Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: Persona 5, Genei Ibun Roku #FE | Tokyo Mirage Sessions #FE Rating: General Audiences

fuck it everyone tell me about one fanfic which has changed your brain chemistry

Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: Power Rangers S.P.D. Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Jack Landors/Sky Tate, Dru Harrington/Sky Tate, Jack Landors & Officer Tate, Elizabeth "Z" Delgado & Jack Landors, Sydney Drew & Jack Landors, Bridge Carson & Jack Landors, Jack Landors & Sam (Power Rangers S.P.D.) Characters: Jack Landors, Sky Tate, Sydney Drew, Elizabeth "Z" Delgado, Bridge Carson, Anubis "Doggie" Cruger, Officer Tate (Power Rangers S.P.D.), Dru Harrington, Sam (Power Rangers S.P.D.), Katherine "Kat" Manx Additional Tags: The absolute funniest series of events led to this fic, Episode: s13e33 Impact (Power Rangers), Episode: s13e09 Idol (Power Rangers) Summary:

Jack finds himself trapped, and he gets help from an unlikely source.

Yet another writing ask

Which of your fics would you keep the basic plot of but rewrite completely?

Anything that you'd like to write but feel like you're unable to?

How would you describe your writing style?

Do you have any OCs? Do you have a story for them?

What's a tag you never want to use for your works even when it applies?

What's your ratio for rating your works?

Your favourite ao3 tag.

How slow is a slow burn?

Thoughts on cliffhangers.

Top three favourite fic tropes.

Three tropes that are fine but overrated.

If you write in more than one language, what's the difference?

Rate your worldbuilding skills from 1 to 10.

Write and share the first sentence of a new fic. Just that.

What's your favourite plotless fic you have written?

Are one-shots really underrated?

Past or present tense? Why?

First, second, or third person?

Share a snippet from a wip without giving any context for it.

Do you work on a single project or many at the same time? How does that work for you?

Can you accurately predict how long your fics are going to be? If you can, what's your secret?

What is it about watching the same two idiots falling in love over and over again?

Dialogue or description? Why is the other one so hard?

Thoughts on flashbacks/flashforwards.

Is writing the whole thing beforehand better or worse than writing it as you go?

What would you describe as OOC?

Do you agree that one shouldn't start a story with a piece of dialogue?

Any writing advice that works for you and you feel like sharing?

What's the hardest thing about writing?

Describe a fic that almost happened, but then it didn't.

What was the most difficult fic for you to write (but in the end you made it)?

Do you have a word/expression that you always use in your writing?

Give your writing a compliment.

Do you write to improve? Or is that not a concern for you?

Thoughts on writing challenges/contests.

How do you come up with fic titles? What's the one you're most proud of?

Do you research before writing or while you write? Is it fun or boring for you?

"This never happened" fix-it fics or "this happened but" fix-it fics?

Wildest AU scenario you have written?

Write a 9-word fic.

trick or treat!! :3c

You get…

And then Arata throws the door open.

“You’re not actually breaking up with me, right?” Arata says, voice cracking, and Souma’s eyes widen.

“Oh, come on, Arata. I was kidding, I’m not actually breaking up with you.”

Arata walks over and practically dives into Souma’s bed, his hands grabbing the back of Souma’s jacket.

And suddenly, Souma feels really pathetic for getting so upset over something so stupid.

“I’m sorry for scaring you.”

“I’m sorry for giving her ammunition to use in your fights.” Arata responds, muffled by Souma’s shoulder.

“Nah, it’s not that big of a deal, really. I’ll just write another set of imagines to piss her off more.”

writing fanfiction is just. i’m being so creative and original. i’m plagiarizing everyone by accident. i’m a genius. i’m cringe. i’m too angsty. i’m too cheesy. this is not in character. it doesn’t matter that it’s not in character because these are my characters now. i love my hobby. this is the worst possible use of my time. i’m seeking validation. i’m projecting my own personal problems onto this story and i’m barely hiding it. i know so many words and i’m using all of them wrong. im on tumblr posting about it instead of writing it.

Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: Persona 5 Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Suzui Shiho/Takamaki Ann Characters: Suzui Shiho, Takamaki Ann, Kamoshida Suguru Additional Tags: Minor Character Death, It’s an au based on episode 11 of Leverage: Redemption, The Jackal Job, Alternate Universe - No Personas (Persona Series), Alternate Universe - Actual Phantom Thieves (Persona 5), that’s the best way to describe it Summary:

Ann Takamaki was The Panther. The legendary grifter. And The Panther made a fatal mistake. Falling in love with a mark.

BLORBO ASKS GAME

reblog if you’d like people to send you asks about your Blorbo

who’s the Blorbo that you’ve never posted about on your blog?

who was your first ever Blorbo, who was your childhood Blorbo, and are they still your Blorbo?

was there any specific point / any specific moment that suddenly made this character your Blorbo, or did you slowly grow to love them more and more until they became a Blorbo to you?

what’s the thing you love the most about your Blorbo?

what’s the thing you dislike the most about your Blorbo?

if you could talk to your Blorbo, what would you say to them?

what’s the one thing the fandom gets wrong about your Blorbo?

is your Blorbo an introvert or extrovert?

describe your Blorbo in 3 words

if your Blorbo were real, would you trust them with your life?

have you ever written a fanfic about your Blorbo?

do you talk to your family or in-real-life friends about your Blorbo?

is there any crime, any wrongdoing your Blorbo could commit that would make you stop loving them and remove them from your hyperfixation entirely?

have you ever distanced yourself from your Blorbo / have you ever left a fandom because people in the fandom were being too toxic?

have you ever gotten involved in ship wars?

is your Blorbo canonically alive?

do you like seeing your Blorbo suffer?

do you ship your Blorbo with any character?

when it comes to Blorbos, do you have a type?

if you have more than one Blorbo, do you love them all equally?

if your Blorbo is from a live-action media, are you also a fan of the actor who plays them?

would you still love your Blorbo if they were real?

is your Blorbo a victim of badly written script / bad plot / character assassination in the hands of canon?

if you could change one canonical thing about your Blorbo, what would it be?

how did you first discover your Blorbo?

when you first discovered your Blorbo, did you realize from that moment that they would become your Blorbo?

do you gatekeep your Blorbo? / would you want more people to know about your Blorbo?

have you ever been attacked online just because you liked your Blorbo?

has a fanfic about your Blorbo ever made you cry?

do you think this character will still be your Blorbo three years from now on?

Whumptober Day 4: Sensory Deprivation

Beneath The Surface

The closet feels darker than it should be. Like Yusuke should be able to see some outline of the door or some light fluttering in through the window, but no it’s pitch black.

He can’t see the walls around him, but he can feel them, he can’t stretch out his arms or legs without hitting them. 

When he was younger the closet felt bigger, but now that he’s in that awkward part of puberty where Madarame is constantly complaining about having to buy him new clothes, it’s suffocating in a whole new way.

Yusuke would have thought claustrophobia was based on being able to see that you’re enclosed, but apparently not.

He steadies his breaths. Sensei will let him out soon, right? He can’t be that mad.

Yusuke had only wanted to keep a painting for longer, put on some finishing touches, it wasn’t ready for Sensei to display.

So what if he screamed, Sensei hadn’t been listening and–

And now he’s in this dark closet that’s both a void and much too small.

Yusuke leans his head back, and at some point falls asleep, because his neck is sore. Now that he’s had some time to calm down, he can admit to himself that he was lying.

Sensei’s real talent was his eye for appraisal; he'd been consulted on identifying forgeries before he became a big artist. Of course, he could tell Yusuke was lying, that he didn’t want Sensei to put it on display under a different name.

Yusuke didn’t care all that much the first time it happened, the twinge in his gut and being kept awake for nights thinking about what this meant for everyone who’d come through notwithstanding.

But, this one had been special. It had been a dream or a memory of going to the aquarium with his mother. 

There was a touch tank, full of creatures the other kids were gathered around, and Yusuke was scared to go up for some reason.

