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koipalm · 9 months

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liushennnn in my attendant sy au (read right to left)

notes on this au:

sy transmigrates into a new body when sqq fights the system trying to force him out of his body. sqq is livid and decides to take sy as his retainer/secretary/assistant, forcing him to do most of the accounting & administrative work on qing jing peak and work for sqq for free while also helping sqq avoid his tragic fate by telling him spoilers and secrets about the world that sy remembers. sy has no golden core and no cultivation, and cant wield a spiritual sword or fight. sy has no documents, no money, and no prospects. sqq basically provides everything for him & can also take it away. sy moves into the other room in the bamboo house and cleans and organizes as well, although his own room is a mess. sqq never makes it clear what sy's position on the peak is, so all of the disciples follow his orders in fear of disobeying sqq. sy is basically 2nd to sqq, although he doesnt see it that way; he sees himself as sqq's overworked servant. he resents sqq for his control over sy's life, but he's terrified of being kicked out.

sqq takes sy to the peak lord meetings as well, using sy to carry documents, serve tea, and to give him information about anything that might be useful to sqq if it comes up during the meeting. sy also often acts as a messenger for sqq between peaks. he doesnt get much interaction outside of senior disciples and the other peak lords.

since sy's hands are usually full with documents, accounting books, talisman paper, & anything else sqq wants him to carry, sy can't use his fan to hide his face as much. instead he uses his hair & his glasses. his skin is sallow & he often misses meals from running around doing sqq's errands, so he always seems tired. clothes he wears are simple & loose, either slip on or buttoned up. he dislikes loud & bright patterns bc he doesn't want to stand out, but sometimes has no choice bc sqq buys his clothes. sqq will often make him wear more extravagant patterns, even when it makes sy nervous about attracting attention.

since sy seemed to appear out of nowhere to the other sect members, sy is very worried about acting too suspicious and getting kicked out. he copies sqq as much as possible to acclimate to the world and seem unphased & elegant.

sy is very interested in the other peak lords since he interacts with them often, especially liu qingge. liu qingge often catches him staring, but sy tries not to interact with anyone more than he has to. liu qingge usually sees him hiding behind sqq as a buffer. if sy does speak, he does it low & quiet, & if behind his fan if possible.

sy looks like his old body & has long black hair, similarly styled to sqq by his insistence. sy dislikes this.

sqq calls sy "a-yuan" bc sy doesnt like it. sy doesnt like telling people his name though bc it makes ppl think theyre related, which he also doesnt like, so he doesnt stop sqq from indroducing sy as "a-yuan". this makes it very difficult for other ppl to know what to call sy in fear of being too familiar

sy does meet sqh earlier in this au, and he helps him as much as he can get away with behind sqq's back. since sy is less bound by the system than sqh is, sqh sometimes "sponsors" sy to do things he himself cant do.

sy calls sqq the equivalent of "sir".

#my art #shen yuan #liu qingge #liushen #svsss #sy attendant au #notes r basically just copied and pasted from my notes app lol..#i still cant for the life of me figure out sy's term of address for sqq #it's supposed to be familiar enough yet reverent enough that sy can get away with it #because he doesnt want to call him shizun or peak lord shen qingqiu #also i get that like theres this whole thing of making everyone be like oh sqq/sy you are so beautiful and so moe #but i think that gets boring. what if everything sucked for him all the time and he was rly dehydrated and lqg still liked him like that #also its right to left bc thats just the way the paneling worked out best

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somegrumpynerd · 26 days

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Killer's nightmare

He has many, but the one he has most often is of coming out of stage 3 and finding he's killed his new family too alone again. Or maybe worse, that he'll never quite be without someone from his past.

Luckily, it is just a nightmare, and he has a different Nightmare he can see to help him calm down.

#UTDR #UTMV #Killer Sans #Nightmare Sans #The others weren't technically in this so I'm not tagging them #Their time will come...#Truce au #Kinda? I just kinda shove all my interpretations into there so why not #On some level he knows the others will stop him #And that he literally cannot kill Nightmare (Nightmare has told him this since the day they met)#But the scary dream part of the brain doesn't care about that #It's okay Boss is there to help c:#He reads out loud until Killer's more or less back to himself #Or falls back asleep depending on how things go #And before you say anything it is Perfectly Normal Business to hold your henchmen in your tendrils to help them calm down after a bad dream #Nothing overly familiar or fatherly here!!! Just regular employer things TM #Pretty happy with how this came out! Maybe I will do something similar again... :3c

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snowangeldotmp3 · 6 months

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don't touch that dial!

or;

the wandavision au

(ronance edition!)

Robin wakes up with Nancy Wheeler in her house. Her house. Not her parents. Hers. Nancy’s in the kitchen, in a dress and hair curled and pinned back in a way that Robin has never seen, already making a cup of tea (Robin hates coffee, but she doesn’t remember telling Nancy that…) and greets her with a, “Hi, Robbie,” and a quick kiss on the cheek. Robin freezes. Her stomach flip-flops and she feels her face warm and she’s not totally sure how to react without shattering whatever this is. So she answers with a weak, “Hi.” Somewhere in the back of her mind, something screams THIS ISN’T REAL. Duh. She gathered that already. But the problem is it’s not her voice in her skull telling her this. She doesn’t know who it is, or why they’re telling her information that she already knows. The biggest worry in her mind is that this isn’t her Nancy. Her Nancy, the real Nancy, would be fighting and kicking and screaming because this is not the life that Nancy wanted. Robin would know too, in-between their world saving adventures, Nancy told her what her future looked like, and being a ‘50s housewife was not one of them. Robin hates the ‘50s. She hates the way her hair is done and she hates the dress she’s been shoved into and she hates the canned laughter (seriously, can anyone else hear that?) and— “Robin?” “Yes, dear?” Robin answers without thinking, going along with whatever this illusion wants. Nancy’s frowns a moment, breaking the tight smile she had on her face, and briefly Robin wonders whether she’s aware of their current predicament, too. If Nancy’s aware like she is, and just simply playing along—just better at hiding it. It’s too risky though to outright ask her, so for now she’s just going to have to read her newspaper (that doesn’t have any articles written by Nancy—seriously?) and find a way to tune out that damned laugh track.

