#jim writes

[forfuckssakejim]

This took me 3 years to write so I hope yall like it but here’s some Gomens fanfic ft the Job episode and Crowley asking the question that we all thought

An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works

[kingofthewebxxx]

Like this post if you would like to receive a letter from Jim!

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Mulitmuses please specify

[jimtheviking]

@notasapleasure​​ tagged me in this, so blame her :p

Rules: List the first lines of your last 20 stories (if you have less than 20, just list them all!). See if there are any patterns. Choose your favourite opening line. Then tag some of your favourite authors!

1) Untitled Ingrid/Felix/Sylvain fic 1, Fire Emblem: Three Houses - "Where is he? I'm going to kill him!"

2)

Worth the Effort, Marianne/Hilda, Fire Emblem: Three Houses

- “Lady von Edmund? A letter for you from Lady Goneril.”

3) Sunshine, Dedue/Mercedes, Fire Emblem: Three Houses - Sylvain entered the medical tent hesitantly, as if he weren't sure what, exactly, he was supposed to do. His armour was still streaked with ash and mud from the battlefield, and his face was so pale that Mercedes' thought the blood at his waist must be at least partly his.

4) Don’t Hold Back, Claude/Byleth, Fire Emblem: Three Houses (NOTE: This is just smut, so be warned) - It was late, far too late for anyone to be out and about on the monastery grounds, let alone a student, but Claude had never been one for following the rules. Especially when they got in the way of what he wanted. And right now, he wanted - needed - to be in a certain someone's room.

5) Untitled Ingrid/Felix/Sylvain fic 2, Fire Emblem: Three Houses - Sylvain didn't quite know how he'd gotten himself into this situation. Or, rather, he knew how, just not why he was in it in the first place.

6) Untitled between ANH and ESB fic, Han/Leia, Star Wars - A heavy silence hung over Home One's main briefing room, its two inhabitants locked in a battle of wills, silently daring the other the speak first. The guards posted at the door looked at one another nervously; the last exchange they'd heard had been heated, to say the least, and with two of the most mutually antagonistic members of the Alliance inside, it seemed likely that something had gone wrong

7) Untitled pre-TLJ Star Wars fic, Finn/Poe, Star Wars - The smell of cheap tabacc and stale malt assaulted Finn's nose as soon as he entered the cantina. Why he always found himself back on these desert planets was a mystery to him, but at least Tatooine wasn't unbearbly hot like Jakku. He stood at the doorway, his eyes adjusting to the sudden darkness and skin prickling from the relative coolness.

8) Untitled SW:TOR fic, OCs, Star Wars: The Old Republic - Jamaar sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose between gloved fingers. He inhaled deeply and centred himself, pushing away the rising frustration inside him. Boraas was his brother, and while he couldn't condone all of his actions, family was still family. Even the Jedi Order acknowledged that. Occasionally.

9) The More Things Change, Wilhelm Reinhardt/Ana Amari, Overwatch - The Beast was massive. Far larger than anything Reinhardt had ever seen or fought before. Save the Titans, of course, but he had an entire Strike Team with him when those monsters rampaged across the battlefield. Its shoulders were humped with snow, and had his armour not shown its heat signature, he would have sworn it was a hill, rather than an Omnic.

10) Relieved, Celes Chere & Kefka Pallazzo, Final Fantasy VI - Celes sat at a thick wooden desk, pouring over a tattered parchment. Haphazard heaps of maps and sheaves of paper were stacked in every corner of the command tent, but the desk itself was free of clutter. A pile of neatly stacked reports sat in the corner, weighted down by a dozen wooden disks and a handful of ornate Figaroan coins. She sighed and let the sheepskin fall to the scarred desktop as she rubbed her eyes, trying to figure out how she would convince the mayor of the city that she had already stretched her supply lines to the limit. This occupation was getting more and more difficult every day, and the lack of resupply from Vector and the sorry state of her army hardly helped matters. She had barely a hundred soldiers available to her that were uninjured and healthy enough to fight - half a thousand, if she counted the walking wounded - and only a dozen suits of Magitek armour in operational condition.

