#variables fic

[perfectsunlight]

( 𝟯𝟵 ) ✏ goodnight

𝘄𝗮𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴𝘀: none

𝗽𝗮𝗿𝘁 𝗼𝗳 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝘀𝗲𝗿𝗶𝗲𝘀: 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝘃𝗮𝗿𝗶𝗮𝗯𝗹𝗲

minjeong had been to hundreds of important dinners. her father took her on his business trips often, allowing her to be well educated in table manners and etiquette.

but she knew this wasn’t just any important dinner, it was dinner with your sister.

she was more nervous for this than her upcoming finals.

however, dinner went better than minjeong had anticipated. after all, she had been practicing what to say and do in the car on her way over to your house anyway. but even besides her preparation, your sister made her feel right at home at the table.

but nothing prepared her for how beautiful you looked all dressed up. sure, you showed up to every tutoring session overdressed. however, she had never seen you dolled up to this extent. every time her gaze landed on you, her heartbeat stuttered and she found herself struggling to focus on the food in front of her.

“your top, it’s chanel, right?” jennie asked with a small smile as she tilted her head to the side, subtly raising her eyebrows at your tutor. minjeong knew without a shadow of a doubt that jennie had caught her staring at you. the blonde glanced down at her shirt before looking up and nodding. “yes, it is. i believe my mother got it for me a while ago.” the idol hummed in response before chuckling. “did y/n ever tell you what happened to the first chanel bag i got her?” immediately, your face turned red and you glared at your sister from across the table. “hey!” 

the president’s eyes sparkled with curiosity as she looked between you and jennie. “no, she hasn't. what happened?”

you groaned, burying your face in your hands. your sister was embarrassing you on purpose in front of the girl you were head over heels for. “jennie, please don’t.”

your older sister ignored your plea, her smile widening. “so, i bought her this beautiful one of one chanel bag for her birthday. she was so excited and loved it so much that she insisted on taking it everywhere. but one day we were out at some korean barbecue place in new york and she accidentally dropped it on top of the side dishes.”

minjeong’s eyes widened, and she covered her mouth, trying to stifle her laughter. “oh, that’s not good. what happened then?”

jennie laughed, shaking her head. “she was mortified and the bag was covered in sauce and kimchi juice. we had to get it professionally cleaned overseas, and that was a whole other ordeal. but she learned her lesson about taking expensive bags to restaurants.”

you peeked out from behind your hands, face still flushed. “i was just excited, okay? and i was trying to be careful.”

the blonde turned to look at you with amusement in her eyes. “is that why you make me carry your bag when we go out to eat?”

you laughed, feeling the initial embarrassment melt away. “maybe.” 

minjeong chuckled, shaking her head. “well, you’re lucky i don’t mind.”

your heart fluttered at her words, and you smiled back, unaware of your sister’s smile forming at the sight of you two.

the rest of the evening passed in a comfortable haze, the three of you watching a movie together. jennie eventually excused herself to get some rest, leaving you and minjeong alone. not before she told you two to “behave yourselves.”

the living room was dimly lit, the only light coming from the tv screen, casting a soft glow over minjeong’s features. and just like in the car, you couldn’t stop yourself from admiring how beautiful she was.

after a while, minjeong broke the silence, snapping you out of your gaze. 

“i’ve noticed how hard you’ve been working. i’m proud of you, y/n. i know you’re going to do great on your finals.”

your chest swelled with gratitude and affection. all your efforts had made a difference in your grades, but you knew that your finals would make or break you. to hear such words of affirmation from the girl who had helped you made you feel entirely more grateful.

“thank you. that means a lot coming from you.”

the blonde’s eyes wandered from the screen to meet yours. there was something different about the way she looked at you. it was a look of admiration, mixed with something deeper, something that made your heart race. 

“stay.” you whispered, the words coming out before you could stop them. minjeong’s eyes widened slightly, a visible blush creeping up her cheeks, even in the dark. “stay?” she repeated, her voice barely audible.

you nodded, gathering your courage. “yes, stay. here.with me. please.” the glow of the tv screen danced shadows across both of your faces. “i’ve already moved out of the apartment on campus because finals are this week and i don’t want you to leave.”

the president couldn’t say no to the honesty in your voice, or the way you looked at her. then again, she didn’t think she could say no to you ever. 

“okay.” she whispered with a small nod. “i’ll stay.”

“thank you,” you breathed, feeling a surge of warmth towards her.

minjeong returned your smile, though a hint of shyness colored her expression. you gestured towards the stairs. “come with me.” the invitation was soft yet inviting, and the blonde knew you were not asking out of lust.

nodding slightly, the blonde followed you to your room. the air was charged with a newfound tension, a mixture of anticipation and nervousness. once inside, she closed the door behind her, the soft click echoing in the silence.

minjeong glanced around the room, her eyes taking in the unfamiliar surroundings. your room was fairly large, and definitely had your touch. despite the darkness outside, the room felt cozy and inviting.

the walls were painted in a soft shade of white that reflected the gentle illumination, giving the room a soothing ambiance. large windows with open shutters allowed moonlight to filter in, casting ethereal shadows on the plush white carpet that covered the floor, creating a tranquil atmosphere.

against one wall, a queen-sized bed took center stage, dressed in luxurious white linens adorned with a subtle pink floral pattern. the pillows and duvet were arranged meticulously, and minjeong felt comfortable just looking at them. above the bed, a white canopy hung elegantly, swaying gently in the night breeze that filtered through the slightly open window.

