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carnivalcarriondiscarded · 9 months

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for funsies and because the Writing Motivation gripped me, here's a snippet of a modern human au scene. no-context edition. it's unedited and also its 1 am, so if it's a lil wonky take pity on me <3 im just a lil guy <3

“It’s addressed to one, uh, Wally Darlin' -”

“That’s me.”

“Oh, is it? Great! I was hopin’ I wouldn’t have to return it. Good thing I carried it with me, huh? Y’know, funny thing - your last name kinda reminds me of mine.”

Wally takes the offered letter. “It does?”

“Yessir! It’s not often you meet a Darling, let alone a Dear-”

“Eddie Dear!” Wally says, his eyes widening and his smile growing.

Eddie blinks. He checks his shirt to see if a nametag manifested. There isn’t one. “How’d you know my name? Is - is this a prank? Am I being filmed?”

“Ha, no, silly. I knew you looked familiar. It was bothering me,” Wally says, looking completely unbothered. “We went to high school together.”

“High… school?” Eddie frowns, wracking his brain. “But I don’t… oh. Oh! You’re the funny lil’ fella who hung with the weird kids!”

Eddie slaps a hand over his mouth as soon as the words spill out of his mouth, blanching. He stares at Wally in horror, waiting for the smile to sour. Why did he have to go and open his big, stupid-

“Ha ha ha, ha ha” Wally enunciates, his smile turning into a grin. He points at himself, eyes narrowed with mirth. “That’s me. I’m happy you remembered! I was starting to think you didn’t.”

“I almost didn’t,” Eddie says. He slowly drops his hand, relieved beyond words that Wally didn’t take his words as a slight. They weren’t. “You seemed familiar as well, I just couldn’t quite put my finger on it.”

“Luckily, now we both have. It’s nice to see you again. How have you been?”

“I’ve been… well enough, I suppose.” Eddie carefully swallows the word vomit rising in his throat.

He doesn’t have time to catch up with Wally, as much as he’d like to sit down and chat. Or maybe he wants to hightail it out of here… the mortification is blending so strangely with this awkward reunion and Eddie’s own past issues rekindling. Eddie’s tempted to just sit down and hold his head in his hands until his mind stops spinning.

Wally hums. “Would you like to come back later to tell me more? It’s been a very long time, Eddie.”

“It has, and I’d like that very much, but… I’m not sure. I’ve got a packed schedule, Mr. Darling.”

“Call me Wally,” Wally says immediately. A strange sharpness underlies his tone.

“Wally,” Eddie corrects. “But it was awfully wonderful to see you again.”

“I agree. Maybe I’ll see you again tomorrow?”

Only the endearing uptick to the sentence tips Eddie off to it being a question. He adjusts his hat. “I can’t say for sure. I got a late start today, but my job doesn’t really offer a reliable timetable. It all depends on what I got to deliver, you know?”

“No,” Wally says. “But I can imagine.”

“Don’t get me wrong, I hope we do run into each other again! I’m just real busy.”

Wally nods. “I understand.”

Eddie nods back. They stand in awkward silence for a beat too long, though Wally seems perfectly comfortable with the quiet. And the prolonged eye-contact.

“Well.” Eddie clears his throat and takes a step back, preparing to say goodbye.

Naturally, his foot misses the step and he falls backwards. Wally’s eyes widen and he lunges forward, but Eddie twists and manages to turn the fall into a jarring stumble. He staggers halfway down the path before losing momentum.

“Hoo, that was a close one!” Eddie readjusts his hat and huffs, putting his hands on his hips. “That would’ve been a nasty fall, let me tell ya.”

“Please watch where you’re going,” Wally says, standing halfway down the steps. His cat is still where it was told to sit. The brief glimpse of surprise Eddie caught has been replaced by that sleepy, neutral expression. Eddie wonders if he even saw it.

“Don’t worry, I’m pretty talented at survivin’ tough tumbles,” Eddie laughs. “I’ll get to my truck in one piece - it was nice seein’ you again, Mr. Darli- Wally.”

Wally holds up his letter. “We’ll see you around.”

He says it like a promise. Or a threat?

Eddie smiles and tips his hat before leaving, struggling to keep his pace casual. He nearly throws himself into the truck and slumps into his seat with no small amount of relief. He grips the steering wheel and rests his forehead against it.

#and i have a headache now so im gonna go sleep!#i have to get up early... ough....#anyway thinking so hard about the human au tonight #the layers!!! The Layers!!!!#ough headache getting worse No Rambles Tonight folks bye #i. dont know how to tag this #chucking that tiny problem at future me. you can deal with tagging #edit: future me here! fuck you! i had to look through my archive for this!#wh modern human au #snippets from the bog

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rielzero · 6 months

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Just saw your post about ascended Astarion and male Tav fanfic. I am willing to rise to the challenge

If you need any prompts! here's some concept I've danced with in my head (up for anyone to use) inspired by my own character's potential AUs. Please do not claim ownership over the ideas, I'd love to see people's different spins. Please keep it to Male Tav, there's so many Female Tav fics out there already- I had ideas specifically with a male character in mind. M x M focus is preferred. I'm not bi or pan, so anything hinting to tav being exclusively gay is nice.

THESE ARE all PROMPTS / IDEAS not demands. I'm not here to control anyone's creative progress :V

I'm just a nerd be nice

Brain Damage Tav has used the tadpole powers but refuses to become half-illitid and keeps it how it is. Tav ascends Astarion- but is convinced by Jaheira or someone else that he is incapable of feeling love now and becomes afraid of him- (Astarion still is very much capable of love) Astarion responds of course like a scorned ex, and lies through his teeth when the break up happens and breaks tav's heart. Timeskip- it is revealed Tav's altered brain still has mindflayer powers, but because of the trauma of the final fight he suffers from severe memory loss and pretty much got themselves in a position were he is dying- only for Astarion to come around and save him by turning him- then be met with guilt and over-protectiveness when he realizes Tav does not remember their time together anymore. (would work for a series, this concept is what I intend to use for an AU of my character but it would be very different.) Lots of angst but soft ascended astarion towards male tav :3 very gentle- very protective.

You were There too AU were Tav was kept by Cazador but never turned, just kept as a snack- so Astarion knows him and they may have fallen in love during that time. During the ritual Cazador threatens to replace Astarion with Tav- Astarion goes feral.

I forget you're an Urchin Playing into the fact that Astarion was a corrupted Noble- knows what luxury life is like- inspired by how my tav is an urchin and very unfamiliar with luxury- Tav is Astarion's consort- but is very awkward not knowing ANYTHING about noble life, from etiquette to wearing jewelry and fancy garbs. Wholesome stuff- Probably lots of fluff. Astarion spoiling Tav and showing him off.

Three of them AU were Gale and Astarion and Tav are a in a polycule, after ascension Astarion becomes a little overly possessive over Tav- Gale notices a bit late and feels left out, but supports his loved ones new life goals... Of world domination.

I'm married, get over it Au were male tav has an horrible ex who breaks in the mansion because he thinks tav is enslaved to Astarion- but he's not- He's just as evil as Astarion. And they're very affectionate- Astarion enjoys rubbing it into the ex's face. Extra points if the ex is a human cleric, paladin, or bard with too much facial hair. (COUGHS)

Warlock? cool Any fic that plays into the warlock theme openly for tav, not similary to Wyll- all though I don't want to restrict anyone to a specific type of patron. (my patron is a great old one) keep in mind there's warlock patrons outside of the subclasses in the bg3 game if you need inspiration. If tav's patron is female, give them a mother-son kind of bond since tav is gay.

Other, Tropes I like described vaguely cuz my brain stoopid but ideas that can be expanded into one fic or more -oh shit you're dying don't worry I can fix it with a bite -you're so beautiful I want a 100 paintings of you akjdkhgkfhgk -The gods literally made you to ruin me god damn it I should've known -tav is small / fragile looking man but he can stab you 100 times over -tav can sing, or is creative but he doesn't like sharing this side of him (loki is 100% exactly this lol) hes easily embarrassed -tav is internally panicking because he is very very very gay. -tav has scars too and is very insecure about his body. -overprotectiveness, lots of handholding keep you close kinda stuff -wholesome physical affection, does not have sexual implications even if they talk dirty or flirt silly -words being used like petite, twink- or cute in the right context. -maybe a fic focussing on tav being half elf and the struggles that come with it. Otherwise leave race up to reader. -Tav was already a vampire before they met, or is a dhampir -Astarion and tav knew each other 200 years ago -I will pet you aggressively and affectionally and you will like it -who the fuck are you drawing? wait thats me??? oh -Astarion is creative too and might doodle. -love at first sight but in denial.. cuz its funny -tav has insomnia and needs cuddles... -tav is a necromancer and familiar with vampire lore. -anything reflecting the vampire bride/groom lore in a scene. (there's a reddit post explaining this) -Vampire hunters coming after tav in attempt to hurt Astarion because he's become pretty untouchable -Vampire Tav does not want to feed on his victims because he finds that too intimite -Vampire tav is a vampire lord too- but not an ascended one- and he isn't corrupted by greed. -Astarion technically can compel Tav, but has no desire to do so and voices this openly to anyone who tries to argue Tav is a slave. -If Astarion hurts tav by accident in any way he feels horrible and will shower him in gifts or thousands of love language things just to affirm that it was an oopsie and he did not want to do that. He'd never do that willingly. -consent consent consent anything with consent- love language is consent -tav was a sex worker himself before they met but not anymore -lots of fluff stuff -scheming husbands plotting the downfall of the world together, bonus points if tav is the mastermind and a genius -Polycule with Gale, either as Triad, or Triangle -Admiring from afar, staring- lots of staring- intense consential staring -astarion beating up tav's abusers while tav sips from a chalice like a spoiled consort -dramatic vampire parties and all the normie vampire lords are scared of Astarion and his consort -vampire politics are kind of like ballroom hissing contests with fancy banquets and showing off your partner -I will go feral if someone hurts or touches you -steer clear of the consort, or the master will gut you -jealous vampire lord tries to seduce tav but tav is very loyal to astarion and not having it -astarion gets a cleric or powerful mage in his court just to revive tav if tav dies -You offended my husband? I'm setting your village on fire -Everyone thinks the consort tav is weak- but the consort might actually be more dangerous oh no -None of the above lines have to be necessarily restricted by ingame universe, can all be AU- does not have to include the whole mindflayer drama. Rule of Cool.

Avoid these please? I personally dislike that -misgendering tav (babygirl, queen, girly, strictly effeminate- any words that might demasculinize tav, as a gay man this stuff makes me really uncomfortable) -Overly describing tav's features as if they're set without leaving it open to the reader (long hair, skin color, favorite colors, etc) -Astarion knew tav when tav was still a child and Astarion was an adult. -Astarion abusing tav physically, just.. Please no. -...they're teenagers in high school... *dies* -brainwashing.. No offense to people who like some tropes I don't- You're fine :V We all have different tastes!

Headcanons for how Ascension works that you can use (inspired by ingame dialogue and such) -Tav isn't a regular spawn, but a vampire groom- He was turned differently, not buried for 2 days. Astarion can sense Tav is in danger if he is a groom, or sense strong emotions from him. -Tav is not immune to sunlight unless he stays in close range of Astarion. (based on dialogue) -Astarion might be a bit warmer to the touch since he is a living vampire now. He does not have to feed on blood- but Tav still requires blood and is cold to the touch.

Might edit this post later with more.

