining. Warning: Contains complex issues of sexual consent, although not between Sherlock and John.

The Whore of Babylon Was a Perfectly Nice Girl by out_there (E, 32,897 w., 1 Ch. || Past Drug Use, Blowjobs, Toplock, Mentions of Switching, Rough Sex, Background Cases, Sherlock’s Past, Sherlock’s Sexual History, Experienced Sherlock, Past One Night Stands, Fingering, Cuddling, Possessive Sherlock, Paris Holiday, Bed Sharing, Naked Lie-Ins, Bathing Together, Confessions, Worried Sherlock, Laying in Bed All Day, Meddling Mycroft, Naked Lazy Day) – Sherlock walks into a room and takes all the space right out of it. He does the same inside John's head.

Our Enthusiasms Which Cannot Always Be Explained by withoutawish (M, 32,961 w., 1 Ch. || Christmas, Fluff and Angst, H/C, Post-TRF, Case Fic, Mild Gore, Sherlock Whump) – The list that is tacked haphazardly on the refrigerator of 221B reads, ‘Kidney(s), and/or a full cadaver (preferably male, late 30s, under six feet tall), bag of fresh toes, sixteen cow’s eyes (corneas retained), dual exhaust hand –held flame thrower, an unopened first edition copy of Joseph Conrad’s 'Heart of Darkness', and no less than ten abhorrently gruesome murders in the upcoming month.” The one neatly hanging next to it simply reads, “Sex.” One of these lists is not John Watson’s. If John Watson were to put what he really wanted in list form, to live in a land somewhere beyond ‘almosts' now that Sherlock Holmes has indeed returned to him, he would never be able to look his flatmate in the eye ever again.

Bedtime Stories by Liketheriver (M, 34,388 w., 1 Ch. || Emotional H/C, Romance, Angst & Humour, Bed Sharing, John First Person, TRF, John Whump) – John's POV during Season 2 and beyond when Sherlock takes up semi-permanent residence in his bed. A collection of codas and missing scenes wrapped up into one long fic and topped with a bow that takes the story beyond Reichenbach and into happy territory once more. Part 1 of Bedtime Universe

The Yellow Poppies by SilentAuror (E, 34,952 w., 1 Ch. || H/C, Nightmares, HLV Fix-It, PTSD, Trauma, POV Sherlock, Doctor John) – Sherlock is threatened and assaulted in the hospital immediately after having been shot in the heart, first by Mary, then by Magnussen. As he recovers at Baker Street with John and plans the attack on Appledore with Mycroft, he fights to work through the trauma caused by these two visits. Set during His Last Vow.

The Unfinished Letters by SilentAuror (E, 37,391 w., 1 Ch. || Post S3 / S3 / HLV Fix it, Angst with Happy Ending, Romance, Infidelity, Depression, Case Fic, POV Third Person Sherlock, Love Confessions, Pining Sherlock, Letters) – A fire at Baker Street leads John to read something he was never intended to see: a notebook of half-written, unfinished letters Sherlock wrote during his time away...

Set in Stone by SilentAuror (E, 39,309 w., 1 Ch. || Romance, Wedding, Therapy, Fluff and Angst) – Sherlock and John are back from Ravine Valley and planning their wedding. However, as they move past the trial of the human traffickers, Sherlock can't help but wonder if he's imagining that John is becoming a little distant. Surely he isn't getting cold feet about the wedding... Part 2 of The Ravine Valley series

Act IV by SilentAuror (E, 39,707 w., 1 Ch. || First Person POV Sherlock, HLV Fix-It, Infidelity, Angst, Drama) – After Sherlock is shot, John moves back into Baker Street. They spend the autumn together as John tries to make sense of his life and make some important decisions about both Mary and Sherlock. Canon-compliant, excerpts from His Last Vow.

The Four Horsemen of the Apocalypse by SilentAuror (E, 50,635 w., 1 Ch. || Post-S4/S4 Divergence, Case Fic, For a Case / Reverse Fake-Relationship, Conferences, Marriage Equality, Travelling / New York, Pride, Homophobia, Bottomlock, Marriage Proposal, John POV, Sexuality, Love Confessions, Emotional Love Making, Public Hand Jobs, Blow Jobs, Passionate Kissing, Needy/Clingy Sherlock, Virgin Sherlock, Touching / Hand Holding, Bed Sharing, Little Spoon Sherlock, Intense Orgasms) – John and Sherlock go to New York to attend a conference run by the National Defence of Traditional Marriage Coalition in order to investigate the potential bombing of the annual Manhattan Pride parade. As the conference unfolds, John finds himself repulsed by the toxic ideology being presented, which becomes relevent to his own unacknowledged issues and his friendship with Sherlock...

[dappercritter]

Godzilla vs Kong: Brutally Honest Thoughts

(Took me long enough, eh? Depending on home video releases be like that.)

So first things first, I have a confession to make: I spoiled the movie before I watched it. I was impatient and they had only announced an HBO Max premiere in the states and a theatrical run in Canada at the time. Afterward, I got heads-up from a friend and immersed myself in the opinions of those lucky enough to see it early. I’m just saying that I have some preconceived opinions that I’m sticking to.

That said, Godzilla vs Kong turned out to be more fun than I expected! But you already knew that. Everyone did. The two kings of movie monsters had their rematch and this time it was with glorious Hollywood SFX powering it this time.

The human story was fun but it’s clear they stopped trying at this point. Team Kong stole my heart, especially Jia. Team Godzilla (although the Conspiracy Crew would be a more fitting term since they spend more time chasing down mysteries than trying to back or understand Godzilla) was more fun than I expected and their dynamic was surprisingly enjoyable. Bernie is actually kind of funny, it's nice to see Madison acting more assertive, and Josh was fine--he was the only sane man of the bunch but he was also the butt of the jokes. Still, all the hardcore conspiracy jokes got old fast and it feels off seeing the daughter of two scientists turn into an edgy conspiracy crackpot. Why not an edgy science major?

Team Apex are fun villains, especially Walter Simmons who's a great megalomaniacal CEO type, but Ren Serizawa is a joke. I like his actor's performance but he's just another footnote. Nobody bats an eye at his last name, although the only heroes he interacts with are Nathan Lind and he just misses Team Godzilla. He really could have just been any other villain, but instead, they had to sully Serizawa’s legacy further while robbing a good actor of some interesting material. (As is, it turns out he was just an egotistical jerk with daddy issues--an easy puzzle to solve on day one--after all...)

However, I still cannot and will not approve of the fact that somebody thought it would be a good idea to make the heroes of a sci-fi story into hardcore conspiracy theorists in this day and age. Likewise, I’m not a huge fan of how they essentially made the Hollow Earth into its own universe complete with a crazy portal and an environment with its own laws of physics, nor am I totally crazy about the huge leap in technology that was made between this and KOTM, or G’14 for that matter.

The monsters as awesome as they are, are the biggest mixed bag in the show.

Kong is at his best in ages, and while I am all for the new heroic warrior character that Legendary have crafted and I acknowledge that making him a worthy opponent for their god-tier Godzilla was going to be a hurdle, I think they did a splendid job. Seeing Kong using agility and acrobatics was a glorious sight to behold, and something about Kong becoming a tool-user and weapon wielder just feels right. It’s a far better demonstration of Kong as a “thinking animal” (*wink, wink*).

I’m much less thrilled about their treatment of his greatest opponent ever. After everything they’ve done to build up Godzilla as the incredible force of neutral good fighting to maintain balance and all the build up to ancient rivalry debating back to a great Titan war--even going as far as putting his name in front Kong’s this time!-- they’ve reduced Godzilla back to glorified bully for Kong. He only gets the minimum amount of sympathy from the cast of his movie before they go off to deal with the conspiracy plot or focus on Kong and the Hollow Earth. Worse still, he is somehow more powerful and more aggressive than ever for a good chunk of the movie which leads to an outcome I’m sorry to say we all saw coming. Somehow, I suspect that the reason behind this was how Wingard cited Godzilla vs. Mothra, vs. Destoryah, and Shin-Godzilla as influences for the monsters scale and story, which while cool and all, are all movies where he was played up as a mostly stoic antagonist rather than a three-dimensional character like Kong. (Though ironically vs. Destoroyah and Shin did a better job of making Godzilla feel more sympathetic and in both of them he was a walking nuclear reactor meltdown.)

Due to the unfortunate time constraints of the three-way deal between Toho, WB, and Universal at the time this was in production, Kong was unable to secure a proper sequel that could develop his skillset like Godzilla’s did. Nevermind the fact the filmmakers completely surrendered to the “nothing matters but the monsters” mentality that a chunk of the fanbase has been spouting since this universe unofficially kicked off almost 10 years ago. (Sidenote: Oh god, I’m turning in an old fart already.) As a result, the movie trips over itself trying to set up Godzilla and Kong’s rivalry as well as building up Kong as a worthy opponent to Godzilla while expanding on their shared lore, and as a result countless plot points set up in in the previous movie and tie-in movie are thrown out the window. I’m sorry to say but in spite of all hopes and illusions of grandeur, it’s safe to this damn thing is a Kong movie with Godzilla as the bad guy.

...at least until HE shows up. Yup, Mechagodzilla. The biggest spoiled twist of the centuries steals the show so the movie can pull a Dawn of Justice. But! It does it much better than the fractured DCEU’s most controversial entry ever could. Mechagodzilla’s inclusion gets a decent amount of build up thanks to Team Godzilla/the Conspiracy Crew, and when he shows up, does he make an impression! At first, I wasn’t sure how to feel about his inclusion or his design, but I’ve come to like this one. He’s basically a kaiju terminator built in Godzilla’s image made purely out of heavy machinery piloted by the best Ghidorah head. It’s a jarring change of pace compared to previous MechaG’s but it grows on you after a while. With the abundance of weaponry stuffed into him, he feels like a fitting update of the original killing machine, and even if his inclusion feels like an easy way out of the big showdown, it’s fun to see him played as a literal colossal heel for the kings to team up against. Not to mention he looks shockingly good with those red highlights. However, one still can’t help but wonder how and why he was made in this universe, or how he feels like pure heavy machinery one minute and then an extra-large Ultron unit the next.

As for the the big throwdowns we’ve all been waiting for... well, we’re still in the mixed bag deparment. While the fights are all exciting and excellently choreographed, and benefit from some more eclectic lighting and cinematograph, I’m sorry to say that as far as the rematch of the century goes they dropped the ball on this one.

Don’t get me wrong, the fights are all great in their own ways, but there’s a drastic change in the feeling of weight and power with the monsters. Godzilla, Kong, and even Mechagodzilla all feel strangely floaty in most of their fights. One moments they feel like true behemoths shaking the very earth with every movement and then it’s like they’re in Godzilla Unleashed, running, jumping, and throwing each other around with speed that feels that almost makes you wonder if the Hollow Earth’s gravity inversion stuff is leaking out into the world. While it’s all perfectly cool, you can’t help but wonder how Kong is able to leap between aircraft carriers and buildings, when Godzilla got the ability to blow a hole through the Earth itself, or how a colossal machine is able to move so nimbly or why it has to be flashing blue all the time.

It’s fascinating and fun but you just can’t help but wonder how we got from almost posthuman disaster and war movies exploring how we’re at the mercy of the ancient almost mythical forces beyond our comprehension, we’ve found ourselves smack dab in the middle of Bayformers meets Jurassic World levels of Hollywood absurdity where anything and everything can and will happen in the name of getting to the monster fights. Although I can’t say I’m surprised given the director’s take on Death Note made some questionable choices with it’s take on the infamous cast while still coming up with some genuinely inspired choices. Still, all things considered we could have gotten worse compared to ther cinematic universes made by WB and Universal.

As for some misc. thoughts to close up this rambling mess:

-The soundtrack is fantastic. A great continuation of the feel of Skull Island’s mixtape with some truly wonderful picks. Special mention goes to the opening and ending songs, and they GOT AN ELVIS PRESLEY SONG IN HERE! YES!!! The three kings of pop culture together at last!

-While this movie didn’t need to be any more overstuffed, it would have been nice if the rest of the Titans didn’t disappear entirely from this movie. I get that Godzilla: Dominion already explained what happened to them all more or less, but it really is a missed oppurtunity that we never got to see another Titan war. Or Rodan attacking Kong to avenge his pterosaur bretheren from days long past. Speaking of which...

-“Save Mothra” jokes be damned, Mothra would have been a welcome gues star, not just to help break up the big fight, but to show off Godzilla’s softer, more protective side. And yes, I want more Mothzilla. Shut up, we deserve it.

-Boy, Monarch sure does a whole lot of nothing up-top, huh?

-The cinematography is a great update but there’s a little too much neon lighting, especially in the Apex HQ and the Hollow Earth throne room. It feels like they’re trying just a little too hard to sell the more futuristic, Hollywood sci-fi feel.

-The score is... great but not that great. Of course, I’ve always had mixed feelings about Tom Holkenburg (AKA Junkie XL)’s music. I liked Kong’s themes, but they REALLY dropped the ball with Godzilla’s theme. Mechagodzilla’s works really well as long you ignore that it’s just Godzilla’s theme in this movie with an ominious choir added in.

-The new Hollow Earth creatures are all perfectly fine. Actually, I thought they were another highlight! Especially the Warbats, Hellhawks, and Doug the Titanus Foetodon Man.

-I want to do a release the extended cut campaign but I don’t think any of us have the energy for that s**t anymore.

[morallygreyprompts]

Hiii!! I was just wondering if you could do some sidekick whump pwease 🥺👉🏽👈🏽

Of course!! I hope you like this :) I didn’t know which Sidekick you wanted whumped, so they both suffered ^^’

Be careful if you’re claustrophobic. I don’t go into great detail, but still.