He can’t remember anything more than the hazy outline of his mother, not what she said, just that she helped him calm down and slowly guided him over to the tank.

And… he thinks he remembers her laugh.

A manta ray had come up to meet Yusuke’s hand and splashed him a little, and Yusuke can picture in his mind her laughing and saying See, it likes you! but he doesn’t know if that really happened or if it was something he made up to cope with the fact that other kids could remember their moms.

It was a stupid thing to base a piece on, not with more and more students leaving and Yusuke having to pick up more of the slack. If he hadn’t wanted Madarame to take it, he shouldn’t have made it in the first place.

Yusuke pulls himself tighter and takes in a shaky breath. When Sensei lets him out, he’ll have learned his lesson.

Don’t tell Sensei “no.”

And don’t think about his mother when making art. Not if he wants what fleeting memories he has to stay his.

“would you come to my funeral?” + narumitsu

"I'm going to write something short," I say, and then come out with nearly 1300 words of Angst. But this really was the perfect line for some good angst, and so I hope you like it! (and please excuse any typos, I very much have not done any editing here)

Thanks, Sparrow! :)

Send me a randomly-generated line of dialogue and some characters, and I'll write a (relatively) short fic!

............

It’s raining. That’s the thing that Phoenix notices, first—the way the water collects on the pane-glass of the window, the office dark and silent otherwise.

How long has he been in the building for the weather to have changed so drastically? How long did it take to extricate himself from the aftermath of the trial, to escape the celebrations and cheer once he’d noticed the conspicuous absence where someone should have been?

Long enough for the cup of tea abandoned on the desk to have gone stone-cold, he realizes, when he presses his fingers gently against the side of the delicate china vessel. Long enough that Miles Edgeworth might be long gone by now, and he’d have to ride his bicycle home in the storm, without even getting a chance to check in with his oldest friend.

Motion, from the corner of his eye, and Phoenix swings around to a previously unexamined corner of the room, in the shadow of the vibrant pink sofa and the framed jacket on the wall. A hiding place, of sorts, and for half a second he feels the chill of adrenaline through his veins as he wonders if he’s about to be attacked in Edgeworth’s office, victim of a trap planted for the prosecutor and not for him.

But he relaxes, as much as is possible, when he recognizes the figure slumped against the wall by his distinctive cravat, his steel-grey hair. Miles Edgeworth, looking distinctly miserable, but Phoenix will take it if it means he’s here.

“Of course you’d manage to find me,” the man grumbles, and Phoenix laughs, awkwardly.

“Well, you know what they say about defense attorneys,” he jokes, hand combing through the hair on the back of his neck. “Always sticking our noses where they don’t belong.”

Miles huffs, as though he can’t be bothered to dignify that with a response. With some trepidation, Phoenix moves closer, kneels next to him, attempts to put himself on a level with the prosecutor. He doesn’t quite reach out, the way he so desperately wants to, because he’s never quite sure where exactly he stands with Edgeworth, these days. He’d hoped, that since they’d cleared up the history behind the DL-6 incident, that they would have properly reconnected, but…

Well. It’s unfortunate that they only ever seem to see each other at opposing ends of the courtroom, or so it seems.

But Edgeworth looks so downtrodden that Phoenix can’t help but want to help him, and so he crosses his legs and leans against the wall, nearly casually, and risks his life to ask his next question:

“What’s the matter? Why aren’t you out with everyone else, celebrating a job well done?”

“Wright. Really?”

“Well, yeah, maybe it didn’t turn out quite as well as it could have, but...we’re still a step closer to fixing the justice system, aren’t we? Sure, the Chief Prosecutor’s….in jail, and the Police Chief is...alsoin jail, but--”

“Wright, I’m going to stop you before you can jam your foot even further in your mouth than it already is.”

“That’s...probably a good idea, yeah.”

They pause, for a moment, listening to the wind and the raindrops against the window. A distant lightning strike illuminates the office, and Phoenix is reminded of quite how high up they are.

“Would you come to my funeral?” Edgeworth asks, apropos of nothing, and Phoenix’s head whips around almost faster than he can process the words.

