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genshinluvr · 2 years

Text

Crave 2

Pairings: Various Genshin Men x Isekai'd!Reader, Childe x Isekai'd!Reader, Foul Legacy x Isekai'd!Reader

Summary: You end up having an interesting dream about Childe's Foul Legacy form, causing you to feel guilty about it. You end up ignoring him for two days, only for Childe to confront you at the bathhouse as to why you were ignoring him. One thing led to another, you suddenly find Childe buried deep inside of you.

Note: This part of Crave focuses on Childe for my Childe/Tartaglia simps on AO3! There is triggering content in the smut, DO NOT READ THE FOUL LEGACY PORTION (literally the first 2k words of this story) IF YOU GET TRIGGERED BY THEMES OF RAPE/NON CONSENSUAL SEX. I won't be tagging people in this one because I don't want anyone to feel uncomfortable. The Foul Legacy portion will be bolded and in red text, so you will know where to skip if you want to skip the triggering scene of Crave 2. The smut doesn't immediately start, but there are events that lead up to the smut. Minors, DO NOT INTERACT! I tried to keep the smut as gender-neutral as possible, but this smut does lean more towards AFAB!reader/female-bodied reader. For those who are new or returning readers, I post on AO3 as well, so if you have an AO3 and see a work similar to this, it’s me (Aaliah_exo on AO3). I don’t post anywhere else but on Tumblr (Genshinluvr) and on AO3 (Aaliah_exo).

Warnings: Non-Con with Foul Legacy, Soft dom!Childe, breeding kink, hair pulling, Foul Legacy has a monstrous cock, spanking, cervix fucking, monster porn (????), creampie, orgasm denial, size kink

Word Count: 9.1k

Crave "Chapters": [1], [2], [3], [4], [5], [6], [7]

You were lying on the ground, chest heaving as you tried to catch your breath. You stared up at the ceiling, too exhausted to move or sit up. You hear loud footsteps approaching where you lay. You blinked slowly when the light was completely blocked off by the person— or thing— that peers down at you— Childe’s Foul Legacy form. With the deep noise rumbling from Foul Legacy’s chest, you couldn’t tell whether he was purring, growling, or laughing at you. You swallowed the lump in your throat, still trying to catch your breath.

“Okay, you win. What did you want to be your prize?” You whisper.

Earlier today, Childe had proposed that he wanted to teach you how to fight. Since you did not belong in Teyvat, Childe wanted to teach you how to fight in case there are scenarios where you have no other choice but to defend yourself. You agreed to Childe’s offer, and after getting the green light from the other men (who seemed reluctant to let a bloodthirsty Harbinger train you how to fight), Childe takes you to the Golden House to help train you.

At first, you thought it was strange for Childe to take you to the Golden House to teach you hand-to-hand combat since it has more room compared to the abode; you didn’t see many issues with it. After all, before you were brought into Teyvat, you’ve fought Childe numerous times in the Golden House for weekly boss drops. You’ve fought him before and have beat him multiple times! It should be a piece of cake, right?

Oh, how you were wrong.

“I don’t understand why you need to transform into Foul Legacy when sparring with me. I’m not Aether, nor am I a fighter.” You chuckled. Childe knelt down in front of you and reached his hands out to caress your face with his large hands.

“You put up quite a fight back there for someone that’s not from this universe,” Childe states. Childe’s voice was even deeper as Foul Legacy than himself. The sound of Foul Legacy’s deep voice sends heat straight to your core, causing you to press your thighs together tightly. You couldn’t tell if the heat that was rushing to your face was from the spar that both you and Childe had with one another earlier or if it was from embarrassment. Or arousal.

“Well, I didn’t want to die.” You joked, staring up at Childe as he continued to hover above you. “Plus, I know how you are whenever you fight. You love the adrenaline running through your veins, and you feel the thrill when adrenaline is pumping through your veins from a good fight.” You reply.

“Interesting…” Childe hums, continuing to caress your face in his hands. You couldn’t tell what was Childe’s facial expression due to the mask that was covering his face, but you knew that he was examining you closely. “Strip,” Childe states, catching you off guard.

“E-Excuse me?” You squeaked, looking up at him with wide eyes.

“Do I have to repeat myself?” He asks; behind his mask, Childe was raising his eyebrows at you with a stern look on his face.

“Yes, because why would I strip under your command?” You challenged Childe, sitting up.

A deep rumble emits from the Foul Legacy’s chest; he is laughing at your question. He grabs onto your ankles before yanking you in his direction. You yelped when your back collided with the floor, sliding to where Childe was at.

“I have won this round of sparring with you. I believe that it’s right for me to claim my prize.” Foul Legacy’s deep voice made heat rush to your cheeks. Why did you find Foul Legacy so attractive compared to Childe himself? Maybe it’s because he’s so tall that he towers over the people around him, and his voice— oh, archons, his deep voice. You have no shame but to admit that you do find Foul Legacy pretty attractive. Maybe you’re into monsters and monster porn; perhaps you’re not into it! Either way, the view in front of you caused you to feel your underwear starting to become soaked at the sight of Foul Legacy towering over you. He looked so…. Regal and dominate. Your mouth was almost salivating at the thought of Childe fucking you in his Foul Legacy transformation. Oh, wait, perhaps that’s what he’s going to do after all.

“A-And what would that prize be?” You squeaked, feeling the heat between your legs pool in your underwear, and your groin throbs with need.

“Oh, don’t play coy, [Y/N].” He chuckles, his hands trailing up your legs before his large— very large hands gripped onto the plush of your thighs, lightly squeezing them. You feel the metal talons of his gloves graze your sensitive crotch, sending shivers down your spine. “You know what I want to be my prize, don’t pretend like you don’t know.” He purrs, leaning close to your face.

“But I don’t!” You squeaked, squeezing your eyes shut when you felt his hands creep closer and closer to where your throbbing core is at. Embarrassingly enough, you bet that Childe can feel the heat pooling in your underwear.

“Oh, looks like I’ll have to do it myself then.” Childe sighs in fake disappointment. Before you could react to what he had said, Childe grabs onto your pants and underwear, tearing them entirely off of you. You yelped at the sound of your pants and underwear ripping to shreds; Childe threw it over his shoulders carelessly before grabbing both of your thighs, spreading them apart.

“Childeeeeee!” You whined, your face becoming flustered when you felt the cool air blowing down on your soaked entrance.

“Oh, what’s this? You’re so wet for me.” Chile coos. His chest rumbles with laughter as his long fingers trail up to your heat. You squeaked when you felt the cold metal talons poking and prodding your entrance. You looked away from Childe, too humiliated to watch what he was doing. “Don’t be shy now. Look at me.” He demands, grabbing your face with his left hand and forcing you to look at him.

The way you stared up at him with doe-like eyes, your face was bright red from embarrassment, your legs trembling in his hands. Just the slightest sight of you beneath him stirred something deep in Childe’s chest. Childe feels his dick harden in his pants, forming a tent. Childe has this overwhelming urge to fuck you until your lower belly is swollen with his seed, your entrance dripping with a mix of your and his cum. He wants to feel your tight walls around his cock, sucking him in. He wants to breed you until you’re begging for his cum to be deep inside you.

“You are my prize, aren’t you?” Childe asks, stroking your face with his massive hands. You trembled under his gaze, feeling his index finger on his right hand massaging your sopping hole. “Well? Are you?” Childe demands, pressing his index finger up against your aching groin. Pleasure shoots up your body, making you arch your back with a strained yelp.

“Yes! Yes, I’m your prize. I’m all yours, Childe.” You whimpered.

Childe purrs at the sound of your whimpers, his cock swelling up in his pants as he takes his hands away from you. You let out a panicked exhale, craving for his touch again. You leaned on your elbows, looking up at the Foul Legacy’s monstrous form. You watched Childe start to take his pants off, your eyes widening at the sight in front of you. Childe pulls out his long, monstrous cock from his pants. The bulbous tip of his member was bright red, a bead of precum coming out from the slit of his dick. Childe’s cock was very long, veiny, and thick— you couldn’t tell if his dick was already that big or if the size of his dick was enlarged to fit the size of Foul Legacy. Other than that, there was no way that thing would fit inside of you. You’re confident that if Childe were to insert that long, thick, veiny cock of his inside of you, it would tear you to shreds. While the thought of you dying with Foul Legacy’s fat cock inside of you, you did not like the sound of it because it sounded painful.

“Like what you see?” Childe laughs, grabbing onto his girthy member before stroking it with his hands.

“I don’t think that’s going to fit inside of me.” You said weakly, trembling at the sight of the enormous cock in front of your face.

“Don’t worry your pretty little head about it, snookums. It’ll fit just fine.” Childe coos as he continues to pump his cock with his fist, soft groans were escaping his mouth. You feel yourself becoming wetter at the sound of his moans and groans, the sight of him stroking and squeezing his member. “If it doesn’t, I’ll make it fit inside of you.” Childe grunts, leaning over you with his left arm while continuing to fondle his hardened cock. Childe spreads your legs further apart with his thighs, lightly tapping his length onto your hot entrance. The warmth of Childe’s cock tapping onto your groin made you jolt. Was this going to happen? Have you died and gone to heaven?

“Wait!” You said, tapping on his shoulders. “A-Are you sure you want to do this?” You squeaked, looking up at Childe nervously.

“Oh, I know that I want this. I’ve been wanting to do this ever since I first laid my eyes on you, snookums.” Childe purrs, his face leaning down, nuzzling his face (mask?) into the crook of your neck. As you opened your mouth to say something, you felt your breath get caught in your throat when Childe began to insert the mushroom tip of his cock into your entrance. You grabbed onto Childe’s biceps, whimpering in pain as Childe struggled to slide into your heat.

“Archons, you’re so tight.” Childe grunts, clenching his jaws as he bucks his hips against yours.

“You’re too big! It’s not going to fit!” You shrieked, tensing up at each thrust.

“Stop clenching! Relax!” Childe growls, planting both of his arms down beside your head, continuing to nudge his cock deeper inside of your hole. Tears pool around your eyes before cascading down your cheeks, your face pinched up, teeth grinding down on each other. You tighten your grip on Childe’s biceps, nails digging into his armored arms.

“You’re too big, Childe! It hurts.” You whined, writhing under Childe’s body as he continued to rut his hips against yours. Childe groans, thrusting his dick into you. You felt like you were being split open. You can feel yourself stretching out to accommodate Childe’s wide cock.

“Fuck, you’re so tight.” Childe breathes, his chest rising and falling with each deep breath he takes. “Relax a bit for me, baby. I’m not close to being inside of you completely.” Childe grunts, lightly tapping on your thighs. You didn’t listen to Childe, too deep into your thoughts, whimpering from the feeling of being stretched out by the Foul Legacy’s ginormous cock.

“I-I’m trying, but I c-can’t!” You wailed, your thighs tensing around Childe’s waist, causing Childe to groan from both annoyance and frustration.

“If you can’t relax, then I guess we’ll have to do it the hard way.” He growls, leaning back on his legs before grabbing onto both of your calves. Your eyes widened in horror when he spread your legs far apart before roughly thrusting into your aching hole. A shrill scream emits from you; your head flies back against the floor of the Golden House, your back arches, and your thighs tense up from the sharp pain. Childe’s head rolls back from the pleasure he felt when he had fully sheathed inside of your walls. Loud and deep pleasured moans escaped from Childe. His head was thrown back, feeling his eyes roll to the back of his head. The way your gummy walls squeeze so tightly around his cock, made him almost cum right on the spot, but he held himself back from doing so. Childe feels his body quivering with pleasure, fighting the urge to ram into your tight walls.

Childe pulls his hips back before sending another powerful thrust up against your hips, his dick sliding into your entrance. The searing pain in between your legs was making it hard for you to focus on what was going on. Childe begins to send short, hard thrusts. Childe wraps your legs around his waist, and he leans on both of his arms, continuously plunging his dick in and out of your entrance. The pain between your legs was gradually becoming dull; soon, the pain was replaced with pleasure. Small, weak moans and whimpers escape your lips each time the bulbous tip of his cock hits the sweet spot inside of you, causing you to see stars dancing in your vision.

“Come on, snookums. Don’t hold back your cute moans from me now.” Childe coos, stroking your chin as he continues to deliver harsh thrusts. His hips were slamming against yours, and the sound of skin-to-skin contact echoes throughout the Golden House. Aside from the sound of skin slapping echoing in the Golden Hose, both your and Childe’s moans were accompanying it. Childe’s balls were slapping against your ass with every thrust, his balls coated in your slick. One strong thrust against your hips caused his cock to reach deeper parts inside of you, causing you to arch your back with a loud cry. Childe groans and reaches up to grab onto your hair before yanking it back. Your walls were beginning to tighten around Childe’s dick, his hips stuttering against yours. Childe’s head falls on your shoulders before hamming into you; you cried out in pleasure, holding onto his shoulders while your nails dug into his clothes.

“C-Childe! I-I’m going to…” You wailed, burying your face into his chest.

“Don’t cum yet! Don’t you dare cum until I tell you that you can!” Childe growls, lifting his head off your shoulders before proceeding to plunge his thick, monstrous cock in and out of your hole. You shrieked, your eyes squeezing shut as you tried to resist the urge to cum on his dick.

“But! I-I can’t!” You whimpered, feeling the tight rope in your lower abdomen becoming tighter. Childe clenched his teeth together, rolling his hips against yours, hitting the same spot deep inside of you once more. The coil in your lower abdomen suddenly snaps, and your jaws drop, a silent scream escaping from your mouth as you creamed all over Childe’s cock. Childe pistons into your hole before cumming deep inside of you.

You jolt up in your bed, covered in sweat. You looked around your bedroom, your chest heaving as you tried to take deep breaths to calm down. You took a gulp of air; you threw your legs over your bed to get up for the day, only to feel how soaked your underwear was. You feel heat rush to your cheeks; you cover your face with your hands and groan.

“It was all a dream.” You patted your cheeks, trying to erase the very vivid dreams out of your mind. There was no way you’re going to be able to face Childe after having a wet dream of him in his Foul Legacy transformation, railing you so hard with the Foul Legacy’s monstrous co— you slap yourself on the cheeks. You’re going to need a hot shower, that’s for sure. Hopefully, a nice hot shower will calm your nerves and take your mind off of the dream you had of Childe and his Foul Legacy transformation. The dream felt so vivid; it’s almost like it actually happened. Your thighs were aching, and your legs felt funny. Each step you took was a limp rather than how you’d normally walk. Your eyebrows furrowed in confusion as you reached down to press down in between your legs. You can feel a dull ache. At first, you didn’t know what the cause of the soreness between your legs was, but then it dawned on you. Zhongli and Diluc. It had been only a day since the little…. Intimate moment between you, Zhongli, and Diluc happened. You covered your face in embarrassment before limping to the bathroom. Great, how are you going to face the others after the whole incident?

“Is [Y/N] still asleep?” Diluc asks, setting a plate of pancakes down in front of Scaramouche before heading over to his seat with his own plate of breakfast and sitting down right beside Zhongli. It was quiet, and the atmosphere was almost tense among the men. Diluc was the first one to speak up out of the rest of the men. The others seem to hold some hostility against both the wine tycoon and ex-archon.

“It appears so, [Y/N] must’ve been really tired.” Zhongli hums, sipping on his coffee after gently blowing air onto it to cool down.

“Huh, I wonder what could be the cause of them to be so tired.” Childe huffs, crossing his arms over his chest with a deep frown on his face.

“It’s quite obvious as to why [Y/N] is taking so long to get out of bed.” Albedo sighs, shaking his head as he cuts his pancake with a knife.

“Oh? And what would that reason be?” Zhongli asks nonchalantly, setting his coffee mug down on the table before grabbing his utensils.

“Don’t act like you don’t know the reason as to why [Y/N] is taking so long to get out of bed.” Dainsleif rolls his eyes, crossing his arms over his chest.

“You guys do know that we heard everything, right?” Ayato asks, lifting up his milk tea before sipping from it as he keeps his eyes trained on both Diluc and Zhongli.

“Yeah, the three of you weren’t quiet at all,” Itto says, shoving pancakes into his mouth with a huff of breath, clearly annoyed about the incident from a few days ago.

“What does it feel like?” Scaramouche asks, stabbing his pancake before shoving it into his mouth and chewing on the pancake bitterly.

“What does what feel like?” Diluc asks, cocking his eyebrow at the electro Harbinger.

“Oh, you know what he’s asking.” Xiao rolls his eyes, his jaws ticked.

Kaeya rests his elbow on the table before he rests his chin on the palm of his hands. “What does it feel like to be inside of [Y/N]?” Kaeya asks as a bitter smile appears on his face. “Warm? Tight?” He raised an eyebrow at both Diluc and Zhongli, who kept calm the entire time.

“Ahem!” Thoma clears his throat awkwardly before giving everyone an awkward smile. “Listen, I know most of us are upset, but let’s not talk about it while we’re having breakfast.” Thoma says gently, cutting his pancake into small bits before eating it.

“How can we have breakfast when [Y/N]’s not even down yet?” Venti asks, pouting at the rest of the men.

“I’m sure that whenever [Y/N] is ready to eat breakfast, they’ll come down from their bedroom.” Baizhu says, drinking his valberry juice.

The sound of your bedroom door opening made the men go silent. They hear your footsteps walking toward the stairs. You were finally out of the shower and fully dressed, but the minor issue was it was a little bit hard for you to walk casually without making it evident that there was a limp in your walk. You have decided to walk down the stairs slowly, hoping that it will make your walk look a little bit normal. You’re just mentally praying to the archons that no one will notice the limp in your walk. You paused in your steps, realizing that you’re currently living under the same roof as two other archons. Well, one archon and one ex archon. The ex-archon was the one that caused you to have the limp in your walk, whereas the red-headed wine tycoon was the reason why you feel even more tired than you usually do. To say the least, you were surprised to see that there are people who have that much stamina. Whether they wield a vision or not, people with high stamina levels never cease to amaze you. Considering you are one of the people that wish to have high stamina, only to run out of breath while walking up the stairs.

“Good morning, [Y/N]!” Kazuha gives you a polite smile, lifting his cup to take a sip from it. He was secretly sipping sake, telling the others that it was water.

“How was your sleep last night? I hope you slept well!” Gorou says, giving you a bright smile. The men give you a smile as you sit down between Childe and Scaramouche.

“Good morning! I slept pretty well, actually! Like a baby.” You said, grabbing onto your knife and fork before cutting into the stacks of pancakes in front of you.

“Did you now?” Ayato hums, cocking an eyebrow at you as he continues to drink his milk tea.