#bg3 #male tav #astarion x male tav #astarion x male reader #prompts #these are some of my preferences #vampire #ascended astarion #astarion bg3 #fanfiction #fanfic prompts #ideas

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fishbaitslime · 7 months

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Leafpool/Hawkfrost hypokits? Pls and thank you

hawkfrost and leafpool i think met at a gathering and leaf was immediately charmed by him. In my heart she has a thing for bad boys lol so she fell for him hard. hawk thought she was pretty and nice but defo was encouraged by tigerstar to get with her- but he did actually have genuine love feelings for her.

in this au, i think hawkfrost’s plans succeed in killing firestar, also killing brambleclaw. with no witnesses, he spins the story as him stumbling upon brambleclaw having trapped firestar, already taken the leaders lives- and hawkfrost in-turn fought brambleclaw to stop him before he moved onto the rest of thunderclan.

this kinda turned squirrelflight and leafpools relationship a bit sour, squirrel blaming hawk (rightfully) and leaf being like “you can’t see past your own nose and accept that bramble was just bad.” which thennn escalates to leafpool deciding to join riverclan as a medicine cat, the two becoming a leader medicine cat iconic duo power couple.

id like to think eventually hawkstars treachery is revealed which results in a lot of angst… perhaps ill make this an actual au lol

EAGLEFROST is our jay stand in. He’s still blind but becomes a warrior bc idk fuck the erins he can do what he wants. He’s revered throughout riverclan for his battle prowess and cunning, making for a skilled fighter even as an apprentice. This is partly due to having been trained in the dark forest all his life alongside his siblings. Eaglefrost isn’t dumb, he knows his family history.. he just is torn between honoring his legacy and doing what’s right. Renamed Eagle- because i think Hawk would talk Leafpool into a little more of a Cooler Bird Name. Then -frost as a kind’ve reference to his canon name being from his canon father, but also bc of his cold and calculated battle shit <3

TIGERLEAF is our lion, and our replacement medicine cat! I think Tigerstar would want a spy on the inside to starclan, so Hawk would probably fake a sign that would make he’s sons destiny within the medicine den. Tigerleaf is actually a very sweet soul, taking after Leafpool a lot and not at all his father or siblings. He is the voice of reason of the group, and he is usually the one to tell right from wrong. This leaves him within a lot of turmoil. His family is everything and that means their safety and success should be valued above all… right? Tiger- is because, again, I think Hawk/Tiger would disapprove of the Lion- prefix so yeagh. Leaf bc he plant doctor forever<3 but also his mom

TADPOLESTORM is our holly, and she is my favoriteee. Raised within the dark forest along her siblings, Tadpolestorm has been trained to be vicious but more importantly- fiercely loyal and obedient. Instead of the warrior code, Tadpolestorm is absolutely obsessed with helping her family. She know’s of (almost) all of Hawkstar’s deeds, and holds those secrets close to her chest. She would do anything to insure her father, mother, and brothers are safe- anything. Hawkstar has chosen her as elected deputy, and one day, leader. Tadpole- is from hawk’s brotherr and -storm is bc sheee a bit crazayyy (/affectionate)

despite all of this stuff, i do think Hawkstar does genuinely love Leafpool and his kids..he’s just got a lot going on.

warrior cat hypokit requests are open!

#wc #warrior cats #hawkfrost #leafpool #wc art #warrior cat art #jayfeather #lionblaze #hollyleaf #hawkstar au #jo scribbles #i will be making more for this… probs…

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darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 8 months

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Mise en Place 7

Warnings: noncon, coercion, manipulation. Proceed with caution.

Note:I’ll be honest that these parts are a little more hands on because I’m full on learning cocktail recipes here lol.

Thanks all for reading and I hope you’re excited for this one. All feedback is more than welcome and loved and appreciated. Reblogs are most helpful.

Part of The Club AU

You leave your apartment, the window boarded up with your landlords half-assed at replacement. You almost prefer the wood; more resilient and you can’t see through it. Still, the place feels eerie. Your little fortress has been breached and the mystery of the attacker has you addled.

You walk into work as you always do. Head down, bag hooked over one shoulder, fingers twiddling as you go through your task list in your mind. You put your things in the coatroom and go to the kitchen.

You grab the broom and mop, eager to go over anything you didn't get to before. Behind the bar, upstairs and downstairs and the private rooms that were always in use even after closing. You methodically work your way from the bottom floor up.

As you return the bucket and pan, Thor is behind the bar. You give a small hi as he booms his usual hello. You tuck away the broom and mop and wipe your hands on your apron, grabbing a cloth to tuck into it from the tidy stack leftover from the day before. You have a whole load of napkins to deliver to the servers' station.

Thor enters as you begin sorting through the cutlery into the slotted tray. You peek up at him briefly, shying back to your task.

"How are you? Good night?"

"Mhmm," you hum, "you?"

"Good," he answers, letting silence dangle as he gives a thoughtful hum, "you made it home okay?"

"Safe and sound," you reply as you examine a spoon and put it by the sink to be rewashed.

"And a nice sleep?"

You pause as his line of questioning irks you. He's nice enough but sometimes his conversation feels intrusive. You told him already, you're fine.

"Yep," you shrug, "how about your night?"

"Ah, I did some reading, and a bit of drinking," he winks as you glance at him once more, "they've still not rehired. Just me again."

"That's too bad."

"Lonesome," he chuckles lightly, "but I can always count on you, can't I, fawn?"

You nod, elusive at giving an answer. You don't like being behind the bar and to be fair, it's frustrating doing extra work without the pay to match.

"Have I done something? Said something?" He prods as he comes closer, standing at the other side of the counter.

"No."

"Hmm," he hums as his large hands rest on the silver edge, "you certain?"

You nod again. You hate to even think it, it feels mean, but you just want to be left alone. You miss those days when no one noticed you.

"Well… my hand feels much better," he waves his bandaged fingers.

"That's good," your lips twitch with a momentary smile, "I should take this to the hub."

"Nah, I got it," he volunteers as he grabs the tray of silverware, "little thing like you carrying all this around, that's no good."

"I do it all the time–"

"Yes, well, perhaps it is time you let others help, fawn," he insists, keeping the tray out of your reach, "you might actually enjoy it."

He spins and struts out before you can respond. You don't even know how you would. It confounds you how he can be so friendly yet so pushy. It puts you off yet makes you feel so ungrateful. You can't assume the worst of him because he reminds you of someone else.

🍸

You finish your shift without much disturbance. A few times you bring out clean glasses to the bar and incap a few bottles but nothing exhaustive. Sonny keeps you entertained as he tells you about his time in the corps. He also makes sure Thor can't steal you away again as he keeps you busy with the pans.

The chef leaves first. He works short shifts, leaving the kitchen tidy as he puts on his leather vest and gives a wave. You enter the bar as last call sounds and gather up any empties you can find, you'll do another sweep once it's empty.

You wait out the last of the clubgoers and return to the dance floor, oddly quiet and vacant. The servers count their tips at the station and you hear the subtle clink of glasses from behind the bar. You have your earbuds in still, the low buzz of your favourite playlist easing the tension.

You don't notice when the servers leave, silence is only ever comforting so you rarely make note of it. As you bend to grab a crushed can from beneath a table, a foot appears around the other side. You stand and face Thor as he smiles at you.

"Need help?" He offers.

"All good," you assure him as you dump the can in the plastic bag.

He stares and you back away, looking around for more garbage.

"What're you listening to?" He frightens you again as the blur of his finger fills your peripheral as he points to your ear.

"Oh nothing," you say, "just music."

"What kind of music?"

You blanch. It feels too rude to ignore him or ask him to leave you be. You're working but there's not much left to do. You stand up and face him. Again, you're reminded of his height.

"Florence and the Machine."

"Ah, I love her, er, them?" He questions, "it is a band, yes?"

"I think," you push your lip out indecisively.

"Do you listen to music often?"

"I guess," you squint. His questions are stiff and awkward. Almost like an interrogation.

"You have a record player," he says and you wince, thinking of the green suitcase player in the corner of your apartment, "asking. Sorry, that came out weird."

You clutch the bag and utter an answer, "yeah…" you look around, "I should finish…"

"Of course," he gulps audibly, "let me know if you need me to walk you home… I heard about another girl, eh? At the club down the block, you know the one, right?"

You don't know. You shake your head, "I had no idea, thanks."

"Wanna make sure you're safe," he backs away slowly, "so I'll wait by the door?"

You hesitate and grab a napkin, shoving it in the bag.

"You should just go home, I hate to keep you late."

"I don't mind–"

"I do," you interrupt without meaning to. You sniff and look at him, "really, I'll be okay."

He stares at you, the humour draining from his face as his cheek tics. He looks very unlike himself. It takes your breath away.

Just as quickly as he darkened, he brightens up again and turns his palms out, "stay safe."

He turns and strides away. You watch his back and tension corded in his forearms as he closes and opens his fists. The tenor of his last words hang in the air, more ominous than hopeful.

Maybe it's all in your head. It's the broken window and the unattached footsteps and the memories. You're fucked up and that's why you're better off alone.

#Thor #dark thor #dark!thor #thor x reader #drabble #au #marvel #mcu #avengers #series #the club #mise en place

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pellucid-constellations · 2 years

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How about (for the one shot), reader is overwhelmed and disassociating a bit and we got a Bucky (AU your pick) trying to help her?

Knowing you, if you did this - it will hit the feels and the spot.

I tend to disassociate so I wanna know what he’d do.

Pairing: Bucky x Reader

Word count: 950

Warnings: overwhelmed feelings, disassociating

a/n: I made this a little drabble, I hope that's okay! Thank you for waking me up with this request :))

____________________________________________

Everything was too much.

The noises and the lights and the talking; you’d been in the throes of battle more times than you could count, but still, nothing seemed to shake you as much as media conferences.

You weren’t even talking at this one, but the questions thrown at Pepper were enough to get your head spinning. Most of the team was there with you, sitting in the background while more eloquent speakers took the lead, but their presence did little to placate your anxious thoughts.

How will this be better dealt with next time?

Whose fault was it, exactly?

A team full of superheroes and the casualty count is still this high?

Guilt gnawed at your insides and then continued its path along your skin. Maybe if you’d been faster, thought harder, done better, these questions wouldn’t be necessary. Your muscles still ached from the exertion that had spanned unrelenting days, but surely there was more you could have done.

A camera flashed when Steve took the podium. Your head started to hurt.

More questions—they were endless and ruthless and coming all at once. The reporters spoke over each other and more pictures were taken. Topics were being debated that you had never even considered. Did the avengers have insurance? Were you personally liable for workplace disruptions?

There was a pressure in your lungs that began seeping along your ribs. Your breaths came out in short, heavy pants, and then your throat felt tight. Everything was closing in. You were alone on that stage and nothing was going to save you from the overwhelming sensations taking over your body.

But you couldn’t panic on live TV; you couldn’t embarrass the team like that.

So you shifted, eyes focusing on the back wall until a low hum rumbled in your ears instead of the questions and the shouting. It all went blurry, and in the blurriness there was peace. It was dangerous to get stuck like this in such a public place—to allow yourself to fall—but it felt safer.

You weren’t sure how long it had been when you felt your body shake. It was a light movement, a shake of your shoulder and warmth circling your arm. It was tempting to return the call of that touch, but it was even more tempting to completely ignore it and stay in the place where everything stood still.

Your body shook a little harder, enough to make you blink and bring some noise back into the present. But as quickly as the harshness came, it left.

“Don’t do that,” you heard, like a whisper thrown down a tunnel. “You’re gonna scare the crap outta her.”

“She’s out of it, Barnes.”

“You think I don’t know that? Stop trying to knock her brain loose and move.”

You were teetering between two planes now—the blurry and the sharp. The jostling from before never returned, but something else replaced it and made you want to strain your ears to find it.

There was a low, deep voice accompanied by a comfortable pressure on your face. It spoke consistently and calmly, never tripping over words you couldn’t understand or raising its voice in the way a person did when they were retelling a story. Softness brushed your cheeks, and each time it passed over your skin you seemed to understand that you weren’t fully aware of your surroundings.

An awareness of being unaware. You almost laughed at the sentiment but you felt your face twitch instead.

“There she is. Almost back with me?”

You blinked. He sounded nice… and very familiar despite your mind drawing a blank. The ringing in your ears dulled to a low buzz and you began to feel the air on your skin. An air conditioner was probably on. Where were you again?

“Come on, honey. Few more blinks and I’ll be right in front of ya.”

You did as he said, and he was right. Bucky was there, tilting his head down to find your eyes, his back to an empty press room and his smile soft. You sucked a deep breath in through your nose and reoriented yourself to the lights—that were now dimmer, somehow—cringing at the slight headache brewing across your temple.