“Your—Miles, what are you--” He can’t form a full sentence, finding his mind blank even at the prospect. Edgeworth sighs, deeply, and leans his head back against the wall, eyes closed.

“My funeral, Wright, it’s not that difficult of a question. At such a time as I perish, whether through natural or unnatural means, would you attend the event that I assume someone would inevitably arrange for honoring my memory or other such tripe.”

Phoenix is still stuck processing, the very prospect of Edgeworth and death and funerals all sparking associations he’d rather not think too hard about, calling to mind the ceremony they’d had for Mia not even six months ago—and, even earlier, the image of a far younger Miles Edgeworth in a black suit, surrounded by arrangements of lilies and with an unreadable expression.

“I—well, in a purely hypothetical scenario, because you aren’t going to have a funeral anytime soon—in that case, of course I would come to your funeral, Miles, what do you take me for?”

“Truthfully, I don’t know. I’m not—” and Edgeworth pauses, clutching at the fabric of his sleeve as he averts his gaze to the opposite corner of the room. “I’m not exactly a paradigm of innocence, and your reputation for...well…”

“Are you still trying to say that you’re guilty when we’ve proven that time and time again to be untrue? Miles, c’mon, that’s bullshit. And—my reputation?What, do you think I’d even care, if you were—”

“Wright, surely you’re not that much in denial. I’m as much guilty of evidence tampering as Lana Skye. And worse—you know the tactics us prosecutors employ. I did not gain the name Demon Prosecutor for nothing. I’m not—you shouldn’t even associate with me.”

Phoenix frowns, eyebrows furrowing. He’s clenching his hands into fists, he realizes, as he takes a deep breath and focuses on trying to have this discussion rationally, as much as possible.

“Miles Edgeworth, you can’t blame yourself for doing as you were taught. You were only a child, you should have been able to trust your mentor figures—it wasn’t on you to be able to construct a detailed critique of the legal system! And you think that I wouldn’t associate with you because of that? I guess…” he swallows, looking away from the prosecutor. “I guess you don’t know me as well as I thought you did, then.”

The silence is almost tangible, as they let Phoenix’s words sink in, settle around them in the dark office. In his mind, Phoenix begins to count the seconds that it’s taking Edgeworth to answer—one, two, three…

“I suppose I don’t,” he finally supplies, and that’s it, then, the kind of sentence you don’t continue a conversation from. It’s not the only thing he seems to want to say, Phoenix notes, but it’s the only thing he vocalizes, letting the sound of the rain fill in the empty spaces.

Phoenix breathes out, slowly, and stands up. His knees pop as he does, tiny cracking noises competing with the rumble of thunder from outside.

He looks over his shoulder, and Edgeworth’s still on the ground, avoiding eye contact. It’s not like he wants to leave, but…

Maybe Miles just needs some time alone. He seems to have a lot on his mind, and Phoenix probably isn’t helping by bothering him with conversation.

He lets himself out of the office, vowing to himself that he’ll check back in tomorrow morning, when the rainstorm’s let up and the world’s back to normal. He isn’t going to let Edgeworth wallow in his thoughts for too long, at least.

Overnight, the rain fades to nothing, clouds making way for soft sunshine, promising bright blue skies for the day and uncharacteristically warm weather for February. Miles Edgeworth’s office window lets in the sunlight, where it illuminates the grand desk and the items on top of it. In turn, the light falls on a pen, a nameplate, a lamp.

A teacup, still half-full from the night before. And…

A note, with one single line of neat cursive penned in the middle of the crisp, textured paper:

Miles Edgeworth Chooses Death

Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: Persona 4 Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Kujikawa Rise/Shirogane Naoto Characters: Kujikawa Rise, Shirogane Naoto, Narukami Yu, Seta Souji Additional Tags: Rise is the killer au Series: Part 4 of Reversed Arcanas: Investigation Team Summary:

Lovers

Upright: Love, harmony, relationships, values alignment, choices Reversed: Self-love, disharmony, imbalance, misalignment of values