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nateriverswife · 10 months

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24 and 29 for fic writers asks.

24. Share a moodboard for (one of) your current WIP(s).

Going with:

24 Hours – basically, there’s this person that in 2000 decides to challenge L and gives him 24 hours to find them. Each hour they broadcast a new crime. Funny thing, which is immediately known so it’s not a spoiler, is that they are in the same building as L, pretending to be a plumber and they plan to blow up the building with both of them inside. They are so unhinged, and I love them so much. They literally plant a bomb under the kitchen sink in L’s apt, when he’s present, cuz they have a plan B: shoot him right there. Straight to the point. They don't care about the challenge itself, but to ruin L the detective and him not doing anything gives him a bad rep.

29. Share a bit from a fic you’ll never post OR from a scene that was cut from an already posted fic. (If you don’t have either, just share a random fic idea you have that you don’t plan on getting to.)

Okay, this death note fic idea is a weird one. I started writing it in my italian literature class, because I was bored. I wrote just the beginning bcause the class bell rang and I forgot about it. I don't intend to continue it lmao

Basically it's a case in which are involved poems by Giovanni Pascoli, that I was studying at that time. Nothing too elaborate and I didn't get all the details down, so yeah. Under the cut, the first part of the first chapter. L was supposed to appear after this scene, pretending to just take a walk in the graveyard, as someone does (he noticed the FBI cars from his apt and wanted to know more about what was going on, and Watari wasn't around).

The relentless clicking of the heels of the young Federal Bureau of Investigation agent Jessica Parker caught the attention of most of the forensic workers. They followed her parade down the central driveway with judging eyes. They knew why she was there, since they had witnessed the heated conversation that had taken place shortly before between her and team leader Flavius Bennett on the phone, but her short white strapless dress, decorated with pinkish lace and little flowers, and her pink handbag were, apart from being unusual, not appropriate for a place like that. And they did not refer to the cemetery they had found themselves in, but to the work she had to do.

"Finally!" Bennett exclaimed as soon as he laid eyes on her.

He passed the officer he was talking to and walked over to her.

"You could have worn something else..." He commented, eyeing her from head to toe.

"You could have not called me on my day off."

He handed her his clipboard and took off the jacket he was wearing, arranging it, then, over the girl's shoulders. He took the item back and signaled for her to follow him.

"I wouldn't have called you if it hadn't been directly addressed to you." He replied. "I'll briefly explain what happened, then, there will be Marlinson to tell you about details."

Jessica rolled her eyes and bit her lower lip, lest her disappointment at having to work with him be felt, but Flavius could sense it, nonetheless.

[...]

They reached the crime scene but remained quite far away so as not to get in the way of the forensic team's work. Jessica was able to observe the three corpses, anyway, lying side by side and carefully arranged. There was no visible blood or signs of any injuries at first glance, but she decided not to be immediately swayed by the sight, not knowing any further information about the deaths.

"We think it was a murder. The victim is Johanne Nelson, female, 24 years old, white, American, has no children and no boyfriend. Lives downtown on Northwest 10th Street. She attends Georgetown University, a thirteen-minute drive from her home. The car in her name is a two thousand nine BMW fifth series." He glanced quickly down the page and looked at the next one. "That's it. Any questions?"

He turned towards the woman, who was busy observing the crowd of people and her surroundings.

"And the two bodies at her side?" She asked, pointing at the corpses. "They look like they've been dead for quite some time."

"Because they are. They are the victim's mother and father. They were pulled out of their graves and laid out like that." He took a pause as he searched through his papers for a photo. "On the gravestone, it says this." He handed it to her.

The red writing, probably done with a felt-tip pen, because there were no smudges or lighter strokes, as would have happened if blood had been used, read:

“Io vedo, vedo, vedo un camposanto,

oscura cosa nella notte oscura:

odo quel pianto della tomba, pianto

d’occhi lasciati dalla morte attenti,

pianto di cuori cui la sepoltura

lasciò, ma solo di dolor, viventi.”

"Is that a verse from a poem...?" Jessica asked, shaking her head, confused.

"Not just any poem. It is by the Italian poet Giovanni Pascoli, who lived from the late nineteenth to the early twentieth century. It is the first poem in the collection Myricae." Flavius explained, handing her an impromptu translation of the text.

"Day of the Dead...? I think I read it years ago."

"Exactly. It talks about Pascoli's family unity that seems to have created a new family in the cemetery, much more united than the one that existed when they were alive, and to be condemning, in some way, the survivors."

"Are you telling me that, perhaps, it is a relative who has done this?"

"Probably. However, we asked the head of the cemetery if there are any other relatives in the area, but he said no."

"And, even if they were to be outside Washington..."

"They would have no way of having gone far, because we believe the crime took place between four and six this morning. And now, it's..." He looked at his watch. "Half past one, which doesn't explain this evening attire of yours."

"It's not evening, it's formal." She corrected him. "And that's not important, I'm here about a murder, not the death of my private life because of you."

Flavius chuckled, but Jessica did not find it extremely hilarious. [...]

"You can always..." Flavius pointed her gaze at Marlinson's curly blonde head, intent on checking the various pieces of evidence in the bags being brought to him.

"Forget it."

"I meant to make yourself useful and not waste time. Go talk to him." He put a hand on her back. "We have a murder to solve, go." He pushed her, risking knocking her to the ground.

#dn.inbox #thanks for the ask!!

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crepuscularqueens · 6 months

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restraining myself to just a few and feel free to only talk about one, buuuut can i hear about black sails time loop, marvel diner/college football au and/or galley in the morning pweeeaase

yes!!!!!!! of course you can thank you so much!!!! you know how much i love to ramble about my silly wips (a lot more than uh. actually working on them lmao)

so black sails time loop is basically silver realizes when he's taking flint to thomas in the end that not only has he done this all before over and over, but flint has realized/remembered as well (silver always starts to catch on at the very latest mid season three, this is the first time flint has "woken up", so to speak

"Why now?" Silver asked, his voice breaking, desperate, "Why are you saying this now, why have you remained silent every time? If this time you knew earlier-"

"How many times did you try to tell me when I could not see? How many times did you tell Madi?" Flint asked him in return, not quite a challenge.

In truth, there had been many rounds that he had attempted to enlighten them. We have been here before, we will be thrown right back here again. I cannot figure out how to stop it. I'm sorry. He can't stop it, and he isn't able to change his path, because he can only remember as far as they've come until he is able to convince Flint to come with him. Then the end lays itself so clearly before him.

"Every time we arrive at this point," he said in place of a direct reply, "I cannot seem to change that, try as I might. Do you know where I end? The cliff where you taught me. After I leave you, I go back to Madi, desperate to have her understand. She sends me away and I go there. When she finds me there, I never get to hear what she has to say. I'm sent back to our beginning, forced to slowly wake up to this reality, to slowly remember how it has all happened before."

John Silver closed his eyes, weary, let his head fall back against the wooden planks with a dull thud, "Every action I take I remember as I do it that I've done so a thousand times before and dread that I will a thousand times again. Just once I would like to hear what it is that she had found me to say."

There is a silence that follows and John does not open his eyes. He does not want to know how the other man is looking at him, whether it's with anger or with disgust or worst of all with pity.

"Whatever is doing this, when do you imagine it will be satisfied?" Flint asked him, not sounding as though he was expecting a real answer.

"Do you imagine it's a higher power we've found ourselves at the mercy of?"

"Why, what do you believe is the cause of this?"

"Maybe that's all there is. Maybe that's all we are, a story told over and over again, some cautionary tale or horrible tragedy. Forced to go through the same motions over and over again, only minute details ever changing. If all I've ever done is this, and all I am ever going to do is repeat it until the end of time, how is it that I could imagine there exists anything else?"

marvel diner/college football au is sam and steve on a college football team and also working at sam's family's diner, and bucky is steve's best friend with a terrible attitude that starts coming in during shifts that sam is working without steve and sitting in a corner booth and staring like a freak. for hours. and sam pretends to be bothered by it but obviously is starting to get a stupid crush. and then bucky starts showing up to their practices just to sit in the bleachers with nat and watch despite clearly knowing nothing ¬ caring about football. (problem with writing this is that's also my thoughts on football lmao)

“Did he bother you?”

“He just sits there and stares at me, Romanoff. He’ll only speak full sentences to Steve, I don’t know why he keeps coming in here when it’s not even Steve’s shift.”

“Maybe you need to try being a little friendlier?” she asked, “Have you tried talking to him?”

“No, I just thought I’d glare at him from behind the counter and he could glare at me from over there in his booth, and we could just quietly hate each other when Steve wasn’t looking,” Sam replied sarcastically.

Nat rolled her eyes and grabbed the milkshake off the counter, neatly sliding off her stool and walking over to the guy. Figures she would go over and make nice with the guy he was bitching about. She had zero loyalty.

“You mind if I sit with you?” he heard Natasha ask sweetly, heard the tone of Bucky's quiet affirmative reply then saw Nat slide happily into the seat opposite Bucky.

He couldn’t eavesdrop on them, a group of stoner frat boys came in and Sam was the only one on shift at the moment seeing as it was the slow part of the day, so he grabbed a bunch of menus and let them choose their booth. It wasn’t that he didn’t trust Natasha, it was just that he’d known her since high school and knew she could be a devious little thing, so therefore he didn’t trust Natasha. He had no clue what her motivations were for making nice with Bucky. He swept by the booth with Bucky and Nat, who were now deep in conversation while he let the other group decide what they wanted to order. Sam refilled Bucky’s coffee mug, and gave Natasha a stern look that he knew was only going to serve to egg her on.

“Can I get the two of you anything else?” he asked, keeping his tone polite to prove to Natasha he wasn’t the problem here.

“An order of fries would be great, thanks,” Natasha told him, smiling in her crooked little way.

He looked at Bucky, waiting for him to respond patiently.

“Yeah, fries sound fine.”

It was the most he’d heard Bucky say since the whole tuna melt incident

galley in the morning is a continuation of this ofmd fic, and tbh i might as well go and post it at this point bc i don't think it was going anywhere past what i did with it. its vaguely set in season 1 and basically, stede goes into the galley the rest of the crew is having breakfast and he asks roach to make him a pot of tea to bring back to his quarters. he didn’t sleep well bc ed had been making a habit of sleeping in the same bunk as stede but didn't the night before. he says this without thinking of the implications and the whole crew zeroes in on this extremely juicy piece of gossip.

"Sorry, were we all meant to be aware of-"

“So, just for clarity’s sake, it wasn’t a one off, then?” Lucius interrupted Frenchie, brow slightly furrowed but tone was his usual set of flippant-casual that he kept assuring them wasn’t sarcasm, “You and Blackbeard have made a habit of, uh, sleeping together?”

Stede’s mouth fell open, then snapped back shut, thinking on it for a moment, all too aware of the watchful sets of eyes on him, eager for an answer, “Well, if you put it like that, I suppose not.”

“Now, when you say… ‘sleeping together’…” Pete said, trailing off before he could elaborate on that unfinished thought.

Lucius put a hand on the man’s shoulder, shaking his head, and the simple act of casual intimacy opened within Stede this bottomless pit of want, of utterly consuming yearning, feeling like it could devour his very soul. Not jealousy to be in the place of either Lucius or Pete in that moment, but to simply be capable of that type of casual physical intimacy, of the depth behind it, knowing what the two of them have together.

#ask #apatheticjoy #xoxoxo tysm jo!!! these are actually fun ones maybe i can actually get them finished #mine

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teodoraioana221 · 4 months

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(Posting this one here, ‘cause it has a few short OC trivia moments, if you're curious)

I was tagged by @eve-to-adam, so here we go! It might get long, so buckle up for the ride. 😂

1. How many works do you have?

I couldn't tell you a number, because I've had multiple stories over the years. Some were short comics for semester projects I had to do back in uni, others were WIPs I started and abandoned, others are ongoing personal storytelling projects I'm working on at the moment.