11) Something Pretty, Edgar Figaro, Final Fantasy VI - Edgar stared over the parapet, the desert lit with dozens of tiny points of light. Fires from the camps of the nomadic Firegs who gave the desert, the kingdom, and his family their name. High above, a hundred thousand more points of light filled the sky.

12) Sketches, Relm Arrowny, Final Fantasy VI - There's been a lot a fightin' and stuff around home lately, an' me an Gramps volunteered to fight against the Empire with these rebels callin' themselves the Returners. Silly name, like somethin' outta an Esper-story.

13) Misunderstandings, Edgar Figaro/Terra Branford, Final Fantasy VI - Edgar paced in front of his window, the cool breeze doing nothing to soothe his foul mood. It had been nearly a month since Locke had made his way to South Figaro, and there had still been no word from him. The thief was prone to disappearing for months at a time, off on his treasure-hunting escapades, but this time, something was different. What was even more worrying was that his brother had sent no word as to his whereabouts either. The last time he had seen Sabin, he had been floating the opposite way down the Lethe. While he had made a joke at the time, he couldn't help but feel a pang of concern over his brother's safety.

14) Choices, Edgar Figaro, Final Fantasy VI - The moon hung bright and round as a new-minted coin in the desert sky as a young man paced along a sandstone parapet and stared out into the vast expanse of sand.  He could have nearly anything he wanted, he knew; a word to the right people and any jewel in the world, any food, any song or story, even any woman, would be his.  Anything, but what lay beyond that desert.

15) Untitled Pacific Rim sequel fic, OCs, Pacific Rim - We'd beaten the Kaiju back in 2025.  Everyone knew that, knew about Marshall Pentecost's sacrifice, about how he and Chuck Hansen blew themselves apart in a thermonuclear fireball to clear a path for Marshall Mori and Raleigh Becket to charge a refurbished Mk. III Jaeger through the Breach so that they could overload their reactor and blow 'em all to hell.  Everyone knew that.  That's why we loved them, that's why we were able to repopulate the coastlines, that's why we're not starving half to death in the interiors anymore.  We're starving half to death all across the world now.

I’m just gonna tag some people I know write stuff, you can do this if you want to, or not, whatever!

@swedishwarriorwoman​, @catofthecanals289​ @tarantula-hawk-wasp​, @shouldhavebeenadancer​, @gaygarrusvakarian​, @stunt-lads​

[tinyphantomsalad]

Bro are you taking prompts??? If so I would love #6 from the fluff ones w/ finnpoe??? Please????

I haven’t written finnpoe in a while!!!!! omg i miss these idiots, ly!!!!!!

Fluff Prompt #6:

"I don't care if you're sick, catching a cold from kissing you is worth it"

Finn had caught the flu. He hadn’t really realised what it was at first, a sniff here, a cough there- it was nothing! Really! To begin with that is. Sniffs turned to sneezes and coughing turned to hacking. Leia eventually forced him to take a break and rest for a couple goddamn days.

Poe had been wonderful. He was kind and caring, and for the past few days had made sure Finn had everything he needed. He’d really hit the jackpot huh?

"I don't care if you're sick, catching a cold from kissing you is worth it" Poe said with a pout, leaning in again,

Finn laughed- well it was more of a wheeze, “You’ll get sick you dumb fucking himbo!” he turned his face away.

“Himbo?!” Poe pulled back, resting his hand on his chest in mock offence “did Rey teach you that?!”

Finn gave him a grin, “actually it was Leia.”

The world was not ready to hear the sound of betrayal and terror that Rey and Finn were teaching the general HoloNet pop-culture slang. Finn laughed again and Poe took his chance to kiss him on the cheek, whooping triumphantly,

“You’re gonna get sick,” Finn sighed, Poe shot him a wicked smirk,

“then I guess you’ll have to take care of me,” he dived in and kissed Finn on the other cheek,

“you’re a nightmare,”

“And you love me,”

“yeah, yeah I do.”

Finn did, eventually have to take care of Poe, who was still adamant that it was worth it.