#ronance #nancy wheeler #robin buckley #stranger things #not on ao3 sadly i this is really all i have written for this </3 but i still wanted to share #you might be familiar with the steddie version i did of this but i give you: the ronance version #(aka i got more involved in this version </3 rip)#wandavision au #except not a Real wandavision au. just. Heavy inspiration #ronancetober #VERY late uncanny post i am so sorry </3 #my writing #my moodboards #this has been sitting in my wips since feb i just haven't touched it LMAOOOO #anyway. back to hanleia ronance for tomorrow o7

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god-of-fandoms · 7 days

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Here it is - a scene from my familiar faces au! I hope you enjoy it!

Tw: cursing, eye trauma, mentions of arranged marriage

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Nya grunts in pain as she's thrown to the floor for what seems like the fiftieth time tonight. Scrap N' Tap is always rough - she has her growing collection of scars to account for that - but tonight seems different. Colder, somehow, and so much harsher than ever before. Her ribs are bruised to hell and the blood filling her mouth indicates that she's lost a tooth. The chuckling of the crew slowly falls silent, and her blood begins to run cold as a shadow looms in front of her.

Of fucking course. Why else would the pirates stop holding back unless he wanted something?

"Oh, my dear," and FSM the way Nadakhan calls her that in his sickly sweet tone just makes her want to throw up, "I can tell you're tiring of all of this. Why don't you just give in and stop all this pain?"

Nya spits out a mouthful of blood (and what she's almost certain is one of her incisors) at the djinn. "For the last time, dickbag," she hisses at his disapproving glare, "I'm not wishing for shit."

Nadakhan sighs as he floats closer, ignoring her attempts to flinch back. One thing she’s learned since being stuck on the misfortune? The captain has no fucking sense of personal space. It’s a trait that makes her shiver with disgust, especially when conversation circles back to the reason theyre stuck in this tango.

Speaking of which…

“My crew have been searching day and night, and your friends are still nowhere to be found.” Nadakhan’s golden eyes steadily burn a hole into her soul. She looks away, favoring the sight of her blood dripping onto the deck over that of the djinn’s face. “It seems that they are particularly good at hiding where I cannot see. But, my dear, you’ll come to find-” he grabs Nya’s throat in a bruising grip, ripping a strangled gasp from between her teeth as she's choking again, she can't breathe she can't breathe she can't breathe - "I always find what I'm looking for eventually. The other ninja will be in my grasp within the month, and once I have them? They will know pain like nothing they have known before, I swear to you."

He throws her to the floor once again. Her bruised ribs cry out in agony, but the feeling of air entering her lungs again drowns out the now familiar pain. A calloused hand finds its way to her hair, twisting a loose strand, and once again Nya has to fight back the urge to vomit.

"It doesn't have to be that way if you could just tell me where to find them. I can be merciful, and while it cannot be denied that I used to despise you for destroying Djinjago, it was not your intention to do so. Ever since you joined us-" ha, joined as if my only other choice wasn't to let you have him - "I have found it harder to argue against your usefulness. You would make a brilliant pirate, my dear."

Nya gives the djinn no response other than a scoff. She would rather die a million times than to see the day she'd willingly take orders from this son of a bitch. He sighs and turns his back on her, floating towards the center of the Scrap N' Tap arena. She wishes she had a knife to plunge into his spine.

"Your friends would not need to suffer, either, as long as they agreed to cooperate as well. I could let you all help me in my rule over Ninjago. It is... unfortunate that your brother and the nindroid were too late for this deal, but once I have my Delara back and receive infinite wishes I could be persuaded to bring them back-"

"HIS NAME IS JAY, YOU BASTARD!"

Nadakhan freezes. The rest of the crew falls eerily silent as well. Nya has been in control of water long enough to know that this is what it feels like in the calm before a raging storm.

"What did you just say to me?" The djinn asks, his words knife sharp. He turns to face her once again, and shit he's fucking enraged. It takes everything in Nya to glare back at him when her brain is telling her it's not safe run away DANGER RUN-

"His name is Jay, not Delara. I don't give a shit that he looks like your dead fucking fiancee - they could be twins for all I care - that doesn't change the fact that he's his own person. Delara is dead, Captain, and I'd rather gouge out my own eye than let you marry him because you think it will bring her back."

Nadakhan's nostrils flare as he flies towards her, arm outstretched as if to hit her. Nya can't help it - she flinches away, squeezing her eyes shut as she waits for the blow to come.

It doesn't.

After a few tense seconds, she looks up again. Nadakhan floats there, a peaceful look across his face as if he hadn't appeared ready to end her fucking life a moment before. Has he somehow managed to calm himself down

"Let me get this straight, my dear," and nope, he's even more angry than he was before, if the way his words drip with icy venom are a hint of his current emotional state, "Despite what you say about your precious Jay, I'd know my beloved anywhere. He may go on believing that he is not her, but once I have him in my grasp - and I will have him - he'll be whoever I say he is. And once I wed him and gain infinite wishes, I will be able to bring back the soul of my beloved Delara from the departed realm. With her spirit in his body, we will be reunited at last!"