2. What fandoms do you write for?

I don’t really write for any fandom right now, I prefer to focus on my own, original stories and OCs. But I wouldn’t put that idea past me entirely, with the way my hyperfixations work, you just never know. 😂

3. What are your top 5 stories by kudos?

I don't really want to make a top, but some of my favorites include a few short stories I wrote for Project Paranormal, which is a shared universe I'm co-creating with Andreea (@eve-to-adam) and about which I'll be talking about at Question 9.

4. Do you respond to comments? Why or why not?

Absolutely I do! I even went to war with the “promote it on ->” bots on Instagram at one point, by replying with passive-aggressive comments, so. 🤣 Jokes aside, people who take their time to interact with my work and express their support mean the world to me, and I’m incredibly grateful to have them around. And those who even come back regularly? You deserve the world and I love ya 🥹✨

5. What’s the story you wrote with the angstiest ending?

Hmm… Depends what you'd consider “angsty”. I guess one that could count would be a short, horror graphic novel I've done for uni. One of the main characters dies, while the other ends up in a mental institution, unsure whether the previous events truly happened or not, but haunted by some… otherworldly things that tend to suggest everything has, in fact, happened. I wouldn't necessarily see it as angsty per se, because that was never the aim when I wrote that ending, but it’s the only one I could think of.

6. What’s the story you wrote with the happiest ending?

Do on-going storylines whose development I know, count? Whatever, I’ll pretend they count. 🤣

I would say one of the happiest ones would be Hubert and Dolly's relationship (two of my OCs from Project Paranormal). Even though they didn't start on the best of terms, they ended up progressively discovering they actually... enjoyed each other's company, once they started chatting like, you know, normal people who weren't looking for a silly argument just for the sake of it. Because that's what they were doing in the beginning; their personalities clashed in a way that turned all their encounters into a match of "who annoys who first". To the point where they couldn't even remember what was the precise starting point of that whole thing. 😂 But then, little by little, once they started opening up, they both fell for each other pretty damn hard. Their relationship was obviously not gonna be without any hardship, because they both had their own flaws and things to work through (especially Hubert), but they found a tremendous amount of love and support in each other. They realized they simply… get each other, you know, on a level they couldn’t have anticipated, but which was there to last for a lifetime! So yeah, they’re definitely getting their happy ending. :D

7. Do you get hate on stories?

Not that I’m aware of. And even if I did, I wouldn’t… really care that much? ‘Cause I’m not writing for them haters, lemme tell you. 😂

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

I like to depict sex and intimacy in my stories, so yeah, my writing kinda covers that stuff too. I usually prefer to go with the flow in those instances and see where the scene is taking me, in terms of description. Whether it’s gonna get more explicit or it’s gonna be a “fade to black” thing, depends entirely on the moment itself. I also like to be as character-centered as possible in my approach (which applies to every aspect of my storytelling, for that matter). I wanna take into consideration each character’s relationship with sex and intimacy, when I’m describing them; slight nuances to convey the moment in the same way each character is experiencing it, you know. What things they like, how they like them, how they communicate with partners etc. Like, take Delicia for example (my OC from Project Paranormal): she’s an experienced gal who likes to be creative in the bedroom (and outside) and is slightly more into the rough side of physical love, so depictions might get more blunt and slightly more explicit in her case. But at the same time, it wasn’t always like that, was it? Because she, like everyone else, had her own starting point, her own journey with intimacy and self discovery. And I want to capture that feeling as I’m writing her character. I want to capture that feeling with all of my OCs; I’m always trying my best to write as naturally as I can, to make the story really feel as if it’s a close look into one’s life and experiences. The spicy scenes are no exception to that! :D Now, whether I’m successful in this approach or not, is a completely different topic, but that’s beside the point. 😂

9. Do you write crossovers? What’s the craziest one you’ve written?

Not necessarily, but I do have one ongoing storytelling project that could technically count. It's a shared universe I'm co-creating with my friend, Andreea (@eve-to-adam). For the sake of this post I code named it “Project Paranormal” because it pops up for some other questions.

It's basically a story that revolves around two main families (Marlowe, written and created by me, and Elkins, written and created by Andreea) and their lives, as well as extra folks like friends, lovers, their pets etc. It's a romance meets supernatural (there are ghosts, ghouls n’ curses) meets historical fiction (it spans over the entire 20th century and goes until present day) meets drama type of story, with slice of life sprinkled all over. The slice of life aspect is kinda my favourite, because I generally enjoy writing the everyday experiences of my characters, those that don't necessarily tie into a specific plot point; like some sort of a “fly on the wall” approach. The story has a main plot, of course, and a main timeline of events, but under that we're essentially having fun with all sorts of storylines and moments. Right now I would say it's an open format story/universe, meaning we're drawing/writing different out-of-order parts and tidbits, but ultimately they all tie into that main timeline and plot we've set. So, at the end of the day, the story can always be put together chronologically, into a graphic novel type of format.

Ah shit, I almost forgot. The “crazy” bit about it (Andreea mentioned it in her own post as well) is that it all kinda started from a bunch of sims we created in Sims 4 one day. We were simply chatting and having a laugh about it and then we went “🤨…🤔” and bam! here we are today, with a bunch of Marlowe and Elkins generations and their storylines. 😂 ❤️

10. Have you ever had a story stolen?

Either I haven't OR the thief is hiding exceptionally well, I can’t tell. 😂

11. Have you ever had a story translated?

Does self translation count? 😂 If so, then yeah. I usually write in my native language, but I translate into English once I decide to post some of it online. The funny thing is, the English translation actually improves the writing in some cases (specifically the dialogues!), because I have some English, Irish and Scottish peeps amongst my OCs, and in their case I can play with things like slang, accents, cussing etc, which gives a more natural vibe to their conversations (and is kinda fun to work on).

12. Have you ever co-written a story before?

I’m currently doing that with Project Paranormal (see Question 9)! :D

13. What’s your all-time favourite ship?

— Aragorn&Arwen from The Lord of The Rings, always! They're probably one of my oldest ships, too, and they will always hold that special place in my heart. Aaand they’re definitely the reason why, to this day, I have a big thing for elf+human couples in fiction. XD

— Bill&Frank from The Last Of Us (show version), because people finding their lil’ corner of love and happiness in a dying world?? Hell yes, all the yes! 🥺

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

Hmm… There is this one fantasy story I've been trying to put together for the past 2 years or so, but at the moment I kind of lost my passion for it. I tried to rethink and revive it in 2023 and it worked for a while, but ultimately I put it back on the shelf again, at least for now. In a way I wish I will regain that passion to continue, because I have some characters there whose stories I'd still like to tell, but right now I don't see it happening. Besides, I have other story ideas I want to test (and possibly pursue) right now. But who knows? Maybe one day?

15. What are your writing strengths?

Okay I totally suck at identifying my own strengths, lmao. 😂 But let's give it a try. I would like to think I'm good at allowing my characters to shape the language I'm writing with, instead of me shaping the language for them. I always love when, in literature, dialogues sound like things people would say in real life, or when the writing imitates the manner of speech people use on a daily basis (one of the reasons why I like Stephen King’s writing style, for example). I strike to achieve the same in my stories, so I give my OCs the freedom of talking in their own, individual ways.

16. What are your writing weaknesses?

I tend to write too slowly for my own liking. I'm also a bit of a scatterbrained type of writer; let's say I write a certain scene, when suddenly I wanna jump to a totally different one. Nothing wrong with that, of course! But in my case, at the end of the day, I either end up in a writer’s void and I can't write for either scene anymore, OR I constantly switch back and forth between them and I can't concentrate on either one. Sucks to be me sometimes. 😅 But I'm trying to improve this in myself, so let's hope for the best!

17. Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language for a story?

It’s a pretty cool thing and I like seeing it in stories. It's a concept I'd like to play with, too. For example, some of my characters from Project Paranormal have Portuguese ancestry and speak the language: Delicia was taught by her mum, Dolly, and by grandpa Thomas (Dolly's father). I'd like to think Dolly and her lil’ lass would frequently switch to chatting in Portuguese, during Delicia's formative years, which helped her learn the language and become fluent (and later on in life, Delicia will do the same with her own daughter). So, naturally, I'd love to have at least a glimpse of those conversations in the story as well! :D However, I will have to rely on the mighty internet to help me with that, because I don't know any Portuguese. XD

18. First fandom you wrote for?

Ooooh, you’re digging up very old memories with that one. I think the first fandom I ever attempted to write for was InuYasha, an anime I watched and enjoyed back in the day, when I was a bit more into the anime scene. But you can imagine how that went, considering I was like 12 years old or something like that. 😂

19. Favourite story you’ve ever written?

The most recent one I did. It's called “By The Alley” and it's a short story from Project Paranormal that features two of my OCs: Hubert and Paddy. I like the story flow I managed to capture there and I feel like I'm finally finding my writer voice, so to speak. I also had a lot of fun writing their dialogues! Both Hubert and Paddy were born and raised in Leeds, West Yorkshire (although Paddy has Irish heritage) and they are “raised by the streets” kinda guys. The way they speak reflects that pretty well, so I had fun trying to put some of those nuances in their speech. And the cussing, I loved writing the cussing. I discovered this to be a very odd pleasure of mine, writing people who curse. 😂 And Hubert's definitely the right person for that, because the man has no filter whatsoever (with Delicia being a close second – like father, like daughter, am I right?). 😂

—

That's it! If you actually made it this far, have a cookie and a beer: 🍪🍺

…along with my undying gratitude, of course! 😂🫶🏻

I will tag: @theeuropeanidiotverse and whoever else wants to join! No pressure whatsoever, though! <3

#writing thoughts #tag game #writer ramblings

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icarusisstillflying · 2 years

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💥 writeblr intro 💥

hiii folks, this is gonna be my writeblr (hopefully we’ll see how motivated i am) so i want to do a little intro!!

about me

you can call me layne, or if u want to call me icarus, that works too

queer

they/them

disabled with like a million chronic illnesses

21 yrs old

i’m a college dropout with absolutely no plan ahaha

i work as a barista and am looking for music gigs on the side (i still need to get better at the music part oops)

currently reading: Harrow the Ninth by Tamsyn Muir

about my writing

i write mostly fiction/sci-fi/fantasy

almost all of my characters have powers or magic or aren’t even completely human

i like to write really cool fight scenes, i don’t care if they seem unreasonable, pretend it’s an anime idk. they have superpowers they can do anything

i like to explore the darker elements of these powers and worlds, so a lot of my work is nsfw bc of gore and stuff like that

like incorporating horror into my stories as well as just writing horror too

i write diverse characters and do the best research i can; if someone notices i’ve made a mistake or have accidentally written something insensitive, please let me know! i am always learning!

if i could draw i would make all of my works graphic novels as my choice of media, but alas, i am incapable of doing much more than staring at my tablet and getting angry when the picture doesn’t draw itself

my wips:

Generation Six

sci-fi, superpowers

a woman spends her entire life recruiting people known as Guardians to help protect the world from danger, but the biggest threat she’s ever faced is about to upend it all. not to mention the evil little shadow demon that lives in her head is constantly trying to overtake her and go on a murderous rampage. she’s a bit busy.

large cast, multiple povs

this series is on the back burner for now, i just am not sure where i want to go with it

an untitled pirate story

fantasy, magic gay pirates

the most feared pirates in the world is a crew of six people… and a magic cat? the captain is searching for the greatest treasure known to humankind, and she’d probably have it already, if they didn’t keep hitting all these roadblocks. seablocks? they’re on a boat.

small main cast

Murders of Crow Creek

western setting with supernatural/paranormal elements

a small town sheriff recruits an interesting group of people to help her solve a string of murders: a witch of the Dark Gods, a bounty hunter with a memory problem, a demon killer with a smoking problem, and a bartender with one arm and a hell of a lot of knives tucked in his boots. what’s the worst that could happen? ignore the all out war between gods that they accidentally get themselves into

small main cast

there’s ghosts, demons, angels, vampires, all sorts of supernatural beings just chillin in the wild west

personally love this one bc the main character, the sheriff, is just getting too old for this nonsense; she’s also a big time lesbian yeehaw

Kid Mother

sci-fi, post-apocalyptic

a disease has wiped out nearly the entire human population. if things weren’t already bad, this disease made it so that babies just. couldn’t be born. until one is. with the human population dwindling, and groups trying to speed up that process, our main character has to travel across the country with the first baby that’s been born in two decades so that scientists may be able to find a way to fix this entire thing. no problem.

very small cast

us vs the world trope

other info

i love answering literally any questions about my wips so pleeeeeaaaase ask away!!

i’ll probably also post any fanfics i write bc i have a lot of them, and i really need somewhere to share them oopsies

any advice about other places i can share my writing would be appreciated

please refrain from giving criticism unless it’s 1. constructive and 2. something i asked for :) sometimes i just Can Not Handle It

i do not tolerate any form of bigotry. if i see any clownery on any of my stuff, you will be blocked and reported. just don’t be an ass.

uhhh i think that’s about it? not sure what else to put in a writeblr intro, so if you made it this far, thank you so much! hopefully i will have more detailed posts about those wips up at some point before the year ends! follow if your interested, i’ll probs follow back :)

💥

#writing #writeblr #writers on tumblr #my wips #works in progress #writeblr intro #intro

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blossom-hwa · 2 years

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oh my gosh oh my GOSH oh my gosh deja vu with seonghwa!! i am an absolute sucker for this catboi and also a sucker for vampire aus. put them together and i combust 🤩

now this. THIS. I just rewatched the vampire performance again for inspiration and Jesus Christ just. anon. thank you for requesting this. I hope you like it :)

Winter break drabble game: send me a WIP and maybe a prompt (check out the post for ideas) and I’ll write a drabble from that WIP for you!

