#well it is about writing but it's not a snippet or anything

[roguishcat]

Snippet Monday

❤️Thank you very much for tagging me @ghost-of-a-dream-girl, @busy-baker and @xxnashiraxx! ❤️

This is something I've started working on for the 300 followers celebration for @pursuitseternal - a Magistrate Astarion x Reader one-shot where Astarion was never turned! Such a brilliant idea, thank you so much!

So, basically this has all the events of BG3 but Astarion is an elf. And the one-shot takes place post-game. So far, I think I have a general idea of what I'm going to write, so hopefully this is something along the lines of what you would like it to be!

The afternoon sunlight brushed warmly against your cheek as you enjoyed a rare moment of peace. Instead of running around Baldur's Gate, fixing buildings, helping those in need, the Hero of the Gate for once decided to read a newspaper in a park. Something quite mundane for some, a rare luxury for you.

You were not slacking. But you have come to realise that in your bid to please everyone you would soon completely burn out. Which is why you didn’t feel a smidge of guilt when you found yourself going to Bloomridge park instead of the Upper City.

Not having to make any decisions and just simply be for an hour felt absolutely heavenly. Children played, the members of the book club gossiped, and couples whispered among themselves. This was exactly what you loved about this city. No matter how much havoc was wrought, Baldur's Gate healed rapidly and would soon be back to its former glory.

You cast your eyes over the articles in the newspaper. Nothing special, thank the gods. Just silly gossip and the like. You quickly looked through it and gave a happy sigh. No news was always good news in your books!

Yet, no matter how pleasant this little break was, you were well aware that your assistance was needed at ten odd locations today. It was time to get back to work.

Getting up, you looked at the newspaper in your hands and decided that perhaps someone would enjoy reading it. Afterall, there was hardly any reason for you to take the paper with you. And leaving it behind would probably save some poor student a copper. Thus assured that you were doing no harm, you folded the newspaper up neatly and set it down on the park bench for another to enjoy.

Just as you were about to walk away, you heard someone clear their throat loudly.

"What do you think you are doing?"

It was one of the Fists. You didn't recognise him. Perhaps it was a new recruit, seeing as otherwise he would have known who you were.

"Excuse me?"

"You are littering," he stated, pointing to the newspaper with an accusatory finger.

Ah, so a simple misunderstanding.

"I am not littering,” you smiled pleasantly, in spite of feeling that it was rather strange of the Fist to worry about something as inconsequential as litter out of all things. “Just thought someone else might enjoy reading the paper now that I'm done with it."

The Fist did not look impressed by your explanation. In fact, if anything he seemed even more set in his belief that a heinous crime was being committed in broad daylight.

"I am arresting you for littering in a public garden," he seemed to think about it for a moment. "And for arguing with a city guard."

"I've hardly said any-"

"Resisting arrest, are we?" he drawled, making your mouth tighten as you bit back a snarky retort.

"No, I will come with you willingly," you grumbled.

Perhaps if you played along for a bit, you could talk to someone of a higher rank. Saying anything to an overly eager guard who was obstinately sticking to his accusations would just attract onlookers.

"Good. The judge is waiting for your arrival."

"What? What do you mean judge?" you frowned. What business did any judge have looking into misdemeanours and especially something like littering?

"His Honor judge Ancunín is waiting for you. Don't dawdle. It's rude to keep him waiting."

Suddenly all of this made sense. You ground your teeth and followed the Fist. Of course it was Astarion! That ass!

"Oh, trust me. Him waiting for me will be the least of his worries once I see him."

He couldn’t just come by the tavern and talk to you like someone normal. No, he needed a show of power, especially with him being promoted to judge in high court! Because apparently this was how Astarion got his kicks nowadays. He needed for you to be near forcibly escorted to the courtroom and thrown at his feet. Preferably pleading for mercy and asking him if there was any way that you could make it up to him.

You scowled. The whole scenario just sounded like the plot of some cheap, third-rate smutty novel one would pick up at Sharess'. But if he thought that he you would cower before him, that elf had another thing coming!

No pressure tags: @clazberryk, @inkymoonbunny,

@preciouslittlebhaalbae, @lanafofana, @marlowethebard,

@honeybee-bard, @fangbangerghoul

[hufflepuffwritingstuff2]

Author Update

Hey guys, I'm sorry for not having any new material posted. These last few weeks have been pretty hectic and rough, and finding time or motivation to write has been pretty challenging. I hope to have something posted soon. I can't make any guarantees when that'll be, but I really appreciate your patience through all this!

[redo-rewind-if]

Sure MC, that seems like a sound decision! I'm sure whatever they might be doing here will work out exactly as intended. 🤡

[wizardofarles]

Sneak Peek of LYKMC Chapter 14

Auguste didn’t emerge from his room again until Friday evening. Laurent was curled up on an armchair in the library with a book in hand when Auguste clamored down the stairs in his boots. He always made so much noise. Laurent had grown used to a quiet house in his absence. It was still jarring every time Auguste crashed through the house like he wasn’t afraid to be heard.

Laurent caught a glimpse of him through the open doorway as he dashed through the foyer—just a tall blur of denim and worn black leather, and a flash of tousled golden hair. He might have been wearing the same clothes as yesterday, but it was hard to tell. Ever since he’d found it in the attic Auguste wore that motorcycle jacket like a second skin.

He heard the front door burst open—

“Auguste.”

—and close again.