on each side of the bed, a sleek white nightstand held a softly glowing lamp with a blush pink lampshade, casting a soft, warm light that illuminated the delicate features of the room. a small stack of books and a delicate vase of pale pink roses added a touch of elegance and serenity to the bedside decor.

across from the bed, a comfortable nook was decorated with an armchair upholstered in pale pink velvet, adorned with a fluffy throw blanket that spilled over the armrest. there was an acoustic guitar along with an electric keyboard. next to the instruments was a record player and white bookshelf that held several vinyl records inside of it.

she never would’ve taken you for a music enthusiast, but given who your sister was, it wasn’t too surprising.

near the window was where your desk stood, its surface adorned with a few personal items and a softly glowing pink himalayan salt lamp that emitted a soothing ambiance. above the desk, a gallery of framed art in shades of pink and white added a personal touch and a hint of sophistication to the tranquil space.

however, there was one photo that caught her eye – it was you and your sister. 

the blonde gently lifted the frame, studying the photograph with a soft smile. she admired the way your eyes crinkled at the corners, mirroring the joy reflected in your sister’s expression. you looked way younger, but it was clear from the photo how much your sister meant to you. it was still evident, even now.

it reminded her of how she once was with her brother.

as minjeong set the frame back down, her gaze drifted back to you, who stood nearby, watching her quietly with a soft smile playing on your lips. your hands were tucked behind your back, hiding something from her view.

“i have something for you,” you said gently, your voice carrying a hint of excitement as you brought your hands forward, revealing a pair of hello kitty pajama pants. “i accidentally ordered two, so we can wear these and match.”

amusement settled onto the blonde’s features as she took the spare pair from you with a small smile. “they’re definitely more your style, but i think they’re cute.” she said before she held them up for a better look, the soft fabric swaying slightly in her hands.

you grinned, feeling a rush of warmth at her acceptance. “you can rock them too, don’t worry. let’s change and get comfy.” you replied as you motioned towards the bathroom that was connected to your room. “the bathroom is there.”

minjeong nodded, and the two of you quickly changed into the matching pajamas. the president hated to admit it, but she did like the pants. as she settled back on the edge of your bed, she couldn’t help herself but stare at you while you brushed your hair at your vanity.

your hair fell over your shoulder in ways the blonde could swear were perfect. the way you, usually overdressed and complaining about the weather affecting your hair or your skin, could look so beautiful in hello kitty pajamas and slippers.

“i feel like i’m at a sleepover,” minjeong remarked with a chuckle, looking down at the adorable pattern on her pants. “well, it is our sleepover,” you replied, your eyes sparkling with excitement. “now,” you rose from your chair and grabbed her hand to pull you towards the bathroom. “it’s skin care time.”

minjeong followed you, a smile tugging at her lips. “skincare time, huh? when is bedtime?”

you grinned and gave her a playful eye roll as you replied to her over your shoulder. “soon. it’s barely 11.”

“you do know i’m usually asleep by 10, right?” the blonde replied, but you ignored her comment and gently pinched her hand. “consider this your night of indulgence,” you teased, leading her into the bathroom. 

minjeong chuckled, shaking her head slightly but clearly enjoying herself. “alright, alright. i trust you won’t give me chemical burns or something.”

in the bathroom, you laid out a variety of products, explaining each one to minjeong with enthusiasm. she listened attentively, clearly intrigued by your routine.

at least, she was trying to pay attention, but it was hard to do so when you were so close to her face.

minjeong’s eyes flickered to your lips for a brief moment before meeting your gaze again. there was a playful, yet tender look in her eyes that made your heart race. “okay, i’m ready,” she said softly.

you gently applied the cleanser to her face, your fingers grazing her skin with a light touch. “see, it’s not so bad,” you said with a smile.

the other girl closed her eyes, clearly enjoying the sensation. “you’re right, it feels nice. feels expensive.”

“jennie got it for me, so i'd definitely bet on it being more than expensive.” you chuckled while the blonde took another subtle glance at your lips.

as you moved on to the next step, you found yourself leaning in even closer, your focus entirely on her. the room was filled with the soft scent of the products and the quiet sounds of your movements. when you applied the toner, you felt her shiver slightly under your touch.

“cold?” you asked, your voice barely above a whisper.

“a little,” she admitted, her eyes opening to meet yours. “but it’s okay.”

you continued with the moisturizer, your fingers gently massaging it into her skin. minjeong’s eyes fluttered closed again, a content smile playing on her lips. the intimacy of the moment wasn’t lost on either of you.

once you finished, you stepped back to admire your work. “there, all done. how do you feel?”

minjeong opened her eyes, her gaze soft and appreciative. “amazing. thank you, y/n.”

you blushed under her intense stare, your heart pounding in your chest. “you’re welcome, minjeong.”

“do you want to sleep with me?” you asked on your way out of the bathroom. the blonde’s eyes opened wide and her jaw dropped slightly. “what?” she stuttered out, the sound causing you to turn around in confusion.

however, you quickly realized how you had worded your words.

“oh!” you exclaimed, “i meant like do you want to sleep here in my room or the guest room.” you rambled quickly, trying to explain yourself.

the president chuckled softly, a playful glint in her eyes. “oh, right. here is fine,” she replied with a warm smile, following you into the room. “as long as your sister won’t kill me in the morning.”

you chuckled, relieved that she took your clumsy phrasing in stride. “jennie won’t mind. she trusts you more than she trusts me.”

as you both settled onto the bed, there was comfortable silence that lingered between the two of you. however, you broke that silence after a few moments.