“It’s over?” you croaked, reaching up to wrap your fingers around Bucky’s wrists. You really didn’t want him to pull his hands away.

“It’s over, pretty girl. Sorry I couldn't help you out sooner. Stark had me ten miles away on the other side of this stupid stage.”

“S’okay.”

Bucky slid his hands along your jaw until his touch rested at the back of your neck. He turned your face up to meet his gaze and pressed a featherlight kiss to the high point of your cheek. In the silence of the room, a small burst of embarrassment found a home in the pit of your stomach.

You bit into your bottom lip. “Sorry I checked out. There was just… a lot going on.”

Bucky shook his head, gently shushing you before the apology had left your lips. “Don’t be sorry. Those reporters are a bunch of vultures. Saw you getting nervous about ten minutes in and I was about to make a scene. I’m pretty sure they would’ve shut up if I punched a hole in the wall or something.”

“No punching holes in walls, Bucky,” you giggled. “We aren’t moody teenagers.”

“I will become a moody teenager for you.”

“Can we get lunch before you do that? I’m hungry.”

Bucky huffed out a laugh, kissing your forehead for a long moment. You felt his next words on your skin. They wiped away all evidence of your bad day.

“I’ll take you anywhere in the city.”

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x female reader #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes #bucky barnes drabble

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wingdingery · 6 months

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Trick or treat! Happy for any treat :))))

Hello, anon!! You get… (spins the wheel) a peek in the WIP icebox!

WIPs in the icebox are old WIPs that I’m not actively working on anymore and might never post.

This is an Under the Red Hood AU where SlaDick are (waves hands vaguely) something so Dick “hires” Slade to protect Jason from Black Mask’s contract hit squad, and Jason is very confused.

__________

The thing about Jason is that he doesn’t believe in luck, or divine intervention, or good deeds going unpunished. If any of those things were real, he’s sure his life would be very different.

So when he sees another lackey of the day go down in front of him with a well-placed bullet to the knee, he follows his suspicions to the rooftop where Deathstroke the fucking Terminator is calmly packing away his gear.

“What the fuck do you want?” Jason demands.

“From you? Nothing.” Deathstroke swings his bag over his shoulder.

“You think I don’t know about the five hundred grand Black Mask put out on me?” Jason thumps his fist against his chest and spreads his arms wide. “Well, I’m right here. Come and get it.”

“Tempting,” Deathstroke says, like he’d rather lick dirt off the sidewalk. “Unfortunately, I have a better offer elsewhere, so you and your death wish will have to survive another day.”

“What kind of offer?”

“Security,” Deathstroke says. “You keep kicking; I get what I’m due.”

Jason’s nostrils flare. “I can handle myself.”

“Do I look like I care?” Deathstroke says. “I do what I’m hired for. You have a problem, you can take it up with my client.”

Jason can’t think of a single person who would give that much of a shit to keep him alive. “Who’s your client?”

“If you don’t know, that’s your problem,” Deathstroke says. “Information doesn’t come free. And the answer to that question is going to cost you much more than you can afford.”

Jason scowls. Whoever it is, they’d have to have some pretty deep pockets—some pretty deep pockets and a certain sense of morality that would exclude the first rich asshole that springs to Jason’s mind.

Well, would mostly exclude him, except…

“You get a lot of the squeamish type?” Jason says; then, at Deathstroke’s impassive stare, adds, “Seems to me like a clean headshot would be the fastest way to put ‘em down. Instead, they’re getting away with rubber fucking bullets in the leg. Wonder why.”

“Professional courtesy,” Deathstroke says. “Job’s a job. You’re not going to have many friends in the business if you go around offing your associates first chance you get.”

Jason scowls. “I’m not in it to make friends. You can keep your life advice to yourself.”

Deathstroke snorts. “Do I look like your youth group leader? If you want to die alone, that’s your business.”

Jason absolutely refuses to be shamed about his social life by Deathstroke the fucking Terminator. What the fuck is even happening.

“You’d better not be recruiting for Lex fucking Luthor.” He knows Luthor’s hired Deathstroke in the past. If this is some scheme to get him to join some secret supervillain club, he’s gonna throw a fucking riot. As much as he doesn’t want to be associated with Bruce and Dick and the fucking replacement, Luthor feels like a significant step down.

Instead of answering, Deathstroke just slugs him on the shoulder as he walks by, hard enough that Jason stumbles. “Try a bit harder to stay alive, would you? I’ve got a nice deal resting on it.”

“Well, so long as it’s helpful for you,” Jason says, but Deathstroke is already gone.

#ask game answers #my asks #sladick #fic snippets

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anonymous-dentist · 6 months

Note

Fantasy AU stuff?

Read the Fantasy AU here! I'm going to start working on it again after Halloween I think, and it'll be my replacement secondary fic after Bad Romance ends!

Roier is just. So loud.

He sings, is the thing. He's always singing, or he's humming, and he doesn't stop.

Cellbit's ears are already in bad enough shape from the pins holding them down, but the singing? Gods.

Roier isn't even bad, he's just... loud. Cellbit doesn't know loud. He wasn't allowed it for most of his life, and then it was all loud, and then it was quiet again.

The castle is quiet, even if Forever isn't. Cellbit has his room, and he has his basement, and he has his interrogation chamber, and that's all he needs. He's used to being alone (with Richarlyson, who's too embarrassed over his recently-lost two front teeth to speak) there, and he's used to being alone (with just himself and his thoughts) on the road.

But Roier is... nice.

He's nice.

The sunlight catches his hair and spins it into honey, and Cellbit's breath catches in his throat so suddenly that he feigns a cough.

...But then there's the singing.

#asks!#a.d.'s fics i suppose #a.d.'s fics i suppose.#royalty au 🕷️🐱#that should be the tag anyway...

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bonefall · 1 year

Note

So what is Sparkpelt's relationship with Firestar going to be in BB rewrite since she isn't going to be Firestar but female? I'm assuming she's going to be completely different looking from cannon Sparkpelt too.

[ID: Better Bones AU's version of Sparkpelt. She is an auburn tigerclone with jagged stripes, a cream beard and mane, and raptor claws.]

BB!Sparkpelt is so different it'll make your head spin. GoodBYE Fireclone Sparkpelt, HELLO Tigerclone Sparkpelt

Also I decided that the KEY Tigerkin Family Trait is going to be raptor claws. A large index claw, and pointed talons on the back toe. They also tend to be large, tiger-themed, and have 'beards.' It's sometimes remarked that they bear a similarity to Thunderstar!

BIGGEST CHANGE, which I think is pretty well known by now, is that Sparkpelt is NOT Squirrelflight's child. Her mom was Jessy, from a brief relationship that ended in a brutal cat divorce. Squilf remains infertile, she cannot have children.

Instead, they are Mentor and Apprentice. Just as close as a parent and child.

Below the cut: Sparkpelt in,

Bramblestar's Thorns

Squirrelflight's Horror

BB!TBC and ASC setup

Bramblestar's Thorns: The AVoS-era replacement for the loss of Alderheart as a POV in that arc. Sparkpelt gets a POV alongside her brother covering her early life.

Her mother Jessy is a genius inventor. She joined during the SE, ThunderClan's Tempest, along with Fernsong and Stormcloud. Her name was briefly Sweetbright.

She had a massive fight with Brambleclaw shortly after having their children, which escalated and she wasn't willing to stay if he was going to treat her like that.

Alder was taken back to twolegplace. Bramblestar kept Sparkkit.

Spark loves her dad but...

He is an emotionally abusive person. Your relationship with a person like that is always unstable.

"He's not always like this." She wants him to be better, she blames herself for upsetting him, she loves him, he makes her feel like dirt, she doesn't want to be near him, she feels bad enforcing boundaries...

To give Bramblestar credit where it's due, however, he taught her very well about their family legacy. From Tigerstar all the way back to Oakstar, that they have a long line of pride and ambition.

Firestar, in these stories, was presented as someone who saved them from disgrace. By opposing Tigerstar and giving Brambleclaw power, he was a hero to them as well.

She's named after him, too. Firestar was Bramblestar's beloved mentor.

This pressure of legacy was something shared by her childhood best friend, Hollykit, child of Fallenleaf and Cinderheart.

Spark had her issues growing up, and resented Jessy massively for leaving her and taking her brother. When Alder came back because of his visions, she turned a lot of frustration onto him

Him coming back felt like she suddenly couldn't be so angry at Jessy. She had to be nice about the person who ripped her brother away, broke their family, and even turned Alder against her with how he defends her

It's not accurate or justified, but that's how this emotionally repressed teenager expresses complicated emotions.

In a moment of clarity, Bramblestar personally chose Squirrelflight as Sparkpaw's mentor. He knew that she would be the person his daughter needed, someone who would teach her to stand up for herself, and to do the right thing.

...But unfortunately most of the time Bramble does not have that level of insight. He rues this decision constantly, convinced that Squilf is intentionally turning his daughter against him.

Squirrelflight's Horror: The replacement for Squilf's Hope

This book is about Squirrelflight reconsidering her relationship with Bramble, when the Sister Situation happens. Ultimately it ends in Squilf going on trial in StarClan, less because of her 'transgressions' in life and more because of Fire Alone as an ideology being tested.

But this isn't about Squilf this is about Spark.

Similarly to canon, Hollylark suffers a horrible poisoning and passes away as their kittens are born prematurely.

Sparkpelt is shaken badly by this. They were childhood friends, they were expecting a litter, like canon she experiences postpartum depression.

Squilf wins her trial, but desperately decides she needs to get home because her apprentice can't lose a mate and a mentor at the same time.

I don't want to end this SE on the note that Sparkpelt is finally moving on from the death of Hollylark... I don't think she can "get over it" quickly the way canon implies.

In general this part of Spark's life is much more delicate. She needs more time, recovery is slower, there's a lot more pain here. But she is loved and supported through it.

BB!TBC and setup for ASC when it comes

By the time of TBC, she's finally recovering. Her relationship with her kittens has improved.

When the imposter happens, it threatens to destroy everything she had built.

She gets covered in scars from a dog attack, and is eventually exiled.

Finchpaw follows her, making a name for herself as a brave Firekin descendant who opposed a tyrant.

In this arc, a lot of Firekin act as a 'unit,' this family tends to think alike and work closely because of their shared legacy. Squilf, Spark, and Finch are in lockstep as major rebel figures.

Flamepaw is left out of this, because he chose not to follow them.

When Flame eventually rejects his name in ASC, a major contention he has is that "MOM ISN'T EVEN FIREKIN WHY DOES SHE CARE"

The answer is, that rejecting the Firekin side of himself is like killing the part of him that is Hollylark, and rejecting a family she feels accepted into and part of.

THAT SAID; I do not rewrite arcs until they are done. Details of ASC are sparse and only fragments. I need to know its conclusion before working backwards to make that conclusion stronger.

And that's BB!Sparkpelt! Very different from canon, but I love the gal.

#Better bones AU #BB!Sparkpelt

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robininthelabyrinth · 2 years

Note

Now i need so much the story of JC, his three wives and the gaggle of Jiang kids being a menace.

Sequel (AU?) to JC is successful with women part 1 and part 2

---

Jiang Cheng had long ago decided that he was never going to get married.

Sure, he had lots of kids, by lots of women – all perfectly consensual and with their agreement in advance, with all the children recognized and surnamed Jiang, he hastened to say, lest anyone think that he’d somehow become the current generation’s new Jin Guangshan – but if anything that was more reason for him never to enter a state of matrimony. What if the others got jealous? What if the kids got jealous, with some of them moved up to ‘child of the legitimate wife’ over others? What if the children of the wife he picked turned out to be less talented than some of the others, and started clamoring to be promoted on the basis of legitimacy instead of merit? What if Jin Ling started to worry about being replaced?

No, it would be a disaster.

Complete, utter disaster.

Which was probably why Jiang Cheng felt quite so lost where he was right now: stumbling his way through the marriage rituals that he’d thought he’d known (after all, who didn’t know how to get married?) but which turned out to be a lot more buried in the far recesses of his memory than he’d expected.

And a lot more tricky than he’d expected, giving that he was marrying three times in one go.

“Do you need a hint?” Jin Ling asked, hiding a grin behind his hand.