“Uncle,” Auguste said, sounding chastised. “I was just heading out.”

“Where are you going?” Uncle’s tone was smooth and light, but slippery like ice. Laurent sensed the danger in it, even if Auguste did not.

“Just out with Jord,” Auguste answered as Laurent crept up out of his chair and peered around the doorframe.

Auguste’s back was to him, one hand still gripping the handle of the front door. Leaning against the back of the couch in the living room with his ankles crossed was Uncle, regarding Auguste over the rim of a glass of wine he was swirling beneath his nose. He looked comfortable, like he’d been lounging there a while, staring out the entryway to the foyer just waiting to catch Auguste on his way out.

“Jord? Now, there’s a name I haven’t heard in a while.” Uncle didn’t seem to see Laurent across the hall. His eyes were on Auguste. “Is everything all right between the two of you?”

“Yeah,” Auguste said brightly, “everything’s fine.”

“Will you be home for dinner? I’ve invited Torveld.”

Auguste hesitated. “I don’t think so, sorry.”

“That’s a shame.”

“Give him my best, though.”

“I will. I know how fond he is of you boys.” Uncle raised his wine glass to his lips. As it caught the light from the window and flashed a red wink, his eyes flicked to Laurent.

Laurent ducked back behind the wall, heart exploding in his chest. Auguste and Uncle were still talking in the foyer, but he could no longer make out their words over the drum of his own heartbeat.

By the time his pulse had slowed enough for his heartbeat to retreat from his ears, he heard the front door close. The following silence that crept in like the tide told him that Auguste was gone.

“Laurent.” Uncle’s voice was calm; he did not shout his name, but Laurent flinched as though he had.

He emerged from the library, reluctant to part from the wall which shielded him, but too afraid to ignore his uncle. There was nothing to be gained from stoking his anger; better to face the punishment he was about to receive for eavesdropping than to add disrespect and disobedience to his list of sins.

When Laurent lifted his gaze and mustered the courage to look his uncle in the eye, he did not see the anger he’d expected there. Instead, his uncle’s eyes were bright with mischief. He tapped Laurent under the chin with his knuckle and offered him a conspiratorial smile. “Your brother always looks so guilty when he lies.”

Laurent blinked back his confusion, like trying to adjust his eyes to a sudden change in the light. “You just let him lie to your face,” he said slowly. “Why?”

“My dear,” Uncle said with a twinkle in his eye, “if I revealed every time I knew he was lying to me, I would only be helping him learn to hide his lies.”

Something shifted uneasily in Laurent’s stomach. Does he know when I’m lying too? Uncle had risen to his feet as he was speaking and was now standing very close to Laurent, his head bent to his level. The thick, sour scent of red wine on his breath was suffocating. Laurent angled his face away, searching for clean air, but Uncle’s wine glass appeared under his nose.

“Have some wine, Laurent. You look pale.”

Laurent took the offered glass and slowly raised it to his lips, trying not to inhale through his nose. He usually liked wine; especially the fancy reds Uncle would let him try when they were alone. He didn’t know why this particular glass was so repulsive to him. He took a small sip, careful not to grimace as it went down.

Uncle did not take the glass back when Laurent tried to hand it to him. He stared at Laurent with a mild expression, quirked an eyebrow ever so slightly, and waited. Laurent looked down into the burgundy depths of the glass in his hand. Before he had a chance to lose his resolve, he tipped the contents into his mouth, draining the glass. He had to fight against his gag reflex to swallow it.

Satisfied, Uncle took the empty glass from his hand, set it down on a side table and smiled at him. A warm flush was creeping up Laurent’s neck and onto his cheeks.

Then the amusement drained from Uncle’s eyes, and he expelled a deep sigh. “I worry about your brother. He’s not well. You saw how he was last night. I just wish I knew who he’s really seeing when he goes out. I hope he’s not putting himself in danger.”

Laurent chewed his lip, momentarily forgetting how much Uncle hated that habit. “There must be something we can do to help him.”

“Torveld is attracted to you.”

The words hit Laurent like a slap, blindsiding him. It was not even a statement he could deny. His uncle had seen them together at his birthday party. He looked down at his hands, where he began picking at a tender hangnail.

Uncle said, “He will try to come on to you this evening at dinner.”

“I won’t do anything to encourage him,” Laurent scrambled to say, “I promise. I’ll tell him I don’t see him that way.”

Uncle clicked his tongue. “That would be rather awkward. I’ve given Torveld my blessing.”

“I … don’t understand.”

Was the room spinning just a little? Laurent wasn’t usually this much of a lightweight. Maybe it was because he’d skipped breakfast again. He tried to take a step backwards and stumbled. Uncle placed his hands on Laurent’s shoulders to steady him.

“All you need to do is play along,” Uncle said. “That is, if you’re sincere about wanting to help your brother.”

[zedif-y]

there are times when you write something and it's not your best , but somewhere out there whether you know it or not you just made someone really happy. so it's worth it i think

[fictionadventurer]

The eternal struggle between wanting to talk to you all about my story ideas and knowing that if I don't keep this totally to myself I will never get it written.

[jessicas-pi]

If you haven't already done it......for the WIP ask game, "A Friend in Need (of Therapy and Maybe a Nap) 😊

okay this is perhaps THEE crackiest thing I've ever written. It's part of the Problem Children AU, where Obi-Wan and Ventress both have apprentices. This fic in the AU is, basically, the TCW episode A Friend In Need, except Obi-Wan's Padawan Jadan and Ventress's apprentice Esme are also there, and everyone is really bad at lying, and also Lux needs therapy. and a nap. as the title implies.