“i’m worried about finals.” you said in a voice barely above a whisper, eyes glued to the canopy above you. you had three final exams, which were all on friday, the last day of school. the blonde girl slowly turned her head to stare at your side profile, concern in both her irises and her heart. “you’ll do great, i know you will. i’ll help you get ready for them, too.”

your heart warmed at her supportive words, and you turned to face her, grateful for the reassuring presence beside you. “thank you, minjeong,” you replied sincerely, a small smile playing on your lips. “i appreciate that.”

she reached out and gently took your hand in hers, squeezing it gently while her heart raced against her chest. “i’ll be here to help you every step of the way.”

“but what about your finals?” you protested slightly, worried that the other girl would be too caught up in helping you that she would have no time to study for her own exams.

minjeong smiled reassuringly, her thumb brushing lightly over the back of your hand. “don’t worry about me. i’ve been studying since last week, and i’ll manage my time. besides,” she added with a gentle smile that reached her eyes, “helping you is just as important to me.”

you felt a surge of gratitude mixed with a touch of guilt. she had helped you so much this semester, and yet here she was, still willing to help you during the most important time.

“thank you,” you murmured sincerely, squeezing her hand in return. “i really appreciate it.”

her smile softened, and she leaned closer, her voice dropping to a whisper. “i want you to succeed, y/n. and i know you will.” the blonde hushed as she gently pulled you into her arms, the scent of your lotion and shampoo filling her senses.

you felt a rush of emotions as she gently pulled you into her arms, and you swore your heart was going to explode as it hammered. however, you could feel hers beating just as loudly once she fully pulled you in. her embrace was tender and supportive, just like you had always dreamed of it being.

resting against her, you felt a sense of calm settle over you. minjeong’s presence was a comfort to silence your nerves, easing the weight of impending exams and everything else that usually plagued your thoughts at this hour.

“now, let's get some rest. tomorrow, we tackle those exams together.”

“goodnight, minjeong.” you whispered as your eyes fluttered shut. you felt the blonde smile against you as she whispered back. “goodnight, y/n.”

but just as you were about to let sleep pull you under completely, you felt her lips pressing a feather-light kiss to your forehead.

𝗧𝗔𝗚𝗟𝗜𝗦𝗧: @silantryoo @forever-in-the-sky2 @rosiehrs @urfriendlylocalidiot @chaewonluvsme @zhivaxo @baebeefyburrito @jisooftme @winterlve @mina1vr @rgxjsss @uzumakioden @bexisbomb @tzuyuscloud @cwpiqwon @dream-chasers-things @demtions @sewiouslyz @jeindall777

@writingficsblog @ad0rechuu @lauxymy4 @awkwardtoafault @popstaryunjin @hibernatinghamster @tocupid @myothegreat @yerevies @alexxis10 @sighsam @ddeulgiheree @kikelikesmc @ddoxhan @justalittledissociation @jenaissantex @captivq @lea-pg @skisk1 @justme-idle @neuftaeng

CLOSED.

[4amarcanethoughts]

More of the Mage Viktor fic. Here's a snippet of doomed!Jayce waking up:

Viktor closed his eyes, unable to bear the sight.

“Have I finally succumbed to insanity?” He questioned the air. A hallucination, infrequent and frightening, but nothing more. Please let it be nothing more.

“Viktor…” A voice whispered, soft and certain. His breath caught.

“I suppose this must be my punishment. For disturbing you while you were at peace. Forgive me.” He cannot say his name, fearful for what might become of his mind if he accepted it as reality.

“Look at me, Viktor. It's me.” Warm hands cupped his face. Gentle, strong. So terribly, unmistakably alive.

“...I'm so tired, Jayce.” A tear escaped, rolling down his cheek, brushed away by a thumb.

“I know. You've fought for so long.” The thumb caressed the skin along his cheekbone. “You don't have to fight anymore. I'm here.”

[ahsoka-in-a-hood]

Free fic concept which is a trope I like: one of the jedi generals has a campaign go badly in a way they take the blame for and are politically disgraced for, so they lose their rank and go to the front lines as a low ranking trooper instead. They'd stick out like a sore thumb among the clones, of course, but life is full of unexpected twists and turns. Their old clone commander outranks them now. It's a bit awkward.

[neallo]

wait i'm copying monica. what fic do you all most associate me with / view as quintessential neallo...

[zeebreezin]

Before leaving for the Neath, to find his daughter’s killer, August Shaw told only one person: his wife. His letter was poorly worded, rambling, and utterly incoherent. Before leaving to complete his Ambition, heading into Parabola on a quest he does not think he will return from, Shaw did not want to make the same mistake. The following messages were addressed to (In order): @neathyingenue ‘s Silvia Salcedo, @gmalaart ‘s Emon Cavendish, @elleryhart ‘s Ellery , @viric-dreams ‘s Robin Jones, @letheology ‘s Mina Azoulai, @capn-twitchery ‘s Twitch, and @t6fs, here addressed as Logan.

