#fist time writing fanfiction tbh

[rosedragon328]

Hey. I wrote a thing! Made for the roll to fall in love fan zine for the dames and dragons/legendlark podcast! Check it out it's great

[preciouslandmermaid]

quiet fury in your head [ix]

Dream of the Endless x AFAB!Reader!Goddess / Sandman Fanfiction

Note: I was working on the playlist I have for this story and it inspired me to get this chapter out. Truthfully, I had about 80% of the chapter already written AGES ago, and so all I had to do was add the beginning scene/tweak a few things lol

No use of Y/N. See part 1 for all the tags tbh.

Warnings: self-harm in a ritualistic way + blood/injury + angst

Rating: 18+

(Read on AO3)    ||   (masterpost for other chapters)  

The wind gently tugs at your cloak as you stand on the pier. It is wholly unnecessary to be here on the pier, but this is how Dream leaves for his Odyssey, and you’ve always enjoyed the cyclical rhythm of repetition. You were once a trio. There’s power in rituals and repetition. You won’t leave the Dreaming through the waters, but you’ll leave while standing on this pier, the same way Dream does.

“No fanfare or farewell,” Lucienne’s voice floats to your ears. “I’m glad I caught you before you left.”

“Are you?” You glance over your shoulder and your eyebrows tick upward. Lucienne is not alone. Of the Dreaming inhabitants, you bonded with Lucienne and Dima, but there had been other passing connections throughout the centuries. You had not felt them significant at the time, but the presence of Abel, Cain, and the Corinthian proves differently. I have touched their lives even if they have not touched mine. You turn and face the small gathering. The brothers, Abel and Cain, were less of a surprise than the Corinthian who stood with his hands in his pockets and the light reflecting off his sunglasses.

“I wished to give you this,” Lucienne says while passing a leather-bound book to your hands. Instinctively, you open to see the language written within, but blank pages flutter before you like a flurry of white moths, a storm of white sheets.

A fist squeezes inside your throat. “Your kindness is witnessed, Lucienne,” you respond stiffly. This is not an offering like the times of old. This is a gift. Lucienne, loyal to Dream and his Realm, took the time to give you something to remember her by.

“I admit I will miss your presence in the library,” she says, “and our lessons.”

“I will return to the Dreaming someday,” you inform her and her gentle, melancholy smile brightens and reaches her dark, intelligent eyes. Lucienne steps back, nods her head and, the brothers rush into the space she once occupied.

“Lady,” Abel bows, “my brother and I will miss your visits.”

Cain says, “We will miss your stories, especially.”

Throughout the centuries, there had been a handful of times when boredom and loneliness brought you to the brother’s home. You enjoyed watching their endless story – the death and rebirth – the tragedy and anger. It reminded you of your sisters. They’ve always allowed you to stay the for the evening if you agreed to share a story of your people—be it the other Gods or creatures of folktale.

“And your company,” Abel says with a sharp glance at Cain.

“I already said that,” Cain replies hotly. This is their destiny, the wind tugs at the hem of your dark cloak, and I cannot stay to watch it play out once more. You have your future to write. Sisters to bury. A friend to find. A new Godhood to shape.

“Be well,” you cut in before they can continue to argue, “and I will return with new stories.”

It may be a millennium before you return, but time has no bearing on a dream. The brothers bicker quietly as they shuffle back toward the shore. You draw your breath into your lungs and briefly hold it. The Corinthian’s golden head cocks to the side and is studying you when he approaches. You taste the memory of saltwater and bright storms. You will not be bowed by a Nightmare. You exhale and push your shoulders back.

“Have you come to claim your favor?” you ask softly. You feel Lucienne’s eyes on you and imagine how the sight may appear—Corinthian and yourself standing close and speaking in low, intimate tones, as the waters of Odyssey gently lap and wave beneath the dark pier.

His lips quirk. “No. Although, I’m happy to hear you haven’t forgotten it.”

“Of course not. I do not offer promises and favors lightly,” the haughtiness in your tone reminds you of your Old Self – the Goddess of Rage, the Lady Nemain of the Three Sisters. If he has nothing to offer and no farewells to give then I will be on my way. I cannot – I do not wish to delay any longer. I have waited long enough.

You say, “Farewell, Corinthian,” and a shroud of raven feathers encircles you as you vanish from the Dreaming.

************

You stand alone in a scorched grove of ash and blackened soil. The mountains in the distance are haloed by rings of gray smoke and rivers of luminous, orange lava spilled into the valley, inflaming dry brush and shrubs, and boiling once beautiful lakes into sulfur. The sky overhead flashes with lightning, and the air tastes of eroded stone and thunder, of smoldering wood and lonely, empty grief. Your fists clench at your sides.

The Otherworld was a place of verdant, wild fertility, and blue skies. Surely, it could not all be lost, could it? Something must have grown from the ashes. Your hope burns inside your chest.