Nya has to actively fight her nausea as she looks at the djinn's dreamy expression. Pure unadulterated horror courses through her. She knew that the djinn wanted to marry Jay under the delusion that he was a reincarnation of his bitchass fiancee, but for him to blatantly admit that he didn't give a single shit about Jay's thoughts and feelings on the matter - to admit to his plan of letting Delara permanently possess his body??? - makes her actively sick.

"You're a monster," she gasps, and it only makes him grin sadistically. "Jay will never marry you! He'll fight back every step of the way, and so will I!"

"My dear, Jay doesn't get a choice. No matter what, I will wed him and we will rule Ninjago together. And as for you..." His grin only grows wider as he looks away from her to admire the gleaming metal of his hook. He gestures to Dogshank and before she knows it the beast of a woman is restraining her, and despite her struggling she won't budge. "You're very against this wedding, aren't you? In fact, if my memory hasn't betrayed me, I recall you saying you'd 'rather gouge out your own eye than let me marry him'.

Nya freezes. The djinn is getting closer, too close, and the way he's gazing at his hook sends a bolt of terror through her. "I - I didn't actually mean that!" she stutters as her efforts in struggling against Dogshank double in intensity. She's completely unable to move, however, and her breathing gets harder and faster as Nadakhan raises the curved blade to just above her left eye. He wouldn't really, would he?

Nadakhan pauses, golden eyes roaming over her terrified face with amusement. "You didn't?" He asks, faux disappointment drowning his voice. He begins to pull away his hook, and the sigh of relief she lets out is embarrassingly audible.

"I guess I'll just have to do it myself, then!"

The hook pierces her eye.

The pain is instant and blinding. it's so much worse than every other injury she's faced as a ninja. It courses through her veins, hot and heavy, with no sign of stopping.

The hook digs deeper and though she can't hear anything she knows she lets out a scream as she feels it tear through her eye, ripping through nerves and tissue. The pain whites out her brain, she can't think of anything else, she can't breathe, she can't see-

It feels like minutes of agony as the blade twists and digs through her eye socket, hell bent on causing as much pain as possible. It's working. She simultaneously can't feel anything but her eye and feels every inch of her body as all of her nerves echo with pure blinding excruciation.

Then the hook freezes, and she's only given a brief reprieve from the pain before it yanks out of her socket, taking her eye with it.

The blinding pain overwhelms her again as nerves are ripped from the space her eyeball occupied moments before. Through her ringing ears, she can hear someone screaming. A minute later, she realizes that those are her cries.

She's dropped unceremoniously to the floor by Dogshank, where she lies in a growing pool of her own blood. The pain is still coursing though her, but it slowly ebbs... along with her consciousness.

Through rapidly closing eyes - eye, she only has one now - she can see Nadakhan as he floats towards her crumpled form. He lifts her chin gently, seemingly admiring his handiwork. Not has never been this tired. At this point, the pain is set aside as her body shuts down. Nadakhan tuts at her visible exhaustion and wipes away her tears (when did she start crying? She can't bring herself to care).

"Poor girl," he mumbles, his mournful tone a sharp contrast to the (rapidly blurring) smirk on his face. "This wouldn't have had to happen if you had just told me what I wanted to know."

Fuck that. She gathers the last of her strength as she glares at him and rasps, "'m not tellin' you shit".

Nadakhan scowls, but it quickly turns into a self satisfied smile. "Even in a time like this, you still have your fire. Good. And as for you 'not telling me shit', I believe you now. But mark my words, my dear..."

Nya is drifting off; Nadakhan's voice is getting more and more muffled as she sinks into her exhaustion. The last thing she hears are the djinn's parting words to her.

"Jay and the rest of your friends will be mine eventually. In fact, I doubt I'll have to look much longer. I guarantee you that they'll come to me themselves."

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SO DO WE LIKE IT

this took me a crazy short amount of time compared to most of my writing. I'll have to thank @tornoleander for that because I listened to the girl with one eye (Florence + the machine) like you mentioned when talking abt my au and DAMN it got me in the mindset for this like nothing else lemme tell you. If there were to be a ff!au playlist at some point that would definitely be on it (along with nothing by Emily autumn because that gives me serious jay and nadakhan vibes lol)

Im probably gonna edit this soon because I'm so tired and this is probably shit rn. Bear with me though the typos fam.

anyway I really hope you all like this! Your feedback is always important to me so tell me what you think.

as always, feel free to ask me anything about this fic! I'm always happy to answer your questions :D

Thanks for reading this! I hope it makes you more excited about this au.

Have a lovely day!

-Lee :)

#ninjago #lego ninjago #lee’s fics #ninjago skybound #familiar faces au #ff!au #ff!nadakhan #ff!nya #ITS DONE YAYYYYY #low-key this is my favorite thing I've ever wrote #at least for now #stay tuned for more!#also the for all the support #it means a lot to me #love you all <3

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yaoicoreren · 3 months

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who even are these guys

#edward nashton #jonathan crane #fanart #ink drawing #dano riddler #bruce wayne #the joker #scriddlebatjokes #on twt im king of that tag and i expect to be king of it here as well #au enseñanza media #thats the au tag if i make more stuff for it in the future #if i think about it too much i sort of cant believe how much i removed this from the source haha #just the joker is a mix up of like all movie jokers bc the one from 2022 is just a cameo so theres not much to grab onto #i had the flu again last week so i turned to the familiar for comfort and it manifested in giving these guys a uniform and a situationship #who knows i might show you whatever weird things i wrote on my notes app while awake at night because my sinuses were all clogged up #anyways im feeling better now #have a nice rest of your day<3

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quirkle2 · 3 months

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more zombie au :] (1.2k words)

The odor of rot has joined the damp growth of life from pots. Even if some things die off without human aid, there are always stronger elements that thrive in their absence.

