#maz writes
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written for the march foxglove editorial, inspired by this drawing by @noenoaholi and beta'd by @fish-with-more-eyes/mac
There aren't a lot of things Atsumu likes to ignore, but Kiyoomi’s abysmal cooking skills are certainly one of them. Not a single person with working tastebuds or a functional sense of self-preservation would trust Kiyoomi in the kitchen. For the sake of his sanity, Atsumu likes to pretend Kiyoomi wasn’t ordering takeout on the regular before they moved in together.
Although if there’s one thing Kiyoomi can be trusted with, it’s baking desserts and using a blender. Atsumu has no idea why those two out of everything, but Kiyoomi’s cookies are to die for and his chocolate milkshakes are delicious. He’d brag about this if Kiyoomi didn’t have the shitty tendency to mix it up and make healthy drinks too.
They’re pungent, vile and disgusting.
They’re not even easy to make, what with a million and a half ingredients and three thousand steps. Atsumu wants to puke whenever he thinks of how much energy Kiyoomi puts into waking up early and making it for him. Sometimes there’s a lump in his throat choking him up if he thinks about it too long. He shoves the feeling down ruthlessly every time without fail: he doesn’t want to think about it.
Most days Kiyoomi can’t even be assed to get out of bed until the absolute latest he can get away with. And whenever he can, he traps Atsumu there too with his stupid long legs and stupid warm cuddles.
He’s up early this morning.
Kiyoomi’s side of their bed is empty; Atsumu finds him diligently chopping carrots in their kitchen.
“Omi-kun,” Atsumu whines, wrapping his arms around his sadist of a boyfriend and doing his best to resemble a kicked puppy, abandoned outside in the cold rain. “C’mon ya made this yesterday. Do ya gotta make it so often?”
“Drink it.” Unfortunately his boyfriend’s the most stubborn person Atsumu’s ever met. He’s ruthless and heartless. Kiyoomi shoves the glass of green yuck into his hands. “All of it.”
Atsumu sniffs haughtily and graciously pinches his nose; he chugs it all down in one. It’s bitter and foul and Atsumu wouldn’t do this for anyone else in the world.
He pauses.
His mouth is filled with the most disgusting drink while the pieces click into place: he loves Kiyoomi. It’s so on brand for them, he can’t help but laugh a little. Atsumu tunes Kiyoomi’s complaints about what he finds so funny out, and gives him a little kiss over his moles.
He starts planning out the most dramatic way possible to break it to Kiyoomi in his mind. He’s a little nervous, but the urge to make Kiyoomi regret the day he ever thought dating Atsumu would be a good idea wins out. His itch for mischief drowns any fleeting feelings of apprehension easily.
Atsumu’s grateful he can still taste that nasty green drink for the first time. It makes keeping the smile threatening to break out over his face at bay. Kiyoomi calls it his plotting face. Atsumu’s more inclined to call it his moment-of-genius face. His fun face. He’d go so far as to say it’s his handsome face, but that’s just his everyday.
Kiyoomi’s never going to see his confession coming.
#i strayed a little off of the editorial prompt but cha gave us a word count limit of 250 so i did what i had to do for the original#mind you i wanted to post this so i added everything i cut out from all 4 versions of it and got it beta'd <3#it's not much but i'm proud of it ^-^#i'm really going back to my roots [fluff] these days huh?#asldkfj#right i need actual tags-#haikyuu#miya atsumu#sakusa kiyoomi#sakuatsu#haikyuu fic#maz writes#okay i've formatted this post. time to never look at it again#my fic
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At the end of it all, Carrie crawls out of the bunker. She is dripping blood, viscera and gore sticking her hair to her face and gluing her ruined clothes to her body. Wide eyed, she trudges aimlessly out into the pasture, eyes glued to the ground, turned grey and black in the vastness of the dark. She stumbles past the husks of things that could have once been cows, their shapes pulled apart like clay, changed and left to rot.
She could feel the presence above her. She feels as if, in some way, it had always been there, but the notion is fanciful.
She comes to a stop somewhere in the middle of the field, as good of a place as any to stop when she knows everywhere is as destroyed as here. She stares at her bare feet, no longer able to recall when she took her shoes off, and stretches her toes, wiggling them in the grass. She watches as the grass sways and curls in a way it has never done before, as if it were underwater-- like it is reaching for her, responding to her presence.
In a way, the grass is what defeats her. The smallest, most inconsequential thing to her has been changed. There is nothing left here; nothing left at her level.