The two sidekicks were fighting with everything they had. Hero’s Sidekick was using their two knives against Villain’s Sidekicks one, but VSidekick had the greater skill and was able to hold their own. Hero and Villain were fighting ina separate part of the building, well out of range. There was no one to intervene with this fight and they were both stacking up injuries. It was getting unbearable. VSidekick was struggling, but they had to keep stalling. They tried not to hurt HSidekick too much. They didn’t want to kill them, but they weren’t sure HSidekick was feeling that level of restraint too.

All they had to do was keep stalling. They sent a powerful front kick straight into H’Sidekick’s ribs, and they were quite sure they felt something give as HSidekick was hurled across the room.

“I don’t want to hurt you,” VSidekick panted. “Please, just stop.” “No!” HSidekick snapped despite their pain. They tried to force themselves up, but VSidekick quickly pinned them down, panting heavily. They tried to position themselves so that they wouldn’t bleed on HSidekick’s open wounds.

HSidekick couldn’t get up, but they didn’t get the chance to get creative.

There was a sudden explosion, somewhere above them, which made them both startle. “What was that?” they asked at the same time, louder than necessary having being deafened by the blast. A grumble followed as if they were inches away from a thunderstorm. VSidekick saw a table they could hide under, but instead, they rushed to get on all fours in a bid to shield HSidekick as rubble began to collapse upon them.

HSidekick screamed, then there was nothing.

_____

There was no sign of either sidekick. Hero and Villain had been searching desperately for the last ten minutes. Hero was glad Villain had agreed to put the fight on hold until they knew their sidekicks were safe. They’d been down there… somewhere? Hero had no idea where to start looking. Villain seemed just as concerned and just as puzzled.

“This way,” they mumbled. “How do you know?” Hero asked. “Tracker,” Villain answered hesitantly. They kept glancing down to the watch on the wrist.

Neither of them was happy when they realised the tracker stopped on a pile of rubble. “[HSidekick]?!” “[VSidekick]?! Talk to me, buddy!”

For a terrifying moment, there was nothing, until finally there was a weak groan. “Keep trying!” Villain called out, as they carefully began to climb over the rubble. The person started to cough, which was a louder noise.

Hero was able to pounce on the noise and quickly started digging. Villain helped them carefully ease massive chunks of rubble away. “[VSidekick]!” Villain cried. They kept digging, not caring for how they cut up their hands. Once the thick of the debris was off, Villain called their henchmen on their wristwatch.

“Get me some medics, ASAP. [VSidekick]’s been trapped in rubble, probably worse. I think [HSidekick] has too.” “Do you want two ambulances, boss?” “Yes. We’re calling it a truce for now.”

Henchman hung up and watched as Hero checked over VSidekick. They couldn’t move them just yet. “[Hero]?” HSidekick croaked. “U.under here.” “Are you okay?!” Hero exclaimed “I… don’t know.”

Villain inched closer. “We’re going to help you, but we can’t move [VSidekick]. Can you hold on?” HSidekick nodded weakly.

“Try not to worry. We’re going to do what we can. Can you try to wake [VSidekick] up?” Villain asked. “They were awake, but they’re bleeding pretty bad. They fainted. T.they were scared.” Villain carefully touched the shoulder, trying to get them to wake up. It took a few attempts until they got a groan. Villain felt their sidekick tense under their touch.

 “Just me. “I’m here. Can you move your fingers and toes? Your back okay?” They nodded weakly. “I. I’ll be fine. Just t.tired...”

They tried to get onto all fours, but Villain had to help them. It revealed HSidekick underneath, protected from most of the damage. Villain cradled VSidekick in their arms for a moment, just trying to reassure them. “I’ve got you. Easy...” Villain lay them down so they could help stop the bleeding. Hero helped their Sidekick out and did the same. There was just so much blood everywhere between them both.

HSidekick tried to focus and look in VSidekick’s direction. “You… you shielded me.” VSidekick waved it off as best they could. Hero sent them both a suspicious look, but Villain didn’t acknowledge it.

That was how Villaoin’s men found them. Hero and Villain doing their best to save their own until the medics got there. Villain stepped back before Hero did. “You can trust them,” Villain promised. “They’re some of the best.”

The henchmen rushed the two sidekicks away as soon as they could. Hero sat down, exhausted. “You okay?” Villain asked. When Hero almost fell to the side, Villain had to grab them to steady them. “I’ll take that as a no. Come on, you can come with me. I really wore you down.”

Hero didn’t have much choice but to allow Villain to guide them away.

-----

Villain’s Sidekick couldn’t remember waking up, they just seemed to become aware of the pain that ebbed across their body. They mewled and tried to sit up, only to feel hands gently holding them. “Stay still, buddy.” VSidekick’s ears pricked up. That was Villain.

Villain hushed them as they whimpered. “I know, I know. The painkillers are still kicking in. Lie still, it’ll work. You haven’t been an easy fix this time.” VSidekick carefully opened their eyes, which still stung with the dust.

They didn’t expect to see Hero or HSidekick there with them, HSidekick looked mostly okay, save for their arm being in a sling and a dressing on their forehead.

HSidekick smiled softly. “Thank you, for saving me. You took so many injuries for me- and I’d already hurt you.” VSidekick shrugged it off, a movement they immediately regretted, but the pain relief was slowly kicking in. “It was nothing.”

Villain put a hand on their forehead and VSidekick leaned into their touch, allowing Villain to give them comforting touches. “You did good, buddy,” they soothed. “Here, you should drink.” Villain helped them to hold the cup of water. It was such a relief for their dry, cracked throat.VSidekick shivered despite themselves, and Villain decided to climb onto the bed and hold onto them.

“We’ll be taking our leave now,” Hero said. “I’m glad to see you’re looking better, [VSidekick], and thank you again.” Hero went to the door first. HSidekick gave VSidekick a long but warm, almost loving smile before they also limped out and quietly closed the door.

Alone at last, they were able to snuggle against Villain and try to find some comfort. Villain hushed them gently as a way of calming them. They knew VSidekick would be shaken badly by the ordeal. They could tell by the way they held onto Villain with no embarrassment. “You can go to sleep. I’ll be right here. Our mission was a success, but I’m just glad that both of you are safe, you especially. Is that medicine kicking in?” VSidekick nodded sleepily. Villain nodded and stroked their hair until they dozed off. “You did good, buddy,” they whispered.

Like my stuff and want to support what I do? Then maybe consider buying me a Kofi? Ko-fi.com/morallygrey

[titusmoody]

It’s the end of the first quarter of 2021. Here’s a brief review of the things I watched/played/read.

Games

Donut County- pretty charming, very easy, fairly satisfying to play. I’d recommend Untitled Goose Game over this, though.

Heaven’s Vault- If you only have room in your life for one space archaeology game, play Outer Wilds instead. However, you get to translate alien writings yourself (in a simplified game way) in this one, so I’d recommend both. 

Donkey Kong Country 3 103%- so many fun level mechanics in this one. The difficulty of finding and completing everything in the game was spot-on for me.

Donkey Kong Country 2 102%- Each level mechanic in this one is explored and used in far more interesting ways than DKC3, though I honestly had more fun with 3 this time around. This one is the “dark, edgy” one aesthetically which is extremely dumb. Also, there was a lot of guesswork involved in finding some of the hidden stuff, which I didn’t enjoy.

The Room 4- I like escape room games. This one was good. It continued 3′s trend of trying to shake up the format a little, which is fine (better here than in 3, I think) but I wouldn’t have minded if all 4 stayed exactly the same, just with new puzzles.

Spider-Man: Miles Morales- Everything about it was competent. Not only was each gameplay activity fine-tuned to feel good, but the structure of the game also kept kept you experiencing a good variety of each activity. PS5 graphics are good, too. Nothing about it really got me excited to play it, it was just a good after work unwinding thing.

Cyberpunk 2077- Exactly the opposite of Spider-Man in terms of quality consistency. There are aspects of this game that are amazing, horrible, and every step in between. However, I’ve thought about it quite a bit and will probably continue to think about it for both good and bad reasons.

Yooka-Laylee and the Impossible Lair- Donkey Kong Country has better level design and controls. Well, the best levels of this were every bit as good as the best DKC levels, and maybe I’m just so familiar with DKC levels that I zone out a little during the boring bits, but had to pay attention to every moment of this game. Still, I didn’t have as much of an overall good time as the DKC games I played earlier.

Hue- Good 2D puzzle-platformer. I’m no longer surprised by these, but I still appreciate them, much in the same way as I like playing escape room games. I was under the impression for a few years that because I understood the potential of puzzle platformers, it meant I wouldn’t want to play any more of them, but that’s simply not true. I had a good time with Hue.

Shows

Gravity Falls- It’s fine. Pretty entertaining. I wish there were more low-stakes kinds of episodes, just to get more familiar with different sides of the characters. It would have made the characters and setting feel more rounded.

Cowboy Bepop- I didn’t get the hype for this show when I first watched it at 21, and now I can say that it’s simply not my kind of show. I have much more appreciation for it now than I did the first time, but it doesn’t hit me emotionally the same way that it seems to hit so many people. 

Seinfeld- It’s Seinfeld. There was precisely one episode that I had never seen before, plus confirmation that I didn’t dream the episode that’s told in backwards chunks like Memento and is set in India.

Paranoia Agent- While it was disappointing that this ended up being a more simple morality tale than every Satoshi Kon movie I’ve seen, I still enjoyed watching this a lot.

Aggretsuko- I liked the mundane, every-day storylines like a modern, more empathetic Seinfeld. Unfortunately as the show went on, there were more and more wacky situations that no one actually gets into. I might watch the upcoming season if I hear that it’s less ridiculous.

Over the Garden Wall- This was really cool and I’m glad it exists. It’s ten episodes long, which is perfect for it. I thought it was at its weakest during the more lighthearted or humorous moments--precisely the opposite of Gravity Falls. The word “classy” comes to mind to describe this show. 

Beastars- Really good when it isn’t falling into anime plot and dialog cliches. A lot of this first season is dedicated to introducing characters and the setting, which I thought was very well done. I’m curious to see what Season 2 is like.

Movies

Scott Pilgrim vs the World- It’s a fun movie to watch. It definitely makes many of the characters’ flaws seem like more fun than it probably should, but I’m more bothered by the criticism I hear that boils down to “it’s a bad movie because the characters are bad people” which I suspect is an impression you only get if you lack both empathy and media comprehension.

Big- Kinda bad. It has iconic moments that are only possible with its weird premise, but it’s just not a premise that supports an entire good movie. 

Phantom of the Opera- Way better and way worse than I remember. Has the precise right amount of horses.

Knives Out- Not really a movie I needed to watch a second time, but it sure is good.

District 9- I didn’t remember most of this movie and unfortunately I zoned out for most of this rewatch, so I still feel like I don’t know what it’s about.

From up on Poppy Hill- Not one of the top tier Ghibli movies, but still really good in a down-to-earth way that I like from Ghibli. 

Enter the Dragon- I knew to expect everything to be turned up to 11, which is good because it really is a lot. I liked it, though.

Shutter Island- I have never actually liked this kind of twist-reliant movie. I thought I would for many years, but I was always disappointed. At least now I am aware that it’s not what I’m into.

Soul- The premise is much too convoluted, but it does have an excellent moment near the end.

Onward- I liked this one a lot. Why don’t more people talk about this one? It’s definitely better than Coco, which itself was really good.

A Silent Voice- The kind of movie that reminds me that sometimes Japanese storytelling is more to my taste than Hollywood style, in that scenes can be more emotionally ambiguous. 

Tangled- Good in exactly the same way as Frozen and Moana. I can’t really complain, but this isn’t the same situation as puzzle platformers or escape rooms. In this case, I do get a little sick of being completely unsurprised. This movie was made first, so it’s only by chance that this is the one that I saw last.

Monsters University- A good movie, but it really doesn’t have to be about the same characters as Monsters Inc. 

Monty Python and the Holy Grail- Still funny

The Departed- Good if you want an enjoyable crime thriller to watch, bad if you want a Scorcese movie.

Titanic- Getting very drunk and watching this with Brittany might be the best time I had in the past three months. Maybe I won’t think too hard about why a movie about the overdue, violent death of a social order resonates with me right now.

Prince of Egypt- Impressive and grand, but I didn’t really care about the characters or story.

Star Trek II: The Wrath of Khan- A good but not great (by TNG standards) concept for an episode that was made extremely enjoyable by the added budget and longer runtime of a movie.

Star Trek III: The Search for Spock- Not as good, but still watchable.

Star Trek IV: The Voyage Home- The kind of ridiculous concept you’d only make when you’ve already had three successful movies and are confident that you’ll be able to make at least another couple. The gang go back to the 1980s (present day to the original audience) and save the whales. It’s apparently exactly the right movie to watch if this is the third consecutive Star Trek movie you’re watching.

Mamma Mia- A lot of fun, but has weird problems that seem like they would’ve been easy to solve at the script level. Maybe if the conflicts had been introduced early on instead of dragging the whole pace of the movie down for much of the last 20 minutes, I would’ve enjoyed the whole thing.

Books

The Well of Ascension- The second book of a trilogy. Very competent. Introduces a whole lot of minor conflicts that really keep the momentum going and give the characters short-term goals that contribute to the overall plot and their arcs. 

The Hero of Ages- The final book in the same trilogy. Equally competent. I wish there had been more long-term payoffs, which is the trade-off you make by stuffing the books full of those short-term conflicts. Spoilers ahead, but not ones that I think ruin the experience of reading. It’s very odd that of three of the central characters, one dies, one becomes a god and then dies, and one becomes God. 

Check Please- About as pleasant as it gets. Full of the type of minor character that sitcoms end up running into the ground because they’re too one-note (Creed from The Office, for instance) but in a series with a pre-planned length, there’s no chance for it to get stale. Plus, I really liked both of the lead characters.