“Yes, I think it’s the best sleep I’ve ever gotten.” You hummed, lifting the slice of the pancake before putting them into your mouth.

It was nice to have breakfast after doing some rigorous activity yesterday; who knew that exerting your body can cause you to be so famish! You hummed in delight when the flavor bursts into your mouth. You lift your eyes, only to see the fifteen men stare at you intently, barely touching their breakfast. You blinked at all of them in confusion, your head tilting to the side. The looks they had on their face was rather odd.

You cleared your throat awkwardly before asking, “Is there something on my face by any chance?” You reached for a cloth napkin before lightly wiping your face.

“Yeah, another man’s cum and not mine.” Childe huffs, causing Gorou and Xiao to choke on their drinks at Childe’s terse response.

“Excuse me?” You squeaked, looking at Childe like a deer caught in headlights. How are you supposed to respond to a comment like that when you literally had a wet dream about the man himself!?

“You don’t have anything on your face, don’t worry about it,” Dainsleif interjects, looking over at Childe with a glare. Childe rolls his eyes before continuing to eat his breakfast grumpily. Oh boy, an unhappy Childe is a problem Childe.

“So! What do you think of the pancakes, [Y/N]?” Venti asks, drinking his wine. You blinked at the drink in Venti’s hand before pointing at it, raising an eyebrow at the anemo archon.

“Breakfast is fantastic, but isn’t it too early to drink wine?” You ask.

“It’s never too early to have a sip of wine or two.” Kazuha hums, swirling the sake in his cup.

“If you say so.” You sighed, continuing to eat your breakfast.

“Ah yes, the wise words of an alcoholic.” Itto chimes, letting out a hearty laugh before roughly patting both Kazuha and Venti, causing the two to jerk in their seats at the impact.

“Hm, seems like the perfect nickname for those two and the cryo vision holder over there,” Xiao says, gesturing his head towards Kaeya’s direction. Kaeya smirks at Xiao’s comment, leaning back in his seat with an amused look on his face.

“Let’s not start any problems at this time! After all, it is still early in the morning.” Gorou laughs nervously.

“Why is everyone so weird today?” You sighed, reaching for your drink to hydrate yourself. While you may have a guess or two as to why the men have been acting off today, you didn’t want to say it because it would make the situation even worse. Or, at least that’s what you think is going to happen. Even if you didn’t say the apparent reason as to why everyone (except for Diluc and Zhongli) has been acting tense, the men look like they wanted to explode. Either from their jealousy and anger or because they want to blow their load onto your face. Either way, it’s bound to happen any time soon.

“Everyone is acting weird because all of us heard you, the ex-archon, and that wine tycoon getting it on yesterday,” Scaramouche says, giving you a look. You feel your face becoming hot when all eyes land on you, Diluc, and Zhongli.

“Were we that loud?” You squeaked; you could tell that your face was just as red as Diluc’s hair, if not perhaps even darker.

“You were loud,” Childe muttered, looking at you from the corner of his eyes with a deep frown on his face.

“O-Oh, was I now?” You laugh sheepishly, feeling the heat travel down your neck and chest.

“Literally singing to Celestia and everything.” Baizhu chuckles, shaking his head while Changsheng hissed with laughter. Oh great, even the snake hears you moan and whine Diluc and Zhongli’s name, not just the men.

You covered your face with your hands, trying to keep yourself calm while your heart was racing in your chest. How are you going to face them now? You can’t go anywhere or be around them without knowing that they heard you getting your organs rearranged by Zhongli and Diluc. Zhongli and Diluc didn’t seem to mind that everyone knew they were the first ones to be inside of you (technically, it was Diluc, but both were able to bed with you before the others could).

“Well, I think [Y/N] singing to Celestia is beautiful,” Diluc says, the corner of his lips quirked up into a faint smirk.

“You should see their face when they’ve reached their peak of pleasure,” Zhongli adds, a victorious smile appearing on his face.

“Okay, no need to brag that you two were able to rearrange their guts, okay?” Itto says, his mouth full of pancakes. He looked concentrated as he tried to chew a mouthful of pancake in his mouth, his cheeks puffed out.

“Let’s not talk about this now at the table, shall we? We still have breakfast to finish.” Venti says, taking another sip of his wine.

“Yes! Let’s eat breakfast, and then we’ll talk later!” Gorou nods his head in agreement before chowing down his breakfast.

Breakfast was quiet; the only sound that was heard was the sound of utensils clinking against the plates. Sometimes, one person would say something, and the other would reply. The silence was comfortable, but the tension was still there, and the tension was heavy.

“So, anyone had an interesting dream last night?” Thoma asks, wiping his mouth with the cloth napkin.

“I had the strangest dream about being on an island, and the ocean was milk tea,” Ayato says, furrowing his eyebrows as he tries to recall the dream he had the previous night.

“Maybe your dream is trying to tell you something!” Itto says, letting out a loud burp before excusing himself with a sheepish smile.

“And what would that be exactly?” Scaramouche rolls his eyes, taking another bite from his pancake. The men pondered for a moment, their left and right hands caressing their chins as they tried to decipher what Ayato’s dream could be trying to tell him. Alas, most men came up with nothing, except for Xiao, who rolled his eyes with a loud sigh. The men look over at Xiao curiously, waiting for Xiao to say what was on his mind. You just hope that none of the men ask you about what you’ve dreamt of the night before because you don’t think you can tell them a lie. After all, they know when you’re lying. Especially Childe.

“His dream could be a sign, telling him to stop drinking so much boba because it’s not good for you,” Xiao says, getting up from his seat with his empty plate in his hand.

“While milk tea is delicious, drinking that much sugar is not good for you. I agree with Xiao and your dream on that one.” Albedo says, dabbing his lips with the cloth napkin.

“I think drinking milk tea is far less dangerous than the three drunkards in this abode.” Scaramouche retorts, looking over at where Kaeya, Venti, and Kazuha sat.

“Hey, we know our limits! We don’t go overboard with our alcohol intakes.” Kaeya says, holding his hand up as if he was surrendering.

“Well, some of us are better at controlling the amount of alcohol we drink than others.” Kazuha chuckles softly, looking over at the drunken bard.

“And yet the three of you continue to drink over the normal limit.” Dainsleif sighs, shaking his head in disapproval.

“What about you, [Y/N]?” Thoma asks happily, looking at your curiously, a sweet smile appearing on his face as he waits for your answer.

“What about me?” You blinked at Thoma, tilting your head to the side while looking at him quizzically.

“Thoma is asking about what you dreamt about last night!” Gorou replies, sipping on his sunsettia juice.

“O-Oh! I don’t think I remember my dream.” You laugh nervously, scratching the back of your neck.

Childe furrows his eyebrows before turning towards you, “You don’t think you can remember your dream?”

“Shit. He’s onto me.” Was what echoed in your mind as you tried to come up with excuses not to tell them what you’d dreamt of the night before. You sipped from your drink awkwardly while nodding your head slowly.

“I don’t have the best memory; there are times when it’s hard for me to remember dreams and other things.” You reply. Technically, you weren’t lying at all. There are times when you have a hard time remembering the littlest things. While you excel in your academics, remembering the simplest things is a bit challenging for you.

“I think you should see a doctor about that. That doesn’t sound good.” Baizhu says; Changsheng nods her head in agreement.

“Oh, no! It’s nothing to worry about. I hit my head a lot when I was a kid.” You said, brushing Baizhu’s comment off as if it was nothing.

The men stared at you, their mouths agape, not knowing what else to say. You continued to eat your breakfast while the men continued to stare at you as if they were waiting for you to give them an explanation as to what you meant when you said that you hit your head a lot when you were a kid. That’s concerning; how were you even alive? How often did you hit your head when you were a kid? Did you ever go to a doctor to get a checkup, just in case there were some damages done to your skull?

“Anyway! Please, tell us what you dreamt of last night. If you can sleep that long, I’m sure you can remember small bits of your dreams.” Itto says, looking at you with an expectant gaze. If he had a tail, you’re pretty sure that it would be wagging with anticipation like how Gorou’s tail is currently wagging.

“Okay, fine.” You sighed in defeat. “I had a dream about Childe, there. You happy now?” You crossed your arms over your chest.

“About the bloodthirsty Harbinger?!” Scaramouche asks, looking at you in disbelief.

“Um, aren’t you a bloodthirsty Harbinger too?” Ayato asks, cocking his eyebrows at the electro Harbinger with his arms over his chest.

“No, no! He’s the deranged psychopathic Raiden Shogun puppet Harbinger.” Venti corrects the Kamisato heir, ignoring the murderous look Scaramouche was giving him while taking a long sip of his dandelion wine.

“What was your dream about?” Xiao asks, turning towards you as he sits across from you.

“I’m not going into details!” You squeaked, looking at Xiao with an incredulous look on your face. You turned your head away from Xiao with an exasperated sigh. “You all asked me what my dream was about, and I answered your questions!” You huffed, getting up from your seat before walking to the kitchen to wash your dishes.

There was no way in hell you were going to give the men details as to what had happened in your dream when it came to Childe. You technically did and did not have a dream about Childe. It was his Foul Legacy form, but you didn’t know whether you should mention that it was Foul Legacy and not Childe, but that would give away what you’ve dreamt about. After you had left to go wash your dishes, the men looked over at Childe, who was deep in his thoughts.

“So, [Y/N] dreamt of another man right after getting their insides rearranged by two different men?” Albedo asks, stroking his chin.

“I wonder what [Y/N] could’ve dreamt about when it came to Childe,” Kazuha whispers to Albedo.

“Probably a dream about them avoiding Childe at all cost. I don’t blame them.” Kaeya jokes.

“Maybe that’s why [Y/N] has been acting a little bit strange when they’re around Childe,” Dainsleif mutters to himself.

“[Y/N] has always acted strange around Childe.” Diluc snorts, shaking his head. Childe frowned at Diluc’s comment before looking over at where you’ve disappeared off to. What could you be dreaming about him?

“Alright, alright. That’s enough. Since we’re all finished with our breakfast, let's clean up after ourselves now.” Zhongli says, getting up from his seat before heading to the kitchen with his empty plate and cup in his hands; the others soon followed after Zhongli.

Since you’ve revealed who your dream was about, you have been avoiding Childe all day as much as you could. Every time Childe comes up to you to talk to you, you would give him a shitty excuse to avoid talking to him. Even if Childe were to ask you where Itto or Zhongli is, you would give him a lousy reason before walking off, leaving the poor man behind, standing there watching you go in confusion.

Just when Childe thought it couldn’t get any worse, it did. Whenever he stepped into the room, you would get up and leave the room. If you’re in the same room as the fourteen other men and Childe comes along, you will act like Childe did not exist. Aside from the vulgar comment that he had made earlier that morning, Childe didn’t really know what he had done for you to avoid him like this. Sure, there are times when you would steer clear from him (playfully), but this one bothered him. It was almost like you were afraid to be around him. Well, the word afraid isn’t the perfect word to describe you whenever you’re in the same room as he was, but it felt that way to Childe. Perhaps the way you’ve avoided him seems like you’re embarrassed to be in the same room as him, and he didn’t know what the actual reason for you to avoid him. This dragged on for two days, and it was driving Childe crazy.

“Hey, has anyone seen [Y/N]?” Childe asks, walking into the living area where the men were resting.

“I think they’re in the bathhouse.” Ayato hums, flipping through the book in his lap while sipping on his beloved milk tea.

“Why’d you ask? Going to bother them or something?” Scaramouche asks, gazing at Childe skeptically.

“What? No! I’m going to try to talk to them because they’ve been avoiding me for two days now!” Childe exclaims, his shoulders slumped in defeat, a quiet sigh escaping from his mouth.

“Oh, yeah. I’ve never realized that [Y/N] was trying to ignore you.” Kaeya hums, scratching his chin with an amused look on his face.

“I don’t know. It was pretty obvious that [Y/N] didn’t want to be in the same room as Childe,” Zhongli murmurs, crossing his arms over his chest. “Perhaps the dream they had of Childe is bothering them,” Zhongli adds. After hearing Zhongli's comment, a lightbulb appears on top of Childe’s head.

“Oh my gosh, why haven’t I thought about that?!” Childe gasps, slapping himself on his cheek. The loud smack resounds in the living room, causing the others to flinch at the sharp sound of the slap. “Be right back. I’m going to have a talk with [Y/N]!” Childe says, turning around to walk off, only to be held back by Diluc.

“Are you sure you want to talk to [Y/N] while they’re in the bathhouse? I’m sure [Y/N] is in there to relieve their stress.” Diluc says, crossing his arms over his chest. “Surely seeing you again while they’re at their most vulnerable state would put them in more distress,” Diluc continues.

“Well, I’m not going to let them avoid me any further.” Childe huffs. He turns around before walking upstairs to his room.

“Uh, the bathhouse is outside, not indoors,” Kazuha calls out after Childe.

“I know! I’m just going to change out of my clothes before joining them in the bathhouse.” Childe replies, looking over his shoulder at the men.

“Join them?” Dainsleif asks, his eyebrows shot to his hairline after hearing Childe’s response.

“This can’t be good,” Xiao mutters, crossing his arms over his chest with a huff.

“Should we follow him just in case?” Itto whispers, looking at the others with a questioning look on his face.

In the bathhouse, you dropped your robe onto the ground before getting into the nice warm hotspring. You can feel the tension leaving your body, making you sigh in relief as you sink into the water up to your chin. The water was nice and warm. You close your eyes and rest your head on the edge of the hotspring, feeling yourself slowly doze off. Just when you were about to fall asleep, you heard the bathhouse door open and footsteps approaching towards where you’re resting.

“Wow! Feels nice in here!” Your eyelids flew open at the sound of Childe’s voice echoing in the bathhouse. Your eyes widen when Childe comes into your line of sight. His towel was hanging lowly around his waist; faint pink scars decorated his pale, muscular chest, and the ginger-colored hair from his belly button trails down to wherever it leads to. You feel your face turn bright red when Childe smiles down at you. There was a strange look in his eyes that you have a hard time deciphering.

“Mind if I join you snookums?” He asks, placing both of his hands on his waist as he gazes down at you curiously, his head tilted to the side.

“I was hoping to have some alone time, Childe.” You said, looking away from the ginger Harbinger with a faint frown on your face.

“Oh, come on! You’ve been avoiding me for two days now!” Childe lets out an exasperated sigh, throwing both of his hands in the air out of frustration. “What did I do to make you ignore me for two days in a row?” Childe demands, frowning at you.

“Nothing! I just want some alone time. After all, this is a bathhouse, and people are usually naked in bathhouses.” You muttered, pressing yourself against the wall of the hotspring.

“Stop lying to me, [Y/N]. I know when you’re lying.” Childe rolls his eyes, his towel dropping to the ground as he gets into the hotspring.

You quickly looked away from Childe, feeling yourself becoming even more flustered as he got close to you. Childe stands in front of you, his arms caging you against the wall of the hotspring. He tilts his head to the side to make sure you are looking at him. Using his left hand, he gently grabs your chin and tilts your head up, his eyebrows furrowing with concern.

“What made you avoid me?” Childe asks softly.

“It’s nothing.” You muttered, looking anywhere else that isn’t Childe. Childe clicks his tongue with annoyance, his right hand lightly tapping your cheeks. You look back at Childe like a petulant child, the bottom of your lips jutting out slightly. Childe’s eyes fall onto your lips, then back at your eyes.

“Is it the dream you had about me?” Childe asks. You nod your head slowly in response. “I didn’t hurt you, did I?” He asks; you didn’t know what else to say, really. It was a sexual dream about Childe himself, but Foul Legacy, and it wasn’t consensual at all. You know that Childe would never hurt you in that kind of way, but the dream made you feel uncomfortable. Not only because it was about rape, but it felt wrong because it was Childe, and you knew he wouldn’t dare to hurt you.

“The dream was about you, yes. But it was more about your…. Transformation.” You said slowly, unsure of how to explain your dream to Childe without feeling very awkward about it.

“Transformation? You mean my Foul Legacy transformation?” He asks, looking at you in confusion. You nod your head.

“Oh, archons, I didn’t injure you in your dreams, did I!?” He asks, looking at you like a kicked puppy.

Your eyes widen, “No! No! You didn’t hurt me at all! Well….” You trailed off, scratching the back of your head awkwardly. “It was a wet dream, okay? Only, the sexual part was not consensual at all.” You said, swallowing the lump in your throat.

“So, is that why you’ve been avoiding me? Because you were afraid that I was going to rape you like how Foul Legacy did in your dreams?” He asks.

“No! That’s not the reason why I was avoiding you!” You exclaimed, your voice echoing throughout the bathhouse. “I felt bad about having an inappropriate dream about you when all I’ve been doing was hurt you.” You frowned, tears forming in your eyes. Childe cups your face in his hands, both of his thumbs wiping away the tears that made their way down your flushed cheeks. You cleared your throat and looked away from Childe; tears continued to cascade down your bright red cheeks.

“You’re not hurting me. The only time that you’re hurting me is when you ignore me.” Childe says softly, pressing his forehead against yours. “Please don’t shut me out.” He whispers, wrapping his arms around your waist, pulling you close to him.

You wrap your arms around his waist and bury your face against his muscular chest, hearing his heart beating softly against his chest. You knew that Childe had a soft spot for you, but you didn’t think it would be to the point where he would be so vulnerable around you. The guilt of having an atrocious wet dream about Childe’s Foul Legacy form performing nonconsensual sexual acts on you horrified you because you knew that Childe would never commit these things against you.

“I’m not trying to shut you out, Childe. I feel really guilty for having a dream about you doing awful things.” You whisper, tightening your grip around him.

“Don’t feel guilty for having a dream you can’t control. No one can control their dreams, ever.” Childe says, pulling back from the hug, cupping your face in his hands. “Please, if you would allow me to do so, let me erase the awful dream from your mind,” Childe says softly, brushing the stray hair away from your face.

“How are you going to do that? Give me amnesia?” You look at him in confusion. Childe snorts and shakes his head. Childe lightly pinches your cheeks; the way he stares at you makes your heart throb painfully against your chest. Why must Childe look at you that way? Does he want you to fall in love with you or something?

“Can I kiss you?” Childe asks, leaning his face close to yours, the tip of his nose lightly brushing against yours.

“I don’t know, can you?” You teased, looking up at Childe with a shit-eating grin on your face.

“Listen here, you little shit…” Childe states, looking down at you with an exasperated look on his face. You let out a loud laugh at his comment before burying your face into his chest. Childe begins to snort before breaking out into soft laughter, his arms thrown over your shoulders.