Finally, she looks up. Her vision is eclipsed, totally and completely, by the Black Planet.
Suddenly, she can see far beyond herself. She sees it, without the barrier of a lens or a screen, as if the thousands of miles between herself on the ground and it far outside the atmosphere were mere inches instead.
Its surface writhes, coils of black, gaseous shadow interlocking and overlapping. They reach out into the space around them, shooting off like inky solar flares. She wonders how many stars they have touched, how many it has tainted and consumed. Through the squirming shapes and flickering tendrils, there is nothing. It is almost as if Carrie sees through it, through the wriggling nest of matter and to the other side, to the path of nonexistence on the other side; like a cosmic eraser, carved through the universe in a single, ever-advancing line.
It is not a planet. The thought comes to her so suddenly, it almost feels planted there by something other than herself. Everyone was wrong.
It bears down on her, ever approaching. She feels sticky, stiff with drying blood, her eyes burning as she stares unblinking. Carrie wishes she was more fanciful, could see a face within it; something intelligent, with either a malevolence or a kindness. Something to make her believe she could understand it, that there was a reason she could comprehend. She wants to believe it is a thing, and that it is hungry, and that Earth was chosen as its next meal with some intelligence.
But nothing stares back at her; there is nothing there to do so. It is only her.
The earth begins to break off in chunks, as if entire farms and towns and counties have been beckoned, called to the void's side. And they go; the pull is too great. She sees the distant masses of earth rise as easily as birds into the sky, and ground shakes with the violence of a world being eased apart, but Carrie's feet are stuck-- the grass, thick and unnatural, is curling around her feet. She watches entire sections of Earth, once so vast to her, disappear through the Black Planet's surface like grains of rice dropped into a puddle of ink.
And Carrie laughs. Even as the ground begins to crack and split beneath her, Carrie stands with her arms outstretched to either side, blood dripping from her hair and her fingers-- and she laughs, because there is nothing left to do.
She laughs as the tears track down her face, clearing thick blood out of the way in long trails. The grass curls up her ankles and the points pierce her skin.
She laughs, lungs burning and body seizing, until she can no longer breathe-- until no matter which way she looks, all she can see is blood and unintelligible darkness.
When she can no longer laugh, when there is no longer a Carrie Huff or anyone else to continue to laugh, there is nothing to witness the end of the earth. Its pieces are crumbled, consumed-- and the things moves on, in its uninterrupted path. It spares no thought to the dying or the dead, to the terrible, twisted things its own presence has caused life on this planet to become. It spares no thoughts, because it is incapable.
It simply continues on.
Like it always has, like it always will.
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headfirst by maz rome (@sicknessinmotion).
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WIP Wednesday Game
It’s WIP Wednesday, time for a little accountability, sharing your work, and getting a kick in the pants.
Here’s how it works:
In a reblog (or new post w/ rules attached), post up to five (5) filenames of your WIPs; not titles, file names.
Post a snippet from one of them. Snippet must be words you wrote in the last 7 days. We’re posting progress here. If you haven’t made any, go make some and come back to post!
After you’ve posted, people can send you an ask with one of your file names. You must then write 3 sentences in that file. If the filename is one you can't share from (for example, an event fic), write 3 sentences on it anyway, and then 3 more on another to share.
That’s it! You can invite others to join in, or just post. I’ll be searching the reblogs to find people to send asks to!
If you’re reading this, you’re invited!
If you see someone posting a WIP Wednesday Game snippet, send them an ask! Make them write.
Requested/Friend event mentions under the cut! If you'd like to be pinged next week, let me know!
Requests: @rilannon @mauvelilywilliams @skyderman @adhdavinci @owlbearwrites @anachronismstellar @anyctibius @1attheedge @whimsicalmeerkat @kidsomeday @lizhly-writes @aparticularbandit @madnessfromthemountains @makeroftherunes @1attheedge @whimsicalmeerkat @kidsomeday @lizhly-writes
Friends @fiore-della-valle @redbirdblogs @greenbergsays @idkfandomwhatever @luckyspike @obaewankenope @mad-madam-m @anonymousdandelion @geometricfractal @prettybirdy979 @eriquin
#writing#writblr#WIP Wednesday#WIP Wednesday game#writing games#I'm posting this early#to catch my australians#I see you Maz
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Put some respect on the real Florida Man
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monk maz koshia, shortly after botw: welp kids, my purpose has been fulfilled. the calamity is defeated for good. with that, i think its finally time i moved on to the afterlife.