“I am proud of you, pet,” Desire says, wearing Dream’s face. Their arrival is merely mildly surprising, though not wholly unexpected. You keep shifting through the black soil, pushing dirt with a stick and kicking aside rocks.

“I haven’t buried their tokens yet,” you reply.

“You will and perhaps...in doing so…” Desire trails off, smirking coyly.

You stop and cross your arms. It’s strange to see Dream wearing an expression like this one. It looks wrong and unnatural, yet your stomach clenches as if it is him. A low stirring of desire coils and you tamper it away. This is not your Dream. It is not Morpheus.

“What?” You prod against Desire’s continued silence.

“There’s still magic here,” they say with a wink before vanishing.

“Your secrets no longer tempt me,” you mutter, though Desire has long since vanished. There is nothing Desire can offer you. They cannot revive your sisters and would offer you only impostors. They would look, and perhaps act as Badb and Macha, but it would not be them. You are here to see the destruction for yourself and bury your sisters. Nothing more and nothing less.

All of the beautiful oak Dagda’s trees have been chopped and reduced to low stumps. Some were torn asunder from the earth and cast aside, their roots gnarled and twisted, or blackened into white-gray charcoal. Dagda. your Chieftain God had a white beard that twisted like tree roots and wise, ebony eyes—a face that you will always remember, but are destined to never see again. You swallow past the lump inside your throat.

It takes minutes or hours before you find the Heart Tree—Dagda’s magnificent oak. The symbol of his power and his standing with the Gods.

Or, rather, you find what remains of it.

The massive stump could fit an entire village within its rings. You drag your fingers across the rough, dark bark of its sprawling roots and then dig your fingertips into the divots and cracks with a strenuous exhale. The hem of your bloody dress catches on the jagged surface and you tugged it free, tearing it.

You ignore the rip and continue to climb.

You claw your way to the edge and pull yourself onto the flat, spiral-marked surface of Dagda’s Heart Tree. You do not stop crawling until you reach its center and collapse, face first, into the soft and sweet-smelling oak. Your fingertips are scarlet, blood seeping into your nail beds, and your hands are chaffed raw.

A raven lands near your forearm, “Lady Morrigan?”

“I am alright.” You lie, knowing her connection to Morpheus, and hating that he might see your sorrow and shame. The destruction is real. The death is real. There is nothing left of the Otherworld.

If only you had defeated Lugh, you might have saved your sisters and saved your home. Your nose squishes against the wood, and you breathe deep and seek an impression of Dagda’s magic within the layered bark.

Please, you beg the impassive wood, please, I do not wish to be alone forever.

The raven nudges her beak into your elbow. You sense that she is attempting to comfort you and wish you had any energy to smile or offer gratitude.

************

Dream sits on his throne, and holds your feather between his forefinger and thumb, and watches the play of light on the glossy, obsidian surface.

You have not moved from your fetal position on the large, forgotten tree stump. He watches through his raven – Myrtle—and his chest aches at the marks of grief shadowed beneath your eyes. He wishes to spare you from suffering.

Again and again, he considers summoning you to the Dreaming, using this feather like a sigil, and returning you to your rightful place beside him. But he resists the temptation. He has released you and you promised you would return.

He contemplates whether or not he made the correct choice. However, as long as Myrtle remains, he could take an odyssey into the Otherworld if you need him. He twirls the feather between his fingers and sighs. A sense of melancholy and regret found a home inside his chest. I should have followed. But I cannot abandon my responsibilities within the Dreaming for the sake of a whim.

************

Your weary bones ache as you walk. The feasting hall stands against the ashen backdrop like a skeletal, black behemoth. You pluck a piece of charcoal from the shifting ash and gravel and draw your old tattoos onto your skin. They had faded over time as your followers diminished and the rest of your pantheon died.

It’s time to mourn your sisters. It’s time to lay their tokens beneath the Heart Tree as Desire instructed.

You are the last remaining Goddess of a forgotten and abandoned worship. You are the last of your kind. And you owe it – to yourself, to the mortal you once were, to your sisters – to continue to live and find a way to rebuild what you lost.

You find the homestead that you shared and it is remarkably unburnt. A collection of small animal skulls hangs on red threads from the ceiling in Badb’s room and its rich, perfumed scent of dried flowers lingers in the smoky air.

You gasp and stubbornly wipe away the tears clinging to your eyes.

Macha’s room glows with warmth, swaths of carnelian and crimson fabrics are draped over the wooden beams, and elaborate woven rugs cover the floor. You snip a crow’s skull from its thread and collect Macha’s hairbrush made of horsehair. These tokens, you think, will suffice.

Lastly, you approach your room and behold the sight of a lifetime eons ago. The walls are covered with your favorite offerings—bronze spears that glimmer when the sun cuts through the open window. You break the tip of a spear and stand at the center of your sparse room with a rueful smile. Dream’s raven lands on the windowsill and caws.

You bow your head in silent appreciation. You had sensed her vigil. You know her presence meant Morpheus is watching over you as well, but that particular knowledge is harder to stomach.

You do