The aisles are overgrown. Ritsu brushes past the vines as gently as he can, wooden floor groaning under his worn soles. There’s a gap of empty space in the middle of each aisle that he slots through, eyes roaming the shelves of largely useless things. Stronger stems snag onto his backpack and he tugs distractedly while perusing the labeled pots along the tables.

The barn is quaint, and Ritsu thinks he would love to stay. Moss eats at the boards under his feet and bugs swarm around him in the hot air incessantly, but it’s peaceful and there’s a constant sprinkle of sound to his ears that have grown so used to silence. Whoever owned this place beforehand put up a few wind chimes indoors—they must’ve always had the front entrance open for customers.

It’s a quiet little homemade garden center, or something similar, on the side of the highway. It’s an overgrown property with something dead in the backyard that Ritsu refuses to acknowledge or let Shigeo near. The shingles and boards in the roof have been replaced with polyethylene sheets—a barn-turned-greenhouse, uprooted from the hay and cattle it likely used to house and settled back into the Earth to be a paradise for plants.

There’s a large branch hanging through a hole poked into the plastic overhead. It sways with the wind and the chimes that follow, and Ritsu whistles with the leadless melody and gives it a direction while he studies old seed packets.

They didn’t stop here for any particular reason—a garden center doesn’t have much for apocalypse survivors, but Shigeo has always liked overgrown things. He’d always enjoyed taking care of their mother’s plants back home, and then Reigen’s at the office. His brother likes the humidity of greenhouses and the smell of soil and dirt and must.

He sees the top of Shigeo’s head over the aisles, across the barn. He walks past a shovel hanging on the wall and yelps out a grunt when it clangs to the floor behind him. Ritsu shakes his head and smiles, running his fingers along faded price tags.

The feeling of greenhouses has always had this… wet fullness, to Ritsu.

When he breathes in it’s like he can taste the life that breathes out and it feels like a conversation, a question and an answer, both of which he’s not sure how to articulate. The leaves wave to him and he waves back, the once-active sprinklers pepper his skin with dots, with compliments, with proclamations they are eager to share. The vines weave between fencing just to reach him, just to talk.

He understands why Shigeo likes it, and why he’d always asked to accompany their mother on trips to get new seeds. Ritsu hadn’t really understood, then, how pretty it could be, how full it could feel.

Shigeo had always been right about loving the little things. Ritsu wishes he’d seen that sooner.

His brother ambles down the aisle ahead of him and he listens to the quiet patter of his sloppy footwork, moving around a table of seed trays. His whistles carry across the barn, sort of aimless in their own right instead of leading the wind and the chimes somewhere worthwhile, but the sounds soak into the overhead plastic nicely, so he keeps going.

He pulls back a layering of vines and leaves to scan the contents of another shelf, and then he notices Shigeo stop in his peripherals. His dirty shoes stay planted in the corner of his vision, leaves burying the toes, and Ritsu looks away from the products.

He means to say something, to ask him what’s up even if saying things to Shigeo very rarely results in productivity, but he stops when he realizes his brother’s head is… tilted.

He’s looking at him with as much inquisitiveness as his dulled down awareness can muster, pale eyes flickering across Ritsu’s face like he’s working out some puzzle. He instinctively stops whistling, brain lagging behind on this new info of this new behavior, and the sound fizzles out into a little huff of air that leaves the greenhouse feeling oddly empty.

Shigeo studies him for a moment longer, blinking slowly, and then he straightens his head out as Ritsu stares back. His brother’s gaze lingers there on his mouth, like he’s still confused, like he still expects something to happen.

Ritsu blinks once, twice. The wind chimes call as wind pokes at his greasy spikes, as it prods at the ends of his jacket and fills the silence with a different flavor of itself. The interest in the zombie’s eyes fades a little, gaze straying to the vines around them.

Very tentatively, Ritsu wets his lips and blows. The whistle grabs his brother’s attention immediately, and he’s suddenly tilting his head like a curious dog.

He can’t help the laugh that spills out and makes the whistle a mess of exhales. His shoulders shake a little and he hurries to keep the tune steady and consistent; a few seconds pass and Shigeo tilts his head the other way, exhausted eyes big and more alert than they’ve been in days.

Ritsu experiments, and ventures around with the sound—goes lower and higher and watches his brother twist his head back and forth like he’s trying to understand calculus. There’s something very innocent about it, about the look in his eyes that reminds him of when they were kids and their father would show them magic tricks.

It’s muted by the ever-present fog there in his pupils, but Ritsu thinks he sees a spark of that life in them, of that curiosity born from a mind that knows little. He gives him a simple sensation, a simple experience, and his brother is eating it all up like he’s four again, like he’s new and everything is colorful and unknown and big.

Ritsu watches Shigeo tilt his head back and forth, watches the rusty gears behind his window panes move. He changes tactics, because some sad part of him tells him to, and whistles Shigeo’s favorite song instead.

He remembers the name, but he doesn’t need the name because when he thinks of the tune he thinks of his brother, and that’s all that matters. It’s happy, because Shigeo likes happy music. It’s chipper and yet it meanders, like it’s willingly getting lost, like it’s wandering where it wants to and it’ll eventually find its roots again. It’s happy the whole time. The whole adventure.

Shigeo stops tilting his head, and the gears behind his eyes churn a little bit faster. His gaze clings to Ritsu’s and his brother makes actual eye contact, sinks his own being into Ritsu’s head when he’s least prepared for it. The recognition in his gaze has his soul souring.