monk maz koshia: oh, and just so you know, i'm taking most of my peoples' ancient technology with me. to heaven, or wherever. honestly these machines ended up doing more harm than good, what with how the calamity seized them.
monk maz koshia: i'll leave a few things behind so my descendants can build new, better machines, but the guardians and divine beasts and shrines and such... yeah, those have got to go. and yes that does mean i need you to give me back my motorcycle. sorry, i know you really liked that thing.
monk maz koshia: but i mean, i'm sure you guys will be fine for the foreseeable future, what with the evil defeated. you won't even need the giant death robots or laser pottery spiders!
princess zelda: so you're sure ganon is truly dead, and that there are no other evils lurking in the shadows, waiting to seize hyrule while it's vulnerable? we'll be safe while we rebuild?
monk maz koshia: positive!
monk maz koshia: i mean, it's not like the calamity was a manifestation of some slumbering evil guy's malice, or anything crazy like that.
monk maz koshia: because surely if that were the case, the royal family would have trusted their dedicated protectors - my people - with such vital information!
princess zelda: well, it does make a lot of sense when you put it that way...
princess zelda: ...alright! enjoy the afterlife!
later, during totk:
monk maz koshia, in heaven or wherever, pausing his sick motorcycle tricks to look out at hyrule: welp.
monk maz koshia: fuck.
#fey writes#long post#the legend of zelda#loz#breath of the wild#tears of the kingdom#botw#totk#monk maz koshia#i wanted this out of my brain so you get it in a weirdly formatted textpost. merry christmas#nintendo it would have been So easy to drop Any modicum of lore about WHY the sheikah tech disappeared come on don't make me do everything#fey's zelda thoughts
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*vine boom* another one
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it’s me again with another hq fic! this time we’re focusing on beloved ojiro aran in response to a prompt from the foxglove digest server (informational post here!) called “from our roots”. i had a lot of fun writing this and i hope you’ll find enjoyment in it too!!
here’s jollof joys with ojiro aran
#woohoo!#thank u maz for reminding me to post this djdjdksks#i hope my fellow nigerian skts/hq fans find this 🥰🇳🇬#self promo#my writing#ao3#haikyuu!!#hq#ojiro aran
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finally got around to making a simple spread of the assorted triforce bearers in the adventure boyfriends au!
basic breakdown of everybody under the cut -
The “First” Calamity / Continental War Era: ‘wow that sucked’
King Ganondorf Dragmire the Exalted, the Oracle Consort Dragmire, the Hero of the Breach, and Queen Zelda Hyrule the Blessed.
The ‘Smothered’ Calamity Era: ‘we totally fixed it, guys’
Queen Urbosa Dragmire (+ Crown Prince Ganondorf Halim Dragmire), ‘Hero of Fortune’ Link ( + Junior), Maz Koshia (Sheik), and King Delphinus Godric Hyrule ( + Sovereign Heir Zelda Hyrule).
The ‘Foretold’ Calamity Era: ‘whack.’
King Ganondorf Halim Dragmire, Consort-to-Be Link (junior), A Good Boy, and Sheik (Sovereign Heir Zelda Hyrule).
I know technically the ‘third’ group shows up twice, but, well. That’s how sometimes-overlapping configurations of cosmic fuckery work, I guess.
#myart#legend of zelda#loz au#ganlink#sheik#zelda#link#ganondorf#phantom ganon#demise#hylia#urbosa#king of hyrule#wolf link#maz koshia#adventure boyfriends au#crown of calamity#my writing#doing my best to get back into the hang of drawing since i've been so flippin exhausted for weeks so#infodump time i guess
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someday somewhere Andrew Minyard will vibe to Criminal by Brittney, thinking of Neil Josten, and then I'll die happy.
#like in canon timeline#like i need to read or write this.#aftg#andreil#neil josten#andrew minyard#aftg shitpost#tfc#trk#tkm#all for the game#all for the gay#like ok imagine#Andrew *points at Neil everytime criminal starts playing in the maz*#or like#singing ir humming it under his breath#neil is like super confused initially#but then just like loves it#AND SINGS IT BACK AT ANDREW ONE DAY#cause like “i didnt get sebt to prison or juvie but you did”#andrew: only because i wanted to#neil: well that still gives you a more criminal background than me#andrew: your dad was a fucking serial killer wtf?????