Milkman- Good book about “The Troubles” in Ireland. Very odd collection of characters, but the narrator had an extremely enjoyable voice to read. 

And Then There Were None- Classic mystery story for a reason. Feels more like a Hitchcock movie than Sherlock Holmes. I read it in one day both because the prose was easy and I wanted to know what happened next. Not much substance to it, unfortunately.

Homegoing- Extremely ambitous book where each chapter is narrated by the descendant of a previous chapter, alternating between two branches of the same family. I liked it quite a bit, though because I only finished it yesterday I don’t have much reflection done yet so my opinion has yet to solidify.

[choupichoups]

Northern Lights [ 1/1 ]

On the down side, the boys get snowed in at some isolated cabin in the woods.

On the plus side, there’s a ring hidden somewhere in area.

Or: I saw this post at 1 in the morning and couldn’t sleep until I churned this out I’m sorry I’m rusty and good morning have a good Wednesday bye bye

–

Travel halfway across the world, they say.

It’ll be fun, they say. 

Lucas paces the length of the cabin floor, socked feet pit pattering in dull thuds as the little fireplace crackles in tandem with his movements. Eliott, bless his ever so chill heart, is sprawled all over the couch as if all is right in their world. 

“Eli,” Lucas mumbles, managing to reel in his stress for the entire two seconds it takes for his boyfriend to look up from the Hannah Montana puzzle he’s been poring over for hours. Eliott raises an eyebrow, soft sweater bunching up as he shifts, softer hair tumbling over his forehead when he stands. Lucas blinks away the distraction, frowning with all his might when Eliott has the gall to laugh in the face of his distress, warm arms wrapping around him to appease. 

And don’t get him wrong, Lucas is still annoyed, but it’s so fucking cold he’s convinced he might as well be cyrofrozen if he spends one more minute out of Eliott’s arms. Honestly, fuck Canadian winter. Why did they choose to fly here when everyone else is trying their darned best to run away from it?

“It’ll be fine, Lu. It’s just a little delay.” Eliott rubs his back, soothing hands running up and down the fabric of his sweater. Lucas slumps further into the embrace but refuses to give up his sulky muttering. 

“We’re only here for four days,” he says, muffled into Eliott’s collar. 

“That’s plenty of time.” Eliott laughs into his hair, no hint of concern in his voice. Lucas huffs, unable to believe that his boyfriend is seriously not bothered by any of this.

Must be nice. 

Anyway, he’s still stressed out. 

“We’re snowed in, dude,” he intones with emphasis, digging a cold nose into Eliott’s collarbone until he hears a ticklish squeak. He has to told back a smile as he continues with a deadpan, “And our friends are stranded in some airport in another province.”

“They’ll be here tomorrow,” Eliott mumbles into his hair, arms tightening as he starts walking them back towards the couch. “And then you’ll wish they’re still stranded back at the airport instead.”

And, well, he’s got a point there. 

“But we can’t get out,” he groans stubbornly, flopping down when Eliott drags the both of them down to sit. Lucas hangs onto his waist, refusing to unglue himself from Eliott’s side. Luckily enough, the notion is reciprocated so Eliott merely tucks him in closer and presses a kiss to his forehead. 

“I know,” Eliott says, and Lucas can feel a small huff of air above him as Eliott laughs. “Isn’t it romantic?”

Romantic my ass.

“Have you seen The Strangers?” Lucas retorts, indignant when he feels Eliott start to tremble with laughter below him. He punches Eliott’s chest in retaliation but it only seems to invoke even more laughter. “Eden Lake? Stop— stop laughing Eli— Backcountry? You don’t— hey, I’m serious!” Lucas personally thinks this is no laughing matter.

“Baby, what the fuck?” Eliott wheezes out.

Lucas is increasingly desperate over here. “Cabin in the Woods?!”

Eliott has to physically cover Lucas’ mouth to shut him up. “I think someone’s been watching too many shitty films, hm?”

Lucas licks at the palm obstructing his face, earning himself a squawk from his infuriating boyfriend. “Yeah, you.”

“Ouch.”

Lucas slumps back down with a sigh, looking up at the ceiling. At least the fireplace is working. And the Wifi is spotty but still there. Oh and the lights. Lucas thinks he’d go apeshit if the storm messes with the electricity. 

A hand reaches over and pets at the back of his head, Lucas relaxing into the touch despite the thoughts running rampant in his mind. 

“It’ll be fine,” Eliott repeats, shuffling closer to kiss him lightly, effectively ending his subconscious gnawing at his lips. “Trust me, okay? No serial killer or demon or wild animal will touch you, they’ll have to kill me first to get to you.”

Lucas tears up. Like a moron. “Stop, that doesn’t make me feel better.” 

Eliott smiles, reaching over to wipe at the tears that haven’t even had the chance to fall. “Sorry, but seriously. I already contacted the airbnb host, they’ll arrive with a crew tomorrow when the storm lets up. They’ll dig us out.” 

“Okay,” he mouths inaudibly, eyes honing in on the stupid puzzle Eliott had been working on earlier. He’s only missing a few more pieces. “Have Yann and them responded yet?” 

Eliott feels around for his phone, pulling it out from under one of the couch cushions like he’d seen it fall into the abyss and had simply not done anything about it until now. Lucas can practically taste the warm fondness bubbling up his chest. Like a moron. “Yeah, they’ve been put up in a hotel and they fly here tomorrow morning.” 

“Okay,” he says again, thankful that he’s with Eliott through dealing with this. Had he been alone, he simply would’ve ran around like a chicken with its head cut off, accomplishing absolutely nothing. Like a moron. 

He might be freshly graduated from his master's program by now but you better bet his panic still knows no bounds. Speaking of, the actual ‘Yay! I'm Temporarily Free From Hell!’ celebration trip they’d planned for isn’t until a few days later— they’re supposed to fly down at a ski resort with, you know, civilization around them rather than being isolated in some remote winter wonderland. But Lucas is now questioning whether they’d be able to leave on time, or if they’d lose a whole chunk of money for missing the first few days of their reservation at the resort, assuming this damned storm would cause more delays for their flight.

They’ve only made a detour to Yukon to see the northern lights anyway. This is all Yann’s and Eliott’s fault, they’re the ones so insistent on seeing aurora borealis for the aesthetic—

“The weather should be good for the next couple of days so our flight out of here won’t have any problems,” Eliott says, now a mind reader apparently. Lucas’ shoulders relax further. 

Man, he needs a drink. Too bad their fridge only houses five bottles of sparkling water. Filthy Canadians. 

“What time’s the check in at the resort again?” Lucas asks, eyeing his own phone which he’d left by the kitchen counter. He’s way too cosy to get up and retrieve it. 

“Uh,” Eliott scrolls through his phone, brows furrowing. The pause lasts a little too long and Lucas looks over, watching Eliott’s blank confusion morph slowly into impatience. 

“Should be in the confirmation email, no?”

“Yeah, I’m trying to look for it.”

“Why do you have so many fucking emails?”

“I’m a real adult now, Lucas, all we do is send emails.” 

Lucas cackles, throwing his legs over Eliott’s thigh as he truly relaxes for the first time since landing in the foreign country. He curls over to prop his head atop Eliott’s shoulder as he holds a hand out for the phone. “Here, let me look.” 

He exits out of the folder Eliott has somehow landed himself into to search the entire inbox, typing in ‘confirmation’ into the search box— Eliott isn’t too keen on online shopping so there shouldn’t be much to go through there. 

Idly, Lucas scrolls, careful not to miss anything.

Order #45632 has been placed — Tealyra

Your order has been placed successfully.

Confirmation for Commission — M. Baudelaire

Thank you for the invoice. Looking forward to working with you on…

Contract Confirmation — F.S Studio

Please read over the attached files and sign…

Appointment Confirmation — Galeries du Diamant

See our 3 step process for hand crafted custom engagement rings…

Lucas blinks, thumb stuttering as it hovers over the email. Beside him, Eliott stops breathing. 

He keeps scrolling.

Trip Confirmation — SkiBig3

You’re going on a trip! Please read over the details to… 

“There.” Lucas hands the phone back over, allowing Eliott to read through the email himself. Eliott does so, but not before emitting a gigantic exhale. 

Lucas stretches over his head to grab the Rubik’s cube on the shelf, studiously beginning to solve it. They stew in the satisfying crick cracking of the cube before Eliott breaks the silence. 

“We don’t check in until the afternoon.” He zooms in on the phone screen as if to make doubly sure. “Our plane arrives in the morning so we should have plenty of time.” 

Lucas hums a noncommittal sound, working on shuffling the blue side into place. Eliott opens up his chats and the two of them descend into comfortable silence as they set about conducting their own business. 

He wasn’t going to mention it— he really wasn’t. But it’s Eliott who starts, so Lucas can’t be blamed for finally poking at the pink elephant in the room. 

Eliott’s chest starts shaking at odd intervals, and Lucas can only ignore so much of his strange little wheezing before he’s looking up at his boyfriend, bottom lip trapped in between his teeth, only to see a red-faced Eliott with his lips pressed tight together and his eyes shining with poorly concealed mirth. He’s already staring right at Lucas.

The dam breaks right then and there. 

Lucas lets out the ugliest snort known to mankind and Eliott’s tamed giggling quickly evolves into tear inducing laughter. Eliott has to lean back against the head of the couch to avoid meeting Lucas’ eyes and Lucas shoves his face into Eliott’s shoulder, muffling his own deranged laughter. 

“Why are we laughing?” Eliott struggles in between gasps, barely able to speak past his wide smile. 

“I don’t know!” Lucas manages to stumble out before dissolving into another fit of giggles. 

Eliott sniffs, helplessly wiping at his eyes. “You do know, fuck.” His breathing is laboured, and the way he stares up at the ceiling resembles that of a man who’s questioning his life choices. “Stop laughing.” He pulls at the ends of Lucas’ hair lightly. 

“You stop laughing.” Lucas pinches him on the side and Eliott wiggles away in protest.

They quiet down.

But then their eyes meet and they’re breathless all over again. 

–

Later, Lucas slides down to the floor, legs criss-crossed as he finds himself face to face, yet again, with the jarring colours of the Hannah Montana puzzle on the table. He starts picking at the remaining pieces, laughter tapering off into a grin as Eliott drops down to join him. 

“So… is it here?” Lucas asks, eyes bright, seeing no use in pretending he’s not dying over the fact that an actual engagement ring exists in this universe, just for him. 

Eliott’s smile is soft when he looks up from the puzzle, one hand lifting to brush Lucas’ unruly hair away from his face. 

“Okay,” Lucas continues, teasing. “I’ll take that as a yes.” 

That gets him a blinding grin, Eliott’s eyes scrunching into half moons as he chuckles out a quiet, “Stop.” 

“Why?” Lucas whines out, using his feet to worm closer into Eliott’s space. “Can I see?”

And alright, maybe he deserves that judgemental look. 

He settles down for a blessed moment of silence before his tiny bird brain reminds him that there is, in fact, a ring (a ring!) for him somewhere in the vicinity and he could be wearing it right now but his boyfriend is playing. 

“Can we play that hot or cold game?” He drapes himself over Eliott and digs his chin into Eliott’s shoulder to be extra annoying. 

“Fuck no.” The exasperation rolling off of Eliott is almost tangible. 

“Please.” 

“No.”

“Just three tries per day?”

“No.” 

“Once per day?”

“No."

“That’s a lot of no’s coming from someone who wants me to say yes.”

“Oh my god, Lu, shut up.” 

—

The rest of the boys arrive the next day, and Yann is rightfully confused when he sees Lucas staring down at the pot of boiling spaghetti sauce in the kitchen as he asks Eliott ‘hot or cold?’ in the most pitiful of tones. 

Who the fuck wants cold spaghetti?

Eliott coos at him, leaning down for a kiss, and Yann walks away, not stopping until he reaches the backdoor to stare at the deer sneakily tiptoeing around the backyard.

—

On the third day, Basile almost dies of a heart attack when Lucas pops out from below Basile’s bed and cups a hand around his mouth to project a questioning ‘hot or cold?’ towards Eliott, who’s reading a book on his own bed like a normal human being. 

Eliott answers with a very pointed flip to the next page. 

Basile kicks at Lucas’ leg until he gets rid of the gremlin under his bed.

—

On their last night at the cabin, the boys take the portable heaters outside and lay out mountains of blankets in the backyard to watch the northern lights. 

Arthur bundles tighter into his own pile of blankets as he settles down beside Yann and Basile. Lucas and Eliott are a little farther off, Eliott claiming he needs a better photographic view of the lights and Lucas following after him with one of the mini heaters to protect his art hoe of a boyfriend from hypothermia. 

He keeps one ear on the hushed conversation between Yann and Basile and the other absently open to the curious shenanigans their local lovebirds are up to. 

Dusting off the little bit of the snow that collects over the blankets from all his shifting, Arthur looks up when the sky gradually illuminates, but the lights are not what has him choking on a gasp. Clumsy fingers reach up to straighten the glasses perched on his nose more out of habit than necessity as he gapes at the sight unfurling only a short distance ahead. 

“Holy shit.” He flails out a hand, blindly batting at the general direction of Yann and Basile, unwilling to look away in case he misses the big moment. “Holy shit!” 

–

Eliott is sweating. 

Which is utterly dramatic of him, to be honest. Because he knows, he should know, that there’s only one answer to the question he wants to ask. 

Lucas hadn’t been very subtle the past few days. 

But still, Eliott is sweating. 

Lucas is standing in front of him, ethereal under the aurora, eyes the texture of glass, the colour of the deepest ocean. His lips part soundlessly, long lashes fluttering against the light snow falling from the tree above. There’s a perfectly formed snowball in his gloved hands, clutched tightly against his chest as he admires the view above. 