[You haven’t heard from Shaw in several days, any mail you sent has gone unanswered. A letter arrives out of nowhere, written in his curling handwriting. The script is messy, blotted with ink and wine.] “Dear Silvia, I apologise for the state of myself as I write this, though you must understand that this message is of the utmost importance. The time for half truths and polite obfuscation is past, between us. I will not insult you by dancing around the truth. When I first came to London, I came with only one purpose: to avenge the death of my daughter, Lenore, and to meet my own end in the process. Since then, well. I’ve found something quite worth remaining for. I set off now to end what I have started, and I may not return. For that I am so, so sorry. You have become… so much to me, Silvia. In all your endeavours, I wish you the best. Your talent and passion for what is right has inspired me, and I’m sure you have inspired many. I am proud to consider you family, a bond not forged by blood but by ink and will. I… I hope you will be well. No matter what happens. If I do not return, know that I am deeply proud of you. Your Friend, August Shaw.”

- x - x -

[The letter does not arrive on paper. It is scrawled across the cosmogone sky, familiar handwriting curling across the surface of parabola like a rock skipping across the surface of a lake.] “My Dearest Emon, it rends my heart to know that I cannot send you this letter. I dare not post it, knowing the reflection that takes your place.” [A few words are heavily scratched out.] “I have no idea if I will see you again, you as I know you, vibrant and sharp and maddeningly brilliant. I wish, more than anything, you were at my side. If I return from the journey I now set out to take, know that I will find you. My window of opportunity is brief, and I cannot linger, though I know how selfish it must seem. I set off now to defeat the ghosts that haunt me, to lay my daughter to rest. When I began, I thought that this would be my undoing, a death I welcomed. Now, though. I must succeed. I will find you again, Emon. These words will reach you - they must. I have to return. Wherever you may be, know that… I will find you, my love. Yours, Always, August Shaw.”

- x - x -

[A stained letter is delivered to you by an anonymous urchin. It’s dated to a few days after you left on your trip… the handwriting is familiar.] “Dear Ellery Hart, I hope this letter reaches you well. I’ve scheduled it to be delivered as soon as you return, as its contents are quite important to me. Once you receive this, I will have already departed on a journey. I dare not tell you where I go, or why, but know that-” [A section of text is scratched out.] “I may not return. In such a case, I… Where do I begin? You’ve come so far in the time I’ve known you, Ellery. In all senses, I’m deeply proud of the man you’ve grown into. Wherever your path takes you after this hunt, I know you will do well. If this is goodbye, then know that I count you both amongst my finest pupils, and amongst my dearest friends. Hunt well, Ellery. Your Friend, August Shaw.”

- x - x -

[The dead drop has remained quiet for a while now. The next missive you receive from the Black Rook isn’t encoded, or tucked away - it’s left in your mailbox, like any other letter.] “Dear Jones, I apologise for the unorthodox - or perhaps more accurately, deeply orthodox - method of communication. This message has nothing to do with our work, though I understand if you dispose of it as if it was. Simply put, I am… leaving London, for a time. This journey is not one I had expected to return from for a long time, but I know that I will be fighting to return to the city now. Should all go wrong, well, I know that we have not always seen eye to eye. I know that I may never truly win back your trust, something that would be well within your rights. But I could not leave in good conscience without saying goodbye. The letters we used to send, as Suzette and Jacques, they provided me a great deal of light during my darkest days. After everything I am, in truth, not sure what to call us. But whatever you are to me, Robin Jones, I hope I get to see you again, once all this is over. Play Well, August Shaw.”

- x - x -

[Shaw hasn’t been at the university for a while, now. A letter is slipped into your desk when you return to Benthic, tucked neatly into the top drawer. No cipher, plain script - this isn’t a game.] “Dear Mina, I hope the Khante has been treating you well. I’m unsure as to when you’ll be back, and a part of me hopes that this letter will be quickly corrected by my presence at your door, but nevertheless. I’m setting off on a mission, you could say, one of great personal significance. One I am unsure if I will return from. In the case I… do not return, I leave my network to you, Mina. Take this letter to Demirkan, he will know what to do. …We can do great things with this Game we play. We have done great things. I trust you to carry on that, if I cannot. You have been a great friend to me, and a most trusted confidant. I can only hope that I do not betray that trust now. Your Friend, August Shaw.”

- x - x -

[A letter from your former protege arrives, carried by bat. It’s uncommon enough that he’s writing to you, but the contents of the letter are stranger still.] “Dear Captain Lazaret, I must apologise for the suddenness of this letter. I hope it finds you well, and in a space where you can read it without fearing immediate retribution. Though I know we only occasionally brush paths these days, it seemed unwise to not inform you of my current state of affairs. Simply put, Captain, I’m going to be away from London for some time, and I am unsure if I will ever see home waters again. For all my gripes and bristles (and indeed, all the years I fear you’ve taken off my life) I could not have become the man I am today without your guidance. I know I may have seemed ungrateful, but… well, thank you for all you taught me. And for all the times we have spent together, many of which were at the worst lows of my time down below. You are vexing, and caustic, and I dare say my days in London would be a great deal duller without knowing you. Let none of my sarcasm lead to you forgetting this fact, Captain - as you are indeed someone I owe a great deal of happiness to. I hope to see you again. Your Friend, August Shaw.”