“Shut up,” Jiang Cheng hissed.

“I won’t judge you. I mean, more than I’m already judging you, given who you’re marrying…”

Jasmine put her paw – er, her hand, now that she’d cultivated to humanity – on Jin Ling’s head.

“Don’t be mean,” she said gently. She’d always been the gentle one, the most affectionate and the most quiet; even when Princess and Lovey were leaping all over him, barking wildly and licking his cheeks, she’d always been more inclined to come lie at his feet or by his side, warming him with her body and nuzzling him with her snout.

“Yeah, or else,” Lovey said, brandishing her fist with a wild grin. She’d always been the first one in a chase, barreling on forward even when Princess (ever the princess) had refused to move forward on account of a mud puddle in her dainty path. It was really no surprise that she’d turned into a big brash girl as a human, with muscle enough to pick Jiang Cheng up and spin him around if she wished.

Princess herself didn’t say add in anything, just looked at Jin Ling with those big wide eyes of hers, but sure enough she was as always the most effective of the bunch; Jin Ling immediately started scraping the ground with his toes and apologizing.

“I didn’t mean to be mean,” he said earnestly. “I’m sure jiujiu will be very happy with all of you, if he ever finally marries you, that is!”

Oh fuck you Jin Ling!

“Of course he will,” Princess said firmly. “After everything we went through to get back to his side, you don’t think a wedding ceremony, no matter how performed, would cause the slightest impediment?”

Jiang Cheng relaxed a little at that.

He was never going to be able to explain this to Wei Wuxian – or anyone else for that matter – without heaps and heaps of judgment, and he’d already accepted that. But it was nice to know that his wives, at least, wouldn’t judge him. That they would support him wholeheartedly, love him without reservation.

Even if, yes, this marriage was a little odd.

Whatever.

He’d figure it out later.

#mdzs #jiang cheng #jin ling #my fic #my fics #alt headcanons #you said three wives and I said huh you know what else came in three

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courtonfire · 1 year

Text

Foxxian + Dragonji bookstore/cafe, friends to lovers AU 🥰☕️📖

Lan Wangji's tail swishes with anticipation as he watches the door from behind the register.

Any minute now, his cozy, peaceful cafe/bookstore will be filled with all the chaos a Hulijing has to offer. His heart dance

The customers have long since been chased away by the small snowstorm outside, leaving the cafe in comfortable silence.

In the center of the room, surrounded by large chairs, a fire crackles eagerly, offering its heat and warm, flickering light to the space. Outside, snow drifts lazily to the ground. For now, it lays pristine and undisturbed, but it's nearly 7pm, which means any second now --

Bright laughter floats in from outside, as though carried in by a wayward snowflake. Lan Wangji sits up straighter. Its source bounces into view of the large windows a second later. Lan Wangji watches fondly as the hulijing kicks up the snow and attempts to catch falling flakes in his mouth.

The top of his head is covered by a bright red beanie, with space for his blackish-grey ears to stick out. What is visible of his long, raven hair is speckled with white spots of snow, as are the nine bushy tails behind him. The rest of him is covered by a large, black cloak with a gold pattern stitched onto it. Jyl must have gifted it to him for his birthday a few weeks ago, Lan Wangji guesses. It's a nice replacement for the ratty, faded red coat he used to wear.

As though sensing Lan Wangji's insult to his former favorite jacket, the Hulijing abruptly spins around to look through the window. Silver eyes lock onto him immediately and a wide smile stretches across the fox spirit's face, sharp fangs visible. He quickly bounds to the door, still kicking up as much snow as possible as he goes.

"Lan Zhan!!" He cries, pushing the door open. Lan Wangji isn't sure if Wei Wuxian's presence or the cold air fills the space faster, but they each slam into him with great force.

"Wei Ying." The corners of his lips tick up in a soft smile. Wei Wuxian's gaze softens ever so softly. He skips over and rests his elbows on the counter, leaning into Lan Wangji's space, the way he always does. It once irritated Lan Wangji beyond all reason, but now it feels like a relief. Like the warm sun has finally decided to kiss his chilled skin.

"What do you have for me today?" Wei Wuxian asks with an eager grin.

"Due to the weather, the special today was a hot chocolate with..." Lan Wangji intentionally trails off. It has the intended effect.

Wei Wuxian's eyes sparkle with interest. He leans a little closer.

"Oh? Is there something more?"

"Mn. Chili peppers."

Wei Wuxian gasps dramatically and reels back, out of Lan Wangji's space. It doesn't feel like a loss in the face of such clear delight.

"Chili peppers?! No way!?"

"Yes way," Lan Wangji answers mildly. Wei Wuxian tilts his head back in a laugh. "Lan Zhan, you are too much!" He declares, ears twitching happily. "I'll take one of those!"

Lan Wangji nods and sets off to make it, intentionally not charging him, as always. And as always, Wei Wuxian stuffs far too much money in the tip jar when he thinks Lan Wangji isn't looking. They fall into a comfortable silence as Lan Wangji makes the drink. Wei Wuxian browses the new arrivals section absentmindedly. When he finds one that intrigues him, he carefully tugs it out and flips through it.

"Hey, Lan Zhan," he calls just as Lan Wangji is squirting an unreasonable amount of whipped cream onto his drink, the way he knows Wei Wuxian likes. As an afterthought, he sprinkles an extra dusting of chili powder as well.

"How long do you think I've been a regular here now?"

Lan Wangji sets the drink on the counter and considers it. "Hm. Around eight months, I believe."

Eight lovely, wonderful, warm months of Wei Wuxian visiting him every evening at 7, no matter the weather or the kind of day he's had.

"Eight months? Wow," Wei Wuxian shakes his head in disbelief. He slides the book back onto the shelf and returns to the counter. He pulls the warm mug into his hands but doesn't drink from it yet.

"And..." He hesitates. Concerned curiosity teases Lan Wangji's mind. Wei Wuxian very rarely hesitates unless he's talking about something especially serious. "Do you think... um, do you think we're friends?"

Lan Wangji blinks. That was not the question he was expecting.

"Yes, of course," he answers immediately. The tension drains from Wei Wuxian's shoulder and he offers him a relieved smile.

"Okay, good. I think so too, but I wasn't sure..."

"You weren't sure I felt the same," Lan Wangji finishes for him, heart twisting painfully in his chest. "Wei Ying, I look forward to your visits every day. Getting to know you has brought me great joy over the past several months."

As he speaks, Wei Wuxian's eyes grow wider, a bright flush rising high on his cheeks. "I hope to keep you in my life for many years to come."

Wei Wuxian squeaks and lifts the mug to hide his face. "Lan Zhaaaaan," He whines, ears flat against his head. "You can't just say things like that! My heart can't take it! Are you trying to kill me?!"

Lan Wangji huffs and moves to wipe down the tools he used for the drink.

"Of course not. That would contradict my previous statement."

"Well, how am I supposed to know when you say things like that?" Wei Wuxian lowers the drink to pout at him. "It sounds genuine on the surface, but I really almost had a heart attack, er-gege! How do I know that wasn't your intention all along?!"

Lan Wangji peers at him from the corner of his eye, intentionally letting it glow a little.

"You don't," he says darkly. It gets the desired reaction.

Wei Wuxian's jaw drops in horror, but his eyes shine with glee, tails flicking happily behind him. "I knew it!" He gasps. "This has been your plan all along hasn't it?!"

Lan Wangji curls his tail around his own leg and looks away. "Maybe. Maybe not."

A wide, toothy grin cracks Wei Wuxian's mock scared expression. "Well, I've got my eye on you now, er-gege! You won't be able to take me out so easily!"

"We'll see."

Wei Wuxian laughs and finally brings the hot chocolate to his mouth. The second the liquid hits his tongue, his eyes roll back in an exaggerated moan. The pointed tips of Lan Wangji's ears burn. He hurries to cover them with his hair before Wei Wuxian notices.

"Mmmm this is so good, Lan Zhan!" He cries. "Definitely the best I've ever tasted. You may not be able to top this, honestly."

Lan Wangji preens at the high praise. "I will try my best," he promises.

Wei Wuxian grins at him. On his nose is a small dollop of whip cream. Lan Zhan leans back and tightly grips the counter behind him to prevent himself from leaning forward to kiss it off. They fall back into silence, occasionally broken by Wei Wuxian's quiet sounds of enjoyment and words of praise.

When he finishes the beverage, he leans back with a satisfied sigh, rubbing his belly happily.

"So good," he mumbles, eyes half-lidded. The combination does unspeakable things to Lan Wangji's self-control, so he busies himself with emptying the pastry cabinet in preparation for tomorrow.

Wei Wuxian watches him quietly, tails swishing lazily. When Lan Wangji absentmindedly slides him a leftover lotus cake he knows he likes, his expression turns thoughtful.

"Say, Lan Zhan," he starts, leaning forward to rest his head on his hand.

Lan Wangji hums, not looking up from his task.

"Do you happen to have any relationship advice books?"

Lan Wangji pauses.

"...Relationship advice books?"

"Mhm," Wei Wuxian confirms, watching him closely. "See, there's someone I want to woo, but I'm not sure how to go about it. I feel like I've tried everything, but nothing seems to work."

At this, his bottom lip juts out in a pout, ears drooping sadly. Lan Wangji hardly notices. A loud buzzing fills his ears, dulling his senses. He feels like a movie character in a scene where a bomb has gone off nearby. Stumbling around, shaken and confused, trying to figure out what happened. There's an empty spot where a large structure used to be and a new reality needs to be processed.

Wei Wuxian has someone he wants to woo -- someone he wants a relationship with. "And since I happen to have a friend with a cafe slash bookstore," Wei Wuxian is saying, oblivious to his plight. "I thought maybe he'd have something to help me out."

And he wants Lan Wangji's help to do it. A growl builds in his chest at the thought of helping put Wei Wuxian in another person’s arms. He forces it down, along with all the other unreasonable feelings of jealousy and bitter disappointment. No matter how bad Lan Wangji wants him to, Wei Wuxian does not belong to him. Nor does he owe him anything.

Lan Wangji developed these feelings by himself. They are his own problem. Wei Wuxian is under no obligation to return or take responsibility for them.

He is coming to Lan Wangji as a friend. And so a friend he will be.

"The self-help section is the case closest to the window. Relationship advice books are on the second shelf."

Wei Wuxian chirps his thanks and skips to the indicated location. As he browses his tongue pokes out between his teeth.

He looks so pretty like this, curious and determined. Lan Wangji wants to carry him up to his apartment upstairs and hide him from whoever is trying to steal him away. The pastry plate in his hands almost shatters from his tight grip. He rips his eyes away and still his tail that had begun flicking angrily across the floor.

It is time to do the dishes, he decides. In the back, where Wei Wuxian is well out of sight. Perhaps the sound of the rushing water will drown out his shameful thoughts.

---

"Lan Zhaaan," Wei Wuxian singsongs when Lan Wangji shuts the water off. "Come help!"

Lan Wangji takes a deep breath to brace himself, then steps back to the front. Doing the dishes did indeed help him calm down a bit. Which is good because he has a feeling things are about to get a lot worse.

Wei Wuxian fixes him with a teasing grin when he comes into view.

"Er-gege, isn't it poor business practice to leave your favorite customer all alone?"

"I did not leave my favorite customer alone. Just a regular one," Lan Wangji deadpans.

Wei Wuxian sputters. "You --! You are so mean!"

"No one believes me when I say you're the meanest person around, yet the proof is right here!"

Lan Wangji raises a brow. "No one believes that?"

Wei Wuxian deflates a little. "Yeah, okay, everyone believes that one -- but they shouldn't!"

A swirl of happiness curls in his gut. If Wei Wuxian ever thought him mean or cold and unapproachable, he did so with gleeful amusement. A rare person who appreciates a rose's thorns, even when they prick his finger.

"But still!" Wei Wuxian cries. "You're not closed yet. What if someone came in?! I called for you so many times, but you didn't answer! I would have had to make that hot chocolate myself!"

Lan Wangji shudders at the thought of anyone tasting something Wei Wuxian made with easy access to spice. "Exactly! Very irresponsible of you, er-gege," he scolds.