Preoccupied with the phenomena in the sky, Lucas doesn’t move even after Eliott’s camera clicks once, twice, three times. Eliott would be tempted to raise the lens, look at the sky through the viewfinder, if only the beauty before him wasn’t so all encompassing.

“You haven’t asked yet,” he says, quiet, so as to not startle Lucas. But Lucas startles anyway, as if shaking himself out of a trance. Eliott is endlessly endeared. 

“Huh?” Lucas blinks back at him.

“You haven’t asked today,” he answers vaguely, knowing his boyfriend is too clever to miss the implication.

Sure enough, Lucas rolls his eyes, the blues ever shifting in the moving lights. Eliott wants to capture this sight, wants to capture it all, and he greedily takes it in, every movement and every sound. It plays like a movie in his head, much like a lot of moments in his life, except this one’s something nobody’s ever seen— it’s one he can’t wait to begin. 

Letting go of his camera, Eliott moves to fit his hands inside his jacket pockets. 

“Hot or cold?” Lucas asks, jokingly, giddily, clearly expecting another dismissal.

But Eliott smiles, heart in his throat, and answers, “Warm.”

[lupinlongbottom]

Ordeals

Charlie Weasley x Legilimens!Reader

Summary: (Y/N) has a hard time sleeping after the war, good thing her husband is there when she wakes up.

Prompt: A lovely request from @cutie-bug (that took WAY too long to get out of my head, I’m so sorry!)

Word Count: 1.6k

Warnings: none

A/N: uh. hey. i’m back. whoops. sorry for the hiatus. i’m trying to get back into writing, but it’s been increasingly hard for me of late. in the meantime, however, enjoy a lovely fic with our fave dragon boi.

__

A sliver of light filtered through the moss colored curtains, shining directly onto the dark covers of the bed beneath. The sheets rose and fell with the deep slumber of the redheaded man resting under, gently lifting momentarily to fall back down. The morning had barely begun, the sun only recently rising, but that had left no impact on the other owner of the bed.

(Y/N) had been sitting upright, head in her hands, for at least an hour before the sun rose. The war may have ended nearly a year ago, but the nightmares never ceased to end. It was easy to rationalize that the fighting and bloodshed had ended when she had woken, but the sleepless slumbers left her no deliberate way to understand the reality. It had become a habit to live off three to four hour nights of interrupted sleep.  

A sputtering cough came from (Y/N)’s left side, her head turning ever so slightly towards the sound. Charlie usually had woken up by now, but yesterday had been a long day at the dragon sanctuary, loads of new eggs had finally hatched and were in need of constant supervision. Voldemort and his Death Eaters had come into owning a few dragons, neglecting their basic needs as creatures and using them for their own selfish purposes. Charlie was chosen to lead the rehabilitation of the few dragons rescued, leading to late nights and early mornings.

“(Y/N)?” Charlie muttered, voice thick with sleep. A chunk of his red locks fell in front of his freckled face, forcing the half-asleep man to push them back into place.

What’s wrong?

“I’m fine,” (Y/N) responded curtly, as she had every morning.

Doesn’t seem like it.

“No, really. I’m really fine.” She rose her hand up in protest, glancing away. The small gemstone from her ring caught the ray of light, sending a glittering shimmer to her eye. 

“Stop reading my mind, love,” Charlie yawned, pulling his arms above the sheets, stretching them out for the day. “And before you say anything, I know it’s stronger when you wake up, but you and I both know you’ve been awake longer than you’d care to admit.” 

(Y/N) sat in a stunned silence. Of course her husband could see through her possible excuses, he had been doing so since the war ended. A soft echo of Charlie’s voice rang through her head.

How long?

“I’ve only been awake for an hour or so. I’ve tried to fall back asleep but nothing worked—not even counting dragons.” (Y/N) chuckled airily.

“What was it this time?” Charlie had fully sat up, parallel to his wife. His white pajama shirt was bunched and twisted up from his sleep.

“The usual,” (Y/N) groaned. “We were back at Hogwarts, fighting some Death Eaters,”

I bet I looked great.

“You did look pretty great, like usual,” (Y/N) responded, elbowing Charlie slightly. He smiled lightly. “But this time, you didn’t dodge. The spell… it hit you.” The sound barely leaving her lips.

“But I’m still here,” Charlie gently rested his hand under (Y/N)’s chin, cupping her cheek. “I’m always still here.” 

“I know,” Her head softly pushed into his grip. “But if I lost you, I don’t know what I would’ve done. Merlin, what would I have told your mother? She would have lost two sons in one day and—”

“But she didn’t,” Charlie said, tone sharp. “Fred is gone, that can’t ever change,” A deep sigh. “But I’m still here, see?” His hand enveloped (Y/N)’s, circling the back of it with his thumb. “You still feel me, right?”

(Y/N) nodded. “I just wish they would stop.”

“I know.”

The two sat in silence, the familiar pacing of their breathing settling both of their worried hearts.

“Your hands are always so cold in the morning,” (Y/N) spoke up, slowly pulling her hand away from Charlie’s icy one. “I still think you should wear a pair of mittens while you sleep.”

“Once you learn to knit, then I’ll consider it,” Charlie laughed, his fingers tracing over his other knuckles, twisting his wedding band. “Besides, you’re always there in the morning to warm them up.” A peck landed squarely on (Y/N)’s temple, soft and wet.

“Gross.” 

“Can’t a man appreciate his furnace of a wife?” Charlie asked, voice slightly hurt. (Y/N) rolled her eyes before kicking one leg off the side of the bed, her second soon to follow. “Wait, love—”

“I’m not in the mood, Charlie. Deal with it yourself, you have two—rather cold—hands. I put more tissues in your nightstand if you really need to—”

“Who’s the gross one now?” Charlie said, gripping onto (Y/N)’s sleep shirt, preventing her escape. “As much as I appreciate your extremely polite decline, that’s not why I was stopping you.”

“Wouldn’t have been the first time,” (Y/N) shrugged, kicking her leg back onto the bed. “Not that I usually complain.”

“Neither do I,” Charlie laughed, the sound bouncing off their small bedroom walls. “As much fun as that would be, that’s not what you need right now.”

“What I need?” (Y/N) questioned, resettling back into the nest that laid before her.

“What you need, indeed.” Charlie repeated. “Quite clearly you’re need of some good, old fashioned, Weasley cuddles.”

“Charlie, you know I want to—”

“Shush!” Charlie hissed, patting the sheets closer to his open arm. “Come on, in you go.”

(Y/N) rolled her eyes, a small smile breaking onto her lips. She nuzzled her way into her husbands side, fitting like a missing puzzle piece.

Smells good.

A wider smile tugged at the corners of (Y/N)’s mouth, hiding her happiness in her husband’s chest.

“You know,” Charlie hummed, fingers weaving through (Y/N)’s hair. “No matter where we are in the world, as long as I can have you in my arms like this—just like this—it feels like home.”

“There you go again,” (Y/N) sputtered, blush creeping up her neck. “Saying everything that’s on your mind like it’s nothing.”

Charlie chuckled. “A habit I picked up from courting you, love. You’d be able to read my mind anyway, might as well beat you to the punch, no?” He angled his head down, eyebrow teasing his hairline.

“It’s fun to read your mind,” (Y/N) spoke honestly, weaving her hand under the blanket to rest on Charlie’s thigh. “You know I try not to do it often, but it can’t be helped.” She shrugs, fully resting into Charlie’s side. “Besides, I like your honest reactions.”

“Reactions? To what—” It was in that moment that (Y/N)’s hand began gently moving up and down his thigh.

Merlin…

“To that, my dear husband.” (Y/N) chuckled, stopping all movements entirely. “Those are the reactions I live for.”

“I thought you weren’t in the mood?” Charlie mused, clearly enjoying the game his wife was playing.

“Oh, I’m not,” (Y/N) smiled, removing her hand to her side, leaving a small peck on Charlie’s jaw. “But it’s fun to tease. Your face—”

“—color matches my hair,” Charlie rolled his eyes. “Yeah. I think I’ve heard that one before.”

Only a thousand times

“A thousand and one, then.” (Y/N) laughed, peppering more kisses along her husband’s jaw. The soft smacking sounds echoed through the room, filling the empty space with love. With one swift motion, Charlie angled his head towards his wife’s attentive lips, capturing the delicate two between his own.

“You know,” Charlie began. Another kiss. “I have to be at work in an hour.” 

(Y/N) groaned, running her hand down Charlie’s chest. “I know,” she breathed, patting his chest lightly. “Those dragons can’t do anything without their dad, huh?”

Charlie’s chest rose with laughter. “Yeah, except maybe burn down a village or two.” He snuggled closer to (Y/N), filling the empty spaces with blankets and comfort. The soft morning sun continued to filter through the curtains, cloaking the lovers in a ray of light and hope. (Y/N)’s features were practically glowing against the rays, illuminating the face Charlie loved so dearly.

“You know, I don’t have to read your mind to know what you’re thinking.” (Y/N) smiled, peering up towards her husband’s eyes. The brown irises were gleaming with life, stoked by the expression he had only ever fathomed emoting to her and only her.

“Oh yeah?” Charlie hinted, pressing a soft peck to (Y/N)’s forehead. “Then what’m I thinking?”

“That I should go put a pot of coffee on if you’re ever going to leave this bed.” (Y/N) yawned, retreating from their love nest, pulling the dark sheets to the side.

“Ah, exactly that,” Charlie said, watching (Y/N) swing her legs across their bed, moving to exit their bedroom. “See? You don’t need to read my mind to know what I’m thinking, love. It’s our special connection.” 

(Y/N) smiled, turning towards their kitchen. The wooden floorboards creaked with every step, almost drowning out the sound of a faint thought, one of Charlie’s, one (Y/N) practically missed.

I love you. So much.

.

.

.

General Tag List: @maralisa124 , @leighxlover , @hey-its-me-rai , @missihart123 , @biatheintrovert , @luna-xxxxx , @chocolaterumble

Charlie Weasley Tag List: @sungoddessra , @crescent-ia , @phantom-pheonix , @dccomicnerd-world , @marveltrash99 , @graymountaingal, @storiesbycaroline, @mytinybaguette , @garbdump

want to be added to a tag list? hmu in the replies or ask box with what characters you’d like to be tagged with!

[psychopersonified]

Quartermaster Origin - Series 2 (Ep 3 finale)

An imaginary Q-centric Netflix series

Series 2 Episode 1 & 2 here. Might want to read the first 2 episode first for everything to make more sense.

Series 1 Pilot here. 

In this second series, we see Q’s double life and how he juggles them. One as a civilian and the other in service with MI6 -  his growth his setbacks; the dramas that follow and which of the two will have to give way. 

To make Q’s backstory come to life and the events that happen to and around him seem more realistic, I’ve tried to include as much relevant details including the bureaucracy, politics and technology in MI6 (with a lot of artistic licence). The details all play a role in growing plot and telling of the narrative, I promise. 

This is meant to be a plot summary, not a full blown fic. Feel free to furnish with your own details. 

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Episode 3

Clock is ticking! ⏳

Q enlists his unofficial minions - interrupting cyberwar night. Together they form a plan to gather evidence. They confirm the findings when they retest some of the components in storage that were marked as released and find that an unusually high percentage do not meet specification. They trace the manufacturers but they have nothing in common on the surface other than being long time component suppliers to MI6. Q wants to dig further by hacking the company databases but is stopped by R who warns him that he doesn’t have M’s approval. The board only approved an internal investigation, hacking a private company without authorisation would put his career at further risk than it already is. 

By morning of the third day the team have what they need regarding the inventory system hack and the extent of it. Evidence suggests someone familiar with their procedures and systems. The hack itself not incredibly sophisticated by anyone’s standards - it didn’t need to be, the low level system was virtually unprotected. It’s effectiveness lay in how and where it was used tactically, break the weakest link and the whole system is undermined. 

They manage to determine the extent of the breach. About FOUR months. The good news is that it means limited recall of field equipment. Bad news is, the hacker has had four months of skipping around in their system unchallenged. It’s like having an intruder come and go from your house rummaging through your drawers and cupboards for months without you knowing. God knows what they might have left behind - it makes Q feel nauseous and violated. However an idea begins to form in his head....

Timeline check: Note the timeline is now somewhere at the end of Casino Royale, 007 has just infamously resigned with a one sentence email to M.

Q presents all their findings to M and the board. M sends teams to the manufacturers under the guise of a routine audit so as to not tip them off. In one of them, they find a shipment of components intended for MI6. Documents indicate that they passed inspection, but when they are tested, it’s found that they are mostly duds. The CEO denies any wrong doing and cooperates with the investigation, handing over data and recordings. Q runs the employee list through MI6 database and facial recognition, the results come back that the COO has been seen in the company of a certain Mr White (Quantum). With M’s permission, he traces the COO’s financial activities and hacks his secure accounts. He’s been receiving large sums over the course of a few months coinciding with the shipments to MI6. 

That’s one piece of the puzzle slotting into place; M now has more evidence on Mr White than a phone number Vesper left for 007 - and that allows her to sanction 007 to retrieve him for questioning. 

Meanwhile, Q acts on the idea he had and plans a trap for the hacker. The Q-Minions scramble to move all remaining systems regardless of security level behind secure firewalls; the process isn’t neat or clean and it breaks more than a few WIFI enabled printers and IOT devices, including the fancy video conferencing setup M has in her home; but its a small price to pay to remove easy entry points. Hayden can chew him out for causing the Great Print-pocalyspe later. Now for the trap - a mirror system is left in place, fed with filtered data from the master system now behind the firewall, this is so that it appears that they are still in use. Then they wait…..