Title: Monster

WIP: Deja Vu

Pairing: Seonghwa x gender neutral!reader

Word count: 781

Triggers: N/A

Illusion

Seonghwa remembers a time before he became this.

It was a blessed time, and unlike many others who do not treasure what they have until it is too late, Seonghwa approached each day as though it was his last. He had a home. He had a life. He had food, water, a comfortable living. But most importantly, he had someone he loved and who loved him back just as dearly. He had someone he could come home to every day, someone with whom he could spend lazy mornings and early nights in their bed, both simply content to be in the presence of the other. It was blissful. It was everything Seonghwa ever wanted in his life.

He still remembers their name. It will never pass his lips again, not after what he did, but where other details of his many past lives have faded and blurred, their name rests in his memory with a crisp clarity that he both hates and treasures. It might be easier for him to lose sight of their name and their identity, but it is one of the last threads that keep him tethered to his humanity. The monster in him rages for him to forget.

That only makes him want to remember more.

And it is a good thing that he remembers, because when your hand presses against his forehead, it is the only thing that keeps him from losing himself entirely.

“I- what?” You finally react to his words, dropping your hand. Seonghwa feels the warmth of your palm like a hot coal against his skin even after you are no longer touching. “I’m sorry, I just wanted to make sure you weren’t sick or anything -”

Touch me again, he almost begs right then and there. Touch me again, please, let me feel your warmth. Because by God, the human left inside of him aches for the simple warmth of living touch, of the touch of someone who cares. Of someone who loves.

It has been so long since Seonghwa truly felt loved and it still feels like a dream even now, having known you for almost a year already. Every moment with you feels like an illusion, an illusion of something beautiful from centuries past. It reminds him of when he used to fully human. When he was still worthy of love.

But there is a monster in him now, a monster with fangs that only cares for the smell of your blood and snarls when it retreats, your arm dropping back to your side as you look at him in confused bewilderment. And while the human in him rejoices that the monster has been beaten back, if only for a moment, that only heightens the monster’s rage. Makes it howl. Makes it scream.

Makes it yearn even more for blood so sweet, torn straight from a human’s veins.

“It’s alright.” Seonghwa tries for a smile, all the while feeling the poke of his fangs against the inside of his lips. Go, please, stop caring about me. It’ll be better for you. “I’m alright.”

Don’t end up like them.

“I promise.”

Something melts in your expression, frustrated love that Seonghwa knows all too well - it is the same expression he always saw in his lover’s eyes when he worked a little too late or too long. “You don’t need to pretend, Hwa,” you say, and he shivers when the nickname falls from your lips. It sounds so much like the voice he heard from centuries past, a voice he never thought he’d hear again until he heard you speak -

“We can leave early if you want,” you offer, a little smile on your lips. Concern has written itself in every area of your face, but still you smile like you know that Seonghwa craves it, craves the tiny expressions of love that have been lost throughout the years. “Nothing much is happening.”

It would’ve been fine. Everything would’ve been fine, Seonghwa thinks, if you had just stayed where you were and let him be. But you step forward instead, once, twice, and then a hand rises once more to cup his cheek the way you’ve done just a handful of times before, none of which ended well but you kept trying anyway, kept trying to show him the blighted love you hold for him.

You don’t know. You couldn’t know. You never knew about the monster within Seonghwa, the monster he always took care to keep hidden. But your sudden proximity, combined with the phantom touch of your hand against his cheek - it’s too much, too much, too much -

And the monster in him wants more.

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hotchley · 3 years

Text

sadness

Right, my laptop is at 12% and I need to cross-post to ao3 and go to sleep because I have one more mock tomorrow, so I’ll try and keep this one short.

My post earlier sparked this. I am now writing a series called “he blinks” which explores how Hotch feels each of the eight core emotions (and probably love, because I am nothing if not a sucker for Hotch and Haley.) Anyways... sadness is first. But it’s more like grief? So... it’s set after 100, and yeah :) There’s no dialogue, and I think this counts as introspection, but I don’t know...

I had more to say, but I can’t remember so... onwards! It’s relatively short, 1272 words, so I hope it’s okay. I’ve not touched most of my WIPs since whenever I last uploaded a fic, and it’s more just me rambling so yeah.. go with it

Trigger Warnings: death, grief, the slightest implication of child abuse (please let me know if I’ve missed anything, but I think this is it)

read on ao3!

Aaron Hotchner’s sadness is quiet.

That’s what Haley’s death teaches the BAU.

Penelope’s sadness is happiness that seems too loud, too much, too forced and perfect to be anything but a terrible attempt at masking something negative.

JJ’s sadness is socially acceptable: she cries, she accepts the comfort, and then she stitches herself back together before anyone can wonder why one sentence wasn’t able to fix her.

Derek’s sadness is a fierce protectiveness over the people he loves most, because they are the thing that keeps him going and remind him of all the reasons to try his best to cope and move on and deal.

Spencer’s is an unusual thing, that is somehow vulnerable and closed-off in the same moment. He will shed his tears openly, sometimes not even realising that is what he is doing, but he recoils at the slightest glimmer of support.

Emily’s is hidden behind stupid jokes that can’t even raise the corners of her mouth and stories from a childhood that she still can’t quite wrap her head around serve as a coping mechanism, because if she cannot go back to that blissful ignorance then she will remind herself it exists.

Dave’s is an explosive thing that showcases itself as anger and a closed office door. The team always knows when he’s sad. He won’t accept comfort from anyone in the moment, but an unspoken apology is given to everyone in the form of a meal when he’s thinking rationally.

But Aaron’s sadness is quiet and unsuspecting.

The team had never realised that. They’d never been allowed to.

When Dave recruited him to the team, he was too busy keeping him alive to realise how quiet Aaron could be.

When Derek joined, Aaron was too busy with keeping him in check and making sure he was safe.

And when Reid, Garcia and JJ joined, only a few months between each of them, Hotch had been forced to take the reins from Gideon and would not let anyone see him break.

Emily accused him of not being human enough, despite remembering the boy that had worked for her mother and hadn’t quite learnt how to hide the flinch that was reflexive with every slam of a door, and who wore his heart on his sleeve without even realising, so she never saw him break. Until Foyet.

His sadness crept up on them.

They would go hours, sometimes even days, convinced that he was fine. That he was coping, and moving forward, and okay. It was stupid and wishful thinking, they knew that, but they also believed that Hotch was perfect and invincible.

Reid thought he never blinked. JJ still remembers how he never seemed to lose it.

They would assume he was fine.

And then he wouldn’t smile at something. Or he would, but it would be a shadow of his usual joy and childish excitement. Or it wouldn’t quite reach his eyes, which would remain just as hollow and unfocused and dull as the day of the funeral. Or it would seem to cause him pain to even try.

He would suddenly shove his hands in his pockets. As though he could still feel the blood of Foyet, mixed with his own because Foyet was not and never had been weak, tainting it, despite all the care Derek applied when he wiped them clean. As though he was still in that house, terrified his son would hate him for taking his mother away. As though he couldn’t look at them without seeing the monster he had always known he would eventually become.

Or his voice would soften, just a little too much. His tone would change completely, and the person he was talking to would feel like a child going to the one person that always made them feel safe and seeing someone that could only try to be that good instead. His words would become quieter. Less concise. More calculated. Like he was walking the line between control and destruction.

There would be hesitation. Hotch’s confidence was often a facade, but it was a facade so strong that it even convinced profilers. Morgan had hated it when he first joined, scared his new boss was going to be someone that would stand up and play devil's advocate, but then he had realised the truth: he was just scared of being undermined. Reid had admired it then, and he admired it now.

He would hesitate, and it would remind them of everything he had lost. He would hesitate with his gun, and Morgan would panic because they had lost Gideon to the job, they couldn’t lose him too. He would hesitate with his pen, and Reid would frown, because Hotch’s reports were used for the trainees as perfect examples, and every word that he wrote himself was modelled after the reports from Hotch he had read after starting.

He would hesitate to touch his son and JJ would weep inside because she knew what it was like to be a child and to have a parent that wasn’t quite whole, knowing that there was nothing you could do to fix the situation because you weren’t the person they wanted.

There would be a slight clearing of his throat before he addressed the team about a case involving mothers, women, children, blondes. He would turn away, and one hand would quickly and furiously wipe at his eyes, before he turned back and acted like he was made of steel.

They would all see him reach for his phone on the harder cases, then freeze and place his hand elsewhere like his pocket was burning him. Dave, Derek, and even JJ would try and mention it, but Aaron always acted like he had no idea what they were talking about. Spencer and Penelope can’t even try and ask how he is before he starts distracting them with some random knowledge about their interests.

Neither genius is oblivious to what he was trying to do. They pretend to be for his sake.

Aaron’s sadness is not the explosion of grief the shows and movies had taught them to prepare for. It is not the beautiful road to healing the poems had caused them to hope for. It is not the simple and painless, cured by a single sleep event the books always make it out to be.

Aaron’s sadness is tired eyes, dark circles, shaking hands. It is sobs stifled at the most random and unplanned time. It is blank stares during conversations and it is slight smiles that expose his brain as being a million miles away. It is the sight of his left hand with a tan line where the ring had been removed two years ago.

It is the team, the family that wants nothing more to fix everything and make him better, having no idea what they are meant to do to help the man that has always held them and cradled them and protected them. It is them feeling like they have made a mistake with every unanswered text. It is the bitter acceptance that all they can do is hold him together until he is ready to take the first step.

It is Aaron Hotchner, not even knowing what he needs anymore and being too afraid to ask for words of assurance and love. It is Aaron Hotchner wearing his wedding ring to feel like a piece of Haley is still real and alive. It is Aaron Hotchner feeling lost and angry and numb and bitter and relieved all at once.

It is all of this. And yet somehow, it is still quiet.

#criminal minds #criminal minds fic #aaron hotchner #sad aaron hotchner #hurt aaron hotchner #hotch angst #hotch whump #tw grief #tw death #how the fuck do you tag things #sumayyah writes cm

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princesscas · 3 years

Note

hey again mandy!! i was wondering if you could rec some fluffy destiel fics? just your favorite ones if you’ve got some, either fluffy or angsty! i’d love to add some diversity to my bookmark list ☺️💕

Ooohh yeah! You sent this right as an anon sent the same request :3

Anon: I have seen your answer to an anon and now I want you to do a list of your favorite destiel fics please!! I just need to read fluffy fics but I also want some that have very good plot and also good portray of the characters but with a happy ending i can’t stomach more sadness. Thanks!! By the way for these who haven’t read it I want to recommend a very good fic call I don’t care where you been.