- x - x -

[Shaw’s not home, when you return to London, but tonight, six apocyan eyes beckon you to the window. Laying out is a phonograph, one Nigel plays, though there’s no music recorded - just Shaw’s voice, thick with emotion.] “Logan, I- /ˈdæmɪt/, I hope this thing is working right. I hope you’re well? The Tomb Colonies, can be quite draining, I know. I… I’ve left this for you, as I didn’t quite trust my No`çuk" script, and… well, this is quite serious.” [A pause. The sound of drumming fingers on the table.] “This is harder to say than I thought, I, ah…” [A deep, shaky breath.] “The reason I first came to London was not a good one. My daughter had been- she had been taken from me. I came here for revenge, to find the one who’d… and, in all honesty, to lose myself in the process. Now, I’ve left to finish what I’ve started. If I do not return, I… Logan, you’ve become so dear to me. The kindness you’ve shown me, all of it… it is something I will never forget. You are impossible, magnificent… and I love you. Terribly so. What else is there to say?” [A laugh, clearly through tears.] “I will find you, if I make it back. I swear. Xïmo`tu`no` szokh, Muszhka`. If I can’t, I… no. I will. I love you, Logan.” [The recording ends there. Nigel offers it to you.]

- x - x -

[meimi-haneoka]

There's someone who's searching through my entire repertoire of posts of the last 6 years and liking (almost) all of them, lol

That's an honor and I bow down to your courage 🙇🏻‍♀️

There's no other site where you can get this experience, guaranteed 💯

[kindfrog]

inpired by the fic A Variable Star by twigcollins on ao3 (based on a scene from chapter 22)

This is my second time reading this fic and I 100% recommend it if you’re a fan of obi wan kenobi and canon divergent AUs

[mangotangerine]

shifting variables chapter 4 is being beta'd, chapter 15 of when boys grow up is in progress, and i cannot control myself so i've started writing 5 billion different other fics but i'm sinking most of my time into young-silco-is-a-revolutionary-and-he-ends-up-adopting-viktor-later. political intrigue! fluff! eventual vanco smut!

here is a snippet, below the cut:

young silco/eventual vanco fic snippet

Freedom is a lie. The concept of freedom is sweet, something to strive toward, beautiful and noble. But in practice—it is a lie. Everyone is a slave to their circumstance, the story of their entire life penned out for them before they even breathe their first breath. Where one is born determines where one will die, and how, and when.

Born to House Kiramman, and the path laid down before first steps can even be taken is paved in gold. Elsewhere in Piltover, the path may not be paved in gold, but it is still paved. Down here, though, where it’s filthy and cold and every moment a struggle—well, there are no paved streets down here. Any path forged is carved by bloody, blistered hands into the bedrock itself.

×

He’s sixteen and angry, the fight in him stuffed deep and tied up with chains, because anger has a price for boys like him. He can’t afford to let loose, to give in to the darkness that bubbles just below the surface, not without just cause, not without a reason. So he saves it for later, some indeterminate time in the future, and hopes it doesn’t eat him up before that moment arrives.

×

Later arrives, something kicked up nearby—enforcers, of course it’s enforcers, and what are they doing all the way down here? He slips his knife into his hands and he’s all bottled raged and barely-laced fury, a stick of dynamite ready to explode. He steps out of the alley, and all the fight bleeds out of him before he can do anything with it.

She’s sixteen and covered in bruises, dirty face streaked with tears, shaking as she screams at the retreating enforcers. She hurls a rock, a can, a glass bottle, all of them falling short, scattered and shattered on the uneven, rocky ground they stand on. She sees him, eyes darting to the knife and then to his face, and she holds out her hand with a defiant glare.

He passes the knife to her, and she hurls that at them, too, but they don’t even see it. They don’t look back once, laughing to themselves at the filthy little sumprat girl they decided to single out that day. The knife clatters on the ground, far short of where the glass shards of the bottle lay. She crouches down, curling up over her knees, not wanting to touch the ground with anything but her feet.

It’s a moment’s work to grab the knife and shove it back into its pocket. He can leave, now, really—there’s no reason to stick around. This kind of thing happens all the time to people like them, nothing new. He doesn’t owe her anything.

He stops in front of her, crouching down, and she lifts her head and looks at him with quicksilver eyes as sharp as the knife he holds.

“Don’t ask if I’m okay,” she spits. She rubs at her dirty face with dirty hands, letting out a shuddering sob, and he doesn’t ask. He stays there with her until the shaking stops, until her breath evens, and the next time she lifts her head, she brushes back strands of her purple hair and says, “I’m Felicia.”

“I’m Silco,” he says. She nods, stands, and holds out her hand to help Silco to his feet. He doesn’t need it—he’s taller than her, bigger than her, but he takes it anyway. She drops his hand the second he’s on his feet and he takes a step back, giving her space, and they watch each other warily for a long moment.

“You hungry?” she asks, and Silco makes a face.

“Are we in the undercity?” he responds, acerbic, and her laugh is like birdsong. “I know a guy,” she says, and she takes Silco’s hand, and she pulls him along with her.

[daltonsnightmare]

Ok I have an idea/weirdly specific au that I don't know when/if I'll ever do something with, so I'm gonna throw it out into the void (tumblr dashboard) and see where it goes:

(Contingent on two major changes: Jack lives, and Mac and Riley were abducted more than once for nanobot testing and were returned home without their knowledge)

After escaping the bomb that nearly took his life, Jack Dalton went into hiding, pouring everything he has in to taking Kovac down once and for all. With no team, no backup, and no way to communicate with his family back home, it's much easier said than done. (maybe he knows he'd have been declared KIA, maybe he has no idea)

After months of working from the shadows, hopping place to place, he finally manages to uncover the truth about Anya Vitez, and the whole operation being a front. [With the phoenix being shut down post s3 and operating under new management in s4 I think it would make sense nobody back home would know about the kovac mission being over/declared a success. maybe a bit of a stretch? idk just bear with me here]

While he found enough evidence to bring down Vitez and end the mission, he ended up getting a little more than he bargained for. Whispers of a sketchy US government experiment have popped up, and while Jack's suspicious, he just wants to get home and see his kids again- he's been gone for far too long.