A snippet, for you!

“Who's she?” the Mandalorian demanded, nodding at Ahsoka. Ahsoka, Jadan, and Lux answered all at the same time. “I'm his betrothed.” “She's his bodyguard.” “She's my pilot.” “I mean, his pilot.” “His betrothed.” “My bodyguard.” “Ummm...” In the following silence, the wind blew, awkwardly, if wind could be said to blow awkwardly. Everyone was looking at Ahsoka, who answered. “I mean, I'm his bodyguard and, uh, also his pilot? And the, uh, the betrothal is, um, unofficial? Like, it's, uh, it's... a thing, but not a thing, but, like, I'm mostly his pilot. I fly ships. Flying ships is a thing that I do. Also bodyguard-ing. Yep!” She grinned. Esme facepalmed. “And what about him?” asked the Mandalorian, pointing to Jadan. “I'm her brother.” Another awkward silence. The Mandalorian looked pointedly from the Togruta to the Mirialin and back. “Uh, her... half-brother. We have... different... dads.” Esme muttered a string of Dathomiri curses. “And who is she?” “I'm just here because they kidnapped me,” Esme answered, which was the first true thing any of them had said. It was also unhelpful, so thanks, Esme. Thank you so much.

[aroaessidhe]

2023 reads // twitter thread

Zombabe

paranormal YA set in a small town in 2003 where weird things happen that mostly get ignored

a boy is resurrected by his best friend after dying just before graduation. but he’s maybe a zombie now and if he ignores his hunger for flesh an ancient evil might start causing bigger problems

thankfully one of his friends’ aunt is a cop who has no problem helping get rid of some of the local nazis

queer teen friend group, m/m

[shadow-pixelle]

Last Line Challenge

Rules: Make a new post and post the latest line in your WIP & tag as many people as there are words (or as many as you feel like). 

I got tagged by @shootingstarpilot for this, which is very neat. Never actually done one of these before properly, so I'mma share two different last sections; some from my current in-progress Big Fic, and then some from the last thing I actually wrote.

(Under a cut because two snippets is gonna be long.)

So first off, the last thing I actually wrote;

'“Jesus.” Tim muttered. “I sort of wish I hadn’t asked, now.”

Phantom flushed, going slightly green. “Sorry.”

“Hey, better to know than not, isn’t it? If there’s a chance of running into stuff like this?”

“I- well, yes, but it’s not your job to deal with them.”

“Yeah, well, the magic users in the League aren’t always gonna be around, and even if it’s your job to come grab them, they might still need delaying or whatever.” Tim shrugged. “So I’d rather know.”

“That’s fair.” Phantom admitted, shifting to lean back in his seat. “So. Anything else you want to know?”'

I'm not 100% sure what's going to happen to this, admittedly, but this is the end result of my attentive deficit muse getting into two new-old fandoms recently so there we go. It's DC/Danny Phantom.

Anyway, second off, the last little bit of my current main project, which has been going on-and-off for a while;

'

“Huh.” Fox says, after a few attempts that die before he manages to get a word out. “Ok. Right. Ghost let me go so I can go hug my vod, please.”

Ghost does not let Fox go, and instead after a moment the entire mass of darkness lifts up into the air and floats over the group to place Fox down next to Ponds. Then it vanishes, and Fox promptly grabs on to him while the rest of the batch crowd around.'

This one's a crossover too, the end result of me just deciding that Weird Eldritch Things Are Neat, Actually and starting writing without thinking. It's now 15 chapters and like, 60k words, not quite done, but also hit a roadblock recently in the form of the aforementioned 'falling into new-old fandoms again' thing. It's Star Wars/Hollow Knight.

checks my people list uuuuuh right I don't have many people to tag really... @kalicofox is my main writing buddy, so here you go, and then I guess anyone else who sees this and feels like doing it can go ahead as well? No pressure, of course, there's a lot going on.

[where-is-vivian]

[orcelito]

rereading old thoughts & plans about the Mamakechi Lives au i had going a year ago now & being like "wow this is rly good actually, i should continue this" but knowing i have two other WIPs that i posted a first chapter for but have not touched since bc i am focused on my main thing, discacc, so everything else gets overall neglected

... but also. it's genuinely pretty good

lsdjfslkdfj for the hell of it i'll post the intro i wrote to it here . uh . you're welcome?

Akechi Goro lived by five undeniable truths.  One. The world at large was trash.  Selfishness ran rampant amongst the rich and the poor alike. While the rich hoarded their wealth, laughing at all who dared to be born common, the poor fought tooth and nail for any scrap of affluence they could get their pathetic hands on. Like crabs in a bucket - when one rose up, another would tug them down. Two. Success was everything.  In a society that valued productivity above human lives, to be less than perfect was to commit the worst mortal sin. Those who didn't meet society's expectations were fated to live in poverty and suffering. If one wanted to avoid that fate, they could be nothing less than the best. Three. Friends were useless.  Idealistic stories loved to enthuse about the 'power of friendship', but it was all empty. Pointless. Not once had Goro needed something as pathetic as friends. While others cried at being 'lonely', he spent his time being productive. The idea of friendship was simply a distraction - nothing more and nothing less.  Four. No one would help him. In his nearly 18 years of life, Goro had grown to accept that his life was his responsibility and his alone. Teachers tutted behind his back about how unfortunate he was, while peers mocked him for his ratty clothes. No one ever extended a hand to help him… but it was all the same to him. He didn't need their help. Five. His mother was his reason for living, just as he was hers.  Akechi Shiori was the embodiment of everything that society hated. A single mother, a former sex worker, a sufferer of mental illness and a survivor of attempted suicide. The world did its best to hammer her into the ground, but she never truly gave in. She never would, so long as she had her precious Goro… And she always would. He loved her like he loved no one else. Everything he was, everything he strived for, was for her sake alone. He would capture success so he could give her the life she was denied. He would support her so she could wake up one day after another with a smile.  She was everything to him, just like he was to her. 