So I’m not too big on angst, like yes I do love angst, it can be good for the plot/character development/etc, but sometimes too much angst is well, too much for me to handle lol. Fluff is my bread and butter when it comes to not only writing, but reading. It can do me no harm, besides making my cheeks hurt from smiling so dang much!

So here is my list of fluffy, plotty, longfics! These are pretty old, because I haven’t been in the market for any destiel longfic in the recent years, besides oneshots and a few WIPs here and there. (i’m still neck deep into the stucky dumpster lol) 6 canon fics and 6 AU’s :D

CANON

Professional Couple Only by saltyfeathers (Fake/Pretend Relationship) - There's a haunted apartment building in Vermont, and the ad says "Professional couple only". Dean and Cas rise to the occasion.

The Silence Between Heartbeats by yesmsmoran (elliedew) (2x20 AU) - "Fic that replaces Carmen with Cas. And then, when Dean wakes up and he meets Cas for the first time he freaks out because it's the only man he's ever loved and he's so confused as to how he can be real when he obviously had to be something the djinn created."

i wanna see your animal side by microcomets (Animal Transformation) - Dean gets attached to a dark-haired, blue-eyed kitten. He hates cats, so he can't really say why.

Just To Make You See by youaresunlight (Mutual Pining) - “I’ve been reading,” Cas explains, lifting his coat to reach for something inside. It’s another magazine but not one about nature or economics. It’s a GQ with a suave male celebrity gracing the cover. “There’s an article in here that gives advice to those who are ‘seeking to escape the friend zone.’”

And I Will Walk On Water by tracy_loo_who (Post-S4) - This fic is set after season 4 and totals ~122,600 words. It's a story about friendship and love, recovery and trust, free will, and Dean and Castiel's journey through it all. It's also about chocolate and hugs. If you read it, I really hope you enjoy it. ♥

Broadway Musical by Griftings (HILLARIOUS GO READ IT) - This is the day that marked the Holy and Blessed Union of Dean Winchester and Jo Harvelle.The merging of prominent bloodlines is always a grand occurrence, but breeding pedigree hunter families like Winchester and Harvelle is something to be rejoiced. It is also something to be meticulously planned, which thankfully the Host is very good at.Or, the romantic comedy where Dean Winchester and Jo Harvelle are destined to get married, Castiel is given the task of playing matchmaker and fails terribly, the entire Heavenly Host becomes a sitcom audience, God warns against male pregnancy, and Jimmy Novak is incredibly unimpressed with angels in general.

a world above water by museaway (Fairy Tale AU) - Castiel’s hope for freedom is threatened by a chance encounter with the Crowned Prince of Lawrence, who is trying to avoid an arranged marriage

To Find a Family by linasane (Kid Fic, Domestic) - When Dean's little brother gets taken away, he's expecting the fight that ensues. He's expecting the stress that comes from separation, expecting to do all he can to get Sammy back from whatever awful foster family he's been placed with. He's not expecting Castiel Novak. (Castiel, in turn, isn't expecting his first foster child - five years old and angry - to be the one that leads him to the family he's always wanted, but life has a funny way of working itself out).

Shorten the Distance by GhostGarrison (Online/Long Distance Relationship) - "Nerdytr3nchcoat" and "Impala67" weren't looking for romance on the dating website called 'dateangels.com'. Castiel was looking for friends and Dean was just looking to get his nagging brother off his back. What they didn't expect to find was each other. [a long distance, online relationship fic]

Cooking with Gas by WinJennster (Food Network/Chef!Cas) - Castiel Novak has it all. He's rich, famous, has a top rated cooking show and restaurant, drives an expensive car and wears Armani. His producer throws a contest to spend a day with Chef Novak, cooking and learning techniques. Castiel wants no part of it, but Balthazar insists and Castiel will do as expected. What Castiel wasn't expecting was to fall head over heels for the winner. Dean Winchester hasn't had a successful relationship in his 34 years on Earth. He's got a past he'd like to keep hidden, and his life rotates around his family and his business. Winning a contest to spend a day with his favorite TV chef is a shock, but a welcome diversion from his day to day life...until he meets the guy, and he turns out to be a big jerk. Dean figures he should have expected that. What he wasn't expecting was that same gorgeous blue-eyed man to sweep in and shake up his entire world.

Life In Pink by youaresunlight (Kid Fic - SO FLUFF) - At just 33 years old, Dean Winchester is one of the most sought-after wedding planners in the city. He’s chased his dream ever since he was a kid and is now on the brink of making partner at his firm. But the wedding that’ll make or break his promotion? Is his best friend Dr. Castiel Novak’s. It’s going to be the event of the season - unlimited budget, no expense spared - and it’s the kind of task that Dean has been waiting for… except he’s hopelessly in love with Cas.

Kiss the Baker by Ltleflrt (Bakery AU) - Jo is pregnant and craving something a little bit unusual. When she sends Dean on a mission to find her some chocolate cake donuts with bacon sprinkles, he's sure that he'll fail. Luckily his partner Benny comes to his rescue and introduces him to a quirky little bakery that sells all kinds of weird (and delicious!) baked goods. And they do special orders!Dean finds excuses to keep going back, and Castiel finds excuses to keep giving him special treats.

And I believe this is the fic Anon was referring to: don't care where you've been by thanks_tacos (A/B/O) Dean's life is finally changing. After years of enduring Alastair's abuse, the alpha dies and Dean's married off to the next alpha the system pairs him with - Castiel. The man is strange and distant, but not exactly bad, and Dean's determined to be on his best behavior and not mess up the chance he was given. Soon enough, though, he fucks up anyway and has to call the alpha for help.Castiel's lived his entire life without an omega by his side, and he was fine with that. He doesn't know how to proceed once he's suddenly married to a beautiful man who's obviously been through a lot. Omegas were always a confusing subject to him, so he tries not to interfere much - neither of them is there by their choice. But when Dean calls for help, he understands he's going to have to set some things straight and engage more.

#destiel #destiel fanfic #destiel fic rec #my ficrec #mandy answers stuffs #hbalbat

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demonologistfucker · 3 years

Text

WIP Angel MC! x Obey Me pt 2

Part Two - The Museum date with Satan. This is just a ruff of what I got so far. I am enjoying this but i Haven’t had a lot of focus for writing. So I just wanna share what I got so far.

Step into the shoes of an intellectual. I know they are uncomfortable, but these are cushioned with a bias outside human prejudice. They have their own prejudices of course, it’s just not As silly as a humans…. Either way, it’s a different way of looking at history. There is no need to keep colonial powers looking refined and noble.

This museum is not full of anything Real. They are all magical replicas of artifacts long burned, brutalized and forgotten. While it could be enlightening to a great deal of humanity. The plaques mainly speak of the demons who worked along with those doing the burning. It left a rather sick feeling in the angel’s stomach. While showing off the great wonder that was ruined. People still boasted about causing the burning.

Satan did a better job explaining the history. He was detached. Thinking about the matter as a history, and could talk about it easily. Yet when he turned to MC. They had tears in their eyes. Thinking of what it felt like to just be a people, and slaughtered for living. The Angel felt the reality. Both marveling at the people who could create such art and monuments, and the utter despair at how this art came to the Angel’s eyes. So Eventually the Angel started to tune out the world around them, and focused more on their guide. A stranger who was still linked arms with MC.

“I have a question,” MC looks up into Satan’s eyes.

“I might have an answer,” The corner of Satan’s mouth pulled into a sharp smile.

“Do you view angels and demons as enemies?” MC watches Satan’s face closely. His eyebrows shot up for only a second. A brief flash of surprise, and then quickly to thought. His gaze drifting upwards as he rolled the matter over in his mind.

“I think about this a lot, actually,” Satan rubs his chin. “I’m unsure. We are certainly told that we are opposites, but if we looked at the data, I think we’d find something else.” Satan chews on the thought, “There is a whole research of study on whether good even exists, yet there is a realm that claims to obtain All Good. Or define what it is. Which is just ridiculous, and as you can see.” Satan puts a hand on his chest. “Demons are not raging beasts. Sin has its place in reality. Too much of it would be disastrous, true, but not enough would also be a problem.” Satan kept his gaze away from the Angel. Not truly wanting to see them get upset about his stance.

“Can you give me an example?” MC tilts their head. “No one’s talked about sin like that before.”

“Well… Let’s use wrath. Wrath being deemed a sin which is reasonable at first. Being angry and destructive is not helpful. However, wrath has been brought out to protect children, or to fight for justice. Wrath without thought is bad, but it is not bad in itself.” Satan glances at MC to see their expression. Then stays when he sees that MC is thinking it over.

“What matters is how it’s used.” MC says softly. To which Satan nods. “There are plenty of supposedly holy people who are really cruel to keep their virtues.” Now both MC and Satan are sharing a smile. “Some of those people really are the worst. They manage to live up to His standards and yet are still-” MC grits their teeth.

“Bastards? Fuckers?” Satan tries to keep a helpful face, but can’t help the corner of his mouth twitch up.

“Yes!” MC shakes their head to let out some frustration. “Then they summon me to bring them to the bathhouse.”

“You have to bring humans to bathhouses?”

“Where ever they want to go. It is their ‘paradise’ after all, and since I’m not a high ranking angel, so I’m basically supposed to care take for whatever human souls are around me.”

“That sounds… Infuriating.” Satan says politely. He’s overjoyed to see the Angel seething with annoyance, but then something drowns it out. Their face falls and goes back to a placid expression.

“It’s the duty of an angel.” MC’s voice is dryer than before.

“Hmm…” Satan realizes he shouldn’t be staring at the Angel and looks back to whatever exhibit they had landed in front of. “Do you like your duties?”

“Do you like yours?” The Angel looks blankly ahead.

“Ours are very different. I simply Am the avatar. I can spend my days reading and be finishing my duty.”

“Really?” MC looks up in surprises.

“Well, sorta of,” Satan chuckles. “I have RAD duties I can’t get out of, But that’s my choice in the end. I respect Diavolo enough to agree to his leadership, and RAD is his domain, so I do it for him.” Satan shrugs. “They don’t take up too much time for an immortal anyways.”

“That’s… so different from Heaven. I get maybe five hours to myself a day?” MC can’t even give an accurate number. Keeping track just makes it worse. “It’s all preselected work, too. We have no choice it what domains we’re put under.”

“No choice at all?”

“Supposedly it’s from the Divine plan,” MC rolls their eyes. “But I’m unsure of it.”

“No plan is ever perfect, let alone one made from one mind alone.” Even as Satan says this, he is prepared for a fight. His few conversations with angel’s before him had always ended in one. Angels devoted their existences to this divine plan. Critiquing it was a critique of everything they stood for. Instead, MC just nods. Their eyes overwhelmed in sadness. So Satan takes a deep breath and refocuses on the world around them.

“It is amazing what humans are able to turn rocks into,” Satan looks at the old stone statue with amazement.

“I’ve tried to do it before, and I can never manage.” MC tapped their chin as they reminisced. “They can make rock smooth, as if they were just pinching clay.”

“I can’t even work clay well.” Satan chuckles. Then there is silence as MC’s mind wanders down a bunny trail.

“Earlier they said that I would be attending school, is that true?” Satan nods. “Weird,” MC begins to laugh.

“Why do you laugh? I will also be attending.” Satan says this even though he finds the whole school situation fairly fun himself. Still remembers the dinner when Lucifer broke the news that joining RAD also meant having to go through university again. They had completed their courses millennia ago. Satan was honestly a little excited. Brushing up his skills wouldn’t be the worst time. Though, all the other students sounded rather stressful.