Lan Wangji doesn't roll his eyes, but it's a close call.

"There is a storm and I close in 15 minutes. It is unlikely someone would come in."

"You called for my help?" he reminds. "Ah, yes!" Wei Wuxian jerks upright and slides a book towards him.

'How to Get the Man of Your Dreams in 5 Simple Steps' the title reads.

The urge to burn it is so strong tendrils of smoke slip out of Lan Wangji's nose. Luckily, Wei Wuxian is too busy flipping to the table of contents to notice. "Okay, so I'm gonna read out this person's ideas one by one, and you tell me if you think they would work on you."

Lan Wangji pauses. "On me?"

Wei Wuxian hums an affirmative. His ears twitch like he's nervous, but Lan Wangji doesn't know why he would be. "Yeah, I mean, you've gotta be one the toughest nuts to crack in the whole world," he laughs, the sound a bit pitchier than normal. "So if it works on you, then it could work on anyone, right?"

"Perhaps," Lan Wangji agrees slowly. "But everyone is different."

And much less biased than he is, he doesn't say. Anything Wei Wuxian does works on him, even breathing.

"Not that different or chumps like this would never sell anything! So just listen, okay?"

"Mn."

"Alright, the first one is easy. Make eye contact."

Lan Wangji's brows scrunch. How does that count as a first step? He tries to look at the book, but Wei Wuxian sweeps it out of sight.

"Ah, ah, ah!" Wei Wuxian chides. "Don't look away. You gotta try it to know if it'll work, okay?"

Lan Wangji hesitates. "I thought you were just going to say them?"

"I will say them," Wei Wuxian confirms. "But how will you know it'll really work if you don't try it?"

That is... somewhat true. But still, this seems a bit odd.

"Just trust me, okay Lan Zhan?" Wei Wuxian looks at him with pleading eyes.

"...Mn," Lan Wangji agrees. When their eyes finally lock, Lan Wangji can suddenly no longer recall why he felt uncertain. Satisfaction swirls in those silver eyes, drawing him in like a siren's song. He's always known how beautiful they are, but never how dynamic. Every shade of grey seems to be hidden in their depths. Lan Wangji thinks he could spend hours cataloging each fleck. Maybe he could even publish the results.

"Good boy," Wei Wuxian murmurs. "Is this working for you?"

"..Mn," Lan Wangji croaks.

"Okay," Wei Wuxian says breathily. "Okay, that's good."

"All these steps need to be combined, so don't look away."

"I won't." He couldn't, even if he wanted to. Wei Wuxian has had him completely enthralled from the moment he first stepped through the door all those months ago.

"The second step says to hold their hand." Lan Wangji reaches out his hand with no hesitation. Half a beat later, warm fingers lace between his and squeeze. Oxygen shakes and rattles its way out of Lan Wangji's lungs. He squeezes back.

There's something in Wei Wuxian's eyes that Lan Wangji can't quite place. But it fills him with tentative hope. "This doing anything?"

Lan Wangji nods slowly, like honey dripping from a spoon. "Mn."

"Good," Wei Wuxian murmurs. "Third step is to smile."

A soft smile stretches across his lips, as easy as breathing. Lan Wangji has seen a lot of Wei Wuxian's smiles. Each one has a special place in his mind and in his heart, but this one may be his favorite.

"This one also works," he concludes without prompting.

Wei Wuxian chuckles and squeezes his hand again.

"I'm glad. Three out of five so far isn't bad. Maybe this book isn't total garbage."

"It does not seem to be," Lan Wangji agrees. "Fourth step?"

Wei Wuxian inhales shakily and nods. "Fourth step is to tell them what you like about them."

An emotion fleets across his face, but it hardens into determination before Lan Wangji can read it.

"Lan Zhan, you are one of the kindest men I have ever met. It is one of the world's greatest atrocities that some people are too dense and self-absorbed to see how smart, wonderful, funny, and thoughtful you are. I hate to think of what my life would look like without you in it,” he pauses to take a deep breath, then continues.

“If that's too broad, then I also like the way your eyes sparkle when you talk about the latest piece you learned on the guqin or a cute rabbit picture you saw earlier. I love how you challenge me, but never in a way that makes me less. And, in the beginning, it fascinated me how someone who seemed so cold could design a space as warm and inviting as your cafe is. I didn't believe you did it yourself for weeks, Lan Zhan!" His laughter fades into a fond smile. "But that was just because I didn't know you yet. Now I can see how it perfectly reflects you."

"Wei Ying," Lan Wangji gasps. It's a miracle Wei Wuxian's bones haven't been crushed from how tightly Lan Wangji is gripping his hand. He should lighten his hold, but his muscles refuse to comply. "Wei Ying I --"

"Step 5," Wei Wuxian stops him. The words sound as though they're stumbling out of him, like if he stops now, they may never be heard. "Is to confess your feelings and hope to the heavens that they're returned because you have no idea what you'll do if they're not."

Wei Wuxian takes a deep breath and allows his eyes to slip closed. Silence blankets the room. Lan Wangji watches him closely, his breath frozen in his lungs.

It seems Lan Wangji was wrong. The spell he's been under was not caused by those gorgeous silver orbs, but by Wei Wuxian's mere existence. Wei Wuxian visibly steels himself and when his eyes open, they pierce straight into Lan Wangji's soul.

"I love you, Lan Zhan. You're the best person I have ever known and I've been in love with you for a long time now. And, if you'll allow it, I'm sure I will be for the rest of my life."

It takes half a second for Lan Wangji to lunge over the counter and pull him into a searing kiss.

Another half second for Wei Wuxian to overcome his surprise and enthusiastically throw himself into it. Five minutes for Lan Wangji to flip the store sign to close and tug Wei Wuxian towards the stairs, their lips never parting.

10 minutes to realize he never responded and fervently whisper "I love you, I love you, I love you. Best person I've ever known. I'll love you for the rest of my life."

2 hours for them to slow down enough to actually talk things through. What they mean to each other, what they want to be, and for how long they've wanted to be it.

1 month for Lan Wangji to buy a ring and ask Wei Wuxian to marry him.

And less than a second after that for Wei Wuxian to say yes.

♥️The end♥️

I loved writing this and I hope you all enjoyed it! I wrote it for @fae-hulijing‘s birthday a couple weeks ago and loved the thought of moving it on here! It may be one of my favorite fics I’ve written!

#wangxian #mo dao su zhi #mdzs #the untamed #fanfic #cocowrites #dragonji #foxxian #coffee shop au #bookstore au #friends to lovers

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chubs-deuce · 7 months

Note

Heya! if you don't mind me asking, what is it like in your ultrakill discord server? I'm mostly wondering about its set up and atmosphere, but I'm all ears if you have anything else you'd like to mention lol

I've been looking to find more people to talk about the game with, but joining discord servers make me a bit nervous, you know?

Hope you're having a nice day!

Hiya! :D

First of all, I'm flattered you're thinking about joining our server (join link here if you need it) and I appreciate your inquiry about its insides! :D I'm sorry that this became such a long response, but I hope it gives you some peace of mind either way xD

We're currently two mods if you include me as the admin, with @cogsanity being the other, and ca 85 people total.

In terms of setup, I've designed the categories roughly after the layers of hell within the game, although the channels within don't necessarily all reflect that lol. It's more for easier sorting and visual distinction really.

Limbo is more for moderation, organization and information.

You can read up on the rules, assign yourself some roles via a reaction-roles system, write an optional introduction with the pinned template in #terminal-entries, see any announcements me or Shin make (dw we rarely ever ping @everyone unless it's dire or important, tho I also just generally use it to log changes made to the channel structures) and ask us mods if anything's unclear :3

Then we have two gen channels with some fun extra channels to dump photos and pet related things in...

...and two main art channels (a lot of us are artists), as well as extra channels for headcanons, brainstorming, AUs, OCs, off topic infodumping and memes/spam as well as a spoiler channel for screenshot saturdays hype and whenever act III may release, so that people can catch up in their own time without getting spoiled prematurely :3

Oh! And we also of course have a channel for bragging abt your high scores in and another to ask for gameplay help from more experienced players!

We have carl-bot for reaction-roles and PluralKit for systems, and while we technically also have a music bot, the one we have rn is kind of a bitch to get working the way I need it to so I'm probably going to replace that one soon, until then it's functionally not really count-able lmao.

We allow a certain amount of sex jokes for the most part (with the deliberate exception that they are never to be directed at other members) since this is a 16+ ultrakill server - however actually explicit content (i.e. memes, writing, artworks) are to be kept to their own secluded section that an access role has to be given manually for and is only given to people that are 18+. We strictly moderate in this regard to ensure it's a safe and comfortable space for everyone.

In terms of atmosphere we're all very neurodivergent and very queer :'DD some very chatty folks, some more quiet ones, lots of good jokes and an overall pretty easygoing and respectful air.

We are strictly against any and all forms of discriminatory and phobic behavior and try to encourage mutually supportive creativity.

Here's our current lineup of emotes^ (the drones spin, one slower, one faster and the sideways v1 and v2 are doing patty cakes), all of which are credited in a pinned message on-server within the emote suggestions channel.

We have an event planned for november (we're setting up a pool of server banner designs made by the members that we're then picking every month via randomizer to be the server banner for the next 30 days) and are currently cooking up another event for around christmas as well >:3.

We also have a minecraft realm with extra channels for that purpose (locked behind a self-assign role just so it's not visible and bothersome to people that have no interest in it) and try to do somewhat weekly activities such as gartic phone, magma and I've also heard talks of a karaoke night being attempted soon, as well as some jackbox and cards against humanity being considered some time :D

Since this server is a very chatty one that loves hanging out en masse in vc, we've set up 5 main voice channels:

one for specifically art streams

one for game streams (or really streams in general, we often have some artists stream art on the side while another streams gameplay lmao)

one for just talking

one for activities like gartic phone

and because people tend to get overwhelmed with more than 5 people in vc, we also have a limited capacity vc for those that prefer a calmer hangout spot :3.

There might be more added in the future depending on activity and demand tho.

As a frame of reference, when we did the gartic phone session last weekend, we were ca 16 people in vc, and we only lasted about 3 rounds before everyone got a headache from overstimulation and needed to log off or split up into the campfire vc lmfao.

I'm surprised that one went as well as it did though, since it was very chaotic but still in a very controlled and fun way. VC sessions rarely get that big anyways, but I'm very glad that when they do, it's not pure, unadulterated, deafening chaos and that the means we've provided for self-managing your needs do get used as intended :').

Also just as a sidenote, there's a lot of users on there that are also floating around the main Ultrakill tag frequently, so I'm sure you'll recognize a few familiar faces if you do decide to join :3.

#long post #ultrakill #chubs answers

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beevean · 2 years

Text

Let Go

AU where Eggman’s base isn’t falling apart during the Sonic vs. Surge fight, but she is.

(or: Sonic actually being nice to Surge wasn’t included in her programming)

Warnings: sporadic swearing, violent thoughts, self-loathing/borderline suicidial thoughts.

I put all the changes from canon in the notes.

AO3 link: here.

“You can’t let Sonic the Hedgehog roam free. He is a manipulative gaslighter, who has the whole world wrapped around his little finger. He will look down on you and pretend to feel sorry for you, but don’t be fooled: his only priority is himself and his amusement. He’ll pretend to offer choices to people, but he only wants them to do what he wants. He’s a hypocrite who has no respect for anyone. He’s not worthy to be called a ‘hero’. You have to stop him.”

“Wow, doc, this Sonic sure sounds like a jerk. Guess I have some competition, haha!”

“All I have is this! And ‘this’ is nothing! I’m nobody! I-I-I’m just a knockoff! Everything I want – that I think I want – is a lie!”

And yet it was that same lie that kept Surge going, the reason she didn’t jump off the first building she could find after finding out the truth about herself. (that, and she didn’t care to test just how enhanced her healing powers were.)

She had no idea who Sonic was, she could barely tell how he looked like. She only knew that he was a self-righteous bastard pretending to be a hero, and he was free to do as he pleased without a care in the world, and people worshipped him, and she wouldn’t be able to rest until she beat his life out of his stupid face.