“May I kiss you?” Childe asks.

He’s doing that thing again! Gazing you with that soft gaze of his, the tiny endearing smile that makes your heart race against your chest. You feel your face warm up at the sight of his smile. You swallowed the lump in your throat before nodding your head slowly.

“Yes, you may.” You whisper, your hands slowly grabbing onto Childe’s biceps.

Childe caresses your face in his right hand, his thumb brushing over your cheek lightly before slowly leaning down towards your face. Both you and Childe close your eyes before your lips meet in the middle. The kiss was soft and gentle; Childe held you in his arms as if you were fragile glass. The kiss gradually got heated between the two of you. Childe pins you against the wall, his lips slowly leaving yours as his lips trail down your neck. You let out a soft gasp, feeling his lips brushing the sensitive area on your neck. Shivers wracked through your body when he began to lick and suck on your neck lightly.

“C-Childe.” You whisper, your grip on his arm tightening.

“Fuck, baby. I need you so bad.” Childe breathes, his hands reaching up for your hair before tangling his fingers into your hair, lightly tugging on it. Your head was pulled back, a soft moan and whimper escaping from your lips as Childe began to mark it up by leaving gentle bites and sucking on the base of your neck. Your eyes rolled to the back of your head when you felt Childe’s right knee push your legs apart, pinning your waist to the wall. His knees rub your most sensitive parts, making you gasp at the sensation. Your nails dug lightly into his biceps, and you bit down on your bottom lip, trying to hold in the sounds of your whines.

“Let me show you that I’m better than the Childe in your dreams, please, please, please.” He whimpers into your ears, his fingers tangling in your hair. You feel his cock hardening against your thighs as he lightly ruts up between your legs. You let out a gasp, feeling the head of his dick prod your entrance.

“Show me. Do it.” You whisper back. “Please, please, Childe.” You dug your nails into his back. Childe groans at the sound of your pleas before crashing his lips against yours. You wrap your arms around his shoulders, fingers gripping onto his ginger locks, gently tugging onto them. Childe lets out a moan, rubbing his stiff cock between your legs.

“I’ll be gentle with you, I promise.” Childe coos, peppering kisses on your face as he grabs onto your right leg and lifts it up over his shoulders.

You yelped loudly and held onto Childe tightly, afraid of slipping and falling in the hotspring. Childe grabs onto your left leg, wrapping it around his slim waist before grabbing onto the base of his member, pumping it lightly in the palm of his hand.

“I’m going to make you feel so good.” He grunts. Childe lightly taps the bulbous head of his cock against your hole, lightly rubbing it between your legs. You shivered with anticipation, waiting for Childe to insert his long cock into your entrance. Childe slowly enters your sopping wet hole, his jaws clenching tightly as he sinks slowly into your entrance.

“F-Fuck! Childeeee!” You whimpered. You closed your eyes and buried your face into his neck.

“Fuck, you’re so tight, baby.” Childe groans. His head fell onto your shoulders. Childe lightly bites down onto your shoulders, making you whimper and involuntarily clench around his cock. “You’re squeezing my cock so firmly. Archons, you feel so good.” Childe groans, continuing to sink further into your hole. You tried your best not to tense up, knowing that it would make it harder for Childe to slide into you smoothly and painlessly.

“Why are you so big?” You whimpered; your hands were shaking at the feeling of Childe’s cock breaching your walls.

It felt so good, but it hurts. It hurts too good. You bit down on your bottom lip, feeling Childe come to a complete stop. You let out a gasp of breath when you felt the mushroom tip of his cock nudge the sensitive area deep inside of you. His chest was rising and falling at a rapid pace as he tried his best not to lose his mind at the feeling of your walls wrapping around his cock very tightly. You whimpered at the overwhelming pleasure, feeling yourself shake in Childe’s arms. Childe buries his face further into your neck, his eyes almost rolling to the back of his head from the immense pleasure he was feeling.

“I’m going to move now. Are you okay with that?” Childe asks, his lips pressing against your ears. His hot breath fanned against your skin, causing goosebumps to form on your body as you quivered in his arms.

“Y-Yes, please do.” You squeaked, burying your face into his collarbone as Childe pulled back his hips before lightly snapping his hips up against yours. A breathy gasp escaped from your mouth, your jaws dropping in the shape of the letter “o,” as your eyes closed in pleasure from the feeling of Childe’s cock leaving and entering your hole. Childe continues to thrust in and out of your entrance, his pace slowly picking up with each thrust. The sound of water slapping from where both you and Childe were connected resonated throughout the bathhouse. If you weren’t so deep into the pleasurable feeling, you would’ve been embarrassed at the sound and shied away from it. But instead, the breathy moans, whines, gasps, and yelps coming from you were gradually getting louder and louder each time Childe thrusts up into your most sensitive spot.

“I just want to breed this pretty little hole.” Childe grunts, pinning you up against the wall while continuously thrusting up into your sopping wet hole.

“Do it, please breed me.” You whined, tightening your legs around his waist, pulling him closer to you. Childe felt the last bits of sanity within him snap at the sound of your pleas. Childe grabs your face in his hands, pressing his lips against yours. You tangled your fingers into his hair; both your and Childe’s tongue intertwining against each other. Childe pulls away from the kiss, pressing his forehead against yours. His dicks continue to plunge in and out of your entrance.

“Archons, you drive me insane, baby.” Childe grunts, pressing his lips hard against yours. You yelped when the mushroom tip of his cock kissed your g-spot, causing you to see stars dance in your vision. “I’m going to breed this pretty little hole of yours.” Childe pants, the tip of his nose pressing against your cheek.

He grabs onto the back of your neck before pressing his lips against yours once more. Your hands automatically reach for Childe’s hair, lacing your fingers in his messy ginger locks. Childe’s thrusts become sloppy as he is nearing his end; the coil in your lower belly starts to tighten as Childe’s dick continues to hammer in and out of your entrance. The last thrust Childe sent snaps the tight coil in your lower stomach.

Your vision suddenly turns white as your mouth drops, feeling yourself cumming around Childe’s member. Childe’s moan fills your ears, his hot cum spurting deep inside of you before overflowing out of your entrance and into the hotspring. Both you and Childe collapse against one another, breathing heavily. Childe slowly pulls his soft cock out of your warm entrance, groaning softly.

“That was….” You trailed off, gulping air as you tried to catch your breath.

“That’s the best sex I’ve ever had,” Childe says, wiping the thin layer of sweat from his forehead with a boyish grin on his face.

“Oh, you’ve had sex with someone else aside from me?” You ask, looking at Childe with your eyebrows raised.

“Hey, you had sex with Diluc and Zhongli yesterday,” Childe says, pinching your cheeks tightly. You whined and swatted at Childe’s hands; Childe snorts before stopping. You muttered under your breath and looked away from Childe, your arms over your chest.

“Great, looks like the hotspring will need to go through some deep cleaning after this.” You grumbled, scrunching your face in disgust.

“Yeah, no kidding! Way to sully the water, you two!” A voice interjects, startling both you and Childe. Itto walks into the bathhouse with a tiny frown on his face as he approaches where you and Childe are at; he squatted in between you and Childe, his face pinching up in disgust.

“Now that Childe had his fun, it’s my turn now!” Itto huffs, snatching you out of the water before walking away with you in his arms.

“What?! Hey!” Childe exclaims, watching you get snatched up by Itto. Childe groans and runs his hands through his hair with a sigh of frustration. He can never have alone time with you, he swears! Childe got out of the hotspring and wrapped the towel around his naked waist before following you and Itto out of the bathhouse, a couple of feet behind. Once Childe had left the bathhouse, he saw the other men standing there with their arms crossed over their chests. They look like they were about to scold him at any minute, and Childe is not ready to get an earful from the thirteen other men.

“Oh, so all of you are going to lecture me and not Itto for carrying [Y/N] out of the bathhouse while they’re butt ass naked?” Childe asks, crossing his arms over his bare chest with a huff of breath.

You shied yourself away from the eyes of the thirteen men when Itto walked out of the bathhouse. Your face was bright red when you made eye contact with some of them while wishing that Itto could have at least let you put on your robe before carrying you out of the bathhouse.

“Itto! If you’re going to snatch me up like that, at least get me my robe!” You whined, weakly punching his bare chest while covering your face with your left hand. Your face felt so hot; you could still feel the remnants of your and Childe’s cum mixing and leaking out of your sopping wet hole.

“Psh! Why need a robe when you’re going to be naked again in a moment?” Itto laughs boisterously, tossing you over his shoulders before slapping your ass. You yelped and winced in pain, gently rubbing the area where Itto had smacked you. Just when you thought you could relax after your and Childe’s intimate moment, Itto has other plans.

Note: To be honest, I think this is a slight improvement of the Zhongli x Isekai'd!reader x Diluc smut. It's still cringey to me since this is my, what, third time posting a smut? I have officially graduated from college, but I'm still not done with college itself. I am on summer break now until September. Oh, from late June to early July, the posting schedule will be weird because my friend is coming to visit and we're going to anime expo together! I won't be able to post lengthy posts like this until after anime expo week. Please keep in mind that I ONLY post on my Tumblr (Genshinluvr) and my AO3 (Aaliah_exo)! Nowhere else except Tumblr and AO3!

Taglist for "Various Genshin Men x Isekai'd!Reader" and my overall taglist: [Didn't tag anyone for this post because I didn't want anyone to be uncomfortable. If you want to be tagged in this particular post, let me know by responding to this post]

Taglist Google Form is currently closed at the moment due to Tumblr having tagging limits on posts ;-; Masterlist [here]

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flyingcatstiel · 4 months

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I’m currently reading superbat fics (sorry, destiel, stony and dinluke, I’ll get back to you some day) and I’m having great time with commenting and authors replying to me. It’s a whole new fandom experience when I can read fics just for personal enjoyment, without planning fic rec lists. So much easier to comment, wtf. Anyways, I’m following 4 superbat identity p*rn fics right now, and it’s glorious. What a feast. My favorite trope, so many interesting ways to explore it. Happy holidays to all superbat writers but especially those 4 WIP writers🎄

ETA - here be some recs

ETA, March 2024 - HERE BE SOME UPDATES!

@pinkb00bsocks asked about those 4 WIPs. Here they are! The usual disclaimer - there are plenty of excellent superbat WIPs going on right now, but I've limited spoons and these are the ones I currently enjoy.

The World and All Its Hedgehogs by Ginevra_Benci [M. 8,007 word count, WIP, 4/?] To investigate illegal arms sale taking place at a tropical resort hotel, Batman goes under cover as a vacuous billionaire Brucie Wayne and Superman takes a part time job as a porter. They didn't coordinate this, they don't know each others civilian identities. Every time they talk there are at least 3 different conversations going on and it is glorious. Also, so much lust. ;)

(Also, check out Interviewing & Counceling series by the same author. Clark is having a superhero identity crisis and Bruce is there to catch Clark gently as he spirals down. It has one of the softest identity reveals in superbat fics. ETA - the series is now complete, it has 5 parts and 18k word count. Awesome ending to the softest identity reveal story)

Watching Our Stars Align by ClarkeStetler [M, 28,840 word count, WIP, 7/14] There's a dating/chatting app only for superheroes and all identities are secret. What could go wrong? Bruce and Clark get matched under their new pseuds, and same happens to Tim Drake and Conner Kent. Now fathers and sons gotta navigate complicated relationships that come with secret identities and judging your coworkers hastily while talking heart to heart to anonymous superhero. The identity porn part happens through DM, which just happens to be another favorite trope of mine. [The story is going strong, it has 10/14 chapters now and a wonderful tangle of 3 secret identities!]

(Love) Triangles Have Multiple Centers by frozenpotions [T, 27,281 word count, WIP, 4/10] This fic wastes no time getting playboy billionaire Brucie Wayne and pining-after-his-coworker journalist Clark Kent together. After that, first time uneasy partners Batman and Superman gotta solve a case and their civilian selves gotta deal with the realities of their one night stand. Complicated doesn't even cover it! [The fic is being updated and Clark and Bruce are being put through new trials, 6/10 chapters]

A Favor for a Friend by RedFive [Explicit, 18,286 word count, WIP, 4/7] Omega verse fic with alpha playboy billionaire Bruce Wayne and omega journalist Clark Kent. I'm fascinated by dominant, flirtatious, sexually ravenous alpha Brucie Wayne who moonlights as a stoic, covered in scent blockers thus unclear second gender, Batman. Meanwhile omega Clark, due to being Kryptonian, is much less ruled by his second gender. That is, until he meets Mr. Wayne. This fic has so much lust and tension between the two. Does accidental heat triggering counts as a soulmate mark? I'm gonna count it like that. [The fic has entered the finish line, only a chapter or two are left to finish this wild, explosive, life changing story of two people who were meant for each other. 8/? chapters, 44k word count] The fic is now complete!!! 9 chapters, 56,153 word count. (Also, there's this new TV show about two gay dudes, and istg, they look like Bruce and Clark from this fic. I'm not naming it here because I don't want to highjack the show tag with superbat post, but go and check the tag on tumblr)

*****

And a special shout out to two identity shenanigan WIPs that are not actively updating but are absolute must reads.

ship-to-ship combat by pomeloquat [M, 62,737 word count, WIP, 12/13] OK, so, for me personally, this is the ultimate identity p*rn fic across all fandoms I've read so far. This fic has one of the highest amount of secret identity pairs in superbat fics. There's the usual pining silently Batman/Superman, then there's Clark dating Bruce, Superman saving Bruce Wayne from peril, Clark Kent chatting with Batman. And the cherry on top is Clark writing Bruceman fanfic which is basically a RPF of his two friends, Batman and Bruce Wayne. Which leads to an internet friendship with a fellow fan, who is, you guessed, Bruce. This fic has great reflections on fandom and shipping culture. But the very beating heart of this fic is about how easy it is to lose something you wished to have but were afraid to ask for. The fic, at 12/13, is technically a WIP, but the main reveal is already done, and it is glorious. ETA - THIS IS NOT A DRILL, the fic is finished and the last chapter is a super meta cherry on a top of delicious, layered superhero identity and fandom shenanigans parfait. 13 chapters, 76,7k word count.

10 Things Every Brucie Fan Needs in Their Life by pomeloquat [T, 8,956 word count, WIP, 5/10] The main premise of this fic is hilarious and yet so, so right. Bruce Wayne is promoting himself as a nation's boyfriend instead of a playboy, and is making bank out of his wholesome, PG rated merchandise. The chapters of this fic tell continuous story but they also can be read as separate vignettes, so there's really no cliffhanger. This fic is so soft and fluffy, it will heal your soul. Also, Superman has celebrity crush on Bruce Wayne. Batman is amused.

#flyingcatstiel has thoughts #I’m doing small superbat reblog spree tonight #just to get everything out of my drafts #superbat #identity p*rn #identity shenanigans #superbat fic recs #i already added these to the reblog #but eh #let's ad them here as well #add #i worked hard on them #sometimes i forget how to tumblr #fic rec of the day

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nozunhinged · 4 months

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7 BL Newbie Moments of 2023 That Altered My Brain Chemistry

So I went through all my posts since the beginning of this journey and as much as I love dumping my insanity here without context or any punctuation, I feel that a lot of my fav moments deserve a bit more love and structure.

But first I need to put a bit of context so you won't be like "who the hell do they think they are" (aside from delusional I'm nothing, I promise) and my anxious overexplainer-heart is silenced.

My first BL TV show was Only Friends and only 5 months later I'm already throat deep into it (sorry). My watchlist is so endless that I sometimes (no, regularly) genuinely fear for my sanity. I'm still learning all the names and production houses but does that stop me from starting 10 other shows? NOPE.

I'm not new to queer fan spaces (avid manga reader since the yaoi days, my first ship was taito from digimon) but I am most definitely new to the brainrot levels these shows gave me.

And believe it or not, even though my shipper heart is over a decade old, I'm new to Tumblr and the fuel this platform added to the fire could burn down entire continents.

ANYWAYS if you're still here — please enjoy Noz's 100% self-indulgent moments!

1. The End And The Beginning - Only Friends

All I did was mindlessly scroll through the tumblr trends, no idea about how this website works, still sour and sad about the loss of my twitter bubble thanks to the elopocalypse—little did I know that fate would lead me to the wonderful world of BL shows! It was like this moment in isekai-esque movies where you get sucked into a world and you go WOOAAH once you arrive.

There was this show—on YouTube—100% unapolagetic about sex, relationships and queerness. Five minutes into the first episode, someone asks if they can bring their boyfriend to a hookup. This was ALL of my wildest dreams come true! Oh boy, was I naive.

I feel like Only Friends had me speedrun the whole BL industry. Branded pairs, production houses, fanservice, obsessive fans & haters, audience reactions influencing the storyline, EVERYTHING happened during Only Friends and I was just like "what the hell is going on here?" It was like the perfect case study for literally everything. Honestly I still don't really understand what's going on.

Unfortunately, this also led to the awful ending I erased from my brain and don't want to get into, I'm just gonna say Boston I will never forgive the writers for what they did to you. I dropped that show like a hot potato, filtered all possible tags and moved on — or so I thought.

I feel like I'm trying to recreate that first excitement when I discovered OF. But 20 shows later, I'm still not there. Does this make me sound like an addict? Yes, and this is why Only Friends EP 1 is my No. 1 moment that altered my brain chemistry.

2. The Boeing Incident - Only Friends

I talked about it just yesterday and I need to do it again because Boeing was the beginning of a thing that thought I'd never be capable of: lusting after real person TV characters. I talked about it in length here and here so the only thing I'm gonna add just for good measure is that I'd do anything, anything for a BostonBeoingNOZ threesome. Holy shit I'm cringing just writing this down but I need to get my point across.

3. Still Looking For That Kiss - Love in The Air

I know this is a general experience at this point but the chemistry between the couples in Love In The Air opened a whole knew world for me. I thought I knew chemistry but when I saw them, I realized I knew NOTHING.

It may sound weird but I'm still looking for that perfect kiss that's hitting all the right neurons in my brain. I have a hunch that one of these two pairs will deliver them one day, but until then I NEED to watch a million kisses for research.

This post by @talistheintrovert explains perfectly what I think about kissing in shows. Ji Chang Wook is still the blueprint for me.

But do I have a favorite BL kiss so far? Yes, yes I do. It's this ShinPeach beauty.