“It will be curious. I didn’t expect to be introduced to Hell this way. It’s just… Okay, you’ll understand if I tell you how I imagine this, Exchange, would go in the Celestial realm.” Satan nods and leans back. Ready to listen. “Greeted with trumpets, obviously.” Satan rolls his eyes. “Then a personal conversation with It.” This makes Satan chuckle. “Then guided around the Celestial realm to all its numerous wonders. Shown the polished paradise where you can indulge in Nearly anything.” MC lifts a finger up with a crooked grin. “Though, you Can’t be a sinner, so you must be nice to Everyone you meet. No matter how annoying. If an Issue arises, you have to bring it up at court, and have it processed. It’s worse for angels, but guests wouldn’t see that. It would take months to see the court bit anyway. It would all be Sickly sweet.”

“And here you met a busy prince, told you had to go to school, and left to get eaten.” Satan keeps his head forward, but glances to see the angel’s reaction.

“I’m enjoying it a lot.” MC smiles.

“Not worried about your safety?”

“Not Much,” MC Shrugs. “I don’t think I’ll be totally helpless,” Then MC looks to Satan’s face. Which seems to loudly be saying ‘okay, tell yourself that sweetheart’. “Do you think I should worry?”

“I think it was wise that you asked for a guide,”

“Me to,” MC smiled, “I like your company.” MC pulls the hand they have clasped with Satan’s closer. For a moment, holding Satan against them. Letting their wing brush against his back. Then MC eases back. Failing to hide a blush that ran across their face. “ Just don’t imagine me helpless.”

“I could never.” Satan smiles softly. “I am the Avatar of wrath after all, and as I can tell.” He looks down at his open hand. Pretending to hold a board. “You have indulged in my sin at least six times.” A humorously low number for Satan. The average human indulged in it at least 50 times by their first birthday. That’s for a remarkably well tempered child, too.

“That high?” MC winces, but then straightens their spines. Remember Why that had indulged, and feeling proud of that choice.

“That is very low, and I think it would be good for your health to indulge in it a little more.”

“Is this how you became friends with Alexander?”

“It’s how I became much more than friends, Dear.” Satan puts a hand on his chest. Looking utterly too proud of himself. MC grimace only deepened as they felt their face heat up. They are saved by an alert on Satan’s D.D.D. “I am afraid I have dinner soon. Your human roommate will be at purgatory hall for dinner, though. I can walk you back if you like?” Satan looks rather annoyed at his phone, but his face relaxes as he looks at MC.

“That would be nice,” MC smiles and can feel the heat once again rise in their face and chest. “What on your D.D.D made you so upset?”

“Oh, you could see that?” Satan looks rather apologetic.

“Clear as day, man,” MC has to try and not laugh.

“The message came from Lucifer,” Again he says the name with such disgust. MC wants to giggle. “He was reminded I must come to dinner and meet the new human.”

“The face you just made,” MC has to put a hand over their mouth. Thankfully, they were almost out of the museum. But on the way on they got a couple glares from the Serious Observers. “What about this new human is so upsetting?”

“Oh it’s not them,” Satan grimaces, but then straightens his spine.

“Then what is it?”

“The process of picking was idiotic. It took four years for them to finally decided on what three humans to pick. The last one was completely random, it turns out.” Satan takes a deep breath. “I left the project after the first human was picked.”

“Who are they?”

“Solomon.” Satan says with a grimace. Left is a gentle way of putting what Satan did when Solomon was picked. The table was thrown through the wall and Satan marched out through the hole.

“Who?”

“You don’t know? Oh, right… Angel wouldn’t hear about him, I guess.” Satan chews on his lip for a second. “He is an ancient king who managed to get pacts with 72 demons, and accidentally became immortal.” Satan’s has a great number of suspicions about Solomon. There are barely any humans who have One pact with a demon. Yet this human managed to get 72, and immortality. While also maintaining a beloved relationship with a great number of people. To Satan, this reeked of evil in hiding. “He’s also a super powerful wizard and has gone through the university magic program so many times he rewrote a portion of it.”

“So that’s who they picked to show off the magical prowess, huh?”

“It doesn’t even work,” Satan groans. Satan had sat through hours of meetings debating which humans to brings, and how their presence would affect the experience for Other humans in the trip. They fisted wanted a human who had some understanding of the magical to be a grounding force for the other two. Satan had many suggestions of Other magicians who could do a job. Magicians who did have 72 pacts with demons. One of whom being his younger Sibling. “We should have picked a human who could actually use the program. He was a powerful magician before coming to our school. He used it to have fun and meet people.“

“So he’s open to fun?” MC bounces slightly as they walk.

“He can be… but he’s often looking out for himself first.” Since Satan so clearly distrusts Solomon. MC chooses to ignore this, and instead is excited to meet this weird wizard.

“Ah, prioritizing ones own needs. The gift of the ego… that we all have.” MC smirks. Feeling that MC was poking fun at Satan. He bristled and turned a lovely read.

“It’s not just ego,” Satan huffs. “How could he make so many pacts without being devious?”

“I don’t know,” MC shrugs. “Have you asked him?”

“No,” Satan looks aghast. “He’s a cunning being, I can’t just ask him.”

“I’ve heard cunning humans can be the most fun,” MC is now starting to walk back to campus with a little more speed.

“Who would say that?” Satan looks bewildered at the little angel.

“Simeon,” MC says, unbothered by Satan’s judgement.

“He enjoys Lucifer’s company, I would not blindly trust Simeon’s taste.” Satan’s lip curls upward when he mentions Lucifer. MC thought on the matter. Simeon had given Lucifer a hug. When it was rather clear that Lucifer was Not a hugger.

“Do you know if Simeon and Lucifer know each other? I’ve never heard Simeon talk about him, but it’s also frowned upon to talk about him in general.”

“I wouldn’t know, but Lucifer did spend the most time in heaven out of all of us,”

“Ah, who’s Us?”

“Oh my brothers,” Satan sighs, “They might know if Simeon and Lucifer have a history, but I won’t be asking for you.”

“That’s fair,” MC nods.

“Do they not talk about the revolution in the celestial realm?”

“Only brief mention. He doesn’t like it being brought up so… most just avoid the topic. I really don’t know much about it.”

“Hmm,” Satan frowns. He didn’t want to strike Lucifer’s ego, but what he did is important history. “I might have some history books you could borrow if you’d like.” It was strange being confronted with the Angel’s reality. Satan couldn’t imagine a life without living in the shadow of that revolution. His exists was born from its grief and agony, and this Angel knew of it only in passing. Did that mean they didn’t know his history at all?

“Oh, that would be nice, but” The Angel blushes and closes their eyes.” I’m not the best of readers. My eyes get distracted?”

“I have heard of conditions similar to that,” Satan nods, “Well the topic is a heavy one, but if you wanted I could explain our side of the history some time.” They were now walking down the path to Purgatory hall. Satan felt is stomach dip at the thought of leaving. Next would be a dinner of more polite conversation. With the chance, he’d be living with two new assholes now. “If you wanted I could put my contact in your D.D.D. That way we can schedule, and If you need a guide again-” His words faltered as the blush becomes too hot.

“I would like that very much.” MC Smiles and hands over their D.D.D.

“Oh-” Satan just finished it with a smile, and then takes the D.D.D. With thin fingers he types it all in. “I do have a schedule, so I can’t be your guide always but,” Satan looks into the Angel’s eyes, and feels his heart get stuck in his throat. “Don’t be afraid to ask.”

“I definitely won’t,” MC says, even though their heart was starting to race. MC stumbled as they hit the first steps up into Purgatory hall. “Thank you for taking me around.” MC’s wings flutter slightly, trying to dispel anxiety. “It was really nice getting to know you.”

“It was truly a pleasure,” Satan smiles, and then bows low to the Angel. As he rises, he keeps his eyes steady with MC’s gaze. There is a heartbeat where they are both caught staring at each other. Satan should be going home now, and the Angel should be heading inside. Instead, they both linger. Feeling their hearts surging in their chests, and wondering what they can possibly do about it. “I hope you enjoy your dinner,” Satan regrets the words instantly, but his feet are already moving to walk away.

“You to!” The Angel blurts, feeling horribly awkward, but also thrilled. The nerves of wanting to make a good impression. As they watched the elegant blond walk away. MC could still feel excitement brewing within them.

The feeling lingered as MC walked into the main doors of Purgatory Hall. Already they could feel that something was different within the building. A new presence shifted the home's energy. The air now had the smell of a laboratory. MC wandered down the hall till they reached the kitchen. Which is where they found Simeon, Luke, and a stranger gathered around the Oven. The Stranger was tall with bright white hair. The light in his eyes was unmistakably human, but something was off.

“Are you certain it’s supposed to look like that?” Simeon squinted at the Oven.

“I have never done this before,” The Strange says easily, but both Simeon and Luke look utterly terrified.

“What’s going on?” MC asks as they walk behind Luke to get a view of what’s going on. “Why is it...cracked?”

“I believe that’s a part of the baking process,” The stranger smiles warmly and then extend a hand to MC. “My name’s Solomon, I am the human exchange student who will be living with you three.”

“I’m MC,” They take Solomon’s hand. His hand is surprisingly dense and cold. Heavier than the Angel had expected. “I thought there were three humans?”

“Indeed, but the other humans get to live with the brothers.” Solomon sighs. “I still don’t understand why they get to be close to the princes of Hell and not me.” Solomon actually did have a guess why, but he wanted to pout about it.

“Do you want to hear Lucifer and Mammon fighting with each other all the time?” Simeon chuckles.

“That’s a fair point,” Solomon nods. “Not to seem like I’m complaining about being with you three,” MC hadn’t even considered that Solomon might not be happy to be staying with three angels. Now though they had to think about it. A man with 72 pacts with demons might not have the most favorable opinion of angels. MC couldn’t exactly blame him for this, but hoped it wouldn’t get in their way.

“I think our company is much better than those demons,” Luke tilts up his chin given everyone a good look of his nostrils.

“Not better,” Simeon tuts, “we our own kind of fun, and will still have plenty of time with the brothers if we choose.”

“You like them?” Solomon eyes Simeon.

“Yes,” Simeon smiles genuinely. “I am really happy to see them again.” Solomon nods, and then smiles himself.

“Me too,”

#wip #angel!mc #obey me #obey me satan #my writing

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nateriverswife · 10 months

Note

for the fic writers asks: 8, 18, 24!!

8. What project(s) are you currently working on?

I have some original stories and other fandoms I intend to write for, but I’ll stick to death note (other than Mazzaroth) lol

Mello, if you love me, don't get on that fucking plane (temporary title) – a mellodramattic college AU. Summary: “In the last month of university, Mihael Keehl has only one goal in mind: to leave the country as soon as he graduates. He wants to know nothing more about anything or anyone; neither about England, nor about Near, nor about those three years, which were completely different from his expectations. He wants to start afresh in a new place. That is the only thing he is sure of, until a red-haired boy, whom he knows quite well, decides to show up in front of his room door and return a can of soda.”

Justice Never Dies – the title is supposed to be in italian because it’s strictly an Italian fic, since it’s set in Italy (I chose it because it is said L is ¼ Italian/French and I know Italy better) and people talk in Italian and English and it’s hard to recreate the contrast I want to do.

Basically, it’s set in 2020s (now I don’t know for sure), it has two povs (first time I do this) and one is Near and the other is Veronica, which is also the head of a grassroots organisation born to assist L. This organisation is widespread and, besides all the common activities you would expect, they also manage all the information regarding L, especially theories about his replacement (because there are). Near didn’t ask them to do that and doesn’t even care that much, until Roger makes him meet them. Then, another Kira appears and so they need to work together to catch them. There’s a lot of conflict of interest though, because Veronica has actually met the first L and has a hard time trusting this new bitch.

L the Terrible and The Agent Náli on 13 December 2003 – a short fic about a former FBI agent, who was called by L to come to Tokyo during the Kira case. Not to participate though, but because she was involved in a pretty big scandal that could make her a target of this serial killer. They had a short lived past together and things ended up pretty badly, so there’s a lot of tension between them. And the whole fic (4/5 chapters) centres around this tension, which is also slightly sexual. I don’t know honestly. It all started because I want L to suffer.