He keeps whistling. He doesn’t want to stop, because Shigeo feels like Shigeo right now, and he doesn’t want that to stop.

His brother stares. Ritsu’s grief tints the music.

#qkwrites #zombie au #mp100 ritsu #ritsu kageyama #shigeo kageyama #mp100 shigeo #mp100 mob #every time i think about this au too long i am filled with despair #last line of this . damn i was cookin #ritsu's grief tints Everything he does in this world #he's fucking haunted by it and it's awful bc it's not like he can just.not think abt it #bc the source of his grief is Shigeo. and shigeo still breathes and walks and reacts to things ritsu does like he's alive #and he Is alive. he's very much alive #but there is a lot missing. and ritsu Feels the absence every fucking second #it's like walking into a house that used to have another person in it. and all the familiar sounds ur used to will never be made again #it's very empty and stagnant and the things that Do stay are Different #and it changes a lot. one minute ritsu will be having an okay day—best mood u could possibly have in an apocalypse anyway #and then he looks over and shigeo is doing smth that he used to do Before but it's wrong and a little bit to the left #and without the life in it #pure muscle memory on shigeo's part #and suddenly ritsu's mood drops So fast and he's so Exhausted from these mood swings he keeps having #u know that thing that goes like .uhhhh grief doesn't fade life just gets bigger around it. or smth #yeah ritsu's life isn't rly getting bigger. he is not moving away from the grief bc the source of it keeps staring him in the face

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georgieluz · 4 months

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– did you love me when he was just my friend?

papa i don't need a preacher / i ain't some kind of creature / from some old double feature / i just wanna make you proud / of the kind of love i've found / but you say it ain't allowed / say it's a sin / but it's how i've always been / did you love me when he was just my friend? / daddy, do you think i've turned out right?

george luz, son of a small town preacher, grew up hearing that all love is heaven sent, that it's holy and true in all its forms. it was told to him every night before he closed his eyes and by the time he reaches adulthood, it's a core part of his nature. love is good. welcomed and encouraged. he sees it in the way his father glances at his mother, sat next to him in the second pew, before he begins every sermon, and he sees it in the quiet support she always gives back. he feels it every day when his dog licks at the palm of his hand whilst he sits restlessly on the front porch, wondering if there's something more out there than this one small town.

love is good. welcomed. encouraged. he meets the new hire at foxtail creek, a small ranch about a mile outside the town border, in the summer. the newcomer mostly keeps to himself, a rancher looking for temporary work. george can't help but be intrigued by the first outsider he's met in months and takes it upon himself to befriend the man. he'd always been good at making friends, most just pass through, or eventually move away, but george had always been content with the fact that his self-proclaimed wit and charm managed to win them over for however long they gave him. slowly, as he and the rancher become more and more intwined, george begins to realise that, in his neck of the woods, not all love is sent from above, at least not in the eyes of his friends and family.

– playlist for fic: heaven sent

– cowboy collab: #easy company cowboys

#george luz #band of brothers #bobcollab #cowboy collab #easy ranch #easy company cowboys #george luz son of a preacher man au #julian made a thing #julian writes #this song lives in my fucking chest ok i had to write something for it and george my guy you are the chosen one #“daddy you're the one that claimed that he loved me through the flame now why can't you do the same?”#<<< THIS LINE GOT ME SO FUCKED UP ISTG #and yes the rancher is someone familiar to us but i shall keep their identity hush hush for now #i'm too sleepy rn to write a better summary #so this is all over the place but it's gonna be a fun one (and ofc by fun i mean like a knife to the chest)

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stobinesque · 11 months

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let me be the void you fill, pt. 1

@steddie-week day 4: familiar | ~2k words | Teen and up title from "I / Me / Myself" by Will Wood

On his way up the path to the small hut he’d gotten Dustin to draw a crude map to, Steve was stopped in his tracks by a lanky black cat that appeared out of nowhere—and then promptly proceeded to wind her way between his legs.

"Well hello there," he said, bending down to extend his hand towards her nose.

The cat gave his fingers one short, decisive sniff, before bumping her head against them, and resuming her circuitous turn betwixt his ankles.

Steve laughed. "So you mean to hold me hostage, then, is that it?"

The cat paused to look up at him, features set into what Steve guessed would be a look of utter disdain on a human.

"Okay, okay, bad joke, huh?" The cat slipped out from under his feet just long enough for Steve to crouch all the way down and present his palm to her again. The cat purred this time, and nudged her head up against his palm more firmly, staying still long enough to allow him to pet the top of her head, and scratch behind her ears. "I'm Steve," he offered. "And what's your name, pretty girl?"

"Miriam? Miriam! Where did you run off—oh."

Steve startled at the sudden sound, and glanced up from where the cat was now enthusiastically petting herself against him, to find a witch of about his own height rushing out the hut’s front door. They sported a head full of riotous brown curls, atop which sat a stout, felted witch's hat. In spite of the unseasonable heat, the theurgist was dressed in heavy, ruffled black skirts, and colorfully patched stockings. That had to be why their cheeks were flushed such a pretty shade of pink, right?

Steve pulled himself back up to a standing position, shaking his head as though to clear it of cobwebs. He snapped his mouth shut when he realized it had dropped open of its own accord, and glanced back down at the cat, now rubbing herself up against one leg. "So your name is Miriam?" he asked her.

The cat let out a small merp in reply, as her owner—companion?—continued to stand and stare at Steve from a few steps up the path.

🐈‍⬛🪄🔮✨🌕🧹🧙

Eddie's day had begun with a series of inauspicious events.

To start with, she had forgotten to leave fir curtains parted in just the right way before bed the night before. So instead of gradually rising with the sun as it crept in on hazy bands of light, fee'd been slapped in the face by the full force of its rays at entirely too early an hour.