Who cared if it was true or not? Did it matter if they were the artificial thoughts of a knockoff?

(The number on the doctor’s tape was burned in her brain: it took 232 sessions with that stupid Hypno Glove until she could say with confidence that she hated Sonic. Maybe she had always been stubborn, even before the platypus played with her braincells.)

Sonic deserved to feel the same pain and despair Surge was drowning in.

What did he do to deserve to be free and loved anyway?

SLAM!

The sound of Sonic’s spine hitting the metal fencing was music to her ears.

He groaned and rubbed his side. “Excuse me, and you would be…?”

Finally, she had him in her grasp. The cause of her pain. The idiot she was forced to resemble. Sonic the Hedgehog, looking as dumb as she imagined him.

“I’m Surge the Tenrec. And it’s all your fault I was made!” She pointed an electrified finger at him. “You useless excuse of a ‘hero’! Why didn’t you kill the doctor when you had the chance, huh? Too afraid of sullying your perfect little hands??”

Sonic just smiled, he smiled in her face, that arrogant little bastard. “Heh, that Eggman just refuses to die, no matter what I throw at him!” he quipped.

“Not him, I don’t care about him! The other one! Starlame!”

“Starline? The Eggman fanboy?” Sonic narrowed his eyes, daring to look confused. “I barely even met the guy! I thought he died under an avalanche he caused! How was I supposed to know that he’d come back and play mad scientist?”

“Then you were lazy!” she retorted without missing a beat. She knocked her fists together, making sparks fly in Sonic’s face. “Just roll over and let me replace you! I won’t be weak like you! Your speed of sound can’t compete with my speed of light!”

“Prove it,” he smirked.

A storm descended upon the battlefield.

Surge exploded. Every step, every jump, every Spin Dash rumbled like thunder, and was as bright as lightning. She was everywhere at the same time, she was power, she was fury.

Sonic, on the other hand, danced. Silent, effortless, focused, completely in his element, like a gust of wind you couldn’t see but you could feel on your skin. He dodged every attack of hers with such grace that it pissed her off. He wasn’t taking this seriously. He wasn’t taking her seriously.

Of course. Surge wasted months racing in neatly prepared circuits, controlled environments. Sonic had been a hero in the real world for years. She may have been more powerful… but he had a better idea of what he was doing.

Sonic was the entire reason her life was torn apart. Surge was just yet another nuisance for him.

Oh, but she’ll show him, she will show him alright that she wasn’t to be underestimated! She would take that grin, and crack it, and fry his useless brain into mush

like mine was and what did i do to deserve it and if i can’t have my thoughts back then you shouldn’t be able to think at all

But for every punch Surge would throw at Sonic, he responded with a kick; their Spin forms clashed, sending sparks everywhere; her body would ache in waves, trying to heal as quickly as possible from the hits, while Sonic simply wiped the sweat off his brow.

“It’s been a while since I’ve fought like this! You’re pretty strong, lady!”

Was he having fun? Was he making fun of her??

“You wanna see strong? You ain’t seen nothing yet!” Surge yelled all the rage she had in her lungs, and lunged at him, electricity propelling and enveloping her. But before she could stop in her tracks, Sonic did a breakdancing move that ended with a kick that sent her in the air; before she could reorient himself, a strong blow to her head sent her face to the ground.

As if her head hadn’t been scrambled enough already…

Surge rose to her hands and knees, her vision swimming and pulsating.

“Geez, you can’t even take a compliment? Yeah, I get it, you hate me and want to destroy me.” That odious voice was now coming from above her. Surge lifted her head, and there he was, perched on rubble, arms tightly crossed on his chest and a neutral, almost bored expression. Look at him, looking down on her like she wasn’t even worth his time, just to rub it in her face that he was superior. Oh, how she wanted to climb there, drag him down by his quills and yank them out of his skull…

Sonic cocked his head on the side. “I don’t know what your deal is, but it seems like that Starline guy is the one who hurt you, right? But instead of going after him, you’re focusing on me, and I haven’t even done anything to you. Why? Usually people who have beef with me have been tricked…”

Why.

why why why why why

Surge hated that word, hated that question, she didn’t want to think, thinking led to pain and tears and her brain getting melted and reshaped…

Electricity crackled all over her, raising her fur. She rose to her feet and she cried the one truth she didn’t want to admit:

“I DON’T KNOW!!”

The weight of her outburst hit her in the gut like one of Sonic’s kicks. She didn’t know what she was doing, she was hitting and punching and kicking and screaming because that was all she was good for, that was what she was designed for, and it wasn’t like she could know who she really was under all the robotics implanted in her and the code shoved in her brain and the trauma she was forced to forget.

“I want to kill you, I need to, it won’t– it won’t leave my head!” she sobbed - no she didn’t, she yelled, she was angry, just angry, that was the only emotion she could feel. “I don’t care about why anymore, I just know that I need to! I won’t be happy until I see you and that quack doctor dead! Then I’ll be free!”

Sonic raised his eyebrows.

“Free from what?”

“From… from… from you! From me! From whoever I am!”

“I don’t think it works like that.”

“Good thing I couldn’t care less about what you think!”

“That’s fair, but I still don’t understand.”

“Doesn’t matter. Shut up.”

“How do you know…”

“Shut up!”

“... that taking me out would make you happy? I know a guy who had thoughts put into his head – let me guess, Starline did the same to you, right? That's why you’re out for his blood.” He wrinkled his nose. “I don’t blame you: that’s disgusting.”

Surge stared at him, stunned despite her will. Huh, maybe he wasn’t a complete moron.

Sonic hopped from the rock, almost… crestfallen? “Listening to those fake thoughts... would only lead to fake happiness and freedom,” he said in a soft tone. “That sounds sadder than whatever you’re feeling right now.”

Those simple words crushed Surge.

Would she never be happy?

Was she destined to stay like that? Broken and useless and angry at everything and nothing? Until she died, assuming that she could?

No don’t listen to him, he just– he just–

He scratched his nose and looked to the side. “I don't have a solution for your problem, but maybe you should try to find yourself again – or reinvent yourself! You know that you don’t really want what you think you want, so—”

“SHUT UP!!!”

Thunder and lightning rained all around her, and squashed her stupid thoughts; no time to mope, she wouldn’t leave that room until Sonic was left rotting in a corner. She jumped and kicked at him; Sonic sighed, took her leg and swung her on the ground.

“Orrrr we could keep this up all day. Your choice.”

Surge rose again, blinded with rage, only Sonic in her sight.

I hate you I hate you I hate you, I will never stop hating you, this is me now

this is all I have left

i won’t let it be taken away from me

Good thing the doctor didn’t install vertigo in her brain, because had she been a normal person, the pitch black of the pit she was dangling over would have made her sick.

This couldn’t be it. She couldn’t lose in such a pathetic way before grinding the heads of the idiots who took everything from her! If only she could reach the edge of the pit… but it was too high up, and the metal slid off her fingertips…

“Surge!”

Oh, fuck no. Not him!

The blue loser appeared in her vision, eyes wide like saucers. He looked ridiculous.

“Take my hand, quick!”

What? “No!” She waved her own electrified hand. “Do you think I’m this dumb?”

“Surge, I’m not going to hurt you, I want to help you!”

“I don’t care! Get it through your thick skull – I don’t want your help!”

“You’re going to die!”

“So what? What, aren’t you going to give me the freedom to die like the good hero you are?” she sneered. Hypocrite.

Something resembling a frown passed onto Sonic’s face, yes go away, give up, give up for once, give up on me like everyone did

But instead he pushed himself further, stretching his arm like he wanted to tear it off his body. What was he doing?

My life isn’t worth this much effort.

She laughed, her voice coming off shriller than she wanted. “If-if you rescue me like I’m some sort of princess, I’ll… I’ll beat you so hard that your little friend won’t be able to recognize you. You can stick your ‘mercy’ up your ass. You hear me?” She made sure to show her fangs for good measure.

Sonic just looked at her, then shrugged. He was even dumber than she thought.

“Almost… there…”

His whole body was almost upside down, and Surge wanted to step back, she couldn’t have him so close to her, but her fingers were already getting sore around the metal girder and she couldn’t move a muscle.

“You dumbass!” she shouted. “You’re about to fall! And for what? Don’t you dare die in this lame way, I have to be the one putting you in your grave!”

He was ignoring her now, how he wasn’t toppling over she had no idea, his fingers were now too close to hers, almost brushing hers, she couldn’t move…

no don’t touch me

get away from me

if you do

if you go all this way for me

i’d rather

Sonic grabbed her hand.

“I gotcha!” he grinned.

ZAP!

A yelp, and Surge was let go.

“Last hit, I win,” she mumbled, before falling down.

Her name almost reached her before the bellowing of the wind drowned everything.

Surge felt numb, only vaguely aware of her clothes and quills fluttering all around her. Heh, guess she’d discover soon the extent of her regenerative powers. Nothing to worry about. If she survived, she’d decide what to do next; if she didn’t, welp, nothing of value would be lost.

Her throat hurt. She comforted herself remembering the horror that she managed to glimpse on the faker boy’s face. Yes! She made him suffer, just a little, like he deserved.

why does he?

It didn’t matter. His pain made her a little happier and that was what counted.

She blinked rapidly. Why was her vision so blurry?

What are you doing? Stop it! Sonic isn’t a crybaby, is he? And I’m better than him!

Her confused thoughts circled back to the only truth in her fake mind: it was all his fault. That good-for-nothing, pathetic, self-absorbed, egomaniac goody-two-shoes. He made her sick to her stomach.

She was disgusted at the pity on his face, as if she was a poor thing to feel sorry for, he was supposed to be terrified of her, to beg for mercy as she crushed his head under her shoe, not treat her as a charity project.

She was disgusted at the thought of being indebted to him, of him lording his superiority over her, never, she’d never give him the satisfaction, she was better than him.

And most of all, she was disgusted at the idea that he might have actually cared about her.

Yeah, as if. Who would care about a knockoff? Only that Drippy does, and he had to have his personality wiped out. That jerk just wanted to feel good about himself and how much of a selfless noble hero he is. Yuck. And people love the real deal.

But the compassion in Sonic's eyes only left Surge’s mind when her body slammed onto the metal below.

#sonic the hedgehog #surge the tenrec #idw sonic #beev's writing #obligatory 'i'm not a writer' disclaimer #nobody:#surge: !!!!!!!!!!!!#surge is not my fave but her pov is very intriguing #her surface personality is shallow enough that it's hard to write her ooc #but there's more bubbling under it #she's also both self aware and an unreliable narrator #i tried my hand at at least implying some fighting and welp #maybe one day i'll tackle the inherent fuckedupness of kit being programmed to not have his own identity #but it's too creepy even for me

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refinedstorage · 1 year

Text

Just a little personal rundown I shared with a moot a while back, if you're looking to get into the Yakuza franchise but don't know where to start bc it's a bit overwhelming in terms of chronology and remasters/spin offs

Disclaimer so many gamers so many opinions etc etc but here's my personal take:

Tldr; start with Yakuza 0 or Judge Eyes/Judgment 1 Japanese dub

Also if you go in expecting a progressive romp don't be surprised if a game series about the literal patriarchy hits you with the literal patriarchy

The series peaked with Y0, it doesn't get better from there so that's the best entry point in my book you need to experience that ending and realize Majima is nothing like what fandom makes him out to be

I could gush on about the tight combat and cool retro vibes but this is peak Yakuza and if you want to experience the series at its best start here

Kiwami 1 and 2 are mostly why mainstream fandom is The Way It Is, I don't recommend starting with those, they're at the bottom of my personal list even tho they feature neat characters (also K2 Majima Saga will emphasize the discrepancy between early games comedic foil Majima and later games Majima)

Y1/2 would make for the more authentic experience I guess, I think the PS2 era retro vibes are extra 👌✨

Y3 is a bad entry point because it's the jankiest and oldest of the bunch and it revolves heavily around Kiryu in the close proximity of children which is a total crime but it does have the absolute Character of All Time so there's that

Y4 is the dryest but I say that affectionately and while the plot gets flak for demanding some serious suspension of disbelief it has amazing character moments and personal faves. Overall a weird in the middle kinda affair technically and in terms of presentation, also quite janky still, but has amazing character moments

Y5 is in my top 3 it's just too much fun but it's quite a bite due to its scale and can be an overwhelming first. Would pay money for a skip Saejima's chapter mod.