As he makes his way back home, each new piece of information he hears is more concerning than the last. His various sources all claim something sinister is going on, something to do with tracking technology?

One of Jack's old CIA buddies who owes him a favor lets Jack stay with him at a secure facility before he flies back to LA. Left alone with his thoughts and clearance to go and do as he pleases, Jack can't ignore the niggling feeling at the back of his mind. His feet move on their own accord, and he finds himself outside a dark computer lab, monitors glowing dimly in the darkness.

A grin slowly makes its way across his face. Maybe he could get in touch with the Phoenix, check in on everyone. He'd been months without contact, he couldn't wait to see everyone again- they had so much to catch up on.

His mood dampened a bit when thinking about how Riley and Mac must have been doing, they always ribbed him good-naturedly during their check in calls. "Don't forget to call us back, old man!" They'd laugh.

(They tried to call once per week, but being on an undercover operation like this where connections are spotty at best, and risk giving away your position? It unfortunately couldn't always be done, such is the nature of the job.) He imagined their worried faces at the unexplained lengthy lack of contact and winced. Hopefully it'll all be smoothed over when he got back; he'll make it up to them. After all, he'd promised pizza and skee-ball, didn't he?

He sat himself down at the keyboard, and got to work setting up a secure message to Matty. While he wasn't particularly tech savvy (that was much more Riley's speed) he'd been doing this long enough to know how to get an encrypted message back to the barn.

His code didn't go through.

He frowned, thinking back to the last time that happened. While that mission in Amsterdam had certainly been a disaster, he at least saw being disavowed as a possibility. This time? He couldn't think of a single reason. What....what happened while he was gone?

Before he could dwell on that for too long, he noticed some of the file names on the computer desktop. His mind snapped back to the rumors of dubious experiments he heard about, and couldn't help the shiver that ran down his back. Did the room get colder?

He hovered over the file.

97V1G0H2_AM_Experiment#1.mp4

He hesitated. Jack glanced up at the clock. There were two hours until his friend would come back and retrieve him for takeoff.

His gaze wandered back to the file. There was another one just below it.

97V1G0H2_RD_Experiment#1.mp4

He sighed, weighing his options. Snooping in a government database wasn't something to be taken lightly, but he knew in his gut something was wrong. If he was being honest, he'd made his choice the moment he laid eyes on it.

He clicked play.

[perfectsunlight]

( 𝟮𝟳 ) ✏ 𝗯𝗹𝗼𝗻𝗱𝗲

𝘄𝗮𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴𝘀: none

𝗽𝗮𝗿𝘁 𝗼𝗳 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝘀𝗲𝗿𝗶𝗲𝘀: 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝘃𝗮𝗿𝗶𝗮𝗯𝗹𝗲

𝗧𝗔𝗚𝗟𝗜𝗦𝗧: @silantryoo @forever-in-the-sky2 @rosiehrs @urfriendlylocalidiot @chaewonluvsme @zhivaxo @baebeefyburrito @jisooftme @winterlve @mina1vr @rgxjsss @uzumakioden @bexisbomb @tzuyuscloud @cwpiqwon @dream-chasers-things @demtions @sewiouslyz @jeindall777

@writingficsblog @ad0rechuu @lauxymy4 @awkwardtoafault @popstaryunjin @hibernatinghamster @tocupid @myothegreat @yerevies @alexxis10 @sighsam @ddeulgiheree @kikelikesmc @ddoxhan @justalittledissociation @jenaissantex @captivq @lea-pg @skisk1 @justme-idle @neuftaeng

CLOSED.

[4amarcanethoughts]

I keep thinking about Mage Viktor

Imagine the number of Jayce's he's interacted with. Not every timeline ends with Jayce being brought to him by the anomaly. But each time it does only serves as a painful reminder of the man he lost. Who he will keep saving as a child again and again.

Now imagine one of the Jayce's entering the world ending timeline. The first to fall down the chasm. Mage Viktor hadn't predicted that outcome. He goes to check on him, albeit from afar. Until then the point of bringing him there was showing him the horrors of tampering with the arcane.

But Jayce doesn't survive the fall.

Viktor feels a devastation he didn't know he was still capable of feeling.

[essektheylyss]

Candela Obscura is very fun in terms of horror, because I have never been particularly bothered by horror, but when I have been, I'm always like, is this because of how I react in particular or because of how effective the visuals or the atmosphere are? And that's kind of hard to differentiate in the genre people most often consume horror in (film) and for me, who reads books very visually, it can be hard in that format as well.

With Candela it's like, this is deeply unsettling despite there being no visuals beyond the general set and the action being dictated to me while mechanics are happening, which is something that can take absolutely you out of the atmosphere of the thing. Even if you're used to the actual play format, a mechanics heavy scene especially without notable GM guiding is going to remind you that you are watching people play a game. There's a lot to say about how this show's cast have phenomenal grasp of the genre and the atmosphere, but even then, it is a hard line to manage, and they are doing it masterfully. And that's what makes it so fun as a concept! Candela has very effective storytelling, but it's also a lot easier to see the edges of the story, because the "man behind the curtain" of the story so to speak is on full display.

Anyway, this is a long-winded way of saying that I really have confirmed I have no issue with horror, because I passed out instantly upon going to bed and then let a lab tech take my blood this morning without even thinking of making some eldritch monster joke. Which is, not gonna lie, a little bit wild to me.