[flyboy-and-fight-me]

So y’know how I said I’d do an Obikin one shot where Obi-Wan is injured in battle??

Weeeeellllllll...

*throws this at you and bolts*

word count: 1.1k

Warnings: Major character death

read it on AO3

Battle Cries

The heavy smell of fear and sulphur scratched at the back of Anakin’s throat. A twisting, burning feeling in his lungs told him they’d have to evacuate if they didn’t want to choke on their own blood. He whipped around, swinging his lightsaber to block the blaster fire coming in from all sides- this had been a peacekeeping mission. They weren’t meant to fight. They were outnumbered and ambushed on arrival. His heart beat wildly in his chest as he cut cleanly through two clankers, moving forward towards the whirl of white and blue armour covered by an overturned medical crate.

“How’re we looking, General?” Rex called over the hail of blaster fire sizzling above their heads, Anakin took a chance and peeled out from their spot,

“Outnumbered- fuck where the hell is Obi-Wan?” Anakin growled, the Jedi master had split from him when the fighting began, leaving Anakin stranded without his partner. They were always better fighter when they fought side by side and a cold ripped through his veins at the thought of his master and him not being together. Especially now.

“Cover me,” He hissed, igniting his ‘saber once more, feeling the familiar thrum beneath his fingers. Rex nodded and Anakin rejoined the thick of the fight.

Had he not been in the middle of a battlefield, Anakin would have smiled. This planet was beautiful, crystals and gemstones gleamed in the rocks that slope the valley walls, the dying binary suns casting dancing shadows that lit the ground with fire and ice and everything in between. The crystals however, were nothing compared to the halo that formed around Obi-Wan in the red-gold dusk light. His white armour was stained several shades of red, catching the light just so as he swung his lightsaber to block his attackers. His hair was ruffled and damp and glowing. He was every bit the angel in those stories he had heard as a child. Obi-Wan was beautiful.

In his reverie of his former master he’d been surrounded by clankers. Their trademark metallic voices drilling into his head as he cut through them. Still more came. They’d never make it out of here by sheer force alone.

“We need to head back to the ship!” He called out, “there are too many of them!”

“Really Anakin? I hadn’t noticed!” Obi-Wan’s perfect Coruscanti accent clipped back over the buzz, this time Anakin really did smile.

“I didn’t know you were having so much fun, Master! I thought you were ‘too old’ for this?”

Obi-Wan made an indignant noise and Anakin snorted, blocking several shots that were just a touch too close for comfort.

“I’ll show you who’s too old, my friend,” He replied, Anakin turned his head, catching the charming smile that the man sent his way. The light caught in a halo around his head.

Anakin felt it before he saw it.

It was one well aimed shot. One shot that had gotten past the near impenetrable defences around him. Anakin’s smile fell away. The heat of the battle gone and now only replaced with a cold, coiling pain that laced one half of their bond. Obi-Wan fell to the ground. Charming smile gone from his face, now scrunched in pain.

He didn’t know how he ended up by his former master’s side so quickly. Nor how he had dropped his lightsaber. Fear. Cold and aching like a too-stiff joint overtook him. It dragged its long claws down his chest as a scream ripped through him. The earth shook and the blaster fire stopped.

Anakin didn’t notice.

No.

Anakin noticed the way the light of the twin suns caught Obi-Wan’s copper hair. He noticed the grunt of pain that came along with lifting his head into Anakin’s lap. The way his blue eyes shone with tears as he looked up at him.

“This is a terribly unimpressive way to go, don‘t- don’t you think?” Obi-Wan bit out, crimson blood staining the seam of his lips. Anakin shook his head, “no. please.” He couldn’t lose Obi-Wan, not like this. Not on some unnamed system. Not to the clankers. Not to the war. Not ever.

“Anakin.” He said in that way. The way that Anakin had known since he was a child. The way that he had felt was laced with such fondness and exasperation and love and he was never going to hear it again.