[apocalypticdemon]

wondering out loud, but do people usually post snippets from fics they're working on just apropos of nothing? is this a thing that's normal? i feel like i've seen it done, but i'm unsure if that's typical or not

[tibby-art]

hitman au save me .. its been seven years ..

haven’t been able to draw/write much of this au lately but i want to write a few little scene snippets i have stored my brain :’D ill include them under cut

=+=

“This better be something good,” Scar muttered to Cub as they stepped out of the elevator. The hitman, while bound to his contract, considered ‘boring’ missions to be a waste of his time.

“I hope so,” Cub hummed. “Hope so.”

The ConVex swung open the doors to the NHO conference room, not bothering to check if their bosses were actually ready for their meeting.

“Holy mother of—! Knock next time, will you?” A man setting files down on the conference table jumped visibly as the doors slammed open.

“The Vex require a dramatic entrance, Beef,” Scar said casually. Cub snickered.

“Sure, whatever.” Beef furrowed his brow, used to this behavior. He didn’t have time for this. “Okay. Doc was supposed to do this briefing, but he’s busy with his machines I guess, because of course he is, so.” He huffed, composing himself. “Your new top-secret project. This one’s a doozy. Have a look.”

Beef slid the folder across the table. The hitmen flipped it open, absorbing its contents with hungry eyes.

What caught their eyes immediately were the photos. The person of interest looked nothing like a powerful crime boss or a dangerous anomaly. A young adult with glasses, dark eyes and short, sandy brown hair stared back at them.

“Who’s this?” Scar raised an eyebrow. Is the NHO asking them to assassinate some normal-looking university student?

“That is Grian,” Beef explained, both hands planted firmly on the table. “Grian has been with us at the NHO for months.”

“I’ve never seen him before,” Scar remarked.

“Grian’s case is top-secret. He’s been staying in high-security, private quarters… as well as our research laboratories.”

“I thought you guys seemed super suspicious lately! I knew they were hiding something from us, Cub,” Scar nudged his partner with a grin. Cub did not budge as his sharp eyes combed through the documents. He hadn’t heard a single word spoken to him.

“Cub? What’s the deal?” Scar asked. He preferred to let Cub read their mission files and summarize it for him, anyways. Dyslexia and top-secret government files were not a great mix. Oh, what would he do without Cub?

“Watchers?” Cub finally spoke, looking up at Beef with a quizzical frown. The other man nodded slowly. “You’re kidding.”

“After months of testing and analysis, we can confirm that this individual is the only currently documented case of a mortal possessing Watcher abilities,” Beef nodded slowly.

Scar had heard whispers of the Watchers only a handful of times. As a vex, he knew plenty about the realm of magic, the divine, the fae, you name it! But Watchers were said to be ancient entities, perhaps as old as time itself. So old that they were widely considered to be a myth.

“So this is not a hit,” Scar said after a moment.

“This is not a hit, Scar, good lord, do not kill this person,” Beef put both hands on his forehead and let them slowly drag down his face.

“Mortal, you say?” Cub raised an eyebrow.

“Yep,” Beef said. “She was a completely normal citizen until he got these abilities in some freak accident. Lucky for everyone involved, the NHO was able to take control of the situation before anything… dangerous happened.”

“So,” Scar narrowed his eyes slightly, “If this isn’t a hit, then what do you want from us?”

Beef sighed. “After months of testing to determine Grian’s situation, the NHO has decided that he is too important to return to life as a normal citizen at this time. Instead, we’d like to utilize his abilities in our goals to maintain order in Hermit City, and we need someone to train her how to be a special agent in the field.”

“You want the ConVex to train a Watcher how to be a hitman,” Cub said with a slight smirk at just how insane that sounded.

“Yep.”

“Huh.” Scar put both hands on his hips. “Well, that’s not what I was expecting.”

“I suppose we could give it a shot,” Cub said. Although the ConVex were bound by a fae contract to work for the NHO, the vex took every opportunity to feign control over their situation. There was no choice here. Beef had given them an order.

“Sure, sure! We are very good at our jobs, after all,” Scar grinned. Whatever happened, good or bad, would at least be entertaining, surely.

“You’ll come back here to meet her tomorrow morning,” Beef instructed. “Hand me that file back and be here by 9, will you?”

“Sure thing,” Cub replied coolly, sliding the file back to the man. Scar couldn’t help but grin wider when he noticed Cub’s hand casually in his pants pocket, some folded white paper barely visible in his grip.

“Don’t be late. I’m serious this time,” Beef called out as the hitmen turned and exited the conference room.

=+=

The conference room was tense that morning. Towards the end of the table sat the NHO - Beef, Doc, Etho, and Bdubs. On one side sat Cub and Scar. Across from them, Grian sat alone.