[ustalav]

the dumbest take I still see way too often is “I am so much better than the girlies reading erotica bc I read…. Fanfiction pwp”

[inkybirdy]

hey so what happened to the hero of the breach link?? because i am like, 99% certain that our Wolf Boy Link is different from the poor kid who had to kill Great-GrandGan

first of all, 'Great-GrandGan' is now how I'm going to refer to him in my brain forever so thank you -

secondly, you're correct! They're different characters! A couple notes on our assorted Previous Links (tm) and their statuses so far in the story below!

--

admittedly a good chunk of the backstory for the Hero of the Breach is coming up in the next chapter of the fic, which has. well, it's a work in progress. However, some stuff that has been speckled around the fic and the snippets I've posted around here and on Twitter -

The Hero of the Breach, were he alive, would be only a few years younger than Rova - he was a kid when she was getting into her teens.

While there isn't much clear about his earliest years, he was at one point taken in by Great-GrandGan (Phantom Ganon, Demise, however you wanna slice it) and his spouse amid the 'First' of the three detailed 'calamities' in the fic. At some point he received the Master Sword from the last Queen Zelda - and by the end of things, both Great-GrandGan and his spouse wound up dead.

However, the HotB stayed around with Rova as her adopted brother, and they were very close up until his death, sometime in his early teens.

Though of course, as per Legend of Zelda tradition - one 'Hero' being dead doesn't prevent them from having a rapport with another! For better or worse!

Wolf Link - the 'Hero of Fortune' is of Urbosa's generation, around the same age as her, Maz Koshia, Impa, and King Delphinus.

Again, not too much is known about his early years currently in the fic - but he was at least raised in part by the koroks and nature spirits of Hyrule, and the dragon Naydra has a familiarity with him. Wolf Link did not die as a teenager - rather, as a teen he wandered his way into life with Maz and his sister Keo in Kakariko. While he wasn't a servant to the Hyrule royal family like Maz and Keo, he ended up around them quite a bit by association, and eventually got his own hands on the Master Sword. (It wasn't a fun time for anybody, really, but when is it?)

Anyway - as it always does, the Master Sword comes with consequences or otherwise a good dose of fuckery, and at some point along the way Wolf Link began to encounter the Hero of the Breach.

Sometimes bombastically, other times like in a nightmare - and eventually, after he met his own end, perhaps as some kind of companion.

While the extent of his collaboration with Wolf Link, his purpose or truest form as a specter, isn't quite clear for now, what we know for certain - we certainly haven't yet seen the last of the Hero of the Breach.

[pocketramblr]

Man it has been FOREVER since I thought about the final exams but I was rewatching & im really mad all over again so sorry just ugh Denki & Minas is such bullshit even compared to Bakugou & Midoriyas cause they got the shit kicked out of them but they had OPTIONS & weren’t a clear set up to fail from the beginning. Like one path that lets you get out, no knowledge of that fact, opponent starts in a giant crane and you also don’t know that, neither of you have quirks well suited to being able to get a good area view or to your opponent. They really just made Denki & Mina Nezu’s personal stress ball with a fun don’t get crushed to death element. All Might went way overboard & I don’t contend that his test SUCKED & was AWFUL but at least he controls where his punches get thrown. After that wrecking ball hits Nezu does not control where the debris exactly falls, how fast either student runs or which way they choose to dodge. Like if you wanna go by their bullshit of we wanted to make the 2 lowest academically ranked students think I’d at least put them with like someone smarter to like takes notes from or some shit. Denki & Momo would work well bc she can protect herself from his quirk n they’ve worked together a couple times plus with the part of Momo’s arc of learning self confidence again Denki would’ve been good for that I mean he’s a generally nice supportive guy who notices small details abt his friends like his whole Bakugou speech, I think Mina & Izuku would actually be a nice match for this thing, having him work with someone far more self confident and that relies on instincts plus like would transition nicely to when she teaches him to dance later. Plus Mina clearly doesn’t like overburdening people she works with like idk. Have a nice day

Yeah I've talked about the issues with the Mina and Denki exam but I've never thought about rearranging them in other teams, just other opponents. But huh, that Momo and Denki switch really could be a good opportunity for them...

[goldeneyedgirl]

Ficmas24 Christmas Eve: Variable Stars

Happy Christmas Eve everyone! Gosh it's gone fast.

Tonight, I've decided on the first section of the new chapter of Variable Stars. Why? Because it's been a flustercluck of a day and I'm still not happy with part two of the STL AU.

I also have five other requests to work through, so there will be some random snippet drops in the new year ;) Plus NYE fic is a tradtional part of Ficmas.

But for now, Variable Stars. I cannot wait to post this entire chapter, I'm really excited with the 'new' direction that this fic is taking.

I hope your holidays are beautiful, loving, and restful and that you all get to indulge in your favourite foods with your favourite people!

most wanted. It’s the ice forming in the river again that reminds her that time is passing.

It's easy to forget; she assumes it’s the same for all of them - a lack of sleep and of change means that everything falls together in the end. But she should ask Jasper, in case that’s another one of the things that makes her different.

(There have been a few things over the years, that have made everyone pause and look at her like she’s from another planet. Now she checks with Jasper about the things she’s not sure about, just so she doesn��t seem foolish.)

But whether or not time passing feels the same for all the Cullens, it has passed and things have changed. She’s really not sure when it happened.