“Obi-Wan, you’re going to be okay. D’you understand me?” Hot tears spilled from his eyes. “You-“ he faltered, panic shooting through him. “-you’re gonna be okay. We’re gonna get you back to Coruscant and-“

“Anakin.” The older man interrupted him in a voice he didn’t recognise; it was soft, softer than he’d ever spoken to him; the way one might whisper to a lover. Obi-Wan’s hand moved slowly to Anakin’s cheek, his thumb brushing away the tears. “Of all the things I’ve done in my time-” he grunted, “- at the order… meeting you… being your friend…”

His voice became weaker and Anakin scrambled to hold onto their bond. Fighting with a desperate fury to keep Obi-Wan there with him.

A frustrated look passed over Obi-Wan’s face, “don’t think… that I can’t lecture you one last time eh?” he said mirthlessly, before becoming serious once more. Anakin’s heart felt like it was being unpicked, taken apart thread by thread and tugged and pulled and twisted as Obi-Wan’s eyes fluttered,

“No- come on, stay with me, please, please, no,” he wanted to be screaming, but all that came out was a choked and broken sob.

“Anakin…” he said, in that soft voice again, a sad smile on his lips, showing the blood-stained seam and teeth beneath it.

“I love you.” The words left his mouth before he realised he’d thought them. His former master’s eyes widened a fraction- damn it to the abyss Anakin didn’t care. He loved Obi-Wan Kenobi. And he was never going to be able to tell him again.

It seemed with the last of his physical strength gone, Obi-Wan reached out through their thinning bond. It was so familiar, so warm and comforting and a fresh wave of tears broke ranks. It was open and fond and wrapped around him like a hug. Like some living thing that looked like spun gold and bathed them both in the last of the dying light of dusk. Obi-Wan’s voice echoed through his mind:

I love you too.

And for a second all that filled them was pure, unadulterated happiness. Untainted by war and corruption or resentment. It was them, just them. Two halves to a whole.

And then it receded. Leaving nothing but an empty shell in its wake.

And Anakin finally shattered.

[digitalmoriarty]

So, I posted something new up on AO3? It’s a drabble collection full of gentle nihilism and people dying. I affectionately call it the Soft Apocalypse, but the title over there is “In The Dying Light”. So if you like Riverdale and really really rare pairings (For the main pairing it is literally the only fic on AO3) or a bunch of people facing the end of everything... maybe check it out?

(I’ll be rambling about those versions of the characters over here because... well, I can. But I’ll tag it)

[kissmyarrows-blog]

Space is an expanse of darkness, a collection of distant points of light, a place of simultaneous creation and destruction. It is a place of darkness and danger, capable of killing a man within seconds, of exploding stars, of drawing planets into a collision. It is cold, remote and isolated, endless in its existences. But there is a kind of savage beauty in its danger that draws us to reach into it in an attempt to uncover the unknown, to wonder about what there is for us to discover, what knowledge there is for us to gain from treading courageously out into its infinity. It inspires us to wonder and to dream, to search for answers. It draws us into adventure, into a desire for discovery. It pulls us into exploration of the farthest reaches of our imagination. It gives us possibility, the knowledge that there is something out there bigger than all of us, if we would only look, and it gives us the hope that maybe we are not as alone as we think. Its distance is a call for us to go further, to come closer to knowing it. Its danger thrills us, captures our attention, gives us a rush that fills us so completely that we seek after it. Its coldness and isolation brings us an understanding of what it means to be lonely, makes it more human in a way, more relatable and understandable.

It causes us to think that, perhaps, we are not so different from the stars. Perhaps our atoms and the atoms that make up galaxies are not so varied from each other. Perhaps, regardless of race or gender or background, regardless of how we act and how we see things, regardless of where we are, we are not really so different from each other. Perhaps, once, we made up the same star, rode along on the same asteroid, were joined together in a living planet. Perhaps we were all connected, and somehow we all came to be here, in this moment, separated but still part of one expanse of space, still connected by an eternity of time. Perhaps, we are not so lonely as we feel, not as different as we seem. We are held together by a much larger idea, a much larger ideal, and a much larger dream. We’re never really alone.

"Be humble, for you are made of Earth. Be noble, for you are made of stars." __Serbian proverb

[forfuckssakejim]

Day 2 of @startrekfemslashweek: Tribbles

An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works