“So, how about introductions?” Doc clapped his hands together. “Er… Cub and Scar, this is Grian. Grian, this is Cub and Scar. You guys already know the deal. Grian is going to come with you on missions from now on.”

The ConVex hadn’t taken their eyes off of Grian since they entered the room, unable to resist their curiosity. They had both read the files, but still found it hard to believe the person before them was a Watcher. Grian sat rigid in his chair, fiddling with his hands, looking tense and exhausted. She eyed the vex curiously as well.

“Well hello there,” Scar greeted. “I’m Scar, and this is Cub.”

“Hey, hey,” Cub said quietly.

“Hello,” The corner of Grian’s mouth twitched in a possible attempt at a smile.

The three continued to stare at each other until Bdubs cleared his throat.

“Wonderful introduction. Now that we’ve broken the ice, let’s talk about your next mission.” The man picked up a small remote, and the large screen on the wall behind them illuminated.

“Before we send our agents out into the field, we meet like this to discuss the details and ensure that the mission is clearly understood,” Doc explained to Grian, throwing a disapproving glare in the ConVex’s direction.

A lengthy file on some high-profile criminal appeared on the screen, as Bdubs proceeded to read off the information. Scar slumped back in his chair. These mission briefings were the worst. It was time to zone out and have Cub tell him the details later with all the fluff cut out.

At about ten minutes in, Scar yawned absentmindedly.

“Oh, are we boring you, sir?” Doc interrupted Bdubs to shoot a piercing stare at Scar.

“Oh, not at all!” Scar said cheerfully, but slumping in his chair slightly lower.

“As I was saying,” Bdubs continued loudly.

Scar glanced over at Grian. Her eyes quickly darted back to the presentation when they made eye contact. Scar looked over at Cub and found he had still not taken his eyes off of Grian. Hopefully Cub was at least somewhat paying attention, because he sure wasn’t.

Grian continued to fidget with his hands. Scar felt a pang of pity for him. The vex were used to this sort of environment, but according to the NHO, Grian had a completely normal life up until a few months ago. Now suddenly, he gains these terrifying powers and spends months in a top-secret lab having tests run on her all day. Who wouldn’t be overwhelmed?

Scar yawned again, this time more intentionally. He earned another death glare from Doc, but Bdubs droned on. He glanced over and saw Grian rubbing a hand on his cheek to help hide a grin.

The art of annoying your boss was a delicate one. Timing is everything. Let enough time pass until they’ve forgotten, or they think you’ve stopped, to continue the game. Scar lets about ten minutes pass before his next yawn, bigger this time.

“Quit it,” Beef hissed. Even Etho glanced over. Doc kept his eyes on the screen, but his jaw was clenched. Grian let out a cough that sounded suspiciously like a laugh.

Five minutes later, Cub clears his throat rather loudly. Bdubs stutters over his words for a second, but because Cub is Cub, none of the NHO seems to be able to tell if that was a deliberate cough or not, and they decide to ignore it. Cub shows no emotion.

After an hour that felt like an eternity of Bdubs explaining every possible detail about the case, it seemed to be almost concluded. That was, until a rather loud yawn was heard throughout the conference room.

“WILL YOU LET ME FINISH, FOR GOODNESS SAKE?!” Bdubs finally erupted, whipping around in his chair to face Cub and Scar.

The hitmen stared back blankly. They glanced over across the table, and Bdubs followed their gaze, where Grian sat with both arms over her head in a large stretch.

“Sorry,” Grian said simply when all eyes were on him, lowering his arms. “Just had to stretch a bit.” He stared back at Bdubs innocently.

The NHO stood there, confused. Bdubs was at a loss for words, unable to get a read on the new recruit. He sighed and turned back to the screen. “Well, regardless, I think we’ve about summed things up,” he grumbled.

Scar made eye contact with Grian once again. The two cracked a smile at one another for a second, too quick for the NHO to notice.

Scar had a feeling that him, Cub and Grian were going to get along just fine.

=+=

[trashno0dle]

so there's a lot of speculation whether or not they're gonna have mike be michael or not in the fnaf movie. and so far even i thought it was pretty unlikely considering the little things we've been shown. but now that the full trailers been revealed there's something that caught my eye. and maybe i'm puling a matpat here and over analyzing one little frame but. just hear me out alright. so in the little snippet we see of a phone call between mike and william, it's pretty normal and well, there's nothing to show that they know each other. clearly mike doesn't know who he's talking to, he just wants a job.

and honestly for me i was losing hope that they were gonna have mike be revealed to be michael. since initially i thought this was just them confirming that he's not since, surely if he was michael then he'd recognize his fathers voice? but. that might not be the case.

my theory/speculation for the route they're going (again, emphasis on the theory i'm not saying this is 100% canon) is that it's heavily implied there's going to be SOME kind of flashback with mike as a young teenager, since a boy was cast and listed as "young mike" too. and this information about his character given back when casting for the roles were announced.

"riddled with guilt over a tragedy in his past" which only further strengthens the possibility of a flashback to the bite of 83 where michael pranked his brother and inadvertently caused his death. it's the aftermath of this event with determines how this theory could work. either, william and his wife divorced shortly after, and his wife got custody of mike - they married into another family, the schmidt's. this could lead to abby either being his step-sister or his half-sister.