When it stopped being the Cullens’ house and it stopped being Jasper’s house and it started being hers too. When she started seeing her own face in the photographs on the walls; when the other family members called for her, and she wasn’t just an extension of Jasper.

She knows the house - which step is cracked because one of them stepped down too hard (there’s been a lot of damage lately, so they’re all gingerly avoiding it in the hopes it can hold out a few weeks so that Esme doesn’t get too mad); which bathroom never has hot water after midnight. That Carlisle moved all the travel books from the top-most shelves in the library down to her eye-level so she could take them without lingering. And that the refrigerator - full of Carlisle’s samples and experiments - always lets out something like a sigh around three in the morning, as if exhausted.

She knows that Esme is fiercely protective of her garden - that the stepping-stones are there for a reason, and that most days, Esme values the lives of her rose bushes more than any of them. There’s a greenhouse that’s about to be built so Esme can protect her more precious plants (Emmett and Bella are already forbidden from entering the hallowed halls). And in the years that she’s been with them, she’s never ever heard Esme say a cruel word to any of them.

Bella sulks if anyone is in the hammock when she wants to use it. (She also knows that Emmett and Rose are banned from the hammock because of what they did to the last one.) Edward’s piano in the side room - the music room - was his human mother’s, and it’s the thing he prizes more than anything else he owns.

Carlisle has a strange relationship with his father’s crucifix, seeing it as a symbol of all that he resented from his father but also a symbol of forgiveness and betterment in his own life. Emmett keeps a worn, hazy photograph of his youngest human brother in a frame in the room he shares with Rosalie - the only memento he has from his first life.

(She could say what she knows about Jasper, but that’s everything; it’s woven into the fabric of her universe. He’s her very best friend. She knows him. The scar he worries at on the palm of his hand when he’s thinking; the way his left pupil dilates just before he has a flashback. The way he hunches over to read and write - he probably needed glasses as a human. The way he holds her, so tight, like she’s going to be torn away… She knows him, right down to the bone, the same way she knows herself.)

Peace is a funny thing; it feels steady and solid but she’s so intensely aware of how easily it could shatter; like the ice in the river. Eight vampires in one place is a recipe for disaster; she never forgets that, even if it feels like the others do. But for now, she just savours every single moment.

It’s home. She’s finally home.

—

Once, a long time ago, Jasper sat on a bucket outside a dilapidated mansion in Monterrey and watched the sunrise.

Peter, his brother in all the ways that mattered, was long gone with the girl he proclaimed he loved. That he cared about enough to risk it all in whatever hell on earth lay beyond the borders of Maria’s territory.

And those parting words he left Jasper with lingered in the air. Can’t you tell, Major? That I’m telling the truth? That I love her? The look of horror and pity on Peter’s face stayed with him as well. The words cut deep because he couldn’t. He was too far gone, too sunken into depression and violence and control, too used to lies and double-speak to trust anything that he was being told.

Peter ran. He was glad he did. If he hadn’t destroyed Charlotte that night, she wouldn’t have survived much longer - not after her newborn strength ebbed.

But he remembers sitting there, watching the sunrise, and hoping that his brother was out there, safe. He remembers sitting there, feeling hollow and brittle, and wondering if there was anything else. From one war to another, it all blurred together until he was nothing but a machine designed to spill blood, to break bones, and leave behind a trail of bodies. There was nothing soft or kind about this life, and it was… he was just so tired, and it never seemed to end. There was no way out except the pyres. And every single part of him would resist that until the last moment. That’s just who he was.

There was never any hope for him.

Except…

“Jasper!”

Alice is there, stepping onto a stack of books, onto the arm of his couch, and then plopping down beside him. There’s something about her, about the way she’s here, wearing leggings and one of Bella’s t-shirts with socks pulled over the cuffs of her pants. She smells like home, like ozone and honey as always. There’s the warm halo of her emotions, of contentment and affection and protectiveness that seeps into him like the warmth of the sun.

“Emmett is insisting that he needs to teach me poker, and I don’t trust him at all.” Her eyes dart with amusement, the cards shuffling between her hands. “Esme said it’s a dollar buy-in only because of whatever happened in South Dakota? No one will tell me what happened. Come protect me?”

She doesn’t even have to ask. Alice is possessive over her small amount of savings, determined to figure out the stock market and investing so that she doesn’t have to ask anyone for money. He understands, thinks it’s important even, that she has her own foundation and security. But he’s going to miss her hunched over his computer, bossily informing him which items she wants to order. And the hugs when he relinquished his credit cards without protest.

“Just try and stop me - we can split the profits,” he says, and she beams at him. He’s reaching out to help her up the second she reaches out to him.

(And he wants to go back to his old self sitting in the dirt with no light at the end of the tunnel, and tell him it’s gonna be okay. That all the pieces are going to come together. He’s going to have a family, a place that is quiet and calm, a place without death and fighting and bodies. Peter and Charlotte are going to forgive him. And he’s going to have a person of his own, someone who makes him feel solid and whole and at peace. That he’s never known the security of another person until he met Alice. That if he reaches out, she will reach back without missing a beat. That if he has to throw a punch at someone, she’ll be right there to throw the next one. That he just has to hold on a little longer, keep putting one foot in front of the other, and everything will be better than fine. It’ll be everything he ever wanted, even the things he didn’t know to want.)

He follows Alice down the stairs, grinning as she begins taunting Emmett, the deck of cards flickering from hand to hand, like some kind of a magic trick.

(It’ll be perfect.)