You think you don't like J-pop shenanigans you have not played Haruka's chapters. Also Shinada ❤️

Y6 is the last (allegedly, at the time) in the lead character's saga (who is not a Nice Man btw, don't let fandom fool you) so that's a bad entry point too because none of the references will make sense or have full impact, plus it just lacks the series' previous thunder

It just felt superfluous to me, idk I just went through it feeling totally apathetic but that was mostly because the faves had less than 5 minutes of cumulative screentime and the antagonist were not that interesting and the rest is just Kiryu being irresponsible and boneheaded. Someya coulda been So Neat but ended up a being a total nothingburger. Technically a solid game tho.

Y7 I just can't get through I keep rage quitting I can't think of a single nice thing to say about it at this point but your mileage may vary if you like turn based RPGs and if the main characters and story click for you. I just don't vibe with this title and cast and tone at all 🤷‍♀️

Yakuza Ishin is great, beautiful combat, and Hanpeita the main attraction I'm so sad they'll replace the actor and fiddle with the combat system for the upcoming re release. Also not the AU you'd expect it to be, just a stand alone story with recognizable faces & voices. I really thought they'd put more relevance towards the character's AU counterparts but there's not 🤷‍♀️

killer OST tho, great fun all together

Judgment 1/Judge Eyes is great fun and you get some of the best instances of Kamurocho. It also paints the most realistic version of the underworld right up until when the plot takes a deep dive into silly territory. Some pacing issues too. I had high hopes for this spin off series coming out of J1 but then J2/Lost Judgment happened and it's just atrocious with some neat moments and characters scattered throughout. Still I think you'd get more out of J1 if you were familiar with the mainline series first 🤔

J2 I can't recommend, the combat is great fun but they reduced Yagami to ridiculous levels of all round video game swanky man and the story/pacing is horrid and ppl call it grounded and gritty but in terms of tone and chummy vibes I consider it the josh whedonification of yakuza ~~and I'm not even taking about the completely mismatched English dubs~~

so yeah just my personal recs based on my Yakuza journey! With a series this broad and long running different entries will cater to different tastes but honestly you can't go wrong with Y0 and J1

#half rec list half vent post i guess 🤭#txt #yakuza #*yakuza

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shingekinosimpson · 2 years

Text

You Had Me At B Minor: Chapter 1

Pairing: Jean Kirschtein x Marco Bodt

Other relationships: Reibert, Springles, Historia x Ymir, Levi x Hange, a smidge of Jearmin

Rating: Mature

Summary: Jean's band needs a new bass player. Cue freckled Jesus.

Warnings/tags: Long fic, slow burn, Jean POV, British AU with cannon locations, northern Jean, Unsigned band AU, nonbinary Armin, I promise there will be smut eventually! drinking, mentions of death, descriptions of domestic violence, panic attacks, see start of chapter for more specific trigger warnings

************************************

Trigger warnings: None

You are a past sinner, the last winner and everything we've come to

It makes you, you

“Okay, well nice to meet you we’ll be in touch!

I hear Connie closing the front door.

“Errr no we won’t!” shouts Eren as Connie comes back in the living room. “That was hands down the worst version of Come As You Are I have ever heard. Like I actually think he might have ruined the song for me.”

“Yeah. I can hear Cobain spinning in his fucking grave,” I huff. “You know you don’t have to say that to everyone that auditions Con?”

Connie looks at me sheepishly and shrugs. “Yeah Jean I know, I just felt so bad for him,” he says, struggling to keep the smirk off his face.

Eren dramatically flops onto Connie’s couch with a whoomph. “Ugh! Are we nearly done? I can’t take much more of these Melvins that can’t play their fucking instruments!” There’s a South Park reference I haven’t heard in a while I think snorting. “This has been a fucking disaster!” he grumbles into the couch cushion.

I’m with him on that point. It’s been a long and frankly, fucking awkward afternoon. Finding a replacement bass player for our band is not as easy as I had anticipated. I’ll admit, when I first found out Marlowe was going travelling for a year I was…well, relieved. I mean sure we grew up with the guy but recently...he’s turned into a bit of a wanker to be honest. He fell in with this hipster crowd at his uni about a year ago and his taste in music dramatically changed. Much for the worse in my opinion. We could all tell he wasn’t bothered about the band anymore. And that fucking ironic bowl cut of his was just embarrassing man! So yeah, when he announced his impending departure, I was glad. But after the ear-raping I've had this afternoon I'm actually starting to miss the guy. At least he can fucking play!

Connie snickers at Eren, grabbing himself a handful of Maltesers from the packet on the table. “There’s only one more person. Actually it’s the guy Armin knows.”

I turn towards Connie, raising my eyebrows. “Armin knows him?” I don’t have many people in my life who I fully trust, but Armin has always been a solid friend. I can’t count the number of times their advice has got me through shit. I feel a bit more optimistic about the next guy now. If Armin's recommended him, there's little chance of them being a total douchebag.

“Oh yeah him,” Eren cuts in, turning his head to the side, his voice is no longer muffled by the cushion. “He text me asking about it. He works at Armin's coffee shop. He only moved to Trost a few of months ago but apparently used to play in a wedding band so Armin told him about us and gave him my number.”

“Christ, let’s prepare ourselves for Sex is on Fire and Mustang Sally then,” I deadpan. Both Connie and Eren laugh at that, though Connie’s laugh sounds a bit weird through all the chocolate and honeycomb he has stuffed in his face.

“Hey even the best of us venture down that dark road from time to time!” Connie chirps after swallowing his colossal mouthful of treats.

It’s true. When we were just starting out and a bit desperate for gigs, we turned to the dark side that is weddings and parties. Mostly through our relatives, our friend’s relatives and Connie’s Mam’s best friend’s sister (I swear that woman knows fucking everyone). I expected it to be a bit tedious and frustrating - not being able to play our own material - but to be honest, it's taught us a lot and is usually, hella fun.

Connie seems to attract all the tipsy middle-aged women with his cheeky smile, which usually leads to him being dared to flash a bit of skin or give one of them a kiss on the cheek. My permanent scowl, luckily, saves me from the same fate. After a couple of drinks, Eren is always more than happy accept requests, letting his secret affinity for cheesy music run amok, while Marlowe and I would begrudgingly play on. I’d always let Eren take over the mic when that happens. I’ll happily sing some wedding favourites but even I will draw the line at Katy Perry. Though I have to say, a slightly tipsy Eren belting out Roar is a sight to behold. Plus he’d often end up back at the hotel room of one of the bridesmaid’s (or groomsman on a couple of occasions) when the party ended. We all take the piss out of these types of gigs because it’s not what we’d prefer to be doing, but I know if we got offered one, we’d all take it hands down. Oh right, except we still don’t have a goddamn bass player.

“Ugh, I’m bored,” I complain stretching my arms above my head. “You wanna have a kick-about outside?” I ask turning to Connie.

“Yeah okay.” He swings his knees in the air and jumps up from the sofa with all the grace of a clown on a trampoline. “You comin’ Eren?” he asks, striding over and jabbing him in the ass with his foot.

“Fucking hell Connie, ow! Don’t damage the crowd pleaser!” he yells, wiggling his ass at us for good measure.

“You fucking wish Jaeger,” I say, giving him another dig with my Vans and making him yelp. “Come on Con.” I grab my slouchy grey beanie, roll the sleeves back down on my plaid shirt and follow Connie down the hall. Now that Spring is starting to put Winter back in its place, I no longer feel the need to bundle up, but there’s still a bite to the wind. Looking at Connie, however, you’d be forgiven for thinking Summer has arrived early. No matter the temperature, if the sun is shining then you can bet Connie will throw his shorts on. At least they’re dark camouflage today and not some god-awful Hawaiian pattern.

We would rarely choose to have a kick-about if we were at our own place or Eren’s place, but there’s something about Connie’s parent’s house that makes me feel really nostalgic. I can’t count the number of times we’ve done just this – kick a ball that’s seen better days around the drive, laughing when one of us inevitably does something very unathletic. Though thankfully those embarrassing instances have lessened the older we’ve gotten.

“Connie c’mon pass the ball you dick.” I try to sound pissed but my grin is giving me away. The glee on Connie’s face is hysterical.

“No!...Dude I might…actually beat…my record!” he breathes wheezily between thumps of the ball on his foot.

“I’d hardly call 24 keepy-ups a record.”

“23…24…haha! 25 26…27!” he practically squeals, the ball finally hitting the floor. “YES! In your face Jean!”

He’s swinging his leg back, I suddenly realise, with the intent of blasting the ball right at me. I duck out of the way just in time, feeling the breeze of the ball flying past my head. I look up, about to make a smart remark, when I see the colour drain from Connie’s face, his ecstatic expression changing into one of horror.

“Oh my god I am so fucking sorry,” he says gravely, bringing his hands up to his mouth.

Confused, I turn around and am confronted with, frankly, a pretty amusing sight. A guy in a blue denim shirt and black skinny jeans clutching the right side of his face. The left side is wearing an awkward smile and a smattering of freckles. Locks of thick, dark hair hang slightly above his eyebrows. He has a guitar strapped to his back.

“S’alright,” he says meekly and forces a light chuckle. I try really hard to supress my smile.

“Aw shit, you okay? Sorry, that was meant for me,” I say walking towards him to assess the damage done by Connie.

He lets his hand drop from his face and smiles with a bit more enthusiasm, revealing bright white teeth. “Yeah I’m okay. Luckily your ball seems in dire need of an air pump so no damage done.”

“It’s Marco right? Armin’s friend?” asks Connie taking a step forward and stretching out his hand. “Again, I’m so sorry man I didn’t see you there! I’m Connie.”

“It’s fine honestly!” he says breezily and I actually believe him. I mean, I know it was an accident but if a couple of randoms had smacked me in the face with a ball I think I’d be pretty pissed about it. As it was, he genuinely didn’t seem to mind. “Yeah, Marco, Armin’s friend. Nice to meet you Connie,” he replies shaking Connie’s hand. He turns towards me and smiles brightly. It takes me a second to realise he’s offering me his hand next.

“Oh,” I say slightly flustered and finally remember to give him my hand. “Hey. I’m Jean.”

“Good to meet you Jean,” he replies warmly. Usually when people are so nice right off the bat like this I’m immediately distrustful of them. You never know where you stand with ‘nice’ people. Like, people with big cheesy grins and a slightly robotic way of speaking. I just assume they’re closet sociopaths and hiding something really fucked up like a giant collection of ivory dildos or a sexual fetish for oranges or some shit. But Marco didn’t put me on edge like other ‘nice’ people. His genuineness seemed to pour out of him like warm water into a soothing bath – comforting. He said it was good to meet me and I believe him. I quickly decide he's a good guy and I can see myself getting along with him.

“Well come on in,” says Connie, gesturing for Marco to follow him through the front door. “We’ve got our kit set up in the front room where there’s more space. You can use that amp there,” he points into the room before continuing down the hall. “EREN! Marco’s here!”

Marco and I go through and I have to wonder what he thinks about the décor in here. No-one really uses the front room from what I gather, so it never gets the same attention as everywhere else in the house. One wall is covered in a stuffy looking navy and pink, floral wallpaper - that I’m sure would have been the height of elegance in the 90s. This is the backdrop for a huge, overbearing, white marble fireplace, absolutely stuffed with family photos - younger versions of Eren and I appear on a couple of them with Connie. The opposite wall is a sea of shelves and books, which I've always found weird considering I’ve never seen anyone in Connie’s family so much as glance at a book in all the years I’ve been coming here. A half-hung hammock lies slumped in the corner next to an old office chair with one arm. There’s also a mahogany coffee table (I think they got that when Connie’s Granma passed away) pushed against the wall and a small, canary yellow IKEA sofa. All very random, but if Marco thinks so, he doesn’t let it show on his face.