And then, when she'd gone out to fetch the laundry, it was to find every single article of clothing still damp—or worse—in spite of the unusually dry heat they’d been having. That left fir with only a pair of (thankfully) threadbare, but (unfortunately) black woolen stockings, a black linen smock, and a set ruffled skirts—of which the relative breeze allowed by its shortened length at the front, was offset by the sheer quantity of its layers—to wear for the day. (The stockings, he supposed, could have been forgotten. But Eddie found themself wandering through thistle paths far too often, and unexpectedly, to not wear something on her legs every day.)

To make matters worse, the moment Miriam’d heard Eddie knocking about, she'd gone ahead and toppled over one of the cauldrons, in a way that signified today was to be a potion-making day.

Great, so I'm going to be a puddle by midday.

Most days, Eddie could choose the direction of fir practice. But sometimes, for one reason or another—a particular rhyme of the chimes hanging in zir window, the moon hanging low and large and bloody in the night sky, a particular scent in the air—the animus of the world nudged her in a particular direction.

Those days, invariably, sucked.

But still, Eddie bustled around the small cottage—grabbing roots, and herbs, and carefully preserved insect matter—preparing for the day's task. The draught that Eddie felt fumself pushed to brew today was technically complicated, time consuming, and required the assistance of another set of hands.

Which would be fine. If his familiar hadn't scampered off moments after knocking over the cauldron that morning.

Eddie searched high and low, and into every nook and cranny of the cramped hut—which did not want for hiding places, despite its small footprint—for his erstwhile familiar. Eventually, he had to admit defeat, and determined that she must have gone for a laze about the garden beds—even though she knew full well that they were off limits.

"Miriam?" Eddie called out as he pushed his way outside. Usually the one call was enough to have her trotting back home immediately, shame-faced and caught out. But in keeping with the day’s pattern, nothing was to be so easy. "Miriam!" Eddie called again, growing a touch frustrated. "Where did you run off t—oh."

Eddie came to an abrupt halt just a few steps up the path from their hut, shocked still by the sight of Miriam letting someone other than themself touch her. And it wasn't just any someone. It was perhaps the most gorgeous someone Eddie had ever laid eyes on: soft brown hair that glinted gold in the sunlight, pretty pink lips rounded into a perfectly round 'O' that just begged to have something shoved between them, and…and Eddie really needed to reign in the excesses of hir thoughts.

The honey-haired visitor straightened to a standing position and looked down at Miriam with a sweet smile on their face. "So your name is Miriam?" he asked, receiving a soft chirp of confirmation from Miriam in reply. It brought Eddie up short—most strangers didn’t address Miriam directly. Who was this person? Eddie shook his head, honing in on the most mysterious part of the tableau in front of him.

"She's letting you pet her," he marveled. "I think the last person who tried nearly got his arm chewed off for the trouble." Eddie tilted her head and looked the stranger up and down in a way that he knew would be taken for the blatant assessment it was. "She must like you." And Eddie knew that if Miriam trusted someone, then if nothing else, he should trust her—but, well: see above, re: day of inauspicious beginnings. "So what's your name, stranger?" He added just a touch of suspicion to his tone.

"Steve," came the swift reply, immediately followed with an outstretched hand, in spite of the several paces of distance still separating the two of them. "Of the town of Haring," Steve continued. As he spoke, Miriam came slinking back towards Eddie, and settled into a seated position between his feet, gaze fixed intensely at Steve.

"Okay, Steve of Haring." Eddie propped a hand on one hip, still trying to figure out what to make of this visitor. Everything about his day up ‘til now suggested there was something more going on here than met the eye. Even Miriam seemed to think so, if the way she was staring fixedly at Steve’s chest was anything to go by. But Miriam was also clearly fond of this stranger, after only moments of interaction. So there was probably nothing to fear from Steve themself, and, oh, he really needed to confirm how he should be constructing his internal narration regarding this creature— "So how else do you like to be referred to, Steve?"

"Huh?" Steve’s brow furrowed in confusion.

"Well, I can't very well keep going around calling you 'the stranger' in my head now, can I?"

Steve shrugged. "You could just think of me as ‘Steve,’" Steve said with an adorable little head tilt.

"This is true, but it does get repetitive after a while. Which, of course, is alright, if that’s what you prefer. But I usually find that a pronoun or two often helps things along."

"Oh!" Steve snapped their fingers and pointed at Eddie with excitement at their sudden understanding. "You can use ‘he’ and ‘him’ and stuff to think and talk about me. That's what everyone else does."

"And…is that what you want everyone else to do?"

Steve shrugged. "I don't really care, I suppose. It's just…easier this way."

Eddie frowned. "And you don't think that's boring? Why limit yourself to the confines of expectation if it doesn't make you happy?"

Steve blew a gust of air between his lips and ran a hand through his hair. "I guess you could say that's part of why I'm here, really."

Eddie raised a brow. "Oh?"

Steve waved a hand as though to bat the matter away as unimportant. "Yeah, but we're getting ahead of ourselves." Steve crossed his arms over his chest and regarded Eddie with an interest all his own. "How should I be thinking about you?"

Eddie flipped a lock of hair over one shoulder, and tossed zir sauciest smile Steve's way. "You can think of me any way you like, handsome."

The bright pink flush that swept across Steve's face—and the awkward stammering that followed—were truly the highlight of Eddie's day thus far. (Unfortunately, that was an embarrassingly low bar to clear—but, on the other hand, Steve's blush-and-stammer combo had just set it at a lifetime high. Ah, Life and Her various vagaries.)

"That's not what I meant "

"Oh I know, stranger. But that is the answer to what you did mean, anyhow, so it didn't seem prudent to pass up such a delicious opportunity to be a shameless flirt."

Steve wrinkled his nose. "Charming."

"Why yes, that is one of the things you could call me," Eddie shot back with an impish grin.

Steve laughed. "You're a bit of an asshole, aren't you?"

"I've been called worse," fee replied with a small shrug. "...and a lot better," she added with an exaggerated wink.

"Okay, but, really, how should I—? What should I—?"

Eddie waved a dismissive hand of their own. "Think of—and refer to—me however you like: he, them, hers, zir," Eddie shrugged. "It's all the same to me. Though I must confess I've grown partial to ‘fee, fi, fo, fum’."

The bright, bursting bubble of a giggle this provoked could have fueled Eddie's strongest cheering charm. "You can't be serious!"

"Deadly so, I'm afraid. Although in practice it’s more like ‘fee, fum, fir, fos’."

"Hmmm, okay. I like it." Steve reached up to tuck his hair back behind both ears at once. "What about your name?"

"What of it, pretty boy?" Eddie asked, just to see the rosy blush spread across the apples of Steve's cheeks again.

"Could I have it?"

"Could you have it? What, to keep? Are you a faerie, Steve? If you're a faerie you have to tell me, or else it's entrapment."

"No, I'm not a faerie. But I'm also pretty sure that's not how any of that works."

"That sounds exactly like something a faerie would say," Eddie shot back, jabbing an accusatory finger Steve’s way.

Steve shook his head, but there was a delighted grin on his face and a soft chuckle rising from his throat. "I just want to stop having to cycle through various iterations of 'hot witch,' in my own thoughts," he admitted.

"Oooh, well now I'm curious—how dirty and creative did you get there?"

Steve's smile shifted into something more like a smirk. "Mmm…'beddable horror specks'?"

Eddie threw his head back in a wild laugh that sent fir hat flying. "I think you mean haruspex—which isn't accurate, anyway; I prefer not to go around reading rabbit entrails—but that was good!"

"And?" Steve asked with a wheedling-but-cheery, sort of tone. "Could I get a name in reward? Something to call you by, in the heat of the moment?"

"Well, I must confess that now I'm even more curious about what you’d come up with if left to your own devices—but I suppose if you must have something to scream into the rafters while I ravish you: Eddie, son and/or daughter and/or corrupted offspring of the Moon, at your service." Hat no longer on her head to tip in Steve direction, Eddie instead swept down into a low bow, one arm extended out toward Steve in invitation.

stay tuned for part two tomorrow!

#stranger things #stranger things fanfiction #steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #genderqueer eddie munson #steddieweek2023 #steddie week #steddie witch familiar au #huzzah! an entry posted reasonably well before midnight!#believe it or not this was not MEANT to become a fic about gender and pronouns and names #and yet here we are #I had the thought “fee/fi/fo/fum would make good pronouns”#immediately followed by the thought “Eddie would do that”#and I was RIGHT #part two is underway and is uhhhhh not this lighthearted thus far #(it will at worst have an open-but-hopeful ending though)#also the world building here is all vibes and no rules #read writes

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turtleblogatlast · 1 year

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Being functionally immortal and with the ability to jump dimensions, would Leo ever run into The Doctor Fugitoid? (Not sure if you actually know of Fugitoid, he's from the 2012 tmnt, voiced by David Tennant, and is a time traveling cyborg)

I’m still superrrr early on and slowlyyyy making my way through the 2012 series (gotta really sit down and binge a bunch of episodes in one go one of these days - I like it so far!!) but I’ve heard of this guy!

To answer your question: it’s possible! Path B is pretty open ended, but technically speaking it’s feasible that Leo could come across literally Anyone. So it’s entirely possible that he comes across Fugitoid along the way!

#prison!leo au #p!l au ask #path b #2012 is p different from both rise and 2003 which are the ones I’m more familiar with but I from what little I’ve seen I think I’ll enjoy it #I love all things tmnt so!#I remember seeing parts of some eps from time to time on tv when I was a kid

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tswwwit · 11 months

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been rewatching gravity falls and this got me thinking-

would dipper allow bill to possess his body at least once? :0

Only if it were necessary for something! Dipper might trust Bill enough to use it for a limited amount of time if he has to, but no good could come from letting him joyride.

#answers #After all they've been married for a while #Dipper's stance on demonic possession by Bill has moved from #Absolutely no fucking way; he'd probably be trapped as a drifting spirit as his body was mutilated then killed #To: Only if he really has to because lord knows Bill's going to wring amusement out of it. Please don't make it a weird sex thing Bill #You know Bill at least jokes repeatedly about making it a weird sex thing #I'm not sure how possession would functionin Familiar AU but I'm sure there's some shenanigans with the bond and all that would make it wor #It's certainly not convenient to arrange and would require Dipper cooperating #So doubtful that it happens without them having to do it for some reason or another #Perhaps they even have to *Swap* to make it work in which case Bill *definitely* tries for the weird sex thing

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no-1-rosalind-lang-apologist · 2 months

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why am i so tempted to actually try to write the flf vampire au now

#i have zero experience writing fanfic #but oh well #also this will not be solely based on twilight if it happens #and twilight obviously has a lot of issues #it's just a pretty defining book of its genre and the one i'm the most familiar with #any twilight references are going to just be parody i think #however i will likely be reading all of them #especially the genderbent one #why am i doing this to myself oh god #if anyone has any other early 2000s (or early 2000s in spirit) vampire romance that would be a good reference for this please let me know #the only other thing i can think of right now is crave by tracy wolff #also this might not actually end up happening #flf vampire au #i wonder if chloe gong has seen any of the vampire posts #terrifying idea. anyway.

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bi-functional · 11 months

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Bottom right sequence reads “and when I move out—,” —> “yes. I’m sorry. I l-… love you too. Thank you.”

Now with more art !

So all this reincarnation talk for @tswwwit ‘s masterpiece has me throwing My little familiar au idea in the rings but its no where near as sweet or interesting as @kitty-serenade ‘s but if you like angst, hear me out!

Imagine a Dipper reborn with The Mark and what are his parents supposed to do? They love him sooo much they can’t possibly let him enter the Real World and be taken away by some Vile Demon!

So… they just keep him inside. They shelter him. They manipulate him and put him down all to keep him cooped up and ‘Safe’.

They care about his well being enough but… well who wouldn’t want to be known as the parents who Won against Bill Cipher? Like imagine the worst rich people ever who can’t Possibly be abusive of neglectful cause they give their baby anything he wants! They’re such good parents! Bill won’t stand a chance!

Dipper’s so broken down and rubbed raw by the constant emotional abuse that he has No concept of what living a life for himself might look like. In his eyes, he’s been trapped living the life he’s expected to lead to make his parents happy but ultimately, apparently, he’s also promised to a demon a few years down the line.

Like think of the possibilities here. Dipper who doesn’t have any Real knowledge about what Bill is and why he’s coming, he only has the info his parents have given him about how Bill will control him and take him away to do his bidding and possibly even Torture him!

Think about a Dipper who’s so dissociated and detached from his life as he realizes that he’s simply not meant to live a life for himself and that’s something he’s Never going to get.

Then you throw in Bill, who’s going to show up and rescue his sapling from this fucked up weird emotional monstrosity of a place that just Reeks of despair only to find? Unlike all the other pinetree’s he’s come for these past centuries this one… is… compliant? And imagine Bill, being reminded of a Dipper just as unresponsive and depressed from the very first time they met only now he has No Idea what has caused such a huge break in character.

No matter how much pushing and prodding Bill gives, Dipper just doesn’t budge, waiting for the inevitable. And Bill is such a narcissist that he doesn’t realize that his speech pattern Also affects Dipper’s reactions. ‘Hey Sapling, I wanna explore the woods let’s go.’ ‘Pinetree I’m tellin’ ya, it’s not worth it let’s not even bother.’ He’s doing and suggesting things he knows Dipper would like and help cheer him up but… unwittingly taking any choice or input from Dipper away. Think of it as a learned don’t speak unless spoken to kinda trauma. Bill’s not doing anything wrong! He’s just… not getting any results.

It would be such a fun concept to play with in a really heartbreaking way. Imagine a Bill who’s finally relinquished his hate for the word love, who might on occasions let it slip just for a shock factor, uk for funsies, only to come across a Dipper who recoils at the very thought because he’s simply never seen it, and thinks something like that doesn’t get to people like him.

Imagine Bill, suave and rich with the universe at his fingertips offering Dipper love and glory and curiosity, only to find out that Dipper’s family had also showered him in ‘love’ and ‘riches’.

Like… imagine thinking Bill would just say well fuck it I guess I’ll wait for the memories to kick in and then live out the rest of this lifetime when it comes, cause he wouldn’t. Imagine a Bill so frustrated and angry tearing apart his realm for /anything/ that might give him a real direction to step forward cause all the usual things he has at his disposal aren’t gonna cut it this time.

Bill who begrudgingly starts asking the questions. Real Genuine Questions that usually tumble from his saplings mouth that he can give witty clapbacks to serve as banter. Dipper being the one to give the sarcastic and clipped remarks cause he’s so guarded against this unknown even though… maybe things aren’t that bad. He starts to unwind ever so slowly as Bill learns how to properly interact with him in a way that’s beneficial to both of them.

Just… Bill coming across a Dipper that’s been through the ringer in way’s Bill never anticipated. Even if he’s found Dipper alone or at wits end, he’s always had a fire and determination. He’s always had his spirit in tact. Bill being angry and upset about the reincarnation deal for the first time /ever/ cause he hates seeing that people hurt the one thing he loves in the entire multiverse and unraveled Dipper like a cheap sweater. Like the emotions and story you could weave for this that’s fundamentally about Love and Learning and never hesitating to do whatever’s possible to make things Work.

Like grgrgrg just a Bill who’s being faced with a Dipper who’s been abused but not in any way Bill’s encountered. Dipper who’s suffered abuse of the MIND. Which is Bill’s entire domain! The one thing in the universe that’s his fundamentally! And he has absolutely no power here. Bill who wants to reach in and fix and help for the First Time and struggling not only with his inability to do anything, but with the urge to help and fix in the first place. Bill who has to take care of Dipper the Human way and just grits through it cause dammit it’s worth it. Just man come on.

#bruh no way tumblr glitched on me and i lost half of this and all my tags #and had to rewrite it #anyway #this got really long guys my bad #i just think its neat and ik the familiar au isnt angsty like this #but hurt comfort is my favourite thing #and ive been thinking about this for a while #just like… bill being unconditionally in love and having that proven over and over again no matter what #dipper having to let go of hope in order to survive even if as just a husk of who he was and who he could become #dipper learning to wakeup again and live for himself #like just learning and growing and loving #relinquishing hoplesness #idk man it #it just sucks being trapped #maybe i just wanted to see a story like mine with a happy ending #bi.f.art #bill cipher #gravity falls #human bill cipher #billdip #dipper pines #gravity falls au #tswwwit’s familiar au #tswwwit’s reincarnation au #also i apologize for it being very ooc #i have a headache

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