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omi sits delicately on the edge of their bed, her legs spread a little too wide to be natural. there's a dirty joke waiting on the tip of atsumu's tongue but she bites it back, not trying to push her luck. not yet.
she's still a clingy piece of shit though: so she wraps her arms around her girlfriend's waist; shoves her wet head into her stomach, only to get slapped lightly with the towel in omi's hands.
omi doesn't say anything, but her body is relaxed against atsumu's, so atsumu lets herself enjoy the view. omi's face is screwed up in concentration as she steadily dries atsumu's hair. atsumu wants to kiss the pout off her face and smooth the furl of omi's eyebrows, but she savours the feeling of omi hands through the towel instead.
it started with an offhanded comment, and like most things in their relationship, developed into a pleasant surprise. atsumu wonders if omi's ever thought about it before, or if she offered because she didn't want atsumu to catch a cold. either way, atsumu's eternal curse of having hair that's impossible to dry at the roots is so worth it if this is her reward.
laying like this, it's not the most comfortable position, but when has atsumu ever liked anything that came easy?
the repetitive motions almost lull her to sleep, she barely notices omi removing the towel from her head before she gets assaulted with a light noogie through a dry part of the towel.
"omi-chan," atsumu whines, not upset in the slightest, "you're such a bitch."
atsumu squeezes omi's thighs and makes a show of getting up, groaning as if they're not both athletes in their prime. it's a nice change of view, looking down at her pretty girlfriend.
atsumu reaches around omi's head and tugs at the end of the towel there. "ya want me to dry yours babe?"
omi kicks her for tugging on her hair but nods all the same. atsumu wonders if it's possible to die from how cute her partner is before getting to work.
part 1 | part 2
#brought to you by: i'm sick. i'm allowed to be self-indulgent#haikyuu#haikyuu fic#my fic#maz writes#miya atsumu#sakusa kiyoomi#sakuatsu
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WIP Whenever
Thank you for the tag @theluckywizard! ^^
I'm working on a few things at the moment, but I feel like I've shared most of them already... so here's something from a DA2 fic I'm keeping a little more secretive than usual o-o
- - - - -
"Anders."
He shifted; lifting his head just an inch to peer at her through red-rimmed eyes from across the room. Ribbons of moonlight tumbled in from above, casting him in a stark, white glow. He was so pale.
At least it was him.
"Hawke," he croaked, thick and hoarse.
For a moment, they just looked at each other. Then, his face crumpled, and she was at his side as quick as a fox.
She gently shushed him as he cried, stroking a cool hand through his hair. He was burning up, his shaking fingers searing through to her skin from where he desperately clutched at her robes.
"It's okay," she said quietly, but her voice cracked on the lie. "It'll be okay."
"I killed her, Hawke. I did that," Anders rasped.
"It wasn't your fault–"
"It was," he cut across, emphatic. "For all that I criticise Merrill, I…"
He couldn't finish, and Hawke let him soak his tears into her arms. They stayed that way, gently rocking, squeezing each other tightly until the sobs didn't rack through his body so much.
"I'm glad you're here," he whispered eventually. "Not just… with me. In Kirkwall. A noble and an apostate. You're a good face for the mages. Better than I could ever hope to be."
He pulled away a little, searching her face with frantic, wild eyes.
"I need you," he continued, barely above a hiss. "We need you. You could do it, you could change it, all of it. For everyone."
There was any number of things she could say. She could endear herself to him, lie and say there was no part of her that was doing it for herself. She hated herself for it, but she couldn't deny that her own freedom was her driving motivation; not after everything her family had been through. Even if others stood to gain.
And the way Anders looked at her. With wide, shining eyes. The way his hands still clung to her, a vice around her arm. All she wanted was to protect him.
No. I'll break your heart. That would kill me.
Her heart had already broken ten times that night.
And Maz Hawke was not arrogant enough to think her love could heal him.
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Balance
Originally written for a kiss prompt on Twitter. Anise (twigbelly) asked for Yoda and Maz Kanata, "lazily".
--
Maz liked younger men. They had a lack of world-weariness, a lack of experience, that refreshed her. Hope was a hard thing when you had lived for nearly a millennium and seen what Maz had seen.
Maz also liked men who were nearing the end of their lives, because often at that point they started to recover their youthful joy.
It was the men in the middle who were difficult.
Yoda wasn't young enough when they first met. He was obviously interested, but he was also still clinging to his misguided interpretation of the Jedi Code, and Maz didn't feel like trying to talk him out of it. He had his chance, and he blew it.
Maz spent her Coruscant vacation running around with Dexter Jettster instead.
When the Force drew her to Dagobah some hundred years later, though, there Yoda was, seeming far older and far less certain of everything.