I watch as he slides the strap off his broad shoulders and unzips the guitar case. He pulls out a deep-red, 5 string Fender Bass. Nice. Really nice. A bit scratched up in places but a good-looking guitar. I reach for the amp lead and pass it to him. “Nice Fender. You had it long?"

“Thanks,” he says, taking the lead from me. “Yeah, it was actually my Dad’s so I’ve had it a long time.”

He smiles but there's definitely something a little off in his expression so I change the subject. “Eren said you used to play in a band. You guys get many gigs?”

His expression brightens a little at that. “Yeah quite a few! There’s a lot of wedding venues in and around Jinae despite its size so we did okay.” Jinae. I remember going on holiday there when I was younger. I vaguely recall there being a beach and I definitely remember a pretty awesome park where I spent a whole day playing games with a bunch of local kids I didn’t even know, my Mam and Dad laughing and joking with the other parents. Makes sense for a nice guy like Marco to come from such a friendly place.

“Oh Jinae? I think I went on holiday there once. Nice place. There’s a beach right?”

“Yeah that’s right,” he replies enthusiastically and I swear his eyes sparkle ever so slightly. “It’s a shame Trost isn’t nearer the coast.” His eyes start to dull as he mulls this over, looking a little wistful. He’s clearly fond of the place and I find myself wondering why he moved. My hand twitches as if it wants to reach out and comfort him but I stop myself. What the fuck are you doing Jean? You just met the guy! The sounds of snickering and shuffling feet coming down the hall snap me out of my musings.

“Hey Marco! Good to finally meet you,” Eren says offering a hand slap in stark contrast to Marco’s earlier polite handshake.

“Yeah you too! Thanks for letting me come along. Armin said it would be fine but I didn’t want to just drop in on you without checking,” Marco replies sheepishly, rubbing the back of his neck.

“Nah man it’s totally fine. You all set up?”

“Uh, yeah! I’m good to go.” He looks a little caught off guard.

“Okay cool just in your own time man.”

Eren and Connie flop down on the couch as I fold my arms. Marco eyes me nervously, looking from my face to them.

“Oh, I’m good standing man. It feels too much like the fucking X-Factor if we all sit in a row staring at you.” Marco gives an airy chuckle and seems to relax a little bit.

“Yes. You do bare an uncanny resemblance to Sharon Osbourne Connie,” Eren says with the most serious fucking face I’ve ever seen and we all crack up. Marco doubles over his guitar slightly as I throw my head back laughing.

“Fuck off!” cries Connie, laughing as he mercilessly attacks Eren. “That literally makes no fucking sense!” Eren can do nothing but giggle while he’s pummelled. I notice Marco smiling at our stupidness and flexing his fingers, seemingly a lot more relaxed and ready to go now.

“Sorry Marc- Connie quit it!” Eren shoves Connie back onto his side of the sofa. “Whenever you’re ready.”

Marco’s face falls serious, though not nervous, as he looks down at his instrument. Shit. Suddenly I realise I’m nervous. What if he’s shit!? I think I’ve already decided Marco’s the guy we’ve been waiting for all day. All of us seem at ease around him, or at least I know I am. I mean, he’s only been in the house two seconds and we’ve shared a laugh together. Not just an awkward titter but real, throaty laughter. Plus, he's still here despite the fact we smacked him in the face with a ball earlier. What if he's just as bad as the others? Luckily, I don't wait long to find out.

Marco’s strong fingers begin plucking and I’m instantly hit with a vivid memory of myself. Skinny, 15, rummaging through my step sister’s old CD collection, after she’d buggered off to uni, and finding Toxicity. System of a Down…shit, what was the fucking song called?…Aerials! Christ I haven’t heard this in ages. What a tune. But…I feel my stomach drop a little. It’s a bit basic for a bass riff. Could he not have chosen something a bit more impressive for an au-

Oh Shit! Suddenly he switches it up into Red Hot Chilli Peppers – Can’t Stop, his fingers moving double time compared to seconds ago. Then he changes again to Master of Puppets, Love Buzz, Schism, each one blending seamlessly into the next. Fuck. I notice Eren and Connie exchange a look. Next comes Hysteria by Muse. Fucking flawless. Bastard. That song is my Achilles heal. I can never get it perfect, but he does it without missing a note, his black hair bobbing and flopping over his forehead as he gets lost in the music. Oh my god…the battle music from Final Fantasy VII! Out the corner of my eye, I see Connie fucking beaming at me and I duck my head, trying not to grin like an idiot right back at him. I train my eyes back on Marco and notice he’s grinning to himself too (though seemingly oblivious to us) as he finishes off with a snippet of the Pac-Man theme.

I release a breath I don't realise I was holding. He doesn’t suck. In fact he’s fucking incredible. Thank god! He suddenly remembers there's three other people in the room with him and glances up. Awkwardly scratching the back of his neck (a nervous tic of his I guess), he gives us a lopsided smile. Jeez he looks so…modest! A completely different person compared to the assured musician we just witnessed. Connie (as per) is the first one to break the silence.

“Dude that was fucking awesome!” he squawks, jumping to his feet.

“Jesus Connie don’t scare the guy off by jizzing your fucking pants!” retorts Eren. I stifle a snort.

“Oh come on Eren. He’s easily the best we’ve heard all day let’s not beat around the fucking bush,” Connie argues sounding a little irritated. “Marco, seriously man that was great.”

Marco’s eyes are wide as he takes in Connie and Eren’s exchange. “Wow, err, thanks,” he offers with a nervous laugh. Then he glances at me but can’t quite catch my eye, perhaps worried I still haven’t said anything because I disagree. I feel bad for making the guy look so unsure of himself. It’s kind of adorable.

“Yeah,” I smile. “Seriously Marco that was great, and a bit of a relief after some of the horrendous shit we’ve heard today.” He smiles softly and I notice his shoulders melt back down.

“Okay so I think we’re all agreed,” Eren says glancing round at Connie and I. Then he turns to Marco. “We try to practise at least once a week with all of us. Sometimes, if a couple of us are free, we’ll squeeze in an extra one. Wednesday nights are usually best but we pretty much play everything by ear depending on people’s work schedules. That sound good to you?”

“Yeah that sounds great!” says Marco beaming at all of us in turn.

“Awesome. Welcome to The 104th,” grins Eren offering Marco another hand slap.

I smile warmly, entertained by how happy and relieved Marco is. Well, until he looks my way and catches me staring. Way to look like an absolute fucking dork I chastise, blushing as I quickly focus on my feet instead.

“Ugh! Thank god it’s finally sorted!” sighs Connie, throwing his head and arms back against the couch. Then just as quickly, he’s full of energy again. “Right, that’s enough music for today let’s go stuff our faces. There’s still plenty of snacks left and my rents won’t be back ‘til late.” He gets to his feet, with Eren following suit.

“Hey Marco,” I venture. “If you’re not doing anything you’re welcome to hang out for a bit.”

“Yeah,” Connie adds. “My mam always leaves enough to feed a small army when she knows we’re gonna be around. Come help us out.”

“Okay sounds good. Is it okay if I just leave my bass in here?” Jesus, the guy’s so freakin’ polite! I think with a smirk.

“Yeah man no sweat,” says Connie following Eren out the door and back down the hall.

_____________________________________

The rest of the night is spent taking turns on Fortnite and working our way through the mountain of treats and finger food we have left. Marco doesn’t stay all evening, but he sticks around long enough for me to know he wasn’t just being polite when he accepted our invitation, and I’m glad for the opportunity to learn more about him. I find out that his mam decided to move here to be closer to his aunties and uncle, and that he lives with her and his younger sister not too far from here. He’s keen to start looking for his own place but wanted to live with his family at first while they all found their feet. He talks about Jinae a lot but doesn’t mention his dad again. I decide not to press the issue.

“Jean here, your turn.” Connie holds the controller out to me.

“Huh? Nah I’m good man you keep it.” I turn back to Marco who’s devouring a bag of Haribo’s like no-one’s business. “So do you work full-time at the coffee shop with Armin?”

“At Bean’s? No I just work there on Saturdays. I’m actually, err, a nursery school teacher the rest of the week.” His cheeks flush a light pink as looks at me, clearly apprehensive about my reaction.

“A nursery teacher!?” I say shocked. And I genuinely am, but then just as quickly, I’m not shocked at all. Marco has such a calm and nurturing aura. I can totally picture him with a bunch of little kids. That big smile of his nearly splitting his face in half as he helps them finger paint or build sandcastles or whatever the hell little kids do these days. He looks a little taken aback by my reaction and I instantly regret it. “I mean…shit. I…sorry I guess I just didn’t expect someone in a band to also work in a nursery. But that’s cool, as long as you enjoy it or whatever.”

His cheeks flush a little deeper but he’s smiling again. “Yeah I really enjoy it actually. The hours aren’t quite full-time though which is why I also work at Bean’s. Kind of different from the nursery but great for meeting people. I didn’t really know many people except my family when we moved but since working at Bean’s, I’ve made a few new friends like Armin.”

“Shit. Must be weird having to start over like that.”

“It was at first but having those two jobs helped me get used to things quickly. Plus living with my family meant I wasn’t coming home to an empty house every day.”

“Yeah I guess. Not sure I could live with my mam again though,” I say with a short laugh. Marco just smiles at me. “Do you get to see your friends from Jinae much?” I ask.

“No not really. I had some close friends from uni but we’ve all kind of moved on to different places so it’s difficult to meet up. Though one of my teacher training friends got a job in a school just outside of Trost, so I’ve met up with him a couple of times since coming here.”

The next hour passes just like that. Marco and I in easy conversation, Connie and Eren occasionally giving their two cents between battles on Fortnite. I feel uncommonly relaxed around Marco and I’m just a little disappointed when he says he has to head off.

“You’ve got all our numbers now right?” Eren asks as Marco stands to leave.

“Yeah got them.”

“Okay well like I said earlier we’re not sure when we’re practising next but it will probably be on Wednesday or Thursday night. One of us will let you know.”

“Oh and we’ll text you the address of the studio too,” Connie chips in.

“Ha! Studio might be a bit of a stretch for a rental space down the industrial end of town Con. Don’t build Marco’s hopes up,” I smirk.

Marco grins. "Okay sounds good. See you guys later in the week then."

“See you!” Eren and Connie reply simultaneously, turning back to the TV.

I follow Marco back down the hall to the front room without really realising what I’m doing. He looks a little surprised too when he notices. “Here mate let me grab that,” I say reaching down to disconnect the amp and pass his bass up to him.

“Thanks Jean, and tell Connie thanks for feeding me. I ate more than my fair share of sweets. Reckon I owe him a few bags,” he laughs lightly, zipping his guitar case up.

“Nah you probably saved us from ourselves. We’d all have been bouncing off the walls on a sugar rush by now if you hadn’t,” I joke heading to the front door.

Marco swings his guitar back over his shoulders as I open the door for him. “Good to meet you Jean. I’ll see you yeah?” He smiles brightly and I can’t help but mirror it.

“Yeah see you at practise.” I stand to the side to let him out of the door.

“K, bye!”

“Bye!”

I watch him walk down the path and give him a quick wave before closing the door. I can hear Connie laughing as I walk back down the hall. “What a fucking noob!” he cries before breaking into hysterics again.

“Alright fuck faces quit hogging the game and give me a controller,” I say climbing over the back of the sofa and obnoxiously squashing myself between the two of them.

“Piss off it’s not our fault you two were nattering like a couple of old biddies at a bus stop,” snaps Eren holding his controller out to the side when I try to snatch it.

“Well someone’s gotta make the new guy feel welcome,” I retort, reaching over Eren and squashing him into the arm of the sofa, determined to get his controller.

“Make the new guy feel wel-? Who are you and what have you done with Jean Kirschtein?” Connie says glaring at me like I’ve sprouted an extra head.

I ignore him, too busy laughing at Eren’s muffled squawks as I sit on him hard, finally prying the controller from his grip.

#I'm finally sharing my baby from the start on here!#jeanmarco #jean x marco #jean x marco fanfic #long fic #aot fandom #aot fanfiction #Band AU #british au

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