4. Main Lead Syndrome - Kiseki: Dear To Me

I am a second lead, side couple enby before I am human but I will defend these two until the end of time. My TL is flooded with Chen Yi, Ai Di, Nat and Louis while these two are over here falling in love over strawberry cake, cat analogies, failed cooking and all sorts of memory loss. Zongyi opened a fucking bakery for his babygirl and Zerui pretended to be a pretty dumdum to protect the love of his life.

I don't care how much you all love the two dumb (affectionately) gangsters, these two deserve the world, end of story. Also Kai Hsu and Taro Lin are bff's irl now, Taro said that Kai helped him get out of a very bad mental tate and I take that very personally.

5. The Fanservice is Fanservicing - Kiseki: Dear To Me

Speaking of Taro and Kai, the fact that I even know that they're bff's is another brainaltering moment that needs recognition because months later it led me to this TikTok of two actors I don't know of a show I don't watch, staring at them for ages and really considering watching it just because of it.

That is the power of fanservice my friends and I can put on my clownmask now because I avidly screamed left and right that fanservice should be forbidden when I learned about it. I blame Kiseki for that. But my point still stands, I hate actors doing stuff they're uncomfortable with. I just hope they're all friends and have fun and get that coin.

6. The One Just For Me - Playboyy

I've been lurking around Playboyy from the moment I found out they have the same writer as OF. And boy did it deliver so far! I already wrote a bunch here about which role Playboyy plays for me, but it's also a wonderful case study for my producer heart — watching the acting, directing, lighting, sets, props and storyline interact is fascinating.

People say the less you notice the better the show, which is correct, but I love all the flaws of this piece of media. IMHO it's the last puzzlepiece of the amazing, important social commentary the show delivers. All of the topics the couples represent need to get their very own show.

7. The Holy Grail - The Sign

Speaking of the less you notice — this is the sign for The Sign (again, sorry). There's a reason this show is loved and praised so widely because the production is on a whole other level. Adding the beautiful story on top of that, we have the potential for a holy grail here and I'm so in for the ride.

I keep saying I've entered the world of BL in it's absolute golden era. Never in a million years did I think I'd watch 5 shows simultaneosly but I love every single one of them so much I keep a whole spreadsheet on how I can be on time for every premiere every week alongside my work schedule.

Honorable mentions

KinnPorsche: VegasPete were my first dark, angsty, morally questionable couple ever (I'm a sissy okay)

Last Twilight: When I watched Extraordinary Attorney Woo, I cried several times about the wonderful media representation of disability. It means so much to me and Last Twilight is on par with that.

Bake Me Please: Thank you for giving me this beautiful kiss

Manner of Death: Thank you MaxTul for making gay makeouts fashionable

Bad Buddy: The one time I was glad I persisted so I could watch them most adorable phone scene on the planet

I Feel You Linger In The Air: It was too painful for me to finish but I loved the show with my whole heart and it deserves all the awards it got.

Kimi ni Todokanai: Japanese shows just hit different. I'll never get over the kissing Taiyaki.

The Novelist Series: THIS is how you kiss the one you're horny for my friends. Take notes directors.

Semantic Error: My fav webtoon -> Got Viki for the Series -> Found the BL corner of Viki -> Drew my attention to Tumblr -> This post.

Thank you for being the butterfly of my butterfly effect.

And thank YOU if you read until here! To a even more wonderful queer year 2024! I'm so ready for this ride.

#only friends the series #only friends #kiseki: dear to me #love in the air #love in the air the series #playboyy #playboyy the series #the sign #the sign the series #thai bl #japanese bl

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msmargaretmurry · 2 months

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Get to know you game! Answer the questions and tag people you want to know better!

I was tagged by the lovely @irrelevanttous <3

Last song listened to: she's a lady by forever the sickest kids. my current daylist is "old school punk millennial monday evening" and i put it on while making dinner and this was the last song it spun up before i had to go to class. EXTREMELY silly song but very fun to bop to in the kitchen. transports me instantly to drinking in a parking lot in allentown pennsylvania in 2008.

Currently reading: i JUST finished empire of cotton: a global history by sven beckert, which was my big read for school this week… fascinating and deeply depressing book lmao. i am also in the middle of the audiobook of courtney milan's the duke who didn't; i am enjoying a lot of things about it and think it is a very good historical romance even though it has the same shortfalls for me that most romances have, even very good ones, which is not an issue with the book but just with romance as a genre being unable to do the things that makes me truly feral about a book. i am also one chapter into robin hobb's ship of magic as part of my big ongoing robin hobb reread (up until i hit the end of the tawny man trilogy, at which point i will be treading new robin hobb ground… excited 4 me)

Currently watching: i got a paramount+ account so we could watch the superbowl so i've been using my access to watch stuff on there before i cancel it in a month, lol. currently that means finally watching the last 5 seasons of criminal minds, which is a deeply stupid show that for some reason i love very much. due to my grad school agonies i can only watch things that makes my brain feel smooth, and criminal minds makes my brain feel VERY smooth. i have also been rewatching doctor who, but i got through the first four seasons which are the important seasons so i might quit that rewatch.

Currently obsessed with: my big robin hobb reread, haha. idk, i don't really have the brainpower to be obsessed with much outside of my classes right now; my free time and energy are SO limited 😭 i have a couple of my own fic ideas that i'm pretty obsessed with! but tragically haven't been able to do much with them besides rotate them in my mind and make notes in my notes app.

tagging: @bropunzeling @vivathewilddog @larsnicklas @warmupbrawl @plaintoast but only if you want to! also sorry if you already did it and i missed it, if that is the case then i blame the shambles that tumblr has my dashboard in 🥴

#am i writing this post in class? maybe #in my defense the annoying guy keeps talking and so being on tumblr is actually more productive than listening #anyway this was fun ty miriam for tagging me! <3 #about meme

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sharky857 · 23 days

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20 Questions for Writers

Got tagged by @valkeakuulas :D

1. How many works do you have on AO3?

25 at the moment.

2. What's your total AO3 word count?

It appears that it's 161,853

3. What fandoms do you write for?

This ones (+ some more that live rent-free in my head and never saw the light)

4. What are your top 5 fics by kudos?

In case Tumblr won't let zoom in on the thing, from left to right: - Unwanted Visitor - Stupid Mistakes - Sour Dreams - Idiot Sandwich - Born Again

5. Do you respond to comments?

Yes! :D Even for something as simple as a "thank you".

6. What is the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

Something IL related from years ago (not on AO3). Back then part of the old fandom had dived into the doomiest & gloomiest collective musing ever called "okay but there will be one day when all the current humans will be either flippin' old or deceased, and the same can also happen to the leaguers, yanno? There's only this itty-bitty question of how our robutts would go through this. 🤔"

... Fun times. :°D

7. What’s the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?

Usually, my fics all have a happy (or neutral, at least) ending. ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

8. Do you get hate on fics?

Not happened so far. *catch me knocking on wood*

9. Do you write smut? If so, what kind?

I used to write smuts, always following the "here's an actual plot, here's the snusnu part, and here's the ending" kind of scheme.

10. Do you write crossovers?

Nope, but they also live rent-free in my head.

11. Have you ever had a fic stolen?

Does "they pulled a pathetic attempt at recreating one of the fics out of retaliation or something and only made it the cringiest mess ever that everyone brutally mocked them for quite a while until they deleted it" count?

12. Have you ever had a fic translated?

Yes, back when I was moving my (very first) baby steps with English. I would write fics in Italian, and then a friend of mine would translate them in English.

13. Have you ever co-written a fic before?

YES! :D Me and @evol-astraea did it a few times.

14. What’s your all time favorite ship?

15. What’s a WIP you want to finish but doubt you ever will?

My longestest Transformers (G1) fic ever.

The reason: I was so hyper-focused on typing that past a certain point I didn't realise I was NOT saving the progress anymore. Them MS Word did a crash. It was still without that feature to recover the documents, and I never recovered from those +10 pages lost. :°)

16. What are your writing strengths?

Idk, honestly :°°°D

17. What are your writing weaknesses?

Action scenes, I guess.

And that forever-lingering feeling that there are parts in a fic that don't feel like they convey the specific feeling as they should, but also I wouldn't even know how to tweak/improve it, so in the end I just leave it as it is.

18. Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language in fic?

It's fun! :D A little less fun when the character is a canon known to have a particular accent, and you, as a non-native, have absolutely no idea how to put said accent into words. :°D

19. First fandom you wrote for?

Not really a "fandom" since back then there was just me and this friend of mine, but... Spirou et Fantasio (the 90s toon/comic series).

20. Favorite fic you’ve written?

I have a quite a few that I like to go and re-read from time to time, but can't pick just one.

Tagging @evol-astraea, @missanthropicprinciple, @antsupuff and @alucardy2000 (shush, comics are a hybrid of fan art & fic 😛)

I'll be following Kuulas' example and leave the blank list of questions down here 👇

20 Questions for Writers

1. How many works do you have on AO3?

2. What's your total AO3 word count?

3. What fandoms do you write for?

4. What are your top 5 fics by kudos?

5. Do you respond to comments?

6. What is the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

7. What’s the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?

8. Do you get hate on fics?

9. Do you write smut? If so, what kind?

10. Do you write crossovers?

11. Have you ever had a fic stolen?

12. Have you ever had a fic translated?

13. Have you ever co-written a fic before?

14. What’s your all time favorite ship?

15. What’s a WIP you want to finish but doubt you ever will?

16. What are your writing strengths?

17. What are your writing weaknesses?

18. Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language in fic?

19. First fandom you wrote for?

20. Favorite fic you’ve written?

#sharky's got a tag!

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cashandprizes · 1 year

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5+1 Redacted Headcanons

thank you sooo much @ejunkiet you absolute darling for tagging me, this is so exciting!

Tagging my friends (hope you weren't tagged yet): @bratty-telepath, @penncilkid, @zozo-01, @latenightsleeper share your headcanons with the world (tumblr)

Uhhhhh since it's me we're just gonna put this bad boy under a cut, minors dni go away and as usual we take canon out back like ol yeller k thanks let's get into it

In case you haven't noticed, I have a lot of thoughts about Lasko Moore. I'm gonna talk about the fact that Lasko gives off such repressed Southern Bible Belt energy, tgwgigitgwdd. I think it would be so funny if he got rid of his southern accent until he forgets himself and says some real southern grandma shit like "Jesus Mary and Joseph" or "Mother of pearl" or "Jesus be a fence". I feel like Lasko's storyline is pretty queer coded and I think you know why not just add in a little religious trauma to top it off? Not only is being the magical queer son of an unempowered family hard, there's definitely some bible thumpers who think it's demonic, it's a sin, you name it. And who does everything is about church and you are filled with sin better than southern Catholics am I right? like iykyk. That man was repressed as fuck and moving to Dahlia and being around magic users was obviously so life-changing for him.

Which is where it gets spicy, cause it's me. Deep in Lexi (@autisticempathydaemon) and I's DMs is what I like to call the "Unholy Trinity" files, which is me just talking about various redacted characters and their hoe phases before canon started and this post features two different headcanons. When it comes to Lasko though, like I said that boy was REPRESSED and once he was on his own? Oh he went wild. I like to think it started with him going with his roommates or something to an unempowered frat party and he was like "I want to be this free. I want to not have to think" and it started with him just getting drunk but then he realized there's an even better way to shut your mind off that doesn't come with a hangover - getting fucked stupid. The most important part of this headcanon though was at the height of his hoe phase, he was at an unempowered frat party on a weekend after one of the local college sportsball teams won a championship. Lasko was like a little fucked up idk maybe he took some molly or something but he decided that since they won the game, there should be a reward right? Which ends up being him letting like 12 dudes on the football team run a train on him like some kind of hentai gangbang. He doesn't really remember it, but he's LEGENDARY at that college for years afterwards.

And then there's Doll cause it isn't me if I don't talk about Regulus. I obviously looove Reggie and while I hear the Regulus has kidnapped his listener and they are struggling against him, hear me out. I think it would be so delightful if Regulus's listener was someone who was at such a bad point in their life that Regulus was a welcome change. Doll thinks they're going crazy at first, but it's so nice to not have to worry about things anymore. They don't have to go to work, they don't have to worry about making and keeping friends, they don't have to worry about money - Regulus takes care of all of it. Regulus tells them exactly what to do and makes them do it and it's suuuuuuch a relief for them to have someone tell them what to do and to completely give into someone. Regulus to me seems like someone who needs to be needed and by god I gave him a listener who is so grateful for him erasing everything in their brain but him. Also playing with the idea that Doll could be blind, but that's a whooooole other post.

Sentencing your partner to three hours in silly jail for their silly crimes against humanity. love me a hot honey pizza So I love Guy and have been listening to him a lot and talking about him a lot. It's almost a problem. But I have this hilarious idea that after Guy and Honey got together, lived together for a while, really got into each other, they needed to get a new apartment. They're not super well off, but they weren't willing to compromise on the fact that they needed to be on a top floor and sturdy ceilings so they could have anchor points for suspension. Because Honey loves tying Guy up, gagging him, and sitting in a chair nearby with a cup of coffee getting some work done and their hoodie on while Guy... hangs out. get it, hangs out??? anyway there's also a sign in the room that says "Silly Jail" which Guy finger painted for Honey as a joke but is hung on the wall.

Milo..... oh Milo. How I have mentally corrupted you. This is part two of the unholy trinity files. I think Milo used to be, and I say this in the kindest way possible, a bit of a fuckboy. He was a good guy, he was really polite, but he wasn't interested in relationships but definitely into sex. And Milo Greer got AROUND. Lexi and I were like "how many people in canon can we have made him sleep with and can we put them in a groupchat called 'raise your hand if you've ever been personally victimized by milo greer' where they just trade stories about how buckwild he got before he grew out of it" and it's HILARIOUS. Somehow Vincent, Sam, and Alexis are in the gc and they HATE IT, Lasko and Gavin are in there, Hudson definitely is, and just a bunch of people. There's some HILARIOUS mock texts we made that I will share with you. “I didn’t know I could squirt until Milo Greer” "milo greer is all i can think about when people talk about men growling in erotic novels. i asked him for a demonstration for a book i was writing and somehow I ended up with my panties shredded, covered in bites, and dehydrated. my novel is doing really well now btw" "i cannot believe milo has fucked me and both of my siblings. good to know you're all here, say nothing about it ever" "when he said my size was not a problem he wasn't fucking playing. he deadlifted me because he thought it would make me feel better. this man had my ankles by my ears. no man has ever compared" "you know how guys like to say they can turn lesbians? if he got me, he could get others. lesbians are no longer safe"

And last but certainly not least I have been a whore I am a whore I will continue to be a whore - If being a hot werewolf boy means you don't have a knot, I don't want it anymore untrue but my point stands. I love a/b/o, I love knots, I'm a monsterfucker, what can I say? I think all of the Shaw pack would really just be improved if being a wolf shifter meant you got a fat knot. I know can't be the only one, come on somebody.

#WHEW THIS WAS A BEAST!!! had to go back through dms for a while!#tag games!#moon queue.#redacted #redactedasmr #redacted asmr #redacted audio #redactedverse #redacted milo #redacted lasko #redacted shaw pack #redacted guy #redacted honey #redacted regulus #speed run

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clairelsonao3 · 9 months

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Writer Q&A Tag Game

Thank you to @winterandwords for tagging me in this one! I love Q&As, I don't care what the questions are!

1. What motivates you to write?

The pursuit of fame and fortune.

Just kidding. No, in all honesty, there was a time when I was obsessed with writing for the market. I still want to make money with my fiction someday, I'm not gonna lie. But actually, it's always been about telling stories that I know no one else will tell and that need to be told. If I'm that invested in a story, nothing will stop me from finishing it.

2. A line/short snippet of your writing that you are most proud/happy of. If not maybe share a line of someone else's work you love (just please credit them)

This is the last section of the opening chapter of The Adored. And it's going to get changed, so don't get too attached. But the gist of it has stayed through all drafts:

CW: Mention of teen females (consensually?) groping a teen male:

Hell, before this year, he’d never left the state of Minnesota. He and Afton didn’t eat pie on a boat on their first date, either. They didn’t even have a first date. But he’s let the world believe it, along with a million other lies that look pretty under pastel filters and amazing in 200 characters or less. Lies that dance center stage, that come alive under the lights. The lies are Afton’s truth. Thayer’s truth. Social media’s truth.

But they aren’t ours. Micah's and my truth is different. It’s underground, rotting in basements and prison cells, and all the dark places he still prays never to have to go back to. It’s about the night I saw Afton with a man in a dark Jaguar that turns Micah pale when he sees it, about the chains that still choke his heart and soul. It’s the jagged puzzle whose pieces he relied on me to put together, then told me never to reveal — the whats, but not the whys.

It’s why we’re really quitting.

But there’s one last truth. It’s what he’s trusting me to find. Me, the gawky giraffe in borrowed Balenciaga, with a bass she can barely play. The blurry face in the background. The tacked-on name at the bottom of the story. Bandmate Isley Nash.

I want to ask him, why me?

But before I can, it’s over. He throws himself backward off the stage. His body arches through space like a supernova. This is the moment they’ve been waiting for. They caress him, groping his hair, his legs, his junk. His eyes close. He’s lost. He’s theirs. For them, there’s only tonight.

And unless I find that truth, tonight is all there will ever be.

3. Which OC makes you smile every time you think/talk about them and what are they like?

Micah (see above) is a reluctant teen rock star, a defiant rebel, a deadpan snarker, a (probable) murder victim, and my OG sad boi, so I'm always going to go with him.

4. What process of writing do you enjoy the most?

Editing. Drafting is trying to make something out of nothing, which is torture. Editing, meanwhile, is sculpting something you create (which is almost always terrible to start off with) into something good, which is fun and fulfilling. I will vomit unreadable, ungrammatical crap onto the page just so there's something there to edit when I go back. For me, that's where 99% of the real work of writing gets done.

5. What part of writing do you think you are the best at? (Yes stroke your own ego it's okay)

Dialogue! I think my dialogue is often funny and entertaining. Can I say that? I'm saying that.

6. What is something in the writeblr community is most enjoyable?

Getting tagged to fill out Q&As like this and ramble about myself ad nauseum! No, seriously, the community I've found on Tumblr has amazingly changed my life in the best way -- and I've really only been here a few months! Here, I've found talented writers, engaged readers, and all-around wonderful human beings, who do not only NOT judge me for my bizarre tastes, but in many cases actually share them. Finding a community like that is rare enough in the internet hellscape where we often find ourselves, let alone IRL, and I will be grateful for it always.