Meantime, it’s been over a week since Q had last seen Adam. A quiet moment lets Q slip away to deal with his civilian life that he’s put on hold. He calls Adam who is relieved that Q is OK. Adam is in tears when he tells Q that he realises that he doesn’t even know where Q’s flat is and has gone to the extent of calling hospitals in the city to check if something has happened to him - he was close to reporting Q as a missing person to the Met. Q assures Adam the best he can and they agree to talk in a few days when whatever emergency he’s dealing with is over. 

They end the call with Q feeling like a right piece of work. He hadn’t meant to make Adam worry so much, he had meant to check in earlier, text even. So why hadn’t he? Q has a uncomfortable realisation - as wonderfully stable and predictable as Adam is, he lacks the excitement and intellectual stimulation that MI6 provides. His life in MI6 draws him like a moth to a flame, even if it might burn him one day. 

Geeky action time! after the break below. 

At Q-Branch, the shipment arrives and is put through the normal procedures of logging in new inventory and testing. Not 24 hours later the hacker strikes. This time Q and his minions are ready. As the hacker’s code rips through the mirror system, it changes data and pings its trojans within the system for updates. Q’s team record all the activity but leave the hacker unchallenged. 

Instead they chase hacker on two fronts even as the signal is bounced all over the world - the source of the hack as well as the destination of the data packets its downloaded from the mirror system to see if they overlap, hoping to find a point of origin. Both trails end up somewhere between IndoChina-Hong Kong. The source of the hack is harder to pinpoint but the data packets are ending up somewhere in Laos. It’s a poorly secured telecommunications server belonging to Lao Telecom. It’s likely the owners don’t even know they are being used as a data cache to be retrieved later by the hacker. 

Time to pull the plug. But before that Q acts on a hunch, he takes over the system locking everyone else out and executes a data grab first - pulling data off the server in Laos and dumping it into a proxy of his own in Philippines. That’s when he realises that it’s not a passive hack using automated code. There is someone on the other end actively watching... 

Now alerted to Q’s presence, the hacker fights back. Simultaneously trying to regain control of the server and chasing Q’s data grab. After several failed attempts by the hacker to regain control and protect the data - whoever they were decides to cut their losses. The hacker sends a DDOS attack to the server, overwhelming it and taking with it telecom service in the surrounding region - Q looses connection. Not the most elegant counter by the hacker, but effective. No matter, Q had already managed to grab a sizeable chunk which he’ll examine later. The other trail also ends abruptly.

Q isn’t innocent either, he’s had to initiate lockout protocols to protect the data he’s dumped in the Philippines, so even the owners of the server in the Department of Transportation can’t get in temporarily. If the traffic lights in Pasig city goes on the blink for half a day and causes mayhem…. well Q better hide their tracks.

It’s OVER. There is dead silence in Q-Branch, jarring after close to an hour of frantic activity. It’s as if no one dares to breathe. Q wills himself to calm, his fingers coming up to cover his eyes under his glasses, he finally lets out a long breath he had not realised he was holding. With that, it’s as if a tightly wound string had been cut. His minions take their cue and break into their own sighs and groans of relief. A minion (future R) is retching into the nearest bin, that was how much anxiety and stress was in the room. 

All the adrenaline and tension of the last few weeks bleeds out of him and Q feels like he can’t hold himself upright any longer. He braces himself on his work station and slowly slips onto the floor back against the workstation desk. The reality of the situation hits him then - today, halfway around the world, two servers in two unsuspecting nations just became the latest cyberwar battleground and victims of collateral mayhem. Q is treading on eggshells - an attack like this even if indirect could be construed as an act of war on sovereign nations if they ever found out (yes, Q kinda, technically, maybe caused England to declare war on two nations today).

He doesn’t know it yet, but this was their first of a series of live encounters with Raoul Silva. Q hadn’t planned on Silva being on the other end, so the timing of their counter offensive is a huge clue to Silva as to who they were. 

*A throat clearing* M and Tanner make themselves known. They were alerted when the hack started but M chose to stand back and let Q and his team handle it while she watched. Q stiffly picks himself off the floor to face M and Tanner. His minions are also rousing from their various states of collapse - future R is still clutching the bin. 

Q confirms they got what they needed. Q and his minions can now use the records of the hacker’s activity in the mirror system and compare it with the unaltered data in the master system and locate the areas that were tampered with as well as where the trojans were located. Like comparing two photographs to see what was changed. This will help them weed out the trojans and patch the system quickly, while also allowing them to study the hackers patterns and choice of tools - both as a ‘fingerprint’ identification as well as adapting MI6’s own cybersecurity response.

As for the data Q stole from the server in Laos, by the time the dust settles in Quantum of Solace, they will find that it was not just MI6s’ inventory system that was targeted. Mr White working for Quantum had been paying off employees in a number of defence companies to ship dud components and equipment to law enforcement and military around the world, while Silva uses the same hack to launder the records of faulty equipment. Once the reputation and faith in these companies have been shaken, Quantum would sweep in with their own and monopolise the industry; controlling the supply of a multi-billion dollar market and aligning it to their own agenda. 

Weeks later, 007 has removed Dominic Greene and exposed his plans in Bolivia, but its Q’s investigation and stolen data that allows MI6 to get ahead of Quantum’s plan globally. Unknown to him, Q has already thwarted SPECTRE twice before he’s even in full-time service of MI6 (once in the pilot and now). We can imagine the interest that generates within the organisation to find out who is behind it. 

(This is also my take on the personalised “Not such a clever boy” message in Skyfall. Silva knew who Q was long before 007 brought him in. And if Silva knew who Q was, so will SPECTRE. Delicious future setup! *rubs hands*)

Q meets Adam for their ‘talk’ in a local animal shelter Adam is volunteering at. Adam is much calmer, resigned even. As they feed and play with the animals, he tells Q that he’s given a lot of thought to their relationship and realises that he barely knows Q. Q has never invited him over to his place, or introduced him to his family or friends, doesn’t know what he does outside of university other than the excuses he gives. Who is he?? Q listens without saying anything. 

Q leans against against a wall of cages and watches Adam thoughtfully as he goes about his work around the shelter. Adam who is kind, thoughtful, who likes long walks and conversations, who picks up strays and nurses them back to health. Adam with his strong nurturing instinct and perfect abs, who gives everything to help those in need. Q commits possible acts of war on behalf of a nation, heedless to the damage it causes. The end justify the means and all that... a life that demands secrecy and subterfuge. Adam could never understand that. It is no one’s fault. They don’t deserve one another. They break-up amicably. 

Q helps Adam finish his shift at the shelter. As he tries to put the big adult orange tabby he’s been petting all afternoon back in its cage, the moggie refuses to let go. It meows grumpily and clings to his jumper like velcro. He’s a heavy one, rounded head with impressive jowls, ears notched in a few places and some superficial facial scarring. A street brawler before he was brought in for sure, but now a needy cuddle monster shredding Q’s jumper. Perhaps he’s feeling a little melancholy and a bit lonely now that the breakup is formal, he finds the low pitched yowling  heartbreaking. 

He finally gets the cat to let go by sacrificing his jumper, leaving the clothing inside the cage for it to snuggle in. Q goes to leave, the cat’s continued piteous calls tugs at his heartstrings. He makes it as far as the door before turning back and grabbing the cat’s papers hanging by the cage. Guess he’s not going home alone after all. 

The last scene of the finale is M in her office. She’s reviewing all the gathered intel and drawing connections. She recognises that she’s being herded into a corner. Unknown entity (Silva) trying to pull the rug out from under her by undermining MI6 through Q-Branch, while Quantum attacks directly from the inside with an assassination attempt by her bodyguard. This is only the start. 

------

Notes: I like the idea that Q is more than just a future quartermaster doling out equipment and supplies. He’s also an ‘agent’ in his own right - it makes the conversation when he meets 007 in Skyfall hold more weight. It’s not just hubris, he’s proven himself.

Next on Q... let me know what you’d like to see. 

[motherhenna]

Writers Rants: Backstory

How to Smoothly Integrate a Character’s Past into the Narrative

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If you are even remotely interested in the process of writing, then you’ve probably heard this phrase at least a hundred times over: show, don’t tell.  Such a vague sentiment, but hell if it doesn’t pack a punch. In fact, it’s probably one of the only “rules” of storytelling that ought to be followed as closely as possible and as often as possible—at least in my opinion. But what, exactly, does it mean? In layman’s terms, show don’t tell is a simple recommendation: that authors should actively illustrate a concept rather than passively explain it. Why? Simple. One leaves the reader more room for interpretation and draws them deeper into the action at hand, and the other just…well, tells them what to see and what to feel in the same way a set of DIY instructions describe how to make a quirky set of kitchen lights out of mason jars. While yes, you got a straightforward idea of what to expect, did you actually have fun reading it?

These basic concepts are important to understand if you consider yourself a writer of any kind, as they function as the foundation for a) improving your prose, b) strengthening your characters, and c) forming a flowing narrative that will catch and keep readers’ attention.  And naturally, this also applies to the art of exposition.

Most people with even a cursory knowledge of telling a story know that characters should never be blank slates. If you have any desire to portray even a facsimile of real life, you have to put at least some effort into fleshing out the main characters. And when I say ‘flesh out’, I mean do more than just describing what they look like, a laundry list of personality traits, and what they’re wearing. I’m not going to go into this process deeply, as that’s a matter for another think-piece entirely, but it’s a starting point for the more convoluted parts to come. What I’m building up to is that your characters need a backstory, especially if they’re the one(s) through whom we, as readers, experience the story, i.e., the point of view (POV) character. This applies to both first- and third-person limited narratives, unless you’re going for a more anonymous / incidental narrator, like Mr. Lockwood in Wuthering Heights.

Now, these backstories don’t have to be a strict, detailed, chronological transcription of every year in that character’s life (though doing so certainly doesn’t hurt!) Rather, you should write it much like you would describe your own life if you had to plot it out on a timeline. At first, just stick with the most essential elements: where and when in history they were born, whether they have siblings or present family, and a simple list of significant events from various periods in their life. What specific things have most influenced who they are as a person, for good or ill? Next, it’s time to look at the family, since nothing impacts an individual more than how they were raised and how they were treated during their formative years. Were their parents present during their childhood? What was their parents’ relationship like before and after your character’s birth? Are they natives of the country in which the story is set, or did they immigrate—and if they immigrated, why did they do so? All of these and more are, to me at least, vital to developing a well-rounded and realistic character. I’ve even gone so far as to type out entire timelines for each character as well as their parents. Personalities, quirks, trauma—these are all just as hereditary as one’s genes, though this doesn’t mean that this inheritance has to be through blood. Nature vs. Nurture: they’re both equally important in the formation of an individual.

…So, what to do when you’ve finished all that? Do you dutifully transcribe it into the first chapter of your story? Absolutely not. Copy it into a separate document window and keep it there. A large chunk of this is for your benefit: most likely, less than half of it will make it into the written canon of the novel, and for good reason. All of that detailed history isn’t for the reader, it’s for you to use as a framework. Some of the most powerful elements to realistic characters are the unseen, the implied: all the hidden little things that lie just under the surface, but are never fully visible to the naked eye.

What a lot of inexperienced writers may not realize is that everything doesn’t always have to be stated unequivocally through dialogue or info-dumps. How often, in real life, do acquaintances explain upfront that this specific behavior they often exhibit is a result of how they were abandoned by their father and raised by an emotionally distant mother? Most people don’t psychoanalyze everything, nor do we ourselves do it to others—at least not often! Plus, it’s boring. Getting to know characters over the course of a story should be comparable to meeting a new friend. You find out the surface things at first, but pick up bits and pieces along the way that hint at what lies deeper inside. Little by little, you learn about their family, their hopes, dreams, fears…not always directly, and sometimes even in spite of their desire to keep up a front of normalcy.

With all this said, I think it’s become clear where I stand on backstory: it should be subtle, woven gradually into the narrative rather than stated by the character themselves or described by an omniscient narrator. Not only does this make the process of reading about it flow better and progress more naturally, it’s also far more interactive. Instead of being told why a character acts the way they do, the reader can catalogue said character’s actions, motivations, dialogue, and the way they interact with their surroundings, gradually putting the puzzle pieces together for themselves. In a sense, it’s almost a reward for those who read with a careful, inquisitive eye, and can be just as satisfying as solving a mystery before the detective does in a murder mystery.

I’ve used—and will continue to use—a lot of metaphors in this section because it’s the most thorough way I can to explain this process and why it’s so important. That being said, I approach backstory in the same way I might organize a scavenger hunt. It’s not about a treasure map, but rather an ongoing set of little discoveries without which the ultimate prize can never be found. But in keeping with this analogy, why would anyone want to take part in this if a) they’re just given the prize’s location outright, or b) don’t really care about the prize anyway?

When you’re straight-up told about character’s backstory within the first few chapters, there’s no groundwork for investment. Why should I care about this character’s history if I don’t even know them yet? Investment is a gradual process, and ought to be an interactive process too. One of the best strategies of implying backstory without stating it directly is illustrating how a character reacts to specific triggers. Yes, you can tell the reader in the character’s introductory paragraph that he was almost killed in a house fire as a child, which still haunts him to this day—but how else can you impart this information more effectively and poignantly? For some examples, he might…

Be too frightened to turn on the stove.

Avoid any type of matches or aerosol at all costs.

Get anxious when filling up his car at gas stations.

Constantly check and re-check the smoke detectors throughout his apartment

Panic when he smells her neighbor’s lit fireplace.

Why would we need to explain to readers what made him this way when we have all the evidence we need to figure it out for ourselves? Of course, there’s nothing wrong with, later on down the line, this character actively opening up about this trauma to a friend or therapist, as this is only natural and also supplies us with details we would have never known otherwise. This just shouldn’t be the first way we find it out.