Don’t have the title, but an AU in which Misora is as double as cautious as she was in the manga and gives another fake ID to Light.

18. What’s one of your favorite lines you’ve written in a fic?

This is hardd and in Mazzaroth, there are a few one-liners that I really like, but you need the whole context to get them, so not ideal.

I have this one from Justice Never Dies tho, that makes me laugh every time:

“A real Take Me Out.”

Because the date of Veronica’s roommate died of a heart attack after the show, called Take Me Out, and Alitash said this to Near, when he pointed it out to them. Nobody laughed.

24. Share a moodboard for (one of) your current WIP(s).

This was so hard too, i am not good at it lmao but I am doing Justice Never Dies lol.

the four main characters + near + kira

This was so fun! Thankss bestie

#dn.inbox

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cristobalrios · 3 years

Text

My Holo-Headcanons that I still need to turn into fics sometime and the original posts I made about them, A Compilation:

The Trouble With Emergency Holograms: La Sirena Tribble shenanigans, already started writing this one but has just been sitting in my WIPs for like a year.

Multiple Personalities: Some Sci-Fi reason the holos all have to temporarily be inside of Cris's head so they temporarily take over his body like That Episode With Data or That Episode With Seven, or kind of like That Other Episode With Seven and Doc although personally I'd prefer this to be an episode and not a fic, so we actually get to see Santi doing the rapidly-switching-between-personalities thing.

Holo Programs for Emergency Holos: Steward's recreational holo-program for the EHs where everyone gets to have their own dream job that's supposed to be not what they're programmed for, like an "if you could do anything other than your current job, what would it be" scenario. Emil is just... A doctor. Or is he? His hospital is actually a front for his secret spy base and no one knows it until Enoch spies on Emil and then the secret's out.

The Importance of Being Eddie: Rios pretends to be an Emergency Hologram that doesn't exist to get out of a conversation when he was Not in the mood for anything resembling social interaction; it was quick and easy and felt really good so he started using this excuse more, so he invents Eddie, the Emergency Departure Hologram. The Holos hear Rios doing this sometime and decide to help him out and have some fun of their own, so they take turns pretending to be this Eddie holo so people don't only see Eddie when they're looking for the captain and Eddie doesn't only leave the room to "find him" and never come back. And things... Get out of hand. Title named after the fact that this sounds suspiciously close to a variation of "Bunburying" as Algernon named it in The Importance of Being Earnest (I also love the fact that his name is Eddie, as named by @enigma-the-mysterious, specifically for the fact that it's reminiscent of Edward Hyde that this also... kind of resembles, if you squint, although the name came from "Emergency Departure Hologram" and was not, as far as I know, a literary allusion)

Hospitality: The origin of the Emergency Hospitality Holograms, an idea pitched to Doc when working on the Emergency Hologram Basic Installation Package, by his friend and fellow Voyager veteran Neelix, after meeting another beloved self-aware hologram, Vic Fontaine. Not exactly a story about our Holos on La Sirena, but sort of an origin story for Steward, so related.

The KitKats and That Time Cris's Generosity Was Mistaken for Negligence: Working title. Two things were talked about here; a Cute Fluff story where Enoch gets to have Emil's KitKat because Emil doesn't like them, but there are Conditions, and; Rios handing some things out the the holos, and Enoch sneaks back in line seeing if he can get away with getting Two without Cris noticing, and when Cris does give him another without any comment, he is suddenly worried that Cris really didn't notice that one of the holos was there twice and he's slightly offended.

Holo-ween: The Holos have a tradition on Halloween; try to confuse Rios about which Holo is which. They switch it up every time, including one time all of them looking exactly like him with no other visual or auditory indications of differences.

Portal: The Holo Squad play Portal. That's it, that's the entire thing.

I Swear My Smart Devices Are Alive: A modern AU where the EHs are Cris's smart devices and Agnes is the cute IT Tech who comes over to fix them when their idiosyncrasies get on Cris's nerves enough.

Forgery: The Holos can mimic Cris's handwriting perfectly...

Collection: This one is actually post-Picard S1, or during. Elnor wants to learn about why people have... Stuff. Just, stuff, for no apparent purpose, that they seem very attached to (read: Cris and his mermaid statues). Steward tries his best to explain it to him and the Holos show Elnor their own collections and hobbies, and help him find hobbies of his own.

Diagnostics: Ian takes his duty as their equivalent of ""Doctor"" to his fellow Emergency Holograms very seriously, but in true Rios-fashion, neglects to take care of himself. This results in the actual EMH having to step in. @talvenhenki already did an absolutely wonderful fic based on this idea that I love in chapter 8 of Voyages of the Freighter La Sirena, but I might do a version of my own. Maybe it will take place not long before this one, when Emil (and possibly Agnes, as mentioned in that version above, so that's an idea) goes to Ian before Cris intervenes. Anyway, whether or not I ever actually write it, definitely go read that version!

Emergency Command Hologram: A theory I had pre-Stardust City Rag that started off as a joke and turned into "wait this would actually be fun if not in canon, at least as an AU" - I have subsequently decided that this is going to be a recurring nightmare of Rios's, that he finds out that the real him died and he's a holographic copy of himself as a modified ECH the holos have been using to fake still having a captain. That he actually died and the holos covered it up to avoid being deactivated permanently or changed by the ship's next owner. The cover up aspect, of course, goes "nicely" with Cris's trauma.

Steward and His Roombas: I really don't know where the original stuff is for this (the link to the post is broken now, I don't know where it went) but this was completely inspired by Stabby the Space Roomba about Steward and his ship cleaning bots and Emmet taping a knife to one of them like the infamous Stabby that inspired the wonderful, beautiful fic @procrastinatorproject wrote and gifted to me, A Night at the Opera. Please go read it if you haven't (and reread it if you have). And listen to the podfic version @thelaithlyworm is making, here. They're both wonderful!

Meta that aren't fic ideas but are interesting/important observations and/or headcanons:

An Exploration of Emmet's Tattoos: Pictures, identification of whatever I could identify, and discussion of all of Emmet's various tattoos that we have been able to see on screen so far.

Connection: The holograms in the Emergency Hologram Basic Installation Package are interconnected with each other and the ship in intricate ways. This post itself is mostly a meta on the holos instead of an actual plot bunny but there's definitely stuff that can be done with these concepts.

Emergency Hologram Basic Installation Package: I have character bios for each of the holograms on my carrd that also has some headcanons about the EHBIPs as well. Carrd Home Page; Emil; Enoch; Steward; Emmet; Ian.

Also, these ideas are open for other people to steal (I would love but it's not required to credit me and possibly any others who helped make these ideas, as shown on their original posts, since a lot of them were definitely a collaborative thing).

If you do use any of these ideas, feel free to reblog this with the link to it!!

#cristobal rios #holo squad #emil (emh)#enoch (enh)#steward (ehh)#mr. hospitality (ehh)#emmet (etsh)#ian (eeh)#reference

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dutchforstrangers · 3 years

Text

Weightless - a Yamato songfic one-shot

A/N: Gosh, I should be focusing on completing the last one and a half days for Digiweek 2021, but instead I’m here getting this idea out of my head. (While writing for Digiweek I came up with 8!! more WIPs to write in the future… @digiweek really sparked and boosted my creativity)

Last night I’d sent @tangledupblue this ask/message about this amazing Icelandic artist called Ásgeir. Really, his music is incredible and both soothing as ‘hitting’. The song I attached to the message is his newest release and after I had sent it, I found out the song is based on an experience the singer had and it’s so sad… I’ve been thinking about it before I fell asleep, in my dreams and when I woke up. It gave me all the Yamato inspiration I needed.

I always find myself having a hard time understanding the complex blonde, but in all honesty I have some serious things in common with the guy and he does remind me of both my best friend and boyfriend (hence why I always headcanon him to be a Cancer Sun regarding Zodiac)… So I try to understand this musician a bit better through my writings. And it’s sad and heartbreaking, but also… you have to find out for yourself. Keep in mind: I want all the best for all the Chosen Children and thus for Yama too! But this just wrote itself… Don't worry, it ends on a good note, kind of.

Characters: Yamato Ishida (background Ishida family, including Takeru)

Genre: Angst, hurt (without the comfort), family

Rating: T(+)… or maybe even M, I’m not sure

Wordcount: 1.476

Song used: Sunday drive – Ásgeir

!Trigger Warnings!: Angst, arguing, car accident, near death experience, blood

I usually say 'happy readings', but it’s a little inappropriate. So I’d say calm readings this time. Please stay safe everyone <3

xxx

Weightless

Yamato looked to the audience from where he stood on stage. Tonight was the release of his new EP full of original songs. He had decided to take the softer singer-songwriter turn with this one, instead of the sulky rock songs he usually wrote. They had already played three songs and now the fourth would come. He glanced over to his friends, his unknowing friends, giving them a small and careful smile. Then his eyes met Takeru’s, blue eyes meeting blue eyes. Yamato swallowed, then mouthed a sorry before taking his place behind the mic. His guitar playing bandmate taking his seat on the elevated stool next to him and the first chords filled the room.

Inhale.

Sunday drive

Memories flooded back.

Like we always used to do

In an attempt to safe their marriage, his parents had agreed on taking a trip to Shimane.

Park the car in the panoramic view

Stopping for a little break they parked the car on a hill with a panoramic view.

I stayed inside, while you photographed the lake

Young Yamato didn’t feel much for going outside, so he stayed inside of the car with his dad while his mother and little brother went outside to look at the lake and take some pictures.

After a little while his father grew impatient and left the car to go for a smoke. That frustrated his mother, turning her attention to his father to argue.

“You can’t just leave the car to smoke! Don’t be irresponsible, go back in!”

“I’m irresponsible? Look at yourself, leaving Takeru there all by himself!”

Yamato knew it were just words, he had heard them a thousand times by now. Each and every night he heard them scream, yell, bicker, argue. Yamato slumped back into his seat in the car, his eyes trying to find Takeru to make sure he was safe. Standing there with the camera in hand, still taking pictures, shielding himself from the arguing. All the while Yamato still heard the words his parents were throwing at each other.

He squeezed his eyes close, his mind going both dark and blank at the same time. His hands balling into fists, sending the tension into and through his whole body. He needed a distraction too, just like Takeru had his camera. So he unbuckled his seatbelt and crawled to the front of the car and into the driver’s seat.

Pretend to drive, I pulled the parking brake

Taking a seat, he placed his hands on the stirring wheel, pretending to drive. He tried to think what his parents did when they drove and he remembered them pulling the handle on his left. The arguing from his parents faded to the background, fully focused on the speed the car would make when he would be actual driving. He pulled the handle.

As he pulled the handle, Yamato felt the car starting to roll, still thinking it was part of his imagination. Though in reality the tires started to go round, making the car move forward towards the railing that divided the spectators from the lake.

Tires turn and slowly crush the ground

I still hear a terrifying sound

Luckily Takeru stood a little further from where the car would crush the rail. But Yamato could hear him screaming anyway. He had never heard his name like that, in the most agonizing way filled with an incredible amount of fear. Fear of losing him…

With the car still rolling towards the edge Yamato tried to search for help. His body was stuck in both the car and his body itself, frozen in the moment, in the middle from what was happening. In the rear view mirror he could see his father chasing the car, failing to reach it. He could see his mother rushing towards Takeru, running along with the car. As soon as she had reached the little blonde boy, making sure he was safe, her eyes turned towards Yamato in the car.

I search for help and meet my mother’s eyes

She stares back completely paralyzed

Their eyes locked, but instead of acting or moving towards him to help next, she was completely frozen in her place. Holding onto Takeru with dear life while the car with Yamato in it broke the rail. And the car started slipping down the hill.