OR. mike was taken away from william either because of the bite or because the police were heavily suspicious that william was responsible for the missing children. he was put into the system and adopted by - again - the schmidt's. and the reason he doesn't remember anything is because the trauma and the guilt from the bite of 83 and the death of his little brother caused him to heavily repress those memories and in turn, a lot of others (william) without realizing.

so mike doesn't recognize william's voice here. but william?

this is the frame that caught me here. his expression, the subtle smile on his face. the gears are turning in his head, something clicked.

what if william was keeping tabs on mike this whole time? and he carefully plotted to ensure he got the job at freddy's. for reasons unknown. maybe he just wanted to mess with him, make him remember everything he repressed from his childhood - he's trying to get him to remember by bringing him back to the place where it all started. he remembers his son, but mike doesn't remember his father.

BUT that's just me i'm a little insane. anyway i needed to make this post and write down my thoughts or i'd explode.

[ellemarianne555]

Mother Issues

Summary: Aegon’s new wife is a Hightower and he isn’t sure how he feels about this. Fluffy smut.

Author’s note: this is so fluffy and self-indulgent and my first time ever writing smut so if it’s cringey and too much plot I’m sorry! Please leave feedback, I know my grammar can be iffy sometimes xoxo

Content warning: mdni, slight mommy kink, implied breeding kink, severe praise kink, heavy mommy issues and mentions of alcoholism and childhood neglect. Aegon is a dick for half of this but don’t worry he comes right in the end (literally lol).

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With your long wavy hair and big unblinking eyes, the court had been whispering about how much you resembled a young Alicent since you were a girl. Your father was a brother to Otto, and rumours had long been rife that Otto had laid with your mother and had her married hastily to his kin to cover the scandal. You knew this wasn’t true though, as your mother was devoted to your father and you possessed his wit and kindness as well as your grandmother’s looks that had seduced Viserys into making your cousin, Alicent, his wife.

The rumours and gossip became even more pronounced when you were betrothed to Aegon. The sulky young King with his disheveled blonde hair and the pouty lips stained permanently red from the wine he had been known to imbibe. Aegon had thrown a fit when he heard you were to be married as he petulantly resented anything to do with his distant mother and belittling grandfather. He barely talked to you on your wedding night, since he had gotten so drunk that when he stumbled into your bed early in the morning he was unable to perform his marital duties. Flushing red, sweating and swearing to all who would listen that it was his wife and her Hightower features that were to blame; you two become even more distant as you became married in name alone.

So you kept to your chambers, armed with your ladies in waiting and mountains of mind-numbing embroidery to hide from the shame of a husband who couldn’t stand you. You heard that Aegon was busy with his whores down in the Street of Silk and though your ladies pushed you to take a handsome young lover, you were committed to the Faith and your role as a dutiful wife.

Time passed and you seemed to see even less of your husband as he struggled with the roles and responsibilities of being in charge of the realm. You heard snippets of fights and arguments, the rare times you ventured outside of your apartments for more reading materials, between Aegon and his councillors as he fought to have his voice heard and opinions valued.

Doors banged and shouting echoed down the hallway to your bed chamber as you heard arguing through the cracks of the stone wall.

“But it isn’t my fault!”, one voice said as another voice became more clear.

“How can you expect anyone to take you as their King when you can’t even prove yourself as a man?” Angrily responded another voice, that you recognised as that of your mother-in-law.

Your husband and his mother were arguing. About you. In front of your bed chamber.

Suddenly the door flew open as Aegon burst in, scowling and seething with anger.

“Are you happy now? I’m in her damn chambers and I’ll fuck her until you have all the precious heirs you want!”.

You nearly stabbed stabbed your thumb with a needle as you jumped out of your perch of a wide cushion nestled into the window. Fortunately your ladies were not there to witness your mouth open and close in sheer shock as your husband entered.

For not the first time, you wondered how miserable your life could be that when the man you were married to entered your room, that it was as shocking as though if Vhagar had started wearing gowns and demanding weekly tea parties in their honour. Shaking the image out of your mind, you could see your husband grit his teeth in frustration.

The door clanged heavily behind you and you heard short angry footsteps disappear down the hallway until you were both alone. For the second time in your marriage since you had stood at the altar, you were alone with your husband. But for all his cruel words that had passed around the court and confined you to these chambers in humiliation, you weren’t scared of him. He looked slightly small in fact. With his lips trembling and eyes glistening he looked more like a furious king and more like a lost boy.

He scowled at you, with his lower lips jutting out in such a way that you felt more like wiping his cheeks then scolding him for the embarrassment and isolation he had put you through.

“I’ll have to stay here.” He said petulantly. “For at least a few hours until Mother thinks my duty has been performed.”

He looked over to where your abandoned embroidery lay and his upper lip curled in disdain.

“I see there’s nothing to entertain myself with, so I might as well sleep.” He looked pointedly at you upon saying the word “entertain”, but again it seemed to came off as less hurtful but sulky and strangely self-conscious.

“What do you do to pass the time in here? Seeing as you never bother to come to court.”

Your mouth gaped open again as you realised that your husband was actually talking to you for once, instead of at you.

“W-well, I embroider.”

His eyes rolled nearly to the ceiling.

“A-and I read.” Your voice choking in your throat as his red rimmed stare snapped to your trembling lips.

“Really? I thought it wasn’t becoming of such a high-born lady to entertain herself with such foolish pursuits.”He said mockingly, and instead of rising to his disdain, you laughed.

“It seems I am not the only one in this marriage who amuses themselves with frivolity.”