Maz liked when a person could admit they didn't possess all knowledge in the universe.
"I'm not sure why I'm here," Maz told him, settling down on a stool in his cozy little hut. "But it's a nice coincidence that you're here as well. Unless it's not." She gave him a wink.
To his credit, Yoda laughed at her terrible joke. "Moves in mysterious ways, the Force does," he agreed, stirring the pot he had going over the cookfire. "Expect to see you again, I did not." He glanced at her, looking almost shy. "Grateful, I am, for this second chance."
"So am I," Maz said, pleased.
They ate soup together in comfortable silence. When Yoda had cleared the bowls away, he told her he'd had a vision.
"Know not do I what it portends. Believed, I did, that I knew what to tell him. Wrong, I was. Happened differently, it could not have." He cocked his head to the side. "You, I saw, with his father's lightsaber."
"I believe you've made me wait long enough," Maz told him. "Tell me about the vision after. I may be nine hundred and seventy-six years old, but that doesn't mean I like wasting time."
Surprise sent Yoda's wispy eyebrows up his forehead. His nose wrinkled in a rather cute way.
"Kiss me," Maz clarified. "And you can take your time with it. Kissing is time well spent." She put a hand on Yoda's knee, and Yoda swallowed, then leaned in.
It was, Maz soon realized, his very first kiss. She did her best to make it a good one.
He in turn quickly learned how to take her breath away with soft, slow, gentle touches.
They spent several highly satisfying hours at it. When Maz felt she could no longer ignore her purpose here, she finally disentangled herself from Yoda. Regretful but also happy, she smiled at him. "So am I to bring this lightsaber to you?" she asked, getting right back down to business.
Yoda blinked at her. He had a wide, silly smile on his face. "No," he replied after a moment, seeming to gather his wits. "Return here, Skywalker will, yes. But no longer for him, that lightsaber is. Keep it you must, for someone else."
The Force did indeed move in mysterious ways. Maz set off to Cloud City to retrieve the lightsaber Obi-Wan Kenobi had given to Luke Skywalker…the lightsaber with which Anakin Skywalker had slain dozens of Jedi in the name of the Dark. That same fearsome blade would one day save the future of the Light.
And Yoda hadn't been ready, before, but he was ready now, when Maz returned to him.
Balance.
~The End~
#star wars#maz kanata#yoda#maz/yoda#kanoda?#mazoda?#anyway...#ficlet#my writing#migrated from twitter
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WIP Wednesday Game
It’s WIP Wednesday, time for a little accountability, sharing your work, and getting a kick in the pants.
Here’s how it works:
In a reblog (if you want folks to find you to send asks) or new post w/ rules attached (if you want to start your own chain), post up to five (5) filenames of your WIPs; not titles, file names.
Post a snippet from one of them. Snippet must be words you wrote in the last 7 days. We’re posting progress here. If you haven’t made any, go make some and come back to post!
After you’ve posted, people can send you an ask with one of your file names. You must then write 3 sentences in that file. If the filename is one you can't share from (for example, an event fic), write 3 sentences on it anyway, and then 3 more on another to share.
That’s it! You can invite others to join in, or just post. I’ll be searching the reblogs to find people to send asks to!
If you’re reading this, you’re invited!
If you see someone posting a WIP Wednesday Game snippet, send them an ask! Make them write.
Requested/Friend event mentions under the cut! If you'd like to be pinged next week, let me know!
Friends @fiore-della-valle @redbirdblogs @greenbergsays @idkfandomwhatever @luckyspike @obaewankenope @mad-madam-m @anonymousdandelion @geometricfractal @prettybirdy979 @eriquin | Requests @aparticularbandit @madnessfromthemountains @makeroftherunes @not-orpheus @1attheedge @preetsramblings @whimsicalmeerkat @kidsomeday @lizhly-writes @sapphireraeburn @skyderman
#writing#WIP Wednesday#posting this early#so the australians can get in on it#looking directly at you maz#you're the australian#wip wednesday game
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Are you gonna be writing any more greg/maz fics?
Should I? I mean I didn't necessarily plan on it but I assumed I would write something small for them again. As for a fic like last time: maybe! I really like writing them and it's definitely the easiest for me to write since they were both sort of blank characters before and I got to make up half their personalities 😂
#Do you want me to? if I know someone is actively wanting more content of them then I will undoubtedly post more about them#Greg x Maz#maybe make a writing when im not busy#hypothetically#and short
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A lil Greg x Maz for da soul (they're so crazy and dysfunctional yass)
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