In that one moment everything rushed in front of Yamato’s eyes like a movie of his own short life. Moments he wanted to hold on to, moments he wanted to forget as soon as he got the chance. The sun blinded his eyes, a bright light reflected by the lake flashing in front of his eyes. Even though he could feel the car slipping, rolling, falling and floating, he felt like he himself was standing still. Unable to move. Not wanting to move.

Felt like time was standing still

Sun was pouring on the hill

And I weightless in the air

His body surrendered to the weightlessness that came with the car crashing down due to the gravity. His weightlessness defying the gravity, it was the first time since a while he felt so free and light. The first time he could leave behind the heaviness present in his life. All while falling.

Floating far away from here

He turned his head, seeing his parents looking over the railing to the flying car. His parents fading away, the distance between himself and them getting larger and larger. He couldn’t quite tell if that was what he wanted, but for now he felt at peace with it. If it was among the possibilities, in that moment Yamato would have chosen to float on a little longer, not wanting to part from the weightlessness.

Closing his eyes he embraced the flying and floating a little longer…

… A dream that unfortunately couldn’t go on forever. As he opened his eyes and was met with the bright light of the sun again, he sighed. Weight had flowed back into his body, feeling heavy and present. He felt dizzy, his eyes scanning the car for an opening to get out.

Suddenly the wreck is lying flat

Pull myself through the shattered window glass

He could feel the sharpness of the shatters in his hands as he pulled himself out. Giving him the confirmation he could still feel pain, he was still alive. He felt his heart race.

By the speed of light all his thoughts came rushing back to him, pushing him down with both legs on the ground. Filling his head with the heaviness he so desperately tried to get rid of. No weightlessness anymore, only heaviness. In his head, in his body and in his heart.

An avalanche is running through my head

Body bruised and my clothes are painted red

At the same with the arriving from his thoughts, blood seeped down from his head. Barely able to stand anymore, he let himself fall on his knees, back to surrendering to the gravity. The heaviness consuming him. His body aching, his hands and clothes covered in both liquid and dried red. However the odd feeling of being freed lingered on in his whole being.

Holding on to that free feeling Yamato once again looked up to where he last saw his family. He could see his parents bicker as if they only cared about each other and their arguing and a sadness overflowed him. Then his eyes shifted to Takeru, tears streaming down his face, but his blonde hair colored golden by the touch of the sun.

Feelings of guilt towards his little brother overtook him. And as he followed the rays of light touching Takeru’s hair, his eyes now meeting the sky lit up by the sun, Yamato couldn’t shake the longing to that free feeling of weightlessness.

“Thank you,” he softly says into the mic after the last chords die down. It leaves the audience silent for a second, before a careful applause sounds. But Yamato doesn’t care, his eyes immediately scanning the audience like he scanned the car for an opening to escape back then. He’s met with his friends who watch him in awe.

Felt like time was standing still

Sun was pouring on the hill

And I’m weightless in the air

Floating far away from here

Then his eyes are met with Takeru’s, blue eyes meeting blue eyes. His own hair now golden from the stage light, while Takeru’s hair seems dark. He sees a single tear escaping his brother. Yamato reassuringly nods a single nod which Takeru answers with a small and gentle smile shaping his lips. Soon he is flooded with reassuring nudges, hands on his shoulders, side hugs and other positive touches Yamato is unable to give, the distance keeping the brothers apart.

But Yamato feels the reassurances from their friends through Takeru, for a tiny moment feeling the same weightlessness he so deeply desired.

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fuckyeahspones · 3 years

Text

How did you start shipping Spones (brotp or otp, either is fine!)

Why did you ship them?

What are the some of the reasons you like Spock as a character? And McCoy?

Some of your fave things about liking Spones: tropes, fics, headcanons, etc?

1. I think I’ve always seen something between them in TOS, but I was blinded by the Spirk destiny stuff for a long time. The smoke cleared a little when they spent so much time alone together in Beyond. It was like “Oh, that’s cute, they secretly like each other more than either of them wants to admit. Oh wait that’s totally the dynamic in TOS too isn’t it” but it probably wasn’t until I fell head-first back into Trek fandom this past September that I went looking for Spones fic just to see what was out there and went “…oh. Oh, this is compelling. Oh, I LOVE THEM.” 2. Listen, I relate to both of these guys hard for different reasons, so their banter and mutual care makes a deep amount of sense to me. Honestly it started as a jokey “haha that’s kinda cute” thing but a few key excellent fics turned this into my primary ship. AND CAN WE TALK ABOUT THE WAY DE KELLEY ABSOLUTELY AND UNQUESTIONABLY SHIPPED THEM???? Look at how smitten McCoy is in The Search for Spock and especially in The One With the Whales. If that’s not compelling, idk what is. 3. Oh, Spock, my love. He’s so precise! He’s so careful! He speaks the neurodivergent language of my people. And even as he familiarizes himself with human conventions, they still don’t make a lot of intuitive sense to him and he enjoys pretending not to approve. All of these things are at once so, so familiar to me, and they push my “ohhhh, protect him!!!” buttons *hard*. Not that he needs much protecting. But I adore him. Leonard H. McCoy, love of my life! Short answer, I’m just such a sucker for the grumpy-with-a-heart-of-gold types. AOS McCoy’s bitterness and deep tiredness is so recocgnizable. I adore and relate to his long-suffering exasperation as love language. TOS McCoy’s hyperempathy and the way he covers it up with his gruff exterior just endears him to me to no end, and then seeing him smile just makes my entire soul light up with fondness. It’s a very superficial thing to like, but I’m very fond of the little bounce he does on the balls of his feet, it’s adorable. And he’s wicked smart. What’s not to love? 4. Gosh, this ship lends itself to so much denial and I’m not sure why but I’m a sucker for it. “Him? No way. That’s the stupidest idea I’ve ever heard. He infuriates me!” It’s enemies-to-lovers-adjacent without them actually being enemies to begin with. Something I can’t get enough of is Vulcans being super into hands, and Bones’ hands are, of course, legendary…. I’m a big fan of the thing where everyone knows they’re into each other but them. Losers. I tend to headcanon them both as more or less demisexual, which really lends itself to the “there’s no way he’s interested in me back” thing. My absolute favorite, let-me-keep-these-on-my-kindle-to-reread-and-have-feelings-about-forever Spones fics I’ve discovered so far have got to be This Must Be the Place by therev and A Matter of Trust by PrairieDawn.

Honestly, that was also me, I was like “huh these two are something, I’m curious if people ship them because they seem like a pair people would ship” and then I googled and found a ship manifesto and then I decided to read some fic and the rest is history lmao and I agree “this is compelling???” I just did not go into expecting to ship them, so that’s a big mood.

And talking about De shipping them, it always drives me nuts in a good way how Nimoy also was like “You know, the Spock and Bones dynamic reminds me of George & Gracie (a famous TV couple at the time) and that’s how I’m going to act when my character interacts with his” and then LATER names the whales George and Gracie??? HMMMMMMM???? These two really really shipped them.

Also, your post about him just staring and smirking and how much it’s so flirty…have this one of De from Where Love Has Gone :3 (My screencap) That moment in the one with the whales is SO compelling so I feel you RIGHT THERE.

There is so much I agree with your reasons of liking Spock and McCoy (and some of my faves too especially the wicked smart thing and ahhhh, this response would get long if I got into it) but that is such a good point about their dynamic being adjacent to that kind of trope without being ‘enemies’ (even though people like to think they genuinely hated each other...which...they don’t??) and the hands.

I have a few fic wips where Spock and/or Bones are demisexual and/or demiromantic (especially in a very lengthy one I have) and it’s really a fun perspective to write them as tbh. Fic is great in that you can ‘try’ out different portrayals for the characters while in some way trying to stay true with who they are at the same time and that makes for some fascinating stories.

For anyone who wants to read the fics mentioned (both WONDERFUL and AMAZING stories -- Therev’s fic made me cry and PrairieDawn’s work always leaves me in awe with the attention to detail and characterization on top of everything else) here is This Must Be The Place and Matter of Trust.

[ We’re doing a Spock & McCoy appreciation weekend, so send your answers to these questions or anything related you’d like to send! ]

#submission #andrandiriel #spones #fic rec #they truly have a compelling dynamic huh?#i hope you get to read more amazing spones fic

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dwellordream · 3 years

Note

As you’ve written several multi chaptered fics, I wanted to ask if you have you ever lost motivation because of lack of comments on a fic and how do you push through that feeling if it does effect you? I have a WIP that keeps getting new subscribers and engagements through kudos etc but my comments range from sometimes 15 on a chapter to four or five. Even though I have an outline, those chapters where I get less comments make it so hard to push through to the next one

Yeah, comments do affect me, and to pretend otherwise would be silly. I am lucky to have built up an audience where I can be reasonably sure that my ASOIAF fics will get at least say 10 comments a chapter, but if I write in other fandoms I am not at all guaranteed to get more than 4/5 comments per chapter. Some people prefer not to comment on the fic itself but to send me their comments in asks about the fic instead, which is fine, but when you are trying to get the willpower to write more, it is nice when you have more comments on the fic itself to look back on.

It is very difficult to keep writing and updating when you feel like only a few people care. I try to look at the subscribers and bookmarks and tell myself that even if only a few people regularly comment, many people are eagerly awaiting the next chapter and I should try to think of them as I write. Of course I understand that people are often too busy or unsure of what to comment; I don't comment on every fic I read, it would be hypocritical to demand that other people do that for me. But what I do try to let people know is that kudos is wonderful but even the briefest 'I liked this!' comment means a lot to the writer.

The worst for me is that often the chapters I expect will get the most comments are the ones that get the least. There are chapters of Haunt/Hunt where I assumed I would have tons and tons of comments because I thought it was really exciting or a big plot reveal, and reality will be far less, and then there are chapters I didn't think much of that will have 30+ comments. Obviously I am grateful for any number of comments and I'm not trying to guilt trip anyone, but I would say please keep writing until you reach the conclusion you want to reach, even if that means taking a break from updating. It's hard if you are waiting to write the next chapter while waiting for feedback for the last chapter.

#ask #anon #writing

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delirious-and-slightly-murderous · 3 years

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Heyo!! 🤗

So these are what I wanna know about:

Coffee Shop AU (El de MacDonald's)

Disney Princesses (idk why but it sounds real funny to me 🤣🤣🤣)

Marvel AU

(Also, I cant believe you have a WIP named after me "Kal's Dreams Thingy" 😆😆😆 I hope someone asks bout this. It'll be funny as hell to tell what happened)

Kaaaaaaaal!!!!!!!! So glad you asked!

So unfortunately all the things you asked for a VERY in progress WIPs, but here:

So the Coffee Shop AU (el de Macdonald's) is exactly what says on the tin. It's a Coffee Shop AU. The Macdonald's bit is because I started it while sitting at a Mac drinking an atrocious brown liquid that should not dare to call itself coffee. So the core of it is that Martín is a down on his luck engineer that works as a barista at his friends coffee shop. And Andrés is the mysterious writer that comes in almost every day to write because it's the only place around with decent coffee, (but really, it's because of Martín, not the coffee😏.) Here have this:

It's only 8 in the morning, his shift has barely started and Martín already wants to kill himself. He has no one to blame for this fact but himself, he knows this, no one forced him to consume the amounts of alcohol that he did. He was actually quite gleeful while doing so. Now he regrets it. And he blamed Ágata completely, it was her idea to go drinking on a work day, she should have known Martín would be unable to control himself.

And the bitch didn't even have the decency to be apologetic about it, she was blissfully sleeping on her own bed. Because she had forgotten to mention that today she had the night shift.

The midmorning rush is its own kind of nightmare. While mostly the kind of crowd they attract are hipsters and pretentious assholes, today it seems as if every couple in a 5 kilometer radius decided to come in. Martín growls as he deals with lovey dovey couples on top of his hangover. He hates the reminder that he's miserably single and hasn't had a good lay in what feels like years. The only mercy is that at least today there isn't anyone coming in with any screaming children.