Another efficient and interesting approach to gradual backstory incorporation is through dialogue. The way a character responds to nosy questions, criticisms, or simple observations tell a lot about the kind of people they are and how they’re coping (or not coping) with potentially painful parts of their personal histories / insecurities. For example, Character A can ask Character B, “Why don’t you want to go out tonight?” In truth, B is trying to back out of these plans because she can’t fit into a dress she was supposed to wear for the party, and is trying desperately not fall back into the pit dug by the various eating disorders she has suffered from since adolescence. She is afraid her friends will want to take group pictures, or remark on what’s she’s eating or not eating, or notice the extra pudge in her stomach. She remembers how her mother would chide her for eating second helpings when she was young, or all the times her ex called her fat. But B is not going to be capable of explaining all of this to her partner. So how does she respond?

1.     “I just…feel tired all of a sudden…but don’t let me keep you from going.  I don’t want to spoil your night.” Implication: saving face—she doesn’t want to reveal her real insecurities, so she uses a physical illness as a cover story.

2.      “What’s it to you? If this stupid party so important to you, then you can just go without me!”  Implication: defensiveness—she is uncomfortable being vulnerable, and lashes out instead.

Now obviously these are just two examples of a plethora of different responses a person might have to a question like this. But what matters is that each answer should give the reader some sort of information as to why said character reacts the way they do. And these reactions don’t have to have traumatic roots, either! Perhaps, because Character C’s older sister always encouraged them to stick up for and respect themselves, C is able to take that positive reinforcement and pay it forward, inspired to protect others who may not know how to protect themselves.  Positive change ripples and spreads just as much as negativity, and should never be discounted just because a character has gone through their fair share of tragedy, too.

 ---

In short, there is nothing simple or easy about creative writing—there is so much nuance involved in every aspect, though that shouldn’t discourage newcomers from experimenting and taking everything step by step. There are no absolutes in writing, and every rule can be challenged, so take what I say with a grain of salt. But still, I cannot emphasize enough the importance of backstory when developing strong characters, nor how much more natural a narrative will feel when these things are integrated with subtlety and grace. Your characters should never be objects, concepts, or a means to an end: if you want to make them seem real to your readers, then they must first seem real to you.

...And real people all have their own stories: to find them, all you have to do is watch and listen.    

[samsexualdeancurious]

Many Dark Places | Chapter Two

Pairing: Thor x Reader (Eventual)

Words: 1,964

Warnings: hurt!Reader, trauma/PTSD, references/flashbacks to past torture, emotional and physical hurt/comfort, past and attempted kidnapping, Thor being a darling.

Summary: When cleaning up a camp of dark magicians near the new Asgard, Thor stumbles upon Y/N - the daughter of an Asgardian nobleman, who disappeared before Thor first traveled to Midgard in 2011.

A/N: I started writing this fic pre-Endgame and, as such, it exists in a strange world where they didn't make new Asgard on Earth and also maybe Thanos didn't win? Idk. (Loki's still dead, though. Sorry.)

Betaed by @samsgoddess​ and @the-soulofdevil

Header by me

Check out Thor's scent

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You don't know how far it is to the camp, seeing as you sleep until Thor sets you on a bed in a large, cozy tent that is clearly his. An older woman, dressed in a simple brown traveling dress and carrying a leather bag, hovers a few feet away.

“Y/N,” Thor says, petting your head soothingly. “This is Svanhild. She's a seidr-woman and here to help you, if that's alright?”

You eye her warily. Something about her face reminds you of home, of someone who sang quiet songs when you were scared and kissed your every bump and bruise. Swallowing back the emotions that well up unbidden, you nod.

She smiles kindly and sets her bag on the bed, sitting on the edge. “I'll start with your feet and we'll go from there. I promise I'll tell you before I do anything. How does that sound?”

Your words won't work but she understands your nod.

“Alright. Lift your foot up here, please.”

Thor sits behind you as you rotate to put your feet by her, his strong warmth supporting your back. Svanhild works quickly, explaining as she goes. Salves are applied to the cuts. They sting a little but that quickly fades and then she wipes the salve away to reveal new skin where the small cuts once were.

“Now, let's look at this ankle.” She lifts your foot onto her lap and gently feels the swollen joint. “Broken. I would like to use a small amount of magic to see how bad the break is.”

You clutch Thor's cloak tighter around your body, feeling his huge hand cover your own. The contact helps to steady you and you nod. If Thor trusts her, then you will try.

A wave of her hand, a few murmured words, and a soft blue light wraps around your ankle. Svanhild examines something you can't see and frowns.

“This is bad,” she sighs. “But not hopeless. I will set and bind it now. This will hurt a bit but should feel better once I've finished.”

It does hurt a bit and then it does feel better. As she finishes binding your foot and ankle, you breathe a sigh of relief. Next, she treats and wraps the rope burns on your wrists.

“Is there anything else I should look at?” she inquires.

“I think we should see what affects the dark magicians have had on you,” Thor says softly. “Would that be okay?”

You agree and Svanhild performs a spell similar to the one before, this time resulting in a deep purple light. When the light fades away, she looks puzzled.

“I cannot see any ill effects,” she tells you. “Unexpected but a good thing. You need a bath, food, and a good night's sleep. The bandages have a spell to keep them from getting wet, so you should be fine. Feel free to take a long, hot bath.”

That sounds heavenly. You give her the biggest smile you can muster and she returns it.

“I will check on you in the morning before we return home. Goodnight my lady, my King.”

Thor dismisses her and then carries you to a curtained off “room” of the tent- which you now realize is more like a small two-room building with canvas walls than a tent- that houses a large tub a servant is finishing filling with steaming water. She bows hastily and backs out of the room.

“Would you like any assistance?” Thor inquires, setting you on a stool by the tub and crouching to put his face at your level.

You shrug. You would rather bathe yourself but you know there are places you can’t reach. Thor seems to understand.

“Alright. I will help where you feel comfortable with me. Here, let's get you into the water.”

Between the cover and the warmth it's provided, you’re reluctant to give up the cloak. Thor sees it on your face and smiles to himself as he keeps it in his hands, using it as a barrier between his skin and yours. When you glance up at him, his eyes are politely averted. He doesn't look at you until you're settled in the water. The suds do a decent job covering you, assisted by the fact that the tub is nearly flowing over the edge.

The heat from the water begins seeping into your limbs, warming a chill you’d almost forgotten about, it's been in your bones so long. You settle against the side of the tub with a contented sigh as it fades.

Thor pulls a chair over and sits a few feet away. “How are you feeling?”

You look over at him, taking in his posture: leaned forward, elbows on his knees, hands clasped. You’ve gotten good at reading people- best way to avoid accidentally upsetting someone- and reading Thor is easier than most. All his thoughts, his emotions, are right there on his face and in his eyes. He’s concerned, genuinely so, and interested in what you have to say.

You shrug. How are you feeling? Your body still aches, though the major sources of pain have been dulled by the healer’s work. You’re cold at your core but warming slowly. Honestly? You’re feeling better than you have in months. Years. You open your mouth to say something, though, and the words won’t come. It’s like an invisible force is stopping the words from ever reaching your throat. Panic wells up in your chest.

Thor must read it on your face. He reaches out, hand hovering just above the edge of the tub. “It’s okay if you can’t speak,” he says. “I know all of this must be overwhelming.”

You can't help a soft snort at that. Overwhelming is an understatement.

Thor chuckles. “I understand. Would you like to rest a little in the bath? I can have food brought here.” Your eyes must brighten at those words because Thor nods and rises. He moves to the door and speaks in hushed tones to someone in the larger room of the tent before returning to his seat.

“Food is on its way,” he informs you, resettling into his former position. “Would you like to be left alone?”

Fear seizes your chest and one hand flies out without any thought to grip the closest part of him - his hands.

“Hey,” Thor says softly, strong fingers turning to give your much smaller ones a gentle squeeze. “It's all right, Y/N. I won't leave you alone.”

A soft tap outside signals the arrival of food. Thor gives your hand another squeeze before dropping it to fetch the tray. It's designed to hook over each side of the tub, creating a shelf above the water. The food is simple - a slice of bread, a bowl of basic soup, some vegetables. Your mouth immediately begins watering at the sight but you find yourself too nervous to eat.

“Go on,” Thor urges. “You need to regain your strength.”

The soup is verging on too hot but you can't find it in yourself to care, not when it tastes so good and you're so hungry. You don't even bother with the spoon, just pick the bowl up and take big sips. It's mostly broth, with chunks of potato and some kind of meat, most likely poultry.

“Slow down a little,” Thor says with a quiet laugh, shedding his armor as he speaks. It clinks as he drops it to the floor, leaving him in a simple blue tunic and black breeches. “It would defeat the purpose if you became sick.”

Your cheeks warm at that and you force yourself to put the bowl down. You trade it for the bread, taking little nibbles to savor it because it's probably the best bread you've ever had.

The room is quiet but not in an uncomfortable way. Thor is easy to be around. When you finally decide you can't eat anymore, he doesn't comment on how much you left untouched. Only moves the tray to the other end of the tub - within reach but out of the way.

“Ready to clean up?” Thor asks, fetching a small basket from the floor by the tub.

You nod, taking a bar of soap and a cloth from the basket. The soap smells spicy and musky and you're more than happy to rub it on the cloth. You take your time scrubbing everything you can reach, savoring the feeling of bathing probably for the first time in Odin only knows how long. There comes a point, though, when you can't wash anything else simply because you can't reach.

Thor has focused on his hands, giving you a little extra privacy as you bathe. He looks up when you hold the cloth out to him.

“Would you like some assistance with your back?” he asks, carefully taking the cloth.

You nod, curling your arms around your chest and sitting forward. Thor moves the stool closer to the tub.

“I'm going to touch you now,” he warns before he begins gently scrubbing across your shoulders and upper back.

The scratch of the cloth in places previously untouched feels wonderful and you can't help a soft sigh, letting your head tip forward. Thor is thorough but careful not to overstep. When he's done, he drapes the cloth over the edge of the tub.

“Would you like me to wash your hair?”

Washing your hair is a short process - the dark magicians cut it shorter than a boy's early on and have kept it that length ever since - but Thor's huge fingers massaging your scalp help to draw more tension from your body and when you're finally all clean, you feel better than you have in years.

“You're all shriveled up,” Thor teases, tapping your fingers where one hand is draped over the side of the tub. “Perhaps it's time to get out? I had some clothes brought for you to sleep in.”

You're reluctant to leave the safety of the water but the water is getting cold and the towel Thor offers is fluffy, oversized, and oh so inviting. You climb out of the tub and Thor immediately wraps the towel around you, using it as a guard between his hands and your skin like he did with the cape earlier. He guides you to sit on the stool so you can dry off while he fetches the clothes - undergarments and a simple blue sleeping gown. The fabric feels strange against your skin, a soft weight you haven't felt in a long time.

“I think it's time for bed,” Thor murmurs. “Can you walk?”

You test your ankle against the floor. It doesn't hurt as bad anymore and you could probably walk on it if you’re careful but sleep is making your brain fuzzy and you know you're gonna fall over if you stand. You shake your head a little sheepishly.

“That's all right. I can carry you.”

And he does just that, strong arms looping around your shoulders and under your knees. He hoists you into the air with ease, settling you against his chest. You fight the urge to burrow into that warmth and fall asleep right here again - something about him is comforting in a way you haven't felt in years.

The trip to the bed is a short one. Before you know it, he's laying you on the mattress and pulling thick, heavy blankets up to your chin. The blankets settle over you, a weight that seems to soak up every ounce of tension from your body and dissipate it elsewhere. You find yourself sinking into the mattress, suddenly too tired to keep your eyes open.

The last thing you're aware of is Thor's hand resting gently atop your head, thumb rubbing soothing circles along your hairline.

---

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[georgecrecy]

Charlie 7

James and Charlie emerged into the bright light provided by the dozen flood lamps on the cave roof above as the roar of thousands of spectators thundered around them. Charlie and his human friend were guided to opposite starting positions on the stained dirt of the arena, and James watched as Lord Takrex reappeared from another set of stairs next to the announcer’s podium, the multi-armed announcer leaning in to converse with the Straxhi overlord. Takrex finished speaking and headed to his own customary position in his personal viewing box above the podium as the announcer’s voice boomed through the various projecto-bots floating high above. “Ladies and gentlemen from across the vast reaches of space! We at the Hub have a special event lined up for your viewing pleasure! Our reigning champion, the vicious Rang’var, will be facing off against a perilous human from among the crew of Captain Choep in a fight of life or death! Can he tame the beast, or will he be ripped to shreds?”

The jeers and shouts from the uproarious crowd indicated they would prefer the latter, betting girls raking in the credits as they were called from all sides. James looked askance at the crowd around him and at Lord Takrex, who he saw had just sat down with his many attendants around him, and another human seated beside him in a grey suit. His eyes squinted momentarily trying to better see who it was before he realized the owner of the slicked-back hair was none other than Crassus Jaul! He cursed to himself and hoped that Jaul wouldn’t realize it was him. As Takrex and Jaul laughed and spoke like old underhanded friends, James could see that Jaul looked puzzled and annoyed as if he had forgotten something but couldn’t remember what, though the miner knew all too well what it was. The little charade he could have done with Charlie wasn’t going to work.

The announcer’s fatal words rang out once more around the boisterous arena atmosphere, “It is time for a fight! All bets are now final, and let the best fighter win!”

The guards hurriedly cleared from around Charlie after unlocking the collar remotely, rushing to the nearest exits, while the guards near James also hurried to get away. The hush of the expected audience was interrupted by the sound of distant thumps and booms from outside the station. The audience muttered and looked around as Takrex and Jaul both put fingers up to earpieces, Takrex looking confused but unperturbed once he had gotten a report, and he motioned to the announcer to continue.

With a start, the announcer looked back to the arena, his voice echoing as he said, “Nothing to worry about, as I said, ahem, let the bout commence!” However, James and Charlie were far ahead of him.