His nostrils flared in anger as you realised that in your attempt to jest, you had instead struck a delicate nerve.

“I am not as foolish as you or this court believe you know. I have a great interest in my family’s history and that of the realm. Of course everyone just assumes that there is nothing else to me but the drinking and the whoring.”His mouth curled upwards in a way that showed you he had long been used to demeaning himself in front of others .

“I’m sorry.” You paused hesitantly, “I just don’t know how to talk to you. It seems like we are more strangers than when I had never met you.”

“Well, you don’t have to treat me as if I were an idiot. I get enough of that from my own kin.”

Again, you felt a pit form in your stomach as you thought how it must of been to grow up feeling lesser than. You had had not exactly an idyllic childhood in Old Town, but you knew your parents loved you. Even if they were misguided enough to agree to betroth you to a man who clearly hated you.

You tried again, “I’m sorry. I also find the stories of our history fascinating.”You held out a worn copy of folklore and fairytales from under one of the cushions from your childhood, one of the only things you had managed to take with you from home.

“You’re reading children’s stories?” Aegon scoffed.

“They’re not really stories at all. They introduce the stories of our past to children so they take an interest in the way things came to be. My favourite is how Visenya Targaryen and how she conquered the Vale.”

“Really?” Aegon said catching himself quickly before he sounded too interested.

“When I was younger I always dreamed of being like her, so strong and brave.”

“So did I.” He said almost begrudgingly.

“It must be hard. To grow up with a brother who often thinks less of you and diminishes your accomplishments.”

Aegon blinked, again surprised at how this woman who he had pushed away so harshly seemed to know him so well.

“I was just finishing this chapter. I could read it aloud? If that is alright with you, your grace.”

He nodded stiffly and sat at the edge of the window seat as though he were afraid to come any closer.

You patted the worn cushion next to him and smiled, “I don’t bite, my lord.” You teased. Again a smile seemed to escape from him as he slowly inched closer.

As the chapter progressed and the pages turned you noticed that your husband was falling asleep, first on your shoulder then burrowing down to your lap. You stiffened, unsure of whether to wake him but you decided that he seemed in need of a good rest and slowly wound his straggly blond hair through your fingers.

Before you had realised, you too had drifted to sleep. Only woken by a soft chiming of the bells from the Sept declaring that it was late at night, and a rather peculiar stiffness poking into your thigh.

Your eyelashes fluttered open, only to look down and see your husband, mouth slightly agape and sleeping peacefully. You realised what had happened, he had clearly brushed against you by accident and gotten aroused.

Trying to be respectful, you gently tried to move his head out of your lap. His eyes snapped open, blinking as he tried to place where he was.

“You look very beautiful when you sleep.” You blurted out softly as though scared he would bolt. His cheeks blushed a delicate shade of pink as he looked down and noticed his cock as though for the first time.

Scrambling out of your lap, he tried to cover himself with a pillow while cursing angrily with himself.

“I-it’s okay, you know.”

He froze, unsure of how to respond. So you decided not to let him.

“It happens to me too.” His eyebrows knit together in confusion as he was unsure if you were saying what he thought you were saying. That you also dreamed of him? And you felt the same attraction you denied yourself when awake?

“We don’t choose our thoughts when we dream. You must have been dreaming of a beautiful woman or an old lover perhaps.”

He frowned, if only you knew that it was you he wanted. Why had he pushed you away so much? Because he resented the lack of choice? Because he was so determined to despise anything related to his mother? The woman who had been so absent and cold towards him throughout his childhood, yet was unable to see why he drank and surrounded himself with whores to cope with the emptiness he felt.

You looked at him again, worried that you had somehow upset him. “You can go back to sleep, you know. I don’t mind.” You said, patting the cold space in your lap where he had been.

He smiled softly, and shyly lay back down.

How odd this man was, you thought. One moment he was fire and hatred but the next he seemed so lost and scared.

You started humming to yourself quietly as you again stroked his face. His eyes cracked open again.

“What is that song? It sounds familiar.”

“It’s just a song we sing to children in Old Town. My mother taught it to me so that maybe I could one day sing it to my own.”.

“It’s nice.” Aegon said gruffly and closed his eyes once more.

The rhythm and lyrics poured out of your mouth as you sang a nursery rhyme praising the child that grew in your belly, promising they would grow to be strong and that you were proud of him. It was an old song said to promote fertility and help form a bond through the womb.

Suddenly, you noticed something again poking into your lap as your husband blushed red with shame.

“M-mommy” he choked out in heaving gasps, his greasy hair wrapped around your fingers as you froze, tugging the roots sharply. The whimper of pain he released sounded almost like a moan and looking down you noticed the damp spot on his breeches.

Aegon jumped up as though he had been doused in icy water and backed up against the door. His chest falling and rising with small gasping hiccups.

You realised that this was probably the first time anyone had shown him the tenderness he so desperately craved, and that he had been seeking in the bottom of his cups and the bottoms of well, prostitutes. It was only natural that these feelings of shame had combined with arousal, and how he was attracted to the softness he had never known but always craved. You smiled kindly, reassuringly as if to let him know it was alright.

“I didn’t mean to-“

“It’s alright,” you said speaking to him slowly with your hands reached out, as though you were tying to tame a horse rather than a king with serious mother issues. “You can call me whatever you need.”

His lips were still quivering as more tears leaked out of his eyes and caught on his round chin before trickling down below his shirt.

“I am so sorry.” He whispered, so faintly it took a few seconds to sink in.