He's resting his forehead against the cool wooden surface of the counter and trying to not throw up all over the till when Denver sweps past him with a tray piled high with pancakes, sausages and eggs. The smell that normally makes his mouth water now makes him feel sick.

"Remind me to never ever go out drinking with Ágata again." The younger man whines. It's not the first time either of them has said this. It probably won't be the last.

Martín groans and tunks his head against the counter, which only serves to make everything worse. "Don't complain, that woman of yours took you back home. I, on the other hand, have no one to take care of me and spent the night on Ágata's couch." He lifts up his head and looks directly at Denver. "Do you have any idea how uncomfortable that fucking couch is? My back is all fucked up."

At that moment Raquel comes out of the kitchen with a tray of perfectly golden croissants.

"Guys, come on, you don't get paid to stand around talking. Morning rush is almost over. Move your asses." She says sternly, her hands on her hips.

They both glare at her.

Denver continues on his way and Martín looks up as the door opens once more, dreading even more people coming in. Thankfully it's only that handsome writer guy from the other day. He looks unflappable and perfectly groomed but Martín can see a slightly hassled look about him. He's carrying a small laptop case and a stack of notebooks and papers.

Denver is still busy giving out eggs so Martín takes a deep breath, composes himself and makes sure he's not looking like death warmed over before walking over to take the guys order. Not that he minds in the slightest. The guy is very handsome and exactly his type.

When he gets to the table he can see the man sketching something on a sketchpad. He doesn't manage to make out what it is before the man snaps the pad closed and smiles up at him. His eyes are bloodshot and the circles under them look as dark as his hair.

"Che, you look as bad as I do." Martín grimaces.

The guy's smile recedes a little and his eyes narrow in annoyance. Up close Martín can see he's actually quite disheveled. He looks tired and worn down. Martín feels a sympathetic tugging on his chest, it's a look he has come to know intimately ever since his uni days. He finds it constantly on his own face.

"What a nice greeting. Great customer service, really."

Martín shrugs. "You know me. And I'm too hungover to try to pretend to be nice." He smirks. "You look like you need a big cup of espresso, am I right?"

The man's posture relaxes slightly, smile becoming sincere once more. He scratches at his chin before nodding gratefully. "I would appreciate that."

Martín smiles brightly at him. He definitely likes this guy.

(That's about like around half of what I've got😅.)

So Disney Princesses AU is just kind of like a vague idea at this point.

Basic premise is that it's like your typical Disney movie, ridiculous situations and all. BUT both of them are the helpless princess. They somehow save each other from trouble while also getting in problematic situations themselves. It's just some plot outlines and ideas at this point so I don't have a snippet. But another thing I know is this: Sergio is a talking donkey, and Raquel is the badass kingsguard he falls in love with.

And then finally the Marvel AU has the same problem. It started as a prequel to my fic 'Catch Me When I Fall' then became a sequel and then ended up as an actual Marvel AU. So the idea is that Martín has no powers but he is a genius engineer (a la Tony Stark, except that he's broke) who builds himself a suit, he's kind of a slight amalgamation of Iron Man and Black Widow. Then Andrés is the super powered man out of time, but unlike Captain América he's not a goody two shoes but more of a Loki type of character (or he could be some kind of Doctor Strange, haven't decided yet). Then Sergio is Andrés' demigod half brother who abandoned earth grief stricken after his death. Raquel is the exasperated government agent in charge of assembling the team and making them work or they'll all end up behind bars. The others I haven't decided yet but the whole banda will be there. So it's kind of an enemies to lovers thing while they are saving earth (and doing a terrible job of it). Until Martín gets kidnapped by aliens because of his superior brain and they have to go save him. It all goes downhill from there. Obviously as it's me, it will have a happy ending if I ever get to write it.

♥️♥️♥️♥️♥️♥️♥️♥️♥️♥️♥️♥️♥️♥️♥️

#asks #ask game #berlermo #fanfic #martin berrote #andres de fonollosa #la casa de papel #alternate universe #lcdp #thank you kal #Kal #I really like the Disney one #but it's so in progress it might never see the light #also just #IronStrange!Berlermo #now i want that #😘😘😘

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autumnslance · 4 years

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((Free Day for FFXIV Write 2020, a WIP I’ve dithered on for awhile. Early Stormblood; follows the "Foibles" prompt’s events. Below the cut for those who prefer Tumblr to Ao3.))

Rhalgr’s Reach slowly recovered from the assault as the days passed. The bodies had been buried and all rites given, the living granted their too-brief time to mourn. Now came clearing the rubble, repairing what could be repaired, and somehow finding replacements for what could not.

Recruitment and morale were low, but Conrad and M’naago hoped to make steady progress while working with the Alliance forces, as even the token victories managed before the assault had aided their cause considerably. The Imperials, for their part, seemed content to allow the Eorzeans to have the East End and much of the lower Fringes, secure as the enemy was in Castrum Velodyna.

Krile, Arenvald, and a few other junior Scions continued to lend their aid to the efforts, even as they prepared to escort the worst injured back across the border to Gridania once they were well enough to travel. Y’shtola would continue on to Mor Dhona to recover in the comfort of the Rising Stones and take her turn as the senior Scion in the Toll; Thancred was now in the Reach, since she was injured and their comrades headed to the Far East.

Thancred’s mopey thoughtfulness since arriving in Gyr Abania had not been lost on Y’shtola, and she resolved to draw the cause out of him before she left. It would not do to have their senior representative in a surly mood at this critical juncture. The next opportunity presented itself not two days before she was scheduled to leave.

“What exactly is the problem now?” Y’shtola asked as Thancred entered her little sectioned-off “room” in the Barber to deliver her tea, then dropped onto the floor between the bed and the chair she currently inhabited, as he sighed heavily.

“So grouchy. Do you also require your medication?”

“No. And I am not ‘grouchy’. You obviously wish to discuss something.”

“It is not that I mind aiding the war efforts here in Gyr Abania,” he said with no further preamble. “I am simply missing people, with so many now off to the Far East. Having you ready to return to Mor Dhona seems to have sharpened that feeling somehow.”

“I am terribly sorry my recovery is inconvenient to your mood,” she said as she sipped her tea. He had remembered exactly the right amount of honey and cream.

“That is not what I meant and you know it,” Thancred said, settling onto his back, hands behind his head as he looked up at the ceiling.

“I am merely waiting for you to arrive at the point.”

“Remember when we were all still back in the Waking Sands, and I was rather foolishly pining after certain colleagues?”

“No,” she said, as acerbic as possible. He glanced up and caught her smile. “It only happened often enough to make keeping track difficult,” Y’shtola teased. Then she grew serious. “Except perhaps in one instance, where so far as I can tell, you never truly stopped pining.”

He winced and looked back at the ceiling. “You don’t miss much. Though I like to think I was managing my boyish infatuation and simply enjoying having so good a friend as Aeryn has turned out to be. I honestly expected nothing more, and I know there was...another interest.”

Y’shtola nodded. She had not known Lord Haurchefant well, but what she recalled was entirely favorable. She had returned from the Lifestream after the man’s sacrifice, but had heard much from Alphinaud and Tataru.

“I thought,” Thancred continued. “On my return from the wilderness, that much had changed for both of us. We practically had to learn how to be friends all over again. We sorted it out, however, and talked--about Minfilia, Lord Haurchefant, and others.”

“And you find your ‘boyish infatuation’ renewed?”

“No,” he said flatly. Her ear flicked at the seriousness of his tone. “I know those; they are often fleeting things, much as I enjoy that time and company. Or, did; I’ve not experienced such since...well, since before our Lifestream mishap, actually. Oh, I have spent a night or two sating physical desire with willing company, but it is...less satisfying, after everything.”

“Don’t tell me you have become celibate.”

He laughed. “Perish the thought! But it’s not as much of a priority anymore. For one, events do not always afford the time. But mostly because...There is only one person I am truly interested in, but she is--so far as I know--not interested in me.”

“You just said your infatuation had not returned.”

“It has not,” he replied. “I have been examining the situation, and have come to a new conclusion.”

“Oh?”

“I believe I am...perhaps...falling for her,” Thancred said quietly, reluctantly.

Hearing him say what she had long suspected was somehow still surprising. It was not that he had never fallen in love before--Y’shtola had been present for those few affairs, as both critic and support--but it was exceedingly rare that he allowed himself such a luxury; she had seen him too often sabotage his own relationships, usually due to his own deep-rooted feelings of inadequacy hidden behind his charming smiles and sarcastic wit. The man had only recently developed the capacity--or perhaps more accurately, the willing vulnerability--for the deeper levels of communication required to maintain longer term relationships with an intimate partner. Perhaps that contributed to this realization; Y’shtola knew he and Aeryn had been speaking more.

She also knew a few things Aeryn had confided to her, when seeking a viewpoint with more maturity and experience than Lyse or Tataru could offer.

This was going to be tricky; neither of these dear, swiving idiots would say anything to the other if not nudged--or outright shoved--in the proper direction. Luckily for them, they had both chosen her as a confidante.

“Have you asked her if she is interested?” Y’shtola asked.

He frowned, his uncovered eye turning to her. “I know she does not care for intimate relations--”

“And yet, she has had some form of intimate relationships,” Y’shtola pointed out. “That she does not look at others and feel such attraction does not preclude a want for intimacy--including physical, in some cases. In any event, it does not mean one wants to be without close companionship.” She paused to take another sip from her cup while he thought. “If she is willing for something other than friendship, then she can set boundaries and communicate what she is able to give. ‘Tis a matter of respect and patience, which I know you fully capable of.” She leaned over, careful of her slowly healing injuries. “And I will not hear excuses that you are not ‘good enough’ for the Warrior of Light, Thancred.”

“Gods, I must be in a state, if you are being kind,” he smiled up at her fondly.

She smiled back and reached down her free hand; he took it and gave her a gentle squeeze. “I’m a bit surprised, however, that you have no words of warning about entertaining such notions with a colleague,” he said.

Now he was looking for a reasonable out; she wasn’t about to give it to him. “I trust that to be something you have already considered yourself, and part of the reluctance to admit to these feelings,” Y'shtola answered as she let go of his hand and sat back again. “Denying your heart will do no favors for your working relationship, either; it must be confronted and discussed like reasonable adults.”

Not that her friends were reasonable, but they could at least pretend for a time she mused as she sipped more tea.

“‘Tis a moot point at the moment, you know,” he said. “She is in the East. It shall be moons before they’re all back.”

“Then we shall have to keep you from stewing over the matter too much in the meantime,” Y’shtola replied lightly. “And if your feelings have not changed by the time our colleagues do return to us, then you shall have even less excuse to not speak with the woman.”

“Logical as ever. Thank you, Shtola.”

“You’re welcome, Thancred. Now, will you get off my floor?” She set aside her empty tea cup.

“But it’s cool and actually fairly comfortable. I think I wore myself out running Arenvald through his paces earlier. The boy’s come a long way and has far too much enthusiasm for sparring practice.”

“Thancred, please; I wish to nap.”

“I’m not stopping you,” he replied cheekily, hands behind his head again, a faint smirk on his lips as he closed his eyes.

Y’shtola sighed--exaggerating a tad, perhaps--and carefully, slowly, moved from the chair, giving him only a light kick in the ribs as a formality. He playfully grunted at her tap, otherwise not moving, as she lay down carefully in her bed.

She was not sure if he actually intended to sleep as well, or was simply using her room for the companionable silence and safety from Resistance officers and enthusiastic sparring partners it offered. No matter; she did not truly mind his presence--he knew she had fewer nightmares of Zenos (helm looming over her, cold voice taunting before the world shattered, leaving her drowning in her own blood) when another was near--and if Thancred sought his own form of comfort, she could not begrudge him that when their fellow Scions were ever so far away.

The pair slept, keeping each other company.

#Final Fantasy XIV #Lyn Writing #Stormblood #Thancred Waters #Y'shtola Rhul #Thancred x WoL #shippy nonsense #pre-relationship #Aeryn Striker

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