Moving forward at a trot, Charlie had already picked up speed until he was galloping toward the comparatively tiny figure of James, who was similarly rushing headlong towards the charging freighter’s worth of weight in muscled mass. The audience cheered or held their breath in anticipation as the two met, expecting a very flattened human pancake to result from this. At the same time, Jaul in his comfy leather chair on the podium suddenly had a spark of memory that made him haul up from his seat in a flurry, pointing at the impending clash below. “Kill that man! He is in league with the Dragon!”

Instead of a pancake, Charlie abruptly stopped, sending a cloud of dirt up into the air around them. James instead directed Charlie’s via his muzzle, back out of the dust cloud and toward Charlie’s starting position and the collar that was on the ground. Searching hurriedly across the ground, he cast about for the small device as the first bolts of murderous laser light plodded into the ground around them from combi-blasters. Blasts from outside the station were growing closer, even rocking the station itself and sending twirls of rocky dust descending from above as all could now hear the whir of energy coursing through the station as the massive defense grid powered up. Jaul continued to point and shout to the arena below as Takrex shooed him off, too busy listening to the feed in his ear and heading towards the nearby set of stairs.

Finally, James found the glint of steel from the device, and more importantly found the button on it. Pressing it, he immediately felt the station vibrate as explosions were set off at several important points in the power grid. The spotlights above flickered and almost died before backup systems kept some power running, but the power necessary to keep the station’s defense grid running was now gone. Charlie roared as several bolts found their mark finally in his tough hide, the guards having better luck now that they had cleared past the jostling crowd who were running for the exits. In his ear, James heard a welcome voice say, “Thunder.” The human shouted over the cries of the crowd, “Airlock!” Charlie closed his eyes and held his breath while James reached to the very end of his arm’s reach on either side to close over Charlie’s ear holes, doing his best to use his arms to cover his own ears and squeezing his own eyes shut.

The rock in the ceiling exploded, sending rock flying throughout the room. From the several holes then opened were black cans that fell several hundred feet. Within a few seconds the cans exploded with loud BANGS and flashes of bright white light, blinding everyone in the room. Chaos exploded as soldiers of various species descended into the arena, further explosions rocking the arena as well, sending more chunks of the ceiling to fall from above. James looked up in time to see a good-sized piece detach from the ceiling above and head straight for him, attempting to duck out of the way but was not fast enough, the chunk barely glancing off his head was still enough to knock him out. His consciousness faded to nothing as he crumpled to the floor, his vision fading to black as he saw Charlie stand over him protectively, a clarion howl escaping the large Tilluxian lungs.

Sitting on the grass in the bright sunlight, James scratched absentmindedly at the sore spot on the back of his head, which had been pronounced ‘fully healed’ by the Vlexeene doctors just a few days ago. Again, James thought, while many considered the humans almost exaggeratedly extraordinary in their capacity to heal, they might have been too optimistic. But he was happy, especially since he was leaning up against the heaving side of his leathery, humongous friend.

A ways down the hillock from where they sat resting, the two watched contentedly as the lithe form of Princess Saevi maneuvered skillfully in and among the tree-like legs of the female Tilluxian that had been rescued from the Hub, which Saevi had decided would be named Gresi after a breed of flowers that bloomed only in the darkest winters on Vlexia. Gresi looked a lot better than when James had found her, though there was little that the vets on any planet could do to patch the many scars or the missing eye. But Gresi had taken to Saevi surprisingly quickly, and much to the palace guards’ dismay was loathe to let her leave her large side whenever the Princess had to go inside. Saevi climbed along the neck of the Tilluxian, swinging confidently underneath despite the one arm. Seeing James and Charlie looking their way, Saevi let go with her hand and hung by just her legs, waving at the two up the hill while upside down. Gresi twisted her neck and licked the hanging Vlexeene princess, causing her to giggle and let go, plopping very unceremoniously on the ground, still laughing away.

Up to their side, Colonel Eahn sidled up from the glittering palace behind them, looking at the scene below with a smile. Patting Charlie’s side, he looked down at James below him. “I’m glad you are finally well enough to be out with us in the sunshine.”

James nodded in assent, wincing slightly as his head throbbed a bit. “Yep, it is certainly nice, I must say. Now I’ve been missin’ out on the news of what happened after I got conked out. You wanna fill me in?”

Eahn threw up a hand in disgust. “We needn’t speak in detail on such a nice day, but needless to say the Hub will no longer be operational if the five systems have any say about it. Once we were able to get them to stop squabbling, they finally acceded to working together against a common enemy, especially once they knew who they were fighting for. The Yallarians and humans from Arta 6 were the first to agree, and then the Vasha once we had explained more of the situation. We were able to smash the fleet easily enough once their defenses powered down, and good job on that, by the way. Once those hell-born human marines of yours got into the fray, what we didn’t wrangle up or kill in the confusion, flew off to the three winds like Narx Rats from a flame.”

James nodded, glad that the scum had been sent packing. He broke his gaze from the antics of Saevi and Gresi to look worriedly at Eahn. “And what about the worst of the bunch? Did you guys bag those monsters Takrex and Jaul?”

Eahn pursed his lips, a hand going up to reflexively twirl one of his whiskers. “We did get Takrex, though it is currently a fight with all the systems claiming jurisdiction to put him on trial. All the worse for him. As for Jaul, I’m afraid that blaggard managed to escape, but not before we saw him and his personal ship. He is now a wanted man, while Southtech has disavowed all knowledge or involvement in his ‘activities.’ They have bigger worries on their hands considering the investigations now slated their way, I would suppose. I understand the Yallarians and Vashans are rather displeased with how their accounts were handled. Apparently they found documents to support their claims to fraud.”

James looked up with a smile. “I suppose that means your boys were able to figure out that mess I gave ya?”

Eahn smiled back slyly. “Officially, I have no idea what you are talking about.”

James merely nodded and smiled, and looked back at the endearing scene below. Saevi and Gresi were framed by the city in the background, a shining white mass of buildings, streets, and causeways. Above the city were jumpcars and freighters that moved across the various skylanes as they followed their courses through life. James reflected on the course his own life had taken him, from the first meeting of the gargantuan Charlie some years ago, to all the adventures they had gone through together, and all the people they had the good fortune to meet, and he couldn’t help but smile contentedly. The light throbbing in his head seemed to disappear entirely as he felt the breath of his humongous friend bellow in and out. He hoped it would never end.

FIN Read the other parts of the series!

Part 1: https://georgecrecy.tumblr.com/post/183762132696/charlie-1

Part 2: https://georgecrecy.tumblr.com/post/183787102041/charlie-2

Part 3: https://georgecrecy.tumblr.com/post/183794906326/charlie-3

Part 4: https://georgecrecy.tumblr.com/post/183805565796/charlie-4

Part 5: https://georgecrecy.tumblr.com/post/183818824461/charlie-5

Part 6: https://georgecrecy.tumblr.com/post/183819131196/charlie-6

[bloojayoolie]

Anime, Apparently, and Ass: File: furies ipg (405 KB, 1296x968) 631157670 631165562 >»631166037 Anonymous 07/29/15(Wed)08:18:07 No.631156939 Alright boys, sit down for a tale of the most Autistic kid I have ever had the displeasure of running into Wolfman Greg >Re me >Be 16, around 2000 a popular kid either Kinda did my cwn thing really >Shared World History with this kid >His name was Greg il from arace and into autism >Greg at this point was quiet, and reserved, never did anything to get bullied >Especially after Columbine >Fnday b g to change soon >That Monday >Apparently Greg's parents had bought him a computer, and an Intenet connection sHe hvigusly hadn't showered at all since friday >He didn't really pay attention during class and was mostly drawing in his notebook >His smell was palpable Grea collected his things and headed for the door >Not before he bumped into a guy named Mike kewas hot pleased with Greg's odor >Greg stood silent for a moment >And then he did it Mike iust ushed Grea out of the way and made his way into the hallway and walked to his next class >The rest of the kids gave Greq a strange room for the rest of the day 631160061 631160215 631165562 >631165642 631165921 Anonymous 07/29/15(Wed)08:26:44 No.631158773 File: 1437110427545.ipg (418 KB. 1955x2048) day Appars sinstead he bought a gray hoodie, and some cloth >And sewed some years to the hood >At least he showered this time Greg didn't do his homework the night before >The teac her was this really nice vegan lady from Oregon >She was a little pushy with homework but that was it really ork to be passed up front >She askd theirs >"Greg? Where's your homework? >Silence 3She anproached his desk >The room was stranoely tense, before this Grea was a good student >She was standing at Greg's desk 3She reached out for a niece of paper she assumed was his homework >And then he snapped at her >Not like screaming or yelling, but he he bite her >The teacher gasped >Grea just got up and Naruto ran out of the room hing before and we were really taken aback by him trying to bite the teacher, but the way he ran >No one saw Greg for the rest >Apparently he got on a table, curled up into a ball and tried to nap Indian man in charge didn't care enough to bother him of the day until one of the Stoner kids reported seeing Greq in after school detention Anonymous 07/29/15(Wed)08:35:48 No.631160463 File: 1432672843827 ipg (1.79 MB, 5000x5000) 631160790 >631161301631165562 >Wednesday >Greg apparently wanted to make it up to the teacher euse er rold broke down vcle SOneele >She had what was left of a bug on her cheek that she missed She walked into class ten minutes after class started >She apologized for her being late >Greg walked up to her >Hood up >Shitty cloth ears flopping >She looked at him puzzled ant to tell me Greg? She was probably hoping for an apoloqy >Greg grabbed her face paper in his hand He nad lold And licked her cheek >And the bug quts too Grea then tueked the nanor into her breast pocket and sat back down >The teacher, as a testament to her character, pretended that never happened >The class went on as normal verge of tears the entire time while we were talking about the Boxer Rebellion When the bell rang again, Greg bolted full Naruto style out of the room >His hoodie came loose and fell off hair >Revealing a really shitty attempt at anime >After school as I was walking home I saw our US History teacher talking to the school cop >With her equally vegan and upset boyfriend there too We didn't see Grea for two weeks after that Anonymous 07/29/15(Wed)08:47:48 No.631162869 File: Scared ipg (67 KB, 656x584) 631163694631164020 631164078631164239631165562 Thursday, two weeks after the incident >Grea was back >If you think he was bad after a weekend of early 2000s Internet, Greg has been SCARED He clearly hadn't showered, at all He looked like he slept, ate and shat in the gray eared hoodie He reoked very poorly made tail to the back d >By this time we we The teacher decided to hold class outdoors for once to demonstrate some things >As soon as we got outside, everyone put themselves up wind of Greg Evnthing was coing fine we were discussing the Battle of Somme in the gentle Arizona winter Greg, what are you doing? >All eyes shot to Greg to see what horror we were about to witness with one hand in th He didn't andwor >Everyone turned back to our teacher PAnd then the digging got more ferocious e grounds keepers worked really hard to grow that grass!" >No answer, he kept digging Greg!" tensified Grestop ar Still nothing Mike stood up and started walking towards Greg to stop him had a foot deep hole about square foot wide >Fvervone stonned >Their faces when >Greg tumed around SAnd started to poo >Oh God the stench Evione flinned and oot as far away from him as possible >Greg managed to fill the entire hole up >He then lifted his pants And then buried it >The 9/10 goth girl fainted Greg got sent to the office And was sent home for the day 631164732 631164845631164983 631165088 631165130631165135631165162631165268631165307 Anonymous 07/29/15(Wed)08:56.32 No.631164486 631185639 22631166136 File: XaviOda jpg (19 KB, 320x240) Friday >Greg was tolerable that day, nothing happened The following Monday to class >Like realy late >The poor teacher marked him absent >Half way through the treaty of Versailles quess who showed up >And the horrar >We didn't see it at first, or for the next ten minutes we heard it Acnch >And not the normal granola kind >Like the wet, gross kind iting into a bone would make >The girl in front of Grea turneod around >She flipped her shit Greg what the fuckl" SA half eaten bird >He was late bec ause of this l aleo wotod to throw because he managed to catch a bird, kill it, and partially eat it The teacher approached him and attempted >Greg wasn't having it rescue the poor avian creature from this kid >A had o landed a bite on her >Mike had enough of this shit >Before he could react though Greg through his meal at him >The distraction worked o over a desk >He failed and landed face first on the tile >Luckily he had enough time to get up, spit out some blood and Naruto run out of the room eneheied te wcks of school bec ause of an infection though 31166912631166935631166956 631167039 22631167068 631167080 6311 Anonymous 07/29/15(Wed)09:06:19 No.631166557 ile: 1437626420912.ipg (298 KB, 1024x768) >About a week into our poor teacher's absence >The substitute put us in the computer lab to research some shit: Thanks to her fatness and her odor, she was immune to Greq's smell barrier >Qur schedule was fucked that day >They were having a assembly for 8th graders that would be attending next vear >So we only had our first class that >For eight hours We broke for lunch, nothing weird happened with Greg, yet. Swhen we got back though, shit started happening >Evervone had the post lunch sleepies >Half the class was napping at their terminals was helping the 9/10 aoth gid work on her Horror novel >Wasn't too bad except for some grammar errors >And we were flirting >The substitute fell asleep at some point, leaving Greg free to do as he pleased >And he was really pleasing himself T happened to glance up and catch it >Grea was jacking it pretty hard >He must have just started because no one seems to have noticed yet ou stanng a- OH MY GOD >The aoth gid This in tum drew attention to Greg Who happened to start climaxing >The next five seconds was beautiful the Grea nanicked mid cu >Instead of tuning off the computer a pushed the monitor off the desk p getting cum every the tard wranglers e ended >He was transferred out of regular classes >But this was not the end of Wolfman Greg d)09:19.31 No.,631168892 250x213) 29. File: 14315458 10401 gif (1.5 MB We went a month without Greg shenanigans l even managed to sleep with the goth girl a couple of times outside of class >He didn't speak much, but we nicknamed him "8 Ball 8 Ball didn't take Greg's shit, except for letting him growl or whine once in a while the end of Junior year we thought we had heard the last of Wolfman Greg >None >l unch time l was sitting with the Goth Girl, Marian and her gaggle of dark brooding sisters tables were >We were talking about Poe when it happened >The doors to the tard building burst open was Greg I watch him sprint out, howling >8 Ball no where to be seen en Grea wondered around for a hit before singling out prev This noor shy gid named Marissa >He snuck up behind her >Oh God dher to the table >And pretended to mount her >He had his dick out and was rubbing it on the back Wing like a woll te cattered f her sweater This had to be the final straw >This went on for what felt like forever 8 Ball finaly ehowed un after getting Arby's >Greg was expelled after this and labeled a sex offender >Marissa dropped out >That was the end of Wolfman Grea for high school I have ONE more, this happened six months ago Anonymous 07/29/15(Wed)09.31:26 No.631171137 File: LTXeu.ipg (127 KB, 800x853) Greg was allowed to join our class. Not join me in hitting that sweet pale ass in the back, and n the hood of my old CRX. I can drop that green text if omvone's interoster Six months ago seeing Greg He had left my mind entirelv >Driving through my old town to visit my folks >Then I see it >is that? >No fucking way >Holy shit its Tucking Greg Lom in furkino aw that he's got a sweet scooter and I'm on a second had liter bike >Nearly rear end a taxi >He pulls up next to me sna lcan fucking smell him through my helmet l nearly puke >Manage to distance myself from him and get to my parents place >Decide to meet up with some old friends for a nde >Step outside fucking Vespa in the neiahbor's drive wav >No >lgnore it and go cruise w hours later sVesna still th >Please no >Greg lives next door to my folks now Facebook Grea's folks died and he inherted a large chunk of change >Bought the house next to my parents > Is a complete neet. 1/2 A File: 1427957849766 ong (97 K s 07/29/15(Wed)09:38:56 No.631172339M 460x470) 631171137 anything but browse the Internet probably and do Wolfman things >Try to not let this crush my soul and crawl into my old bunk bed to sleep for the night >As l'm drifting off to the though of making the Goth Girl of yesteryear swallow my cum and calling it st'e furking howling >God dammit Greg >My boner is ruined It's loud too ing howling keeps me up until 3am L finaly fell asleep Wake up the next moming 60 through the day with my folks a shell of my formor self >lt happens aqgain >The terror is replaced with rage no window This is it "Greal It's 11 o'clock at night! I have to >Slam window home tomorrow and I need sleep! SHUT THE FUCK UP" SFall asleep and leave the next moming >A few months later mom calls me The cops entered Greg's home due to a smell complaint >Crea was deod >I inadvertently got him to kill himself ut the bou tom don It's now an empty lot >But I, and hundreds of others still remember Wolfman Greg God speed, vou magnificent. early furry trash bastard. Wolf man Greg