“It’s alright.” you repeated.

“N-no, it’s not. The moment I saw you I thought you were the most beautiful women I’d ever seen. But then I became aware of the comments about your resemblance to my mother and I became so angry and confused at how someone I could desire so much could resemble someone who hates me so.”

You froze. Then before you knew it you were up against the door, pinning him to the cold iron that seemed to only increase the heat between your bodies.

He looked into your eyes, and you slowly traced the tears that had fallen down his soft chin and placed your finger in your mouth. As if to show him you wanted all of him. His sadness, his love, his unease.

Your husband seemed to snap at the image of your plump mouth slowly sucking the finger inside and gripped the back of your head, as he wound his shaking fingers around your long wavy hair. The kiss was searing, harsh and longing as you seemed to fall down and down into the feelings you had been denying for so long.

His length was aching and hard against your thigh as you suddenly pulled yourself from his embrace. Breathing heavily, you moved to untie his breeches. But he surprised you yet again. And got down on his knees.

This time it was you pressed against the door, as he lifted your skirts hurriedly only to look up questioningly as though asking your permission.

“I know I’ve been a cunt. But I hope that I can show you how sorry I am.” He grinned broadly as he waited for your approval.

“It’s fine, Aegon. You don’t have to do anything you don’t want to.”

“Well, my wife you clearly don’t know me very well if you think I would find tasting your sweetness unpleasant. Let me make amends…With my tongue.”

As soon as your head let out a shaky nod, not sure whether to believe what was happening. He was back under your skirts. Licking and tasting like this was the first meal he had all day, knowing him it was probably the first that wasn’t liquid.

You had never felt such an intense pleasure before, never in your nights of touching yourself under your sheets, your shaking fist shoved in your mouth as you thought of the stories your ladies had told you of all the ways a man could please a woman. As you thought of how beautiful your husband had looked in his armour the day he was crowned, so unsure and so vulnerable. You really seemed to have a weakness for sad men. But mainly just him, just your husband who was licking and sucking at you as he deadly slipped his tongue between your folds.

You cried out as he slowly breached your entrance with his finger.

“Is this alright?” He said worriedly as he looked up for your approval.

“Of course, sweet boy.” And in response your husband groaned, deep and full. His efforts redoubled as he sought to press his fingers inside at you at the point your inner walls started to crumble and be torn down by his efforts. Crying out in ecstasy, you collapse to the floor. His head still in your hands as he looked up at you adoringly, chin glistening with your release as he proudly smirked and wiped it off with the back of his hand.

You sat there together. On the floor for a moment. As you thought of how misunderstood the man who rested his head in the crook of your neck was. At how he loved you, every part of you. Even the parts that resembled his mother. Because maybe with at was what he needed. To see a version of himself, reflected in yourself as kindness. And maybe he wasn’t afraid anymore. Of loving you so entirely.

You smiled at him softly as he panted into your shoulder and you noticed how the hardness in his breeches had only grown fiercer and more pulsing.

“May I?”, you spoke, gazing into his eyes and now he was the one who was shy as he nodded gently.

Reaching into his trousers, you took his cock in your hands. “Pretty.” You could not help yourself say. You worriedly glanced at your husband only to find his face bright red yet again. He pulsed in your hands and you realised what he needed. What he had been denied for so long.

“Such a good boy.” You murmured into his neck. The reaction was instant, his head burrowed further into your chest as he moaned low and unashamed.

“You’re doing so well. Being such a perfect boy for me. So so pretty.”

He latched on to your breast, yanking them out of your gown fiercely as he began to suck harshly on your nipples. You moaned, as you increased your efforts on his aching red cock.

“You’re a good man, Aegon.” You choked out between sighs, “You’d be such a good father to our children, I’d be honoured to be their mother.”At these words, your husband pulsed furiously and exploded into your palm.

Shaking from pleasure, he again rested his head in your lap. Looking up at you as though you were still strangers and he was still shy, despite his tongue having been inside your cunt moments before.

“D-did you mean that?”

“Mean what?”

“That I’d be a good father. That you’d want to have children with me.”

“Of course. I couldn’t think of anything I’d want more. Stop denying yourself the love you want to give and receive, from me, from any children we may have.”

He smiled at this, like the sun was breaking across a clouded sky. Like he was seeing what his lifecould be for the first time.

“Well.” Your husband grinned; “I think we should start trying to make children more productively.”As he again pushed you to the floor, both of you laughing and smiling as he kissed you again and again.

[feefivefoe]

Like I mentioned in the comments of my first post, I can't really write all that well, so all you'll get are snippets, but this thought has been eating me alive.

"Jason's right, it isn't safe out on your own [Y/N]."

"Right. Because you're all so worried about my safety, aren't you?"

"We're family, of course we're worried-"

"Please don't."

"[Y/N]-"

"No, Dick. Do not use the family line. We aren't family. You do not, and never have cared about me. And that's fine! I don't expect you to care just because Bruce knocked up my mom. But don't pretend that makes us anything."

"I know I didn't treat you like a brother before, but that doesn't change the fact that I'm here now. We know we messed up, but family is supposed to be there for each other when things get rough. Please, give us the chance to make things right."

"When is my birthday."

"...What?"

"My birthday. When is it? What's my favorite food? Am I in college right now, or not? What's my mother's name? Hell, what's my LAST name? My actual one, not Bruce's!"

"I don't-"

"I know you don't know."