7. A writing tool/device you use that helps you with writing? (It could be speech to text, a writing program etc)

I've reluctantly come around to Grammarly, even though I snobbishly thought I didn't need it. Oh, and chatGPT. No, I'm kidding. I have tried it out, though. (Haven't we all?)

8. A piece of worldbuilding that you like in your own story? (It could be the magic system, a particular place in the story, a law etc)

CW for discussing slavery in a clinical, dispassionate way (IDK, might be a trigger for some).

I've long thought you can't really understand or write about slavery without understanding the basic economics behind it, whether historically or in a fictional context. In most fiction with institutionalized slavery, it's either completely controlled by a dystopian government or by one single, massive company. To me, neither seemed realistic, and I think this is where this world differs from other related ones. In the world of GSNBTR, slavery is like any other sector under capitalism: it's multiple businesses of various sizes and with different niches competing against each other for customers, while being regulated (relatively lightly) by the government (as lobbied for by special interests, of course). And that also means thinking hard about the kinds of roles slaves would be likely to fill in a modern society built on that system, where they come from (likely many different places), who would own, trade, and manage them (whether government, corporations, or individuals) and how they would be likely to be used -- ie., it's not just domestic servants and sex workers, in fact, those are likely the minority of slaves. The majority are fast-food workers, landscapers, cleaners, dishwashers, farmworkers, general laborers, etc. etc. I suspect some are also used in the entertainment industry in some capacity (i.e. some actors/musicians/athletes are literally owned by movie studies/record companies/sports leagues), but I haven't really puzzled this out in detail. This stuff isn't necessarily fun to think about, but it's a must in a story like this, and I definitely did spend a lot of time thinking about it.

9. What piece of advice would you say to encourage others to write if they are having a rough patch?

Are you writing what you really want to write? Always write what you want, not what you think you should. And if you can't write just for yourself, write for just one person. The rest of your audience will come naturally.

10. Tag some people whose works you love/have been your biggest supporters

I have to of course start with the talented writers whose work was so amazing it drew me in and got me to stay: @little-peril-stories @starlit-hopes-and-dreams

And then, to my astonishment, they reached out to support me and my own work, at times in ways far beyond anything I ever could have imagined. 💕

And then! On various levels, I've been lucky enough to know and interact with @i-can-even-burn-salad @whither-wander-whump @rickie-the-storyteller @mysticstarlightduck @painful-pooch @tabswrites @burntcoffeewhump, and @winterandwords!

And there are so many more great folks that I'm only just starting to discover, such as the following I'll gently tag (as well as OPEN TAG for anyone I mentioned above -- since you're already here, after all -- and anyone else reading this! 😂)

@romanceandshenanigans @digital-chance

#tag game #q&a #my writing #writeblr #wip: the adored #gsnbtr

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sapphiccharacterotd · 6 months

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Sapphic Character of the Day Submissions + FAQ

HELLO!! I'm accepting submissions for sapphic characters! I prefer characters who are canon sapphics, but implied is okay as well! You're allowed to submit headcanons, but I would prefer to promote media that features canon sapphics :) (/nm)

Submit as many characters as you like, but please try and keep it to this format so I can search for the character:

Formatting:

"[Character Name] from [Media] is a [canon/implied/headcanoned] sapphic. " (You may paraphrase, btw!)

You may also include things like:

Sexuality

Gender

Pronouns

Disability (I have a soft spot for this one as a disabled sapphic, haha. I would prefer this to only be canon/implied disabilities though)

Who they're in a relationship with/have a crush on (Only canon/implied stuff for this one please)

Your username

Anything else you'd like to include

If it's from a lesser-known media, you may wanna submit a photo with it.

Here's an example of one of my posts:

FAQ

(I'm writing this when I first started this blog so these technically aren't "frequently asked questions" but you get the idea T_T)

1. Can I submit real people?

No.

2. Can I submit characters played by actors?

You may! HOWEVER, I won't edit them onto a pride flag as I usually do because I feel uncomfortable putting a real person's face on them.

3. Can I submit my own characters?

Sorry, but no, unless your characters are like, published or something, if that makes sense? If you're the creator of like a webcomic, video game, or whatever, you can submit your character, but please indicate that you're the creator and what series they are from in case I need more info.

4. Someone has submitted a character from a problematic media.

I'm sorry! I try to do a little digging, but if I happened to miss something about a show/book/etc. being problematic, please let me know (and explain why it is) so I can take it down!

5. Someone has submitted a character as something that goes against their canon sexuality/gender.

What I mean by this is basically any kind of lesbian/bi/trans/ace/etc. erasure. If this happens, I'm sorry! Again, I try to do a bit digging, but if I happened to miss something, please let me know (and explain what they canonically are) so I can either edit the post or take it down!

6. Why haven't you posted my submission?

Sorry! There could be many reasons for this:

Tumblr being weird and losing it.

I couldn't find the character or media.

Your character was from problematic media.

Your submission was lesbophobic/biphobic/transphobic/aphobic/etc. or offensive for other reasons.

I was uncomfortable with your submission.

Your submission is currently queued but is going to take a bit to post.

Something else.

I do not have to give a reason for why I do not accept any particular submission.

7. Do you tag trigger warnings?

I try to! But if I miss something, let me know and I'll add it right away!

8. Is this blog sapphic run?

Yes!

9. Can I use your pride flag edits as a profile pic?

Sure!

10. How many times a day do you post?

Once a day, but not during weekends since I don't wanna run out of characters! But if I happen to get a bunch of submissions, I'll change that.

(I may update this in the future ^u^)

#sapphic #wlw #lesbian #bisexual women #pansexual women #otd #character of the day #headcanons #lgbt headcanons #lgbt hc #sapphic hc #sapphic headcanons #lesbian headcanons #lesbian hc #faq #rules and faq #bisexual headcanon #pansexual headcanon

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killerandhealerqueen · 4 months

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Tell us about your tagging system! What's the organization behind it, are there tags you follow up on etc

Oh, tagging system...I don't think I've ever answered a question about this before.

Honestly, there's not like a whole organization behind it...I honestly learned how to tag shit after being on tumblr for long periods of time.

Like, with my liveblogs, I saw how other people tagged their liveblogs so I decided to try it too and stuck with my usual system of "nickname watches genre of drama/movie (cdrama/kdrama/jdrama/cmovie/kmovie/jmovie" "name of drama" and then "genre of drama". When I liveblog, I usually just put my thoughts into the post, I don't really put them into the tags.

Now with my rewatches (and honestly, it's only just the one right now) I do my normal tagging system and then I add "name of drama rewatch" afterwards. If there are characters I'm specifically talking about in the post, I will make sure to put the character's name after "name of drama rewatch" and then add my own thoughts afterwards because I'm not taking away from what's going on in the scene, especially if it's like screenshots.

Same with fics! I watched how other people tagged their fics and then just followed suit. So at first it was "the-sassiest-trixster writes" (back when i had my old username) but then when all of my tags got wiped the first time, I decided to rebrand and just go with "sass writes". Short and simple. I also tag the post with the name of the fandom that I'm writing for and then whatever the fic is, like "mafia au" or "assassin au" or "case fic" etc. I will also include the characters and their ship name, just so that it's easy to find (hopefully but this is tumblr).

As for headcanons and asks, I'll tag it with "sass answers" and then "nickname of person who sent the ask + specific emoji" afterwards. For headcanons, I will then go on to tag the fandom the headcanon is for, the characters that are in the headcanon, the ship name, and sometimes i'll specify what kind of headcanon it is, like "5+1" or whatever au was requested.

My asks used to be "sass answers" and then "nickname of person who sent the ask edition" but when all of the tags got deleted again, I decided to revamp and do the "nickname of person who sent the ask + specific emoji" because I think it's cute.

If I'm talking about my writing i'll specifically use the tag "sass talks about her writing", if i'm ranting i'll use "sass rants", if i'm just rambling/talking i'll use "sass talks", and if I'm talking about /answering questions about forensics, I'll use "sass talks about forensics".

As for tags I follow...not really. I say you can tag me using "killerandhealerqueen" but I'm really bad about checking that tag to be quite honest. But honestly, just @ me, it's just faster and I enjoy getting notifications than remembering to check a tag. I do follow the tags like "killer and healer", "mao zi jun", "ian yi", "chen yuzhi", "jiang yuelou", "yaoyutong", and "恨君不似江楼月" but that's about it.

If I didn't answer something, just let me know! I love talking/answering asks!

send me asks

#sass answers #claw 🤔

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grumpygreenwitch · 1 month

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The Witches and Wizards Job 23-24-25

Advance warning, the wizard cuts a little bit loose here. Tagged for some fantasy violence.

I'm aware the links to the back chapters are borked up, but it's nearly midnight right now and I just finished uploading everything to the queue. I'll try to fix them between Thursday and Friday.

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TWENTY THREE

I think no one expected to get together that night and count nothing but wins. But no one was hurt and our knowledge of the situation had grown by leaps and bounds - at least, that was what Ford claimed.

"I'm not happy that you all have Dresden working on the side," he told the room, throwing me a quick look.

I put a hand up; I really didn't mind. I was still trying to digest the truth both Eliot and Hardison had offered me. I'd done my job, and I'd done it well, and with their help I'd done it so quick I was still trying to get used to the fact that both cases were done, had been done nearly as soon as they'd been picked up. But the technology Hardison had used just wasn't something I could ever, would ever, have permanent access to. On the other hand, my expertise, my knowledge, everything I knew about magic and the creatures of that world, was information to be found in no database, no internet search. It was maddening.

"But it's done, so we move on to the auction. Odds are both our targets, as well as the mark, are going to be there: the lady, the portrait and the man in black."

The last bit seemed to startle the night's guest, who'd been lounging sedately on a brand-new couch near mine while nursing a vodka neat. Ford had introduced him as the client. He'd introduced himself as Vanya Fedorov. His accent had introduced him as part of the Russian mafia. Mouse had lifted his head from the moment the man had walked into the loft, and he'd never once looked away. Between him and my dog, I was getting more than a little nervous.

"Nate, there's a problem with the auction," Hardison pointed out as he rejoined us around the coffee table with its sharpie'd circle and anti-tracking ward, as well as a few other newly added protections. He'd left his phone behind by the row of desks after sorting out the delivery of the selkie skins, and he gestured at me.

"Most of the people attending aren't human," I informed the room.

Fedorov's drink paused on the way to his mouth. "My uncle is a hard man," he said levelly. "But his first loyalty is to our business. He knows I am good for it. He would not betray me."

"I don't think he has," Sophie replied. "The bird-woman, the -"

"Alkonost," he supplied.

"She wasn't there to harm you. She was there to protect you."

I was still trying to wrap my head around the fact that this gorgeous woman had decided, on the fly, to bluff one of the most powerful creatures of Russian lore, and she'd stuck the landing. God but I could only hope Ford knew how lucky he was.

"We were immune thanks to Harry," Sophie pointed out, "but you weren't affected at all. She did come looking for you, but to keep you safe."

"Safe from what?" he demanded restlessly.

"The man in black?" Eliot suggested.

"He doesn't want Fedorov hurt." Ford said mildly. I was beginning to recognize that tone as a warning signal. "He very nearly derailed one plan already for you," he told the Russian.

"For me?"

"The museum!" Parker exclaimed in sudden realization.

Nate nodded, then looked at Fedorov. "You made plans to go visit the Sokolov collection. Made them in advance. I had a look at your electronic ledger. You did have plans - for the day after, the last day of the exhibition."

"I did," the Russian admitted readily.

"You changed those plans when someone told you we were there."

Fedorov grinned ruefully. "I thought to press my case and enjoy Sokolov's work. Two birds with one stone. It seemed efficient at the time."

Nate nodded thoughtfully. "See, I was wondering about that. Because our presence there wasn't really important enough to merit derailing anyone's plans. It was you. When he came up to the room, it was to make sure you were there and he had to cancel the plan. You weren't supposed to be there that day."

"But then he did come up, and saw Grandmother," Sophie pointed out. "And getting her was worth more than protecting you."

"Mm," Nate nodded. "It was a rush job; the sort of rush job that happens when someone first says 'go', then 'stop', then 'go' again, and tempers are getting frayed, the timeline is off, everything just this much out of whack…" He waved a hand at us all. "You know the sort."

I did know the sort; I couldn't help but be amused that, from the look on their faces, so did the rest of the Leverage team.

"Explains why the guy was still there fiddling with the system when I got there," Eliot muttered. "He was waiting to put the Witchwell back in place. That's why the nitrogen tank was attached, but still closed."

"How do you know all this?" Fedorov demanded.

"The cameras," Ford replied. "Our… consultant pointed out that it's only the presence of beings like the man in black that blows up technology, and Hardison has created a number of failsafes so we can tell when a screen is about to fail. Turns out you can track someone by their absence nearly as much as by their presence."

The Russian took all of this in slowly, carefully, and finally frowned minutely. "I don't think I care for the Blackbird's interest in me. Or my family. Or my business."

Ford said nothing, but I could see in his face that he was holding back. I risked a glance at the other deadly intelligence in the room. Sophie was looking at the mastermind very closely. She caught my eyes and shook her head tinily.

I said nothing. I had just noticed that, behind Sophie, Parker was frowning, staring at nothing. Apparently Ford was contagious.

"I think your uncle's loyalties are a matter between you and him. For what it's worth, I believe he honestly thinks meeting with these people will help you take over from your father."

"By binding the family to these creatures." Fedorov scoffed. "What do they know of the family business?"

I didn't need to see the look Ford shot me to recognize a cue when I heard one. I picked up the printed photographs next to me on the couch and started handing them out one by one. "The lovely lady in white? Fey. Specializes in erasing evidence. The man next to her in red? Also fey. Specializes in erasing memories." Another picture. "Fat toad-looking man? He's actually a toad. His people love toxic waste. If someone gets a contract with them, they'll never see another fine for dumping again. The gorgeous thing next to him might be the deadliest we've identified so far. She's from Bangkok. Jade Court. Vampire. Human trafficking. This one? I'm not sure, but gosh, things sure do seem to catch on fire whenever he's around, mostly out at sea. Mostly when they're well-insured."

Between Hardison and me, while the 3D printer churned away and I stuck mirror-masks to everything it was spitting out, we'd sifted through enough information to identify thirteen of the twenty four people who we knew were going to the auction. It had been risky, using Koschei's invite to create a resonance spell that would let me find where the other invites were, but God it had paid off so well. We'd done weeks, maybe months of footwork in one long afternoon and half an evening.

It was enough to impress Fedorov - and to worry him. "No. I will not deal with these creatures. They are no better than the Blackbird, and if he's involved then each of them is a trap."

"I'm not telling you this to impress you," I corrected him. "I'm telling you to warn you. They might wanna make it look like you have no choice but to agree with whatever they say. You need to be prepared."

Fedorov took the stack of printouts and stared sightlessly at them. He looked oddly familiar at that moment, as if a touch of deja vu had come at me out of nowhere; he looked like something out of antiquity, like one of the paintings I'd seen in Hardison's screens while he studied Sokolov's work. "Can they die?" he asked.

Ooops, nope, we were back in mafia mentality. "Depends what you shoot them with. And in some cases, where."

"Then I believe you and I should speak, wizard." He shook his head and gestured impatiently. "He just stole the damn portrait. Why is he turning around and selling it already?"

"Because after the auction he won't need it anymore. Or at least that's what he thought, until he met Parker and she stole his key, and all of those." He waved a hand idly at the table's worth of knick-knacks. "So between now and the end of the auction he has to get that key back. You," Nate told Fedorov, "are going to trade it for the portrait. Make sure to tell them that when you RSVP."

"You are sending me into a den of monsters alone, Ford," Fedorov gritted out. "If you want me dead have the decency of doing it yourself."

"Not alone, no. You're bringing Sophie with you. If Dresden can get the tracker off of the other invitation we have, we'll even send Eliot in with you. And we will all be nearby to provide support. We don't want another 'situation', Fedorov, no one wants that."

Fedorov eyed Eliot, who shrugged calmly. He eyed Sophie, who smiled at him. "No offense," he told Eliot, "but I will feel safer with her."

Eliot beamed at the man. "None taken."

I had to agree with both of them, honestly.

"What about Grandmother?"

"She'll be there," Ford assured him. It was the only part of the plan I didn't like, because Ford had no explanation, no reason as to why he believed Baba Yaga would show up at the auction when Koschei was sure to be there. Last I'd checked, and from all Bob had taught me, those two were not on speaking terms, and got along about as well as fire and gasoline.

Fedorov looked thoughtful. "Wizard."

Oh, I did not like where this was going. "Uh."

"Since you are taking jobs on the side, will you take one more?"

"Uh." I looked at Ford, but he said nothing. He was giving me a keen, level look. I liked that even less. "That depends on the job."

Fedorov grinned at me. "He has tried too many times to harm Grandmother. Perhaps to kill her outright. I don't know if this is possible, if he can do this thing. I know he's trying, and I do not like it. I will pay whatever you ask, wizard. If you're there and do your best to protect her."

I felt as if the silence in the room were crushing me. "You want me to protect Baba Yaga."

"You are what I have."

"This is Baba Yaga. Grandmother Winter. Close to a living god as it gets. Not to mention I've already met the Blackbird. He won both times, in case you weren't listening."

"Did he? You walked away and he did not follow. Twice. The way I see it, you won the only victory that matters."

I wanted to scream. To walk away. I would have laughed in Fedorov's face but the truth was, I was scared. He was asking me to stand between what I saw as an unstoppable force and an immovable object. However, and I hated that he was right, but he uh. He was right. I'd stood up to Koschei twice, and I'd walked away both times. Either the man sucked at killing people, and I knew that wasn't true, or I was doing something right. I just didn't know what.

I felt as trapped as Fedorov did, but I could also see his reasoning. Koschei was an asshole. An unparalleled one. No one disagreed on that. But Baba Yaga, even if she was mercurial, alien, inhuman, still cared about the land and the people in a way her pupil didn't. If there was a line on the sand, I knew which side I was on. "I'll do what I can," I couldn't make the words come out civil, but at least I could make them come out.

Fedorov nodded at me. "In that case," he grinned minutely, leaned forward and picked up one of the chicken bones and the little carved wooden cup from among the many knick-knacks on the table and dropped the one inside the other. The bone let out a little rattle. "Let me tell you a fairy tale about Koschei and Grandmother."

TWENTY FOUR

The leshy came back that night, and they brought friends once again.

I was dead asleep in spite of every thought and worry wrecking chaos in my mind. I was worried, and I was pretty sure I had a right to be. We were about to throw a bluff in the face of some of the deadliest, smartest monsters ever to come out of the Nevernever, Leverage also wanted to steal from them at the same time. There was just so much going on that I'd given up trying to keep track of it all, and resigned myself to doing my part of it and never figuring out what, other that stealing, these people did.

Mouse's low growl woke me up as if someone had punched me. He'd been asleep at the foot of the bed, which was big enough for five of me or two of him, and when he stood up I could see his ruff standing up on end, outlined against the faint light coming in through the window. I sat up just in time to hear a muffled yowl of pain, and the creak of the door swinging open.

They'd found me. Of everything we'd picked up, all the trinkets, all the traps, I was still the easiest source of magic to find. I just hadn't known if they'd be willing to gamble that Koschei's stuff would be with me and not in a vault somewhere, or with the Leverage people.

The house had no lintel to speak of, no doorway. It was a safehouse, a fancy storage unit where I'd spent two nights. I'm sure the leshy had expected some trouble getting through the door, but I already knew they had humans in the roster, and humans could pick a lock or break a window, slip inside and invite the leshy in. There wasn't enough of a presence in the house, mine or otherwise, to kick up a passive defense out of habitation alone.

Which was why Eliot had lined every doorway and windowsill with iron nails.

Another muffled yowl and I was quietly on my feet, reaching for my shirt and my duster. There were a few traps between the leshy and what they sought, but once again I was counting mainly on them not being able to use magic to find the stuff. I drew a deep breath, stepped back from the bed, called Mouse to me, and flicked a throw blanket on the bed.

I'm not good at Veils. I know people who can hide entire stadiums worth of people, sight, sound, scent, every sense. Me, I was counting on it being dark so that when the leshy came up, as they must, it would look like I was still asleep on the bed. It didn't make sense for them to risk waking me up while they tore the place apart, which they'd likely do. Not to mention they could always ask me where everything was, and provide all sorts of incentives for me to tell them.

I managed to get my sneakers on before I heard the stairwell creak minutely. I fell back into the shadows of the closet, Mouse by my side, staff on one hand and wand on the other, and waited.

The door to my bedroom opened very slowly. The same dim, reflected streetlight glow that had shone on Mouse showed me the paw-like hand of a leshy as it stepped forward, sniffing the still air in the room. Its eyes locked onto the bed and it moved forward with a little more confidence. It cleared the door and another one came in behind it. They moved to flank the bed. A third one came in.

The moment it was clear of the door I surged forward, slammed the door shut, and pointed my staff at it. "Forzare."

It might have come out a little angry. I was getting real tired of leshy, to be fair. The blast of force threw the leshy through the window in a shower of glass and wood; it screamed as it went, the iron nails on the windowsill scraping it raw.

Mouse flew at another leshy with a snarl. Its nature betrayed it; not only was my dog very big and fairly terrifying despite his youth, leshy were creatures of the field, their nature very close to rabbits, to hares, to moles. It shrieked in immediate terror and went down, scrabbling and writhing, all the fight gone from it, wanting only to get away from its natural predator.

The last one didn't stop to think. It leapt up and kicked me in the chest. I went through the bedroom door like the old oak wasn't even there. The pain was immediate, immense, blinding. Next thing I knew I was on my knees out on the hallway, and I couldn't breathe. I'd be lucky if nothing was broken. Leshy kick like the hares they look like, and the fairy-thug's reaction had been so quick I'd had no time to summon my shield.

Mouse was barking furiously in the bedroom; I couldn't get wits or breath enough to get back on my feet, but I had just enough of them to see motion coming up the stairs. I swung my wand around and let a stream of fire blaze out. The figure in front shrilled inhumanly; behind it, someone cursed entirely too humanly.

I had to get up. I had to move. I was easy prey if I didn't. I got one leg under me just in time for one panicked leshy to come sprinting out of my bedroom, and we both went down in a tangle. It tried to bite my face, and I just barely put an arm up. Its teeth caught it, but couldn't quite punch through the duster's defenses. It didn't feel like roses, though, and someone let out a very undignified howl of pain. Couldn't have been me.

I'd lost my wand when we'd gone down, and I didn't have enough room to bring my staff to bear, so I let go of it, put my free hand on the leshy's face, and let go with all the electricity I'd collected the past day. I didn't have the breath to call it - the words aren't part of the magic as much as an exercise in focus, a visualization aid. I could throw everything around without them, but I'd been using the word to try not to get zapped myself. It was a sacrifice I was willing to make.

Electric fire lit up the leshy's skull from within, made its ears stand up on end; it rolled down my hand and up my arm, but I was far more interested in the fairy-thug not getting another bite in. Fortunately, it crashed down limp on top of me, smoking faintly.

I shoved it aside and groped around for my staff. The hairs on the back of my neck stood on end and I threw my shield up instinctively.

A net crashed over it and came to rest on the gleaming half-bubble, and I was in trouble. The net had magic, unknown magic, probably meant to counter mine. I couldn't let go of the shield without getting caught in the net. I couldn't do magic without dropping the shield. The hallway was narrow, and they couldn't get to me any more than I could get to them, but that left them free to tear my house apart.

Which was apparently the going plan. The leshy I'd singed on the stairwell called out something to the human behind it, who shouted in Russian down the stairs. I heard the door to one of the rooms slam open, and a crowbar start work on the crates.

I forced myself to draw a deep breath. Mouse was still engaged with the last fairy-thug in the bedroom. My ribs were still screaming. My lungs had mostly forgotten how to work. But I needed that breath, I needed the focus of it.

At the peak of it, I dropped to a crouch, dropped the shield and called out, "Ventus!" more or less at the same time.

Have I mentioned I'm a hammer when it comes to magic?

Wind roared out, coming out of me in every direction. It threw the net for parts unknown, it sent the people on the stairwell flying back, stumbling down the steps with startled squawks and something that sounded very much like cursing. I wouldn't know, I don't speak Russian. I found my wand under my foot, lifted my staff and for good measure threw a second gout of wind down the stairwell. "Mouse!"

He came charging out of the room. I peeked in. The leshy was crawling away for the gaping hole in the wall that had been a window, both legs a ruin of greenish blood. I closed what was left of the door between it and us and began to inch my way down the stairs.

There was a hissed, angry argument going on at the bottom of the stairs, probably wondering if I was worth the trouble. Oh, I was not. So many people could've told the thugs, I'm very much not worth the trouble. I'm a burr, and at that point I was an angry burr, and to compound their misery I was an angry burr that could do magic.

Someone shouted a warning in the dark of the first floor. I threw my shield up.

Three bullets bounced off it, along with a shower of sparks. Oh, ok. Uh. I hadn't expected them to decide I was that kind of trouble. Hell's Bells. Boston had powered up my shield, but I'd apparently finally hit on the limit of what the damaged bracelet could do. If it hadn't been made to hold back more mundane threats as well as magic, I would have been very much in trouble.

I could see, vaguely, four of them gathered in what was supposed to be the living room. I was pretty sure there was at least one more crashing and wrecking one of the rooms. I saw one of them grab and yank at another, and some tiny part of me was glad to know the leshy themselves didn't want me shot, but that didn't mean one of their number, likely one of their human buddies, didn't have a gun he was entirely too willing to use. I had to finish this quick, before someone else got trigger-happy.

I dropped the shield. Mouse leapt the moment it was gone, with a snarl like a roar. I love my dog. I know my dog. At that moment I was absolutely terrified of my dog.

So were the thugs. I slammed the butt of my staff on the ground before any of them could get any ideas. "Forzare!" The shockwave sent two of them tumbling - the humans. The leshy tottered, but managed to stay upright. One of them immediately went down with a panicked screech when Mouse slammed into it.

The other twisted one hand sharply and threw something at me that glittered in the dark. I threw my shield up automatically.

The night's breath powder settled on it and began to burn.

I heard a howl, realized belatedly that it was mine; my shield-bracelet had gone instantly white-hot while it tried to defend against the very thing that was attacking it. I dropped the shield, felt the poison sink into my magic. The leshy charged me, as aware as I was that I couldn't throw magic around wildly anymore; I could very well run out of energy mid-fight.

So I swung the staff at it as hard as I could.

The impact drove it into the wall and it staggered back, dazed. I stepped into its space and punched it. Hey, it worked for Eliot. It went down on its knees with a cry.

But the two human thugs were getting up, and one was lifting his arm in a familiar fashion. I couldn't gamble, I called up my shield, gritting my teeth against the pain. The goon slammed the taser into it, electricity arcing from it over the roiling surface of the half-bubble.

I put my hand out, the one with the wire bracelet, dropped the shield and called the electricity to me. It burned down my already singed fingers, and into the bracelet, and I threw it at the other man before he could get it into his head to start shooting again. He made a sound like a broken police siren and crashed down, twitching.

I'd been keeping my eye on the group in front of me and that open bedroom door, but in the middle of the chaos I forgot that leshy are like roaches: there's always more than the ones you see. Something came at me from the kitchen and hit the back of my head. It wasn't even painful; it was just instantaneous darkness; everything shut down. My cheek hit the floor, but I didn't feel it so much as vaguely registered that my perspective on things had changed radically. I heard Mouse snarl, and someone screamed - the natural order of things.

Things went blurry and uncertain for a while. I heard the group talking, and Mouse barking furiously, but I was only aware of it because it was Mouse, and I was worried that they'd hurt him. The night's breath had settled on me like the weight of the world, burning, hissing in a way only I could hear. I felt crushed. I couldn't breathe. My magic felt sluggish and foul, like blood poisoning.

"It's not just the circle, he's got a ward of some sort around them," a man's voice said in English. Someone else spoke in Russian. I was beginning to understand Hardison's comment about learning a language by infection.

"Koldun", a hoarse, gravelly voice said. Something grabbed my face and picked me partially up, talons prickling my cheeks. "Wizard," the leshy said in terrible English. "You hear me?"

"I thought leshy didn't speak." I was trying to get myself in the game, but the night's breath was burning into my bones, my ribs hurt like someone had kicked them out of my chest, and my head was pounding.

The leshy growled - its way of laughing, I realized. It said something to one of the people around. We were in my basement. There were glow-sticks all over, illuminating my work: the brass circle on the concrete floor, closed and holding strong around a small shoebox full of Koschei's knick-knacks. Inside the circle were two more wards: the tracking foil I'd copied from the key, and a little bubble of force, very much like my shield, meant to keep things and people from this side of the Nevernever from getting through.

See, I could learn. I'd remembered that the leshy had been working with humans back at the museum, and I'd been ready.

"He says, 'the world changed, we changed with it'." It was the man who'd shouted a warning earlier, likely the one who'd shot at me. He was wearing all black, the better to be impossible to distinguish from the rest of the group. The leshy growled something at him. "You will dismiss the circle and remove the rest of your protections."

I gritted my teeth. Those talons were like shoe cleats, sharp and solid, and the fairy's grip was incredibly strong. They'd stripped me down to my pants and tee, and I was pretty sure they'd taken off anything that wasn't nailed down. I couldn't even feel the familiar weight of my pendant around my neck. My arms were bound behind me and my shoulder was really unhappy about that. They'd even taken my shoes off. "Bite me."

The leshy growled again and it occurred to me that it probably wasn't a good idea to invite him to do that. It said something a little longer this time. I was trying to figure out if I could use their ignorance to my advantage: the outermost circle was just that, a circle. Any of their human buddies could have made it past it. But because the leshy knew magical circles to be impregnable, they apparently hadn't thought to have the humans try.

"You will dismiss the circle," the translator said. "Or we will shoot your dog."

My lunge was instinctive. And pointless. The leshy stopped me before I could get an inch closer and slammed me back against a wall. It was just hard enough to be painful, but not enough to knock me out again. He even gave me a few minutes to find the wits he'd just send scattering all over with that casual bit of controlled violence.

"I drop the circle, you shoot us both."

The translator spoke. The leshy examined me, head cocked, golden eyes throwing an occasional red gleam when the light hit them just right. He said something long-ish.

"He considered it," the man translated. "But is not worth a death-curse, and you obviously love dog. What assurance can he provide?"

"Lock my dog up in the bathroom. Everyone else waits outside. I'll break the circle for him, and him alone."

"Nyet." The leshy wasn't stupid, though I'd hoped. He spoke at length, the translator asking a couple of questions.

"The dog stays in the net, goes in the bathroom. Three of us stay here. You drop the circle, remove the wards. We take you to the bathroom with your dog. You do not follow."

"I get your gun, you keep the bullets," I added.

That created a brief argument between the man and the leshy, but the translator caved eventually. Not that I didn't think they had a dozen other ways to kill me and Mouse, but the gun was the quickest one.

"And I'll need my hands free."

The leshy didn't wait for the translator. "Use feet."

"Fine."

He dragged me to my feet. Off to one side I could see Mouse, all but wrapped into a net, bound up inside a blanket that had been secured with duct tape. Ah, the net hadn't been for me, it'd been meant for him all along. He snarled, but didn't bark, probably out of pity for my throbbing skull. In the basement the sound would have echoed like thunder. Two humans picked him up warily, and while he tried to snap at them, he couldn't do more than twitch and drool. All but two leshy and the translator followed them out of the basement.

The translator pulled out the gun, removed the clip and the loaded bullet, and I twisted so he could give it to me. He didn't look happy. I made a show of muttering under my breath and calling up some magic. The effort bent me over double and I nearly felt my legs go to jelly. Bile rose up in my throat, and the lead leshy had to hold me up. I had to make it look like I was doing something, though, otherwise the leshy would catch onto my bluff about the circle.

But Boston, ah, Boston. The night's breath couldn't corrode what the city was giving me fast enough. If I could just get away, purge all of the corroded magic, I'd be fine. As it was, I had the power to throw a punch, I just had no way of knowing if it was going to blow up in my face or theirs.

I took a couple of deep breaths, tried again, and scuffed my foot over the circle and the two wards beyond it. And very calmly said, "Ignitum".

The circle broke. The lead leshy gestured the other two forward. The shoebox was plain, empty of anything but the rough dozen or so things Parker and I had got from Koschei. Everything was there, even the feathers and the invitation.

Except for two things.

The leshy grabbed me by the throat. "Key, koldun." He snapped at the translator.

"You are missing things. Where are they?"

"I only agreed to break the circle. It's not my fault if you didn't check your shopping before you paid the bill."

The leshy didn't like that. It slammed me against a wall and snarled. The translator opened its mouth -

The other leshy, who'd managed to grab the box, squealed in pain when something hot dripped down on it, then shrieked, clawing at its shoulder as a sizzling sound and the smell of burning fields began to fill the room. One of the ceiling tiles crashed down.

Everyone looked up. I just grinned at them.

Eliot had set up the trap for me, and he'd honestly had a blast doing so. The basement was bare concrete in every direction; to hide the fact that he was putting iron everywhere he could reach, he'd put up styrofoam ceiling tiles. He'd glued them to the concrete.

He'd laced the glue with iron filings.

Throwing a magical punch? Fifty-fifty. Melting fresh silicone that wasn't even hard yet? Child's play.

The lead leshy barked an order. The translator started for me. While they were both distracted I balanced myself on one foot, lifted the other, and kicked the leshy as hard as I could in the gut. He went sprawling back and crashed down on the floor. I snapped out the word of command. The circle snapped into life and cut him in half.

I dropped to my knees, most of my focus on not throwing up. The rest I channeled into forcing all the corroded magic the night's breath had poisoned out of me. I didn't even bother giving it shape, I just threw it out. It flattened the last two thugs and sent me crashing down on my face, even as I tried to force myself to get up, get to the box, I couldn't let them have the box -

More melted silicone dripped down. The last leshy squalled something that didn't sound nice, and the one human cursed. He came at me, trying to take his gun back. I drew in a deep breath and threw what little clean power Boston had given me in his face as a flash of light. He staggered back, blinded, swearing.

His buddy caught him and they both ran out of the basement, and I was left there, breathing hard, wondering if I should pass out. Or throw up. Or both, maybe. Somewhere above me Mouse was barking fit to bring the house down.

Passing out it was.

TWENTY FIVE

The gunshots woke up the neighbors. The neighbors woke up the cops, who expected to be summoned to such an address to bar brawls or petty theft, not to shots fired in a staid, elderly Boston neighborhood.

The gunshots also roused Nate. He came sprinting down the block to find half a dozen people peering out nervously, each one demonstrating vividly what they considered a safe distance, and none of them agreeing. The mastermind, who knew exactly how far a bullet could travel on kinetic energy alone, never mind inertia, didn't want to think of what would happen if there were more shots. He began taking stock of the problem by waving his phone at three of the people on the street. "Did someone, uh, did someone call the cops?" When the neighbors confirmed, he let out a long breath. "Good, good. Hey, those weren't gunshots, were they?" he asked as he dialed. "Hardison."

The Leverage team roused like a nest of wasps. A Crime Scene van and a two-man team nearly beat the cops to the site; the truck from Animal Control rolled in with them, and the one man joined the two masked people at the door, the cops making a path for them. All three of them winced as they walked in, pausing to yank their earbuds off.

"He's here," Eliot confirmed to the other two as they lit their flashlights, everyone taking a moment to hold their breath and see if they held - which they miraculously did. "You go ahead with the distraction, I'll find him." They had to find Dresden, get him out of the line of fire, and set up something appropriately gunshot-like but wholly accidental before the cops started looking in earnest. At the moment they weren't setting foot in the house, but Leverage could only guess as to why, rather than confirm.

"I need three minutes in the kitchen," Hardison said from behind Parker.

"I need two in his bedroom."

"I think we can buy you that," Eliot assured them.

"We?"

Despite the worry gnawing at him that the wizard had gone and gotten hurt (again), Eliot could only smile faintly. He whet his lips and whistled lightly.

From somewhere in the dark Mouse started barking immediately in response, a sound like thunder. Nate and Sophie, part of the crowd outside, saw every cop wince and twitch away. None of them went for their guns; none of them looked willing to go into the house. The crowd shifted restlessly, and stepped back without being urged to it. They crossed a look, but said nothing.

Parker threw a clean suit and a mask at Eliot and they split up. Alone in the dark, Eliot launched himself to the guest bathroom, just to one side of the stairs. "Harry!" When he got no answer he tried again, just a little louder. "Dresden!" No answer. He sniffed; there was a faint, familiar scent in the air that he couldn't readily place, but which left his gut tightening in anticipation of a punch he couldn't see coming. That, however was immediately set aside when he opened the bathroom door and found Mouse trussed up like a Bolivian hostage. "There you are."

Tied up or not, the Temple dog wagged his tail at him. Eliot started sawing on the duct tape, then paused; there was something sticky on either the ropes of the net or the blanket. Or the dog. Eliot considered shining the light on it, then decided he was better off not knowing. "We need to be quiet," he told Mouse, who whuffed nearly soundlessly at him. "And we need to find Harry, fast."

The moment he was loose, the mastiff sprang up on his feet and charged out of the bathroom. Eliot followed him down the stairs to, where else, the basement. The air was hot and full of the scent of burning plastic. Styrofoam tiles had fallen and shattered, leaving the tidy space a wreck. Eliot smelled rotten candy and recoiled. "Mouse, don't!"

The dog froze, and stepped back, whining.

Eliot knew that smell. He'd only smelled it once before, but sometimes that was all it took. He'd smelled it again, faintly, by the stairs. Rotten candy. Burning licorice. The basement cloyed his senses with it. Someone had come in prepared to take down both wizard and dog, and the hitter gritted his teeth. "Night's breath," he murmured, looked down at the dog. Moused looked up at him, ears perked. "You gonna be alright in there?"

Mouse eased himself gingerly into the basement. Paused. Whuffled.

Eliot followed. "Harry?"

A groan answered him, and he charged in. His boots squished on something very much not blood, but he didn't stop to check what it was. "Harry!"

"I'm gonna be sick," the wizard moaned. Eliot found him slumped in a heap against one side of the basement, tied up very efficiently, looking ashen under the light of the flashlight, Mouse licking his face enthusiastically.

"Place reeks of night's breath, man."

"That was me," Dresden admitted as Eliot worked to free him. "Someone dosed me upstairs. Burned it off here." He let out a vague sound of pain when his hands came loose and he started working feeling into them immediately. "They took the box."

"Who's surprised," Eliot grimaced when he nearly lost his grip on his knife sawing at the ropes around Harry's feet. "What… Why is everything slimy down here?"

"That was me, too," the wizard admitted. "I killed one of the leshy. Things from the Nevernever kinda melt when they die."

"They m- You mean- " Eliot found himself suddenly realizing he was, apparently, wading knee-deep through someone's equivalent of bodily fluids. "You mean we're covered in fairy blood?"

"Blood, guts…" Harry waved a hand to encompass a nebulous whole.

Full of violence as his life was, Eliot definitely had feelings about the situation, and none of them were good. "Damn it, Dresden!" he snapped as he helped the wizard to his feet and dragged him up the stairs.

"It'll evaporate to nothing soon!"

"And what part of 'don't get hurt' didn't you get?"

"You also said 'make it believable'," Harry protested wearily. "And they had humans with them. Again. And the humans had guns so. You know. The night's just been full of surprises."

Eliot hissed a breath out. Of course they would. "Alright. Get dressed." He thrust the clean suit and the mask at Harry. "We're going out the front door."

"Out the - They're gonna notice there's more people going out than came in."

Parker choose that moment to pop up next to them, making them both jump. "I'm not going out the front door." She had Harry's duster on, which made her look even more elfin than she already was, and looked terribly pleased with herself. "I found everything. They had it all stashed together. Amateurs."

Eliot merely imagined strangling the thief. Only a little. Just to soothe his rising temper. "They weren't thieves, Parker." When she gave him a pointed look the hitter realized what he'd said. "Ok, yes, they were thieves, but they weren't here to rob Harry!" Her brows went up. "You know what I mean! Is Hardison done?"

"I'll go check." She turned to look at Harry, and frowned minutely. "Are you hurt?"

"If I answer that, Eliot will get mad at me," he told her as he zipped up the clean suit.

To the hitter's chagrin, she took in that answer solemnly, nodded, and raced off for the kitchen.

"You are hurt," Eliot accused mildly.

"Leshy like to kick."

"Is anything broken?"

"No." Dresden breathed in, deep and very slow. "I don't think so. I'll get back to you on the concussion, though."

"You have a helluva sense of humor for someone I just found hogtied in his own basement."

Eliot saw the wizard grin, hard and bitter. "Eliot, I'm used to going down. I'm also used to waking up in a cell of one kind or another after." He popped the medical mask in place and put up the hood. "This is a distinct improvement."

The hitter had to pause at that. "Harry, don't you have anyone? Anyone that has your back?"

The wizard paused, went very still. "People… don't do so good when they get involved in a wizard's affairs," he admitted slowly, and the burden of pain and guilt and regret in his voice brought Eliot up very short. It had been years since he'd heard such a refined, complex mix of exactly those emotions from someone, but he remembered the day well enough.

He'd been staring in a mirror at the time, and he'd been horribly young.

"And not a lot of people accept that 'men in gray and big swords' trump a lot of the answers they sometimes want out of me."

The hitter caught the wizard's good shoulder. "Harry, for what it's worth," he said evenly. "I know it's hard. I know how it is when you've drawn a line on the sand and no one sees you holding it. Me, I'm here to keep my team safe. Twice, so far, I wasn't there - but you were. And that's enough for me. Thank you."

Dresden blew out a long breath. "Don't suppose you guys want to move to Chicago?"

"No more than you wanna move to Boston." Eliot looked up to see Hardison coming out of the kitchen, passing his backpack to Parker and taking hers in exchange. "Come on. The timing Hardison cooked up is tricky."

They marched out, the Animal Control guy first, leading the friendliest, most gigantic and slobberiest ball of fur out, leaving all the cops vaguely embarrassed that they'd been afraid to step into the house. Mouse hammed it up, tongue lolling to one side and tail wagging cheerfully. The crime scene people cleared out, the cops poured in, and everyone jumped into their respective vehicles.

It took a while to put both the Animal Control pick-up and the Crime Scene van back in place, none the worse for their small adventure, and everyone reconvened back at the loft. Sophie reported that there had been plenty of cops in the kitchen when the same security system that had destroyed the bedroom window interacted badly with an ancient electric board, entombed in the walls. The system had blown the garden door out onto the overgrown grass, and the antique board had gone off like a gun once again. A report had been written; fines would have to be paid. The owner had been summoned, and she'd been most grateful for everyone's prompt response, gracious and elegant even in her concern. Everyone had gone home somewhat disappointed and secretly reassured that life could go back to what it should be: quiet.

While Sophie soothed the mood at the safehouse, Nate came to see Dresden as Eliot, once again, patched up the wizard in the small spare bedroom behind the kitchen. Harry's entire chest was a rising, ugly bruise. When Eliot moved away to wash his hands, he spoke very quietly to the mastermind. "You know, when I said I'd like a job where I wasn't a punching bag, this wasn't what I meant."

"I know." Nate's mouth was pressed to a thin line. It wasn't just the injuries, or the attack. Violence threatened them all, that was just part of the job. But the violence that kept coming at Dresden was unpredictable and far too big for any countermeasures to readily work. "He's getting more hurt than you have in our worst jobs," he murmured quietly at the hitter.

"He's a civilian, Nate."

"So are you," the mastermind pointed out. "But I know what you mean."

"He doesn't have the training, he doesn't have the mental firewalls."

"Can you teach him?"

"In what, two days?!"

Nate gave the hitter a very keen, very level look. "I think he'd be grateful, and better off, with whatever you do give him." He pitched his voice to carry. "Dresden, what did they get?"

"Everything," Harry replied, testing his arm until Eliot flung a sling at him. "Everything but the key and the Witchwell."

"Mm. But he doesn't need those two back nearly as urgently as everything else. Not once Fedorov's offer gets to him. And he already has the portrait, he doesn't need help stealing it."

"He does if the Witchwell's not his and he needs to return it to the proper owner," the wizard pointed out, frowning thoughtfully.

"Does he?"

"He might. I'm guessing," Harry admitted, "but I don't think it's his. It's too modern, it doesn't fit what we know of the guy."

"I agree with Harry," Eliot added.

"So do I," Nate replied. "His reaction at the bagel shop was very telling. But the man in black has to know we can't destroy it, and he has to know it'd be much easier for him to recover it after the auction." He seemed momentarily lost in thought. He was wondering if Koschei would think of the many ways in which the Witchwell could be turned against him; if that potential danger would force him to divert attention and effort to its recovery.

And in three days' time, I will grant you and your people your heart's desire.

"He'll wait. He'll wait until he can simply take it back."

"He could take it back right now," Harry muttered.

"Could he? That's twice you've faced his hired thugs, and twice you've survived, Dresden. Twice you've almost won, until an external factor stepped in. Have a little faith in yourself. From his side, his odds don't look good."

Eliot understood. "He doesn't gamble. When he wins, he likes it to be by overwhelming force."

The mastermind nodded. "And every time Dresden steps in, it doesn't matter what the man in black throws on the field, it never ends up with a clean victory for him. He'll wait. We go on with the con. Get some rest, Dresden. You're no use as a monkeywrench if you're in pieces."

"I live to please, boss," the wizard declared wearily.

#the dresden files #leverage #my writing #fanfiction #crossover #harry dresden #alec hardison #nathan ford #parker #sophie deveraux #eliot spencer #urban fantasy #fantasy violence

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foggypeacestrawberry · 29 days

Text

The 10-Things-Challange

(Sims 3 only)

Hi y'all !,

a few days ago I startet a little "Challange" for myself:

To Create a room in Sims 3, by combining random things I find within the Sims-Community. So I will download the first 10 things that I see on this day, if I like them, or at least don´t dislike them, and put them together with 5 other things that I can choose freely.

The goal is, to create with just 15 objects a room that makes some kind of sense. For example it can represent a certain style, or a theme, or an idea, or even tell a little story, whatever comes to my mind.

Turns out, this is so much FUN!, to put stuff together that I normaly never would consider to combine :-) !

So I don´t know if someone had this idea before already, it happened while I was sorting CC-files, and this element of coincidence was so appealing to me, that I decided to give it a try.

Now I want to show you my first outcoming, and how I decided which objects to choose, or how the objects chose me; and what rules could be useful or not.

First I visited TSR, to see what's new there. The newest entry was:

1) Emporia Livinigroom-Set, from ArtVitalex

So that are 7 objects already - meaning I have to leave this site now (?) .

--> Working on the rules:

Would be much to easy if most ot the 10 objects would come from the same set, but I think 3-4 objects from one set will be OK.

And I wonder if I should leave a source after finding the first "thing", or if its OK to stay on the site, and just go back in the timeline to the next entry of another creator? I guess it depends on how often I will do this challange - 3 times a week, 3 times a month...

BACK TO THE CC -

Then I went to tumblr and chose the first of my sims3-tags that are CC-related, it was #s3ccfinds (some of the first entrys were reblogs from wandering sim).

I skip all CAS-Stuff, just looking for objects to put in a room.

I counted until I had "10 things" = single objects:

2) My Wedding Stories Trees, Set with 5 objects, from @bioniczombie

3) Venyl-Collection, 1 object, from @johziii

4) Tombstones, 2 objects, from @lolabellesims

5) Some Weird Posters, 1 object, from @wanderingsimsfinds

6) Out In The Yard, Set with 4 objects, from @Itssimplythesims

So this time the 10 objects will be from 6 diferent creators.

Plus the 5 "wild objects" I can chose freely.

--> Some more specifics about the rules:

For example them posters from wanderingsim, thats 1 object, but its a huge collection of 33 posters = items. In a case like that, I might use 3-4 different looking items, I treat this object like a set.

The Screenshots I put in a new blogpost.

During this first challenge, I changed some stuff I a bit, that shows in the pics: added windows; changed styles; changed postition of the poster + sofa.

I will lead you through the scenery pic-by-pic, counting the objects up to 15.

#sims 3 challenge #ts3 challenge #the sims 3 challenge #the sims 3 cc #ts3 cc #sims 3 cc #s3cc #I´m not sure if this tags are ok!

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mangonatural · 8 months

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Rules: Make a 24 hour poll with the names of your WIPs, let it run, then work for 10 minutes for every vote the winner receives.

Thank you for the tag, @angelcasendgame!!!!! I am not sure I will be able to work on anything very soon just because life came after me again, and turns out I'm gonna be moving over the next month or so, but I really do hope I can find time!!

None of these have names yet lol. I put the SPN ones first, but technically I've been trying to break my writer's block by returning to The Great Gatsby (It's all Nick/Gatsby btw, just realized that might not be immediately evident) with limited success. It's always come easier for me. But all of this is stuff I do actively want to work on.

Ohh I don't know who to tag. I'm sure everyone in this circle has been tagged already, and most of the people I talk to regularly enough to know about their projects have more or less left Tumblr... I do absolutely want to pass this your way though, @antique-ro-man!! (It's Wes, btw!) I also wanna tag @heyfagbutt! And then anyone else who sees this and wants to participate, I also encourage it!! This is such a cool idea :D !!

Long, rambling explanations down here ⬇⬇

I think the name is pretty explanatory? The gist of it is they go after the same guy and become pseudo-enemies but they keep bumping into each other like this and decide to work together after a while 👍 this is a really bad hook LMAO. Anyway, I'm trying to build on the idea that they work REALLY well together when they do it intentionally but fail comically when they don't.

Pretty much what it says on the tin as well. No Supernatural AU. Dean goes to a community college to get a certification to help with his work elsewhere, but Cas, a figure drawing model, catches him drawing (which Dean's been doing on and off as a hobby) and tries to get him to sign up for the arts program.

I technically only have a summary of this, and I'm not entirely sure if I will write it all out, but I do want to at least put more time into the development before I dedicate to giving up on it bc of scope lol. I just have SUCH a soft spot for fake relationship AUs. Also, I just found out that while I have FINALLY aged into independent FAFSA eligibility, I am once again tax bracketed out. Anyway, financial abuse is real and I want to project my suffering onto Dean. Also immigrant Cas, but I haven't decided where I want him to be from yet. I think this has a lot of potential for some pretty hefty character redesigns too so it's also compelling to me from that angle. I guess I could also write it for TGG, but I did initially think of it for Destiel, so.

I don't know how to explain this one very well except that I had unhelpfully written "poolboy au" in my notes and then proceeded to forget what the hell I meant. This fic was an attempt to resurrect that but ended up being a funky modern West Coast re-imagining where Gatsby can't even "make it" as much as he wants to, and Nick can't find a place to live except for a less-than-legally rented pool house. It's not meant to be a full rewrite or anything though.

Uhhh yeah, I'm keeping the details private for this one ahaha but that's just because it wasn't supposed to be a big deal and I told a friend she would see what it was when it was done...like oh god probably a month ago at this point... My original scope for this was quite small, but research for it, indecision, and a nasty case of writer's block that I've had for nearly a year now have kept development a bit slow. Hopefully, I'll finish it before the year comes to a close.

I also don't know how to explain this one well other than "after being rejected by Daisy (Canon Divergent), Gatsby attempts to buy his way into a bewildered Nick's heart. Though the fic is from Nick's POV, Gatsby's just had his worldview shattered and is in a bit of denial, but instead of pursuing Daisy harder, he channels all of that energy into Nick (though he's not really sure why he's doing it at first). I wasn't sure what to put up at the top because I absolutely don't want my code name for this public at least until it's done LMAO.

#new post #tag game #spn #cause i'm gonna kick this over to my main too bc of the tgg #but i SAID i was gonna quarantine the spn stuff here so .#sorry i feel soo much more rambly than normal #did you know that some property managers will approve you in fewer than 2 hours after you submit your application?#can't stop thinking about that

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maidoffate · 7 months

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Why did you reblog a post that paints Isreal being a colonist apathies state as a falsity, ignores everything Isreal has done to the Palestine people for decades before Hamas existed, blames other Arab nations for not allowing Palestinians to be deported into their borders rather than Isreal’s genocidal campaign against them, and claims people should actually be protesting those Arab states rather than Israel’s ongoing mass slaughter?

Do you genuinely believe Israel is not responsible for every action they have taken since the occupation began? Do you only care about Palestinian lives so far as displacement and cultural genocide is acceptable, but not a blood one? Are you Islamophobic and/or racist to Arabs?

Or, is it what I hope, an inability to recognise genocide denial? That a malicious actor intent on taking agency away from Israel as a way to excuse their actions took advantage of your Jewishness to emotionally manipulate you. That in a time of intense emotions for all of us, racial biases got into your head and you engaged in this material accidentally.

You don’t have to answer this, I’d quite frankly rather you didn’t because I don’t think anything of value would come from it, but if you actually read this, please just look inwards as to why someone can cloth “Israel doing a bloody genocide against the Palestinian people is not the problem, other countries not letting Israel displace the people in an act of cultural genocide is” and you accept that argument as a valid one.

Salam Alaikum. Unless your response is still pro genocide, in which case, obviously, fuck you.

I actually am going to respond to this because I have a lot to say and I think you're going to find out me and you actually think more closely on the core issues than you think. I've been avoiding posting anything myself because I don't want to deal with the headache and potential harassment, but whatever.

First of all, if you read my tags to that post, you should realize I am not at all absolving Israel from blame. The occupation lies in their hands. They created Hamas, directly and indirectly. I am not denying any of the atrocities this state has done—even before the 2005 disengagement from Gaza. I have hated the state for as long as I've been politically active and have only grown more disgusted and disillusioned the more I researched about the subject. Chances are I know more about the conflict and its current state affairs than you considering I had to be pretty well versed on both sides of the spectrum and their current day aftermath to pass my Regime and Politics course (which didn't really whitewash anything and was incredibly critical of the state as it is).

I don't really agree with all the post in its entirety (particularly putting apartheid and colonialist in quotes, because like, regardless of OP's intention, those are objectively happening and there's no whitewashing it), but I wanted to platform the core conceit of it, which is that Hamas is bad for Palestinians. I haven't seen any other post really outline some of the reasons why in a way I could tell people. That post isn't really all-encompassing, either, but it's the best one I saw even if it does have its problems.

I outlined my stance in what I thought was clear in the tags, and avoided making a proper addition to the post because, frankly speaking, I'm not exactly "Tumblr famous", so I don't really consider any impact on whatever posts I platform. Only like 10 people ever show up in my reblogs, and most of them have (justifiably) not touched the small amount of Israeli-Palestine stuff I've posted with a ten foot pole.

I am not at all blind to the genocide happening in Gaza and the frankly disgusting living conditions and routine terrorism and abuse Palestinians receive from illegal settlers and the IDF in the West Bank. I read Gideon Levy's work. In what world is it acceptable for a "democratic country" to have a city (East Jerusalem) where only 5% of the citizens have citizenship? It's deplorable.

But I'm going to be clear: I have been to two funerals this week. A childhood friend of mine is in critical condition in the hospital. I've seen pictures, videos and heard what must have been dozens of stories from people who've survived the attacks that happened on October 7th and understand the sheer depth of the atrocities that went down.

So excuse me if I don't have the patience when I log into Tumblr and see that the overwhelming consensus is that "there is no resistance without violent retribution" and "those settler colonialists deserved it" and a bunch of people stand in solidarity with a literal fundamentalist terrorist dictatorship that has burned houses and people alive and massacred children. As if that's at all comparable to violently fighting back against soldiers and actual occupying powers.

I've seen several people compare Hamas to the ANC and like... just the sheer confidence of what people say without actually knowing any of the history and facts of the situation continues to amaze me.

Now, I'm not going to pretend as if there hasn't been a vocal rallying pro-Israel voice from western media, world leaders and other liberal celebrities (which I refuse to platform, for the record. I was offered a job in helping to translate summaries of the events to Japanese and refused because I'm not interested in spreading Israel's narrative.)

My only interest, really, is just trying to make people understand that they are not "standing in solidarity with brave warriors of oppression". They are supporting terrorists. Actual terrorists. Not just freedom fighters like Nelson Mandela, but a group that is actively trying to eradicate every Jewish person from this land, and doesn't care about any of the damage it deals to its own community or the non-Jewish people hurt in the crossfire. The Bedouin people have arguably suffered the most from Hamas' missile strikes, considering they live in poorly funded villages that don't even have proper protections and bomb shelters.

On a fundamental level, I am pro-Palestine (in the sense that I recognize they are the occupied victims of genocide, and deserve human rights, the right to self determination, and a state to call their own, whether it be with a two-state solution or one secular democratic state for all living in the Israel region), but I cannot begin to tell you the actual amount of vile antisemetic (not anti-zionist, not just critiques of Israel, I'm talking actually antisemetic) shit I've seen on this website due to this whole mess, not to mention people undermining every single Jewish plea post because it doesn't mention every facet and atrocity done right now.

It feels like no one can talk about the sheer density of actual antisemetic rhetoric without receiving "erm actually muslims have it way worse so stay in your lane". It's not a competition. Oppression is oppression. (And for the record, I'm talking about just the general communities right now, not just those living in Israel and Palestine -- obviously the people in Gaza are having it worse right now with the lack of water, food, electricity, and no proper safe place to reside in. They need help the most. Donate to the PCRF.)

Not every post needs to be fully comprehensive. Ignoring something in my post doesn't mean I don't care about it. It's just that I'm focusing on something else right now, because I don't believe people I've heard it. Not every Israeli needs to clarify "by the way I don't support the apartheid and colonization" to get people overseas to understand what is happening here.

Regardless, with my rationale out of the way, I will say I apologize for making you feel unsafe with that reblog -- again, only 10 people show up in my notes and I don't mean to make anyone feel concerned for what I think of them with whatever I post. I've went ahead and put my tags on that post into an actual addition so that anyone who sees that post can platform a better version of it that doesn't undermine the horrors going on here. Again, I really didn't want to post anything myself because I don't want to deal with the stress of it all, but fuck it, the block button is free.

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inkrabbit · 2 years

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New pinned post since I see a lot of people have started following me! Welcome!

Below is everything you'll need to know about this blog!

First and foremost, this blog is 18+, so minors DNI. Any and all smut will be labeled as: 18+ or semi 18+

Commissions are open! Head here if you want to check out details!

AO3 | Ko-fi

Continue below to check and see if requests are open, and also just some general notes for my Ghost and Bully content

My masterlist can be found here. Note: This is heavily outdated and mainly serves as an easy way to find my old fics.

Requests are currently closed! Thank you to everyone who sent in the current requests I have! If you're curious to see what I write for, feel free to look here!

REGARDING GHOST:

I will occasionally reblog the Nameless Ghouls unmasked, but I will always tag it as "#unmasked ghoul". Please block this tag if you do not want to see anything regarding the actual musicians! This applies to posts that actually feature their social media, or even pictures of them. I will also use this tag just as an in case if/whenever I draw them maskless (even in ghoul form).

Just so we are clear: I call Era 5's lead guitarist "Sodo" instead of "Dewdrop". I've seen some people on Tumblr upset about people calling him something different. Please do not message me about this. It is my preference and that's that. Any asks/DMs regarding this will be deleted. Thank you.

When writing for the Papas, I will swap between masculine and feminine terms for GN!Reader. Italian is very unforgiving, I know this. I will also occasionally use Italian-American slang. These are words I grew up hearing from both my grandmother and mother and they feel more "right" in some terms. Those will always be translated, no matter how many times I use them because if you try to translate it through Google or something else, nothing will pop up.

Every request filled for Ghost will be put into The Papa's Favorite or Into the Ghouls' Den on my AO3! However, not all fics posted to my AO3 make their way back to Tumblr.

I plan on eventually doing Mary Goore content, but only after I get through my current requests and fics that have already been planned, unless he is requested.

If you want to know more about my own personal headcanons for the ghouls, Papas, or anything else, feel free to ask!

REGARDING BULLY:

As stated in the request section, I will NOT accept any asks or DMs regarding student/teacher relationship. I don't care if it's hinted ingame, I don't care if it's what you want to see. It will NOT be tolerated on this blog.

When making fics for Bully, I try to incorporate actual dialogue from the characters. This helps me keep them more in character, and also gives me a good opportunity to use any cut beta dialogue or actual interactions.

On the topic of cut beta content: The Boy's Dorm in my fics will always be the beta version. This is really just the same layout as the Girl's Dorm, but with a more masculine color palette (brown/tan walls with blue carpet).

If you want to now more about my own personal headcanons for any character or clique, feel free to ask!

That about wraps everything up! Thank you for stopping by the blog and checking everything out. Again, if anyone ever has any questions, my asks and DM are always open, please don't hesitate <3

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johnmchacker · 1 year

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The First #Tag Game

Because @gryffindorhealer is a bro

Post the top 5 works you’re most proud of that you released in 2022 (not necessarily your most popular)

Choices toes the edge of what I'm willing to write in HP fanfic (note warnings) and I mark it "AU" as I don't really want my "canon-compliant" stories to turn out this way. Still one of the most suspenseful stuff I've managed to put out, and hopefully thought-provoking.

Twenty-Five Years Later is the kind of post-canon I really really really want to write, and is a foretaste of things to come: Aurors, Quidditch, family, adulting, Shakespeare, love!

Horses For Courses is one of the least-liked fics I have but the Adventure genre is IMHO underrated and recalls somewhat my innawoods experiences.

Painted Stations again let me indulge my secret love of poetry, and my constant angst-ridden reminiscing.

And last but not least, Jumpers Then Fall is the product of the Romione Discord's Christmas exchange which is truly one of the highlights of my calendar now.

2. Your top 4 current WIPs that you’re excited to release in the new year

The 8th Year Fic is one that has been brewing for literal decades now, as is

The Drastoria Story which has a very very very special place in my heart

Kreacher's [Redacted] tickles me the most

The Last [Redacted] of the [Redacted] I'm eagerly waiting for the right time to release this

3. Your top 3 biggest improvements in your writing over the past year

I'd say Output volume, use of present tense and beats

4. Your top 2 resolutions (ways you wish to improve your writing/blog) for the new year

Definitely PUBLISH MORE and BE ACTIVE ON TUMBLR!

5. And your number 1 favorite line you’ve written this year

Published, I presume: "Four months after, he too joined the dead, and what happened then, only they know." From the one fic I've published so far: Last Orders, a birthday tribute for Lily Evans and my coda for Severus Snape.

Lord knows I'm probably the last to this game, but just in case: @takearisk-ao3 and @brightlybound, two wonderful talents from whom I hope to be able to read new stuff this 2023 (wink wink nudge nudge)!!

#hp fanfcition #hinny #romione #the tag game

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steppingstonesuniverseguide · 9 months

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One More Step Out of the Pit: Chapter 5/26

Summary: It had been Tommy and Tubbo for practically forever. They clawed their way out of hell together. They discovered their superpowers together. They started working for the Superhero Guild together before even coming of age. Tommy probably owed Tubbo his life ten times over. So, when the three supervillains he'd been assigned to bring in managed to take Tubbo hostage, well, there was really only one thing to do.

He knew, of course, he was signing himself up for torture and death by offering that trade, but that was okay.

It'd have to be okay.

AO3 Link (See AO3 for Warnings.)

(This story is finished and has been posted on AO3 for a while, but I'm posting it on Tumblr so it's somewhere else too (considering the day AO3 was down a bit ago). The author notes will all be kept as well. If you are following the blog and don't want to see these posts, block the tag #backlog.)

This was fucking shit, Tommy thought. He’d just wanted to buy break and milk, but instead he’d ended up having to spend his money on the shitty first aid equipment the little store had. The nasty lady had slipped him some extra bandages and disinfectant. Tommy didn’t know if she’d bought them with her own money or stolen for him, but he didn’t ask. He’d have plausible deniability if anyone asked. She’d also bought him a bus ticket, so he didn’t have to walk all the way back to the apartment. She hadn’t even complained about him doing wound care on the floor of the shop, had helped him out even, though she obviously didn’t know what she was doing with medical stuff. She’d been a bit pale by the end. Tommy forgot that some people were simply lucky enough not to know how to stitch up wounds on themselves. Still, she’d done her best. Maybe he should stop calling her nasty lady in his head.

Now he was at his apartment building, slowly pulling himself up the stairs. He was able to use his powers a bit to help, but he couldn’t get enough momentum to fly up the stairs without hurting himself, so mostly had to take the slow way. He felt like he was fucking dying, though the stab wound hadn’t gotten anything too bad, and he probably wasn’t going to actually die as long as Tubbo could get him antibiotics.

For now, he’d cleaned the wound with saline, and he knew they had three leftover pills in the bathroom cabinet from the last time they’d needed antibiotics. (You were supposed to take them all, but they always tried to leave one just in case.) That’s the first thing he went for when he made it to the apartment, downing two of them and saving the third for later.

Then came the task of carefully removing the ruined sweatshirt (he’d already cut it and the t-shirt underneath to get it out of the way). He frowned at it, hoping Tubbo wasn’t too sad it’d gotten ruined before using a washcloth to clean himself up around the bandages the best he could.

Then he all but collapsed in bed. He glanced at his phone and saw that his shift was set to start in under two hours. He couldn’t afford to not go in for the day, but he also didn’t think he’d be able to walk to headquarters, let alone work. He’d have to call in. Maybe they’d be willing to put him on half pay for desk duty until moving didn’t feel like being stabbed again. It wouldn’t be the best financially, but he and Tubbo had survived worse.

He needed to call into HQ. God… he really did not want to have to tell Dream about this. He was contemplating just simply not doing that and going to sleep. He could blame it on the blood loss.

Yeah, that wouldn’t go over well. Just as he was about to give in and dial the number, there was a soft beep.

Tommy froze and looked at his wrist. It was something they’d gotten down in The Pit before escaping out of the barrier. Most people on the surface wouldn’t recognize it and they’d hidden it under weaved together yarn in the shape of bracelets just in case (‘Friendship bracelets!’ Tubbo had enthused. ‘Clingy bastard,’ Tommy had replied with an eyeroll.) It was a simple spell that appeared as a red mark on both of their wrists. If either of them were in danger, they just had to squeeze their fists in a certain pattern and it would beep and glow on the other one’s wrist.

Which was what it was doing now.

He was out of the bed the next moment. His wound protested, but Tommy shoved aside the pain. There were more important things going on. Tubbo was on his superhero shift and he’d just pressed their panic button.

He was on a superhero shift and he’d just pressed their panic button!

Tommy could barely breathe as he grabbed his superhero costume and pulled the red fabric over his head. He felt the motion pull at his stitches and tried to go a bit slower, but ultimately it didn’t matter right now. He pulled on the matching pants and slapped on his mask before bolting out of the apartment. He didn’t bother to take the steps, hopping over the railing and hitting the ground probably a little too hard even while using his powers.

He didn’t even remember 90% of the trip by the time he busted into the Superhero Guild’s headquarters. “Where is he?!” he asked the first person he saw. They just looked confused, so he impatiently shoved past them. “Where’s Tubbo? What happened? Where is he?” he asked everyone he saw as he shoved though the office, even though most of them probably didn’t even know Tubbo by name.

The only thing that stopped Tommy’s rampage of panic was Dream suddenly standing in front of him. “Tommy,” he said, his tone saying many things that Tommy was very much not listening to right now.

“Where is he?” Tommy asked. “Where is Tubbo. Tell me right now!”

“Calm down, Tommy,” Dream said, his voice even.

“Don’t tell me to calm down!” Tommy yelled. “Where is he? Tell me!”

“Tommy,” Dream’s voice held a warning even someone not familiar with his temper could recognize. “Stop this right now.”

“No! I-”

He was interrupted by a sharp stinging slap across his cheek. There was a moment of stunned silence in the office. Tommy imagined everyone was probably looking really uncomfortable right about now, but Tommy could not see it because he could only see red.

“Now,” Dream said calmly. “If you’re done with your tantrum…”

And then Tommy did something absolutely, stupendously stupid. He reared back and punched Dream square in the jaw.

He had just one shining moment of pleasure brought on by the absolutely stunned expression that crossed Dream’s face. Then the man’s expression darkened.

Fingers gripped his shoulder painfully tight, and he stumbled as Dream just about yanked it out of its socket. To Tommy’s surprise, he wasn’t being dragged back into the man’s office for a private dressing down, but instead Dream was taking him in the opposite direction.

Tommy slowly started to lose his grip on the gall that had reared its head moments before. “Uh Dream,” he hedged, “where are we going?”

Dream’s second hand moved to the back of Tommy’s neck. “Shut up,” he said, as the tight grip pushed his head forward a bit.

Oh shit. Oh shit. Oh shit.

He was manhandled across the hall to the temporary prisoner holding cells, complete with power neutralizing crystals and a guard. Dream opened one of the cells and shoved Tommy roughly into it. Tommy’s knees stung as they hit the hard concrete floor. He turned to blink up at Dream as the door was shut and locked behind him.

“Now,” Dream said with a disapproving frown from the other side of the bars. “You’re going to stay in there until you cool off. Then, maybe we can have an adult conversation. Or at least, maybe, an elementary aged one.”

He turned to leave then and Tommy panicked. “Wait!” he said, and Dream turned halfway back, his expression icy. “Wait, please,” Tommy begged. “Just at least tell me what happened to Tubbo. Please. I’ll be quiet then. Promise.”

Dream seemed to mull it over for a few long moments. “I don’t know how you even know something happened,” he said. “Tubbo was captured by the SBI.”

Tommy felt himself freeze in panic. “N-no,” he said shaking his head. Tubbo was… Tubbo was soft. No matter how much he’d struggled when he was older, he’d been born into a family with some amount of power. A shitty family in the end, but a family nevertheless. He’d been shielded during his formative years from the worst of the worst and no matter what lessons life threw at him or Tommy tried to teach him, some part of him was still far too innocent. It was something in the end Tommy loved about him. He was a warm little life-giving fire to curl up next to on the days the world was the coldest.

Tommy knew plenty about the SBI. He’d been given folders about what exactly they were capable of when he’d been assigned to go after them. They left a trail of blood and destruction in their wake and didn’t care who they hurt. Philza was a traitor with no remorse, the Blade was known for how efficiently he could slaughter whoever he wished, and Whippoorwill had described in morbid detail exactly what he wanted to do to Tommy on multiple occasions. Tubbo could not be with them. Especially not when Tommy had been the one to fail to bring them in so many times. Tommy was supposed to protect him.

“No, he can’t,” Tommy protested because he didn’t know what else to do. “We have to do something.”

Dream shook his head. “There’s nothing to do,” he said. “They’ll bargain with us for something they want or will manage to get something out of him.” Tommy’s mind spun with ways they might try to ‘get something out of’ Tubbo. “It isn’t ideal, but it’s not worth the manpower to fight them on it.”

“How can you say that!” Tommy asked.

“I believe you promised to be quiet if I told you what happened,” Dream reminded calmly.

“Fuck you!” Tommy returned. “Fuck you, you green Teletubby fuck!”

Dream sighed in exasperation and turned to the guard on duty watching them with wide eyes. “Don’t feed him without my say-so,” he said and then turned to go.

“Get your bitch ass back here!” Tommy shrieked, but Dream did not even acknowledge him. “Fuck you! Fuck you!” He did not stop raging even long after Dream had left. The guard got annoyed enough that he finally left to go sit in the back office, probably with headphones on.

Tommy eventually couldn’t scream anymore, his throat starting to ache. All of him ached down to the bone. He curled up into a miserable ball of pain, tucking his face into his knees and absolutely not starting to cry. He didn’t cry. He just had the hiccups and also the allergy count was probably high and, and Gold Rush liked onions. He was probably cutting onions to eat raw for lunch like a maniac and the smell was coming through the walls.

Tommy had lost track of how long he’d been sitting there with this horrible case of the hiccups before he heard a door open. He didn’t look, assuming it was the guard figuring out he wasn’t screaming anymore. Yet, his head popped up instantly when a quiet voice said, “Hey.”

Tommy blinked at the figure in front of him, immediately recognizing him though he didn’t know him that well. His name, well his superhero name was Ender. He was Dream’s only other mentee that had come to work at the Superhero Guild only a couple of months ago. Dream kept the two of them deliberately on separate schedules for some reason. Ender always worked from 1am-11am, so their paths never crossed, but Tubbo said he was nice. They’d worked together a couple of times.

Now, the boy was kneeling to be level with Tommy. He had a finger over the mouth of his mask, cautioning Tommy to be quiet.

“What are you doing here?” Tommy asked in a whisper.

Ender glanced back at the guard station and then pulled something out of his pocket.

Tommy looked at it, breath hitching. “Why?” he asked.

“Tubbo’s my friend too,” Ender replied. Tommy was startled he knew Tubbo’s real name but shoved the thought away as the boy reached up and stuck the key in the cell lock. He stayed crouched so he was less viewable from the guard’s window.

“He’ll be upset,” Tommy pointed out when the cell door swung open with an uncomfortably loud creak. They both knew who the ominous ‘he’ was.

Ender shrugged, but Tommy could see the tension lining his frame. “Yeah.”

Tommy swallowed.

“Here,” Ender said, handing him a phone. “I stole it off his desk. I checked. It has Philza’s contact information.”

Tommy took the phone and cradled it to his chest. “Thanks,” he breathed.

“You should run,” Ender said. “Before the guard comes out. Before anyone sees you. I’d teleport you out, but he has a tracker on my powers and would be able to tell where you went.”

Tommy nodded, sticking the phone in his pocket, and then doing what he did best: escaping.

#backlog

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