[virmillion]

As Above, So Below - Part 4

Part 1 // Part 3 // Part 5 // Masterpost

It’s ya boi back at it with a second fic in the same day because they’re on vacation and time is an illusion - also sorry this one is twice as long as the last few, I apparently love writing from Logan’s perspective because descriptions are too fun

Ship(s): None yet

Warning(s): None, but let me know if you need something tagged

    Logan strolls calmly through the corridor of the palace, adjusting his blue tie to sit straight and unwrinkled. The sun rises with the dawn outside, the floor-to-ceiling windows casting sunbeams into the hall, illuminating specks of dust dancing in the air and warming the space like summer. This is one of Logan’s favorite times of day—the silence at daybreak, a whole palace to himself as all of the other inhabitants doze peacefully for a few more hours. A close contender is late at night, when everyone else has retired to their rooms, or raided the kitchen already. The quietness and his own company are all Logan really needs, and just toss in a good book with some Crofter’s-jellied toast for a good day.

    He reaches the end of the windowed hall, immediately feeling colder in the next room, with its curtains drawn and doors tightly shut. The library. An ideal room, full of towering bookshelves overflowing with every genre imaginable, organized thousands of different ways every week—one of Logan’s favorite hobbies. But that’s a task for later. For now, he continues through the cold room, trailing a hand over the only cypress desk in the room—a dark slab of wood amidst a handful of pale brazilian cherry tops. Fond memories live within this desk, of late hours preparing for royal court visits, or burning eyes from straining to read with the shrinking light of the candle wick, of escaping the havoc of Exolas and its problems for more peaceful, distant worlds.

    In the hall and down the stairs, Logan runs his hand over the red mesquite banister, admiring the smooth finish—the palace staff finally replaced the offending old oak railing. It was like a stain overlooking the grand space before it, painted in a red and white pattern so unnatural it might well have been hundreds of candy canes lining the steps.

    Having thoroughly criticized the old decorations, Logan jumps from the third-to-last step to the floor, allowing himself a small smile at the pleasure of it. An old tradition from when he was younger, a little less of a daredevil now than he was then—sliding down the railing on his stomach, face-first and hands in the air, isn’t exactly the safest way to get down the stairs anymore. It probably wasn’t necessarily safe in the first place, anyway.

    On to the kitchen, just starting to see the beginnings of activity as the cooks prepare breakfast. Logan lifts a hand in greeting to the head chef, Grace, who waves back with a batter-covered spatula.

    “Hi Lo!” she calls out, “why haven’t I seen you lately?”

    “Busy with royal nonsense, you understand,” Logan replies, sidestepping someone carrying a platter larger than his head.

    “Definitely, but when are we gonna see you down here more often? You’re missing training,” Grace whines, looking back at her oven as Logan recalls the near misses of a knife to his head in their ‘training.’ Admittedly, not a displeasurable time.

    “Maybe so, but I would assume you’re missing it, too, if you’ve clawed your way to head of the kitchen staff. How long, precisely, has it taken you to get here?”

    “Couple weeks, but you know I’m gonna fight tooth and nail to keep it.” Grace expertly flips a giant rainbow chocolate chip pancake to prove her point. Undoubtedly a special request from one of the younger denizens of the palace.

    “I’m sure,” Logan grins. “I’ll look into coming back for training, as I do rather miss it.” He plucks an apple from a basket by the door and calls goodbyes as he slips out of the kitchen, wiping the apple on his shirt and heading for the stairs again. With the apple’s tart flavor spreading over his tongue, it’s time to traverse the endless hallways to find and wake Roman.

    As Logan lifts a fist to knock on the tall white door, adorned with red ribbons and rubies, it flies open, Roman’s beaming face behind it.

    “Since when do you wake up this early in a good mood?” Logan asks. “You’re the last creature alive I’d associate with being a morning person.”

    “Because I finally found one that’ll stump you!” Roman declares triumphantly. He holds up a book of logic puzzles, from which he gives Logan one the first time they see each other every day. Needless to say, most of those who live in the castle avoid going to the bathrooms frequented by the pair in the morning, since they likely don’t want to hear another riddle when they’re just trying to pee.

    “Alright, let me have it.” Logan smiles, biting into the apple again. Roman rarely gets this excited unless the puzzle is really hard.

    “Okay, so there’s this guy trying to get into a secret club, right? So he stakes out the club building and watches other people get in. The person guarding the door says a number, and the one trying to get in says a number in response. The guard says twelve, so the first member says six. For the next person, the guard says six, so the second member says three. When the guy trying to sneak in goes up, he’s given the number ten, so he says five, but they don’t let him in! Why not?” Roman summarizes all of this from the longer description in the book, snapping it shut with an air of confidence that Logan won’t be able to solve it.

    “Roman, I had high hopes for you! This one should have been far more difficult, given your excitement in its introduction,” Logan remarks.

    “Big words from someone who hasn’t solved the riddle yet,” Roman pouts. Logan swallows an apple chunk and gives his answer.

    “Not out loud, I haven’t. The guy sneaking in should have said three—three letters in the number ten, three letters in the number six, six letters in the number twelve.”

    “Way to kill my mood.” Roman sticks his tongue out, tosses the book into his messy room, and links an arm with Logan, stealing a bite from his half-eaten apple.

    “First of all, if you would give me a better riddle, I wouldn’t have to ruin your mood. Secondly, I’m about to make it even worse,” Logan reassures him, snatching the apple back.

    “How so?” A note of dread tints the edge of Roman’s words. Logan making a threat is never a good sign.

    “Today is AKI day.” Assessment of Kingdom Issues, otherwise known as sitting on a throne and doing nothing while citizens talk at Roman, letting Logan deliver the harsh blows before allowing Roman to comfort the people. What fun. “Come on, Princey, down to the throne room, where many great joys and adventures await you in the riveting political scheme of Exolas.”

    “I thought I said not to call me that,” Roman grumbles, pretending to be upset. Logan ignores him, carrying on through grand ballrooms, expansive hallways, and peaceful lounges to arrive at the second largest set of doors in the palace. Just ahead of them in size is the entry doors, which proudly guard the building at three stories tall. The doors now in front of the pair are backed with white birchwood, the towering gates looming over the hall. They consume all light and attention with their inlaid rubies and diamonds, spitting it back in glittering patterns across the walls. Even the pashmina carpet, embroidered with gold, dances in the light of the shining stones, all crawling up the door and intertwining with gold piping as it runs across silver lace. Breathtaking, to say the least, but too manufactured for Logan’s tastes.

    He throws the door open without a moment of hesitation to admire the shifting reflections of the jewels, exposing a room to rival the doors themselves. A long, vermillion carpet leads up to an elevated stage of hickory pine, polished to smooth perfection. Upon the stage rests one throne, cushioned with rose red and held up by a frame of gold inset with pearls. Only one throne, as the king never lowers himself to interacting with his subjects for AKIs. Dotting the walls of the room stand great marble columns, covered in reliefs of the king in stuff of legend, defeating every obstacle in his path. There’s but one column remaining incomplete, just to the right of the door; some servants hammer away at it, revealing a scene of Roman dueling a dragon.

    Having already become desensitized to the scene over their many years of entering the room, the two boys walk right past it all, hardly noticing the striking progress on Roman’s column, or the fervent bows of the workers they pass. Roman settles heavily into the throne, situating his sash to be unrumpled before resting his right ankle on his left knee. Logan takes up position to the left of the throne, holding his shoulders square and clasping his hands behind his back. Roman twiddles his thumbs impatiently as Logan looks on, watching the large doors swing shut to allow unhappy people to line up behind them before coming in to yell at a prince who has absolutely no control over their rotten lots in life.

    With a forceful clearing of his throat, Logan kicks the foot of the throne before holding out something very important that Roman somehow managed to forget—his crown. Honestly, it’s a downright miracle that Logan doesn’t just wear it himself at this point. He’s got half a mind to do so, but the other half is preoccupied with sorting out problems for those lucky enough to be able to vent their misdirected anger at Roman.

    As Roman finishes adjusting the crown on his head, the doors swing open like a gaping mouth, allowing a castle guard to escort in the first unhappy citizen. Haggard, with tattered clothes and filthy hair, but the shoes on their feet are just shy of being worn all the way through, indicating that while this person might be down on their luck, they haven’t yet reached the bottom of the barrel, typically shown by wearing paper bags for shoes.

    “That city of convicts is out of control!” they yell, prompting the guard to shift into a defensive stance. “Every day, they’re always out and about—”

    “Doing what?” Logan interrupts, already disinterested and a good deal irritated. “Being human? Trying to move past their soiled backgrounds? Avoiding airheads like you that refuse to accept that some people have it worse than others, and that leads them to make regrettable bad decisions?” The person below Logan and Roman opens and closes their mouth a few times, not unlike a fish gasping in air. With a scowl, Logan jerks his chin at the door, prompting the guard to show the person out. “You aren’t the first person to complain about them,” Logan calls, “and I’m certain you won’t be the last.” Roman gives a half-hearted apology, but the snobbish complainer is already gone. Embarrassment, anger, or something else has made them rush out in a huff, without waiting for the guard, but quite frankly, Logan doesn’t really care.

    The next person ushered in carries a basket of spoiled fruits and vegetables. Evidence, in Logan’s opinion, is always more useful in these situations than empty grievances aired for the express purpose of seeing the inside of the palace. This person has some issue about pesticides from a neighbor killing all of their crops, a real problem with an actual solution, finally.

    Logan leans down to murmur in Roman’s ear, “send them back with a cease and desist notice for the neighbor, and have the guard take them to the kitchens for some produce-friendly pesticides. Say to ask for Grace, and mention that Logan sent them.” Roman repeats as much to the basket-carrier and the guard, pleased when this citizen walks out in much higher spirits than the one before.

    AKIs aren’t so bad, truthfully. Just exhaustingly tedious. With few real problems and all too many complaints about the city of convicts, Logan and Roman are at their wits’ end, and it’s not even lunch yet.

    “It’s about the city of convicts,” the latest person says, barreling straight through Logan’s automatic ‘holier than thou’ speech. “Not the convicts themselves, but there are these two boys that are nowhere near as rough as the other people in that city.” Before Logan can attempt to interrupt the person again, Roman holds a hand up in a stop gesture. This might actually be worth listening to. “Both of them have purple hair, kind of like yours,” they bow to the prince and Logan in turn, “and I’m just not sure that it’s in their best interests to leave them out there. I don’t know the two personally, but I’m concerned for their safety.” The person bows low again before allowing the guard to lead them out. The door shuts behind the pair and remains so. AKIs over.

    “Now that’s an interesting one,” Logan remarks. Roman gives a noncommittal grunt of agreement, rising from his throne in search of food. Making a mental note of the latest complaint and carefully filing it away for later consideration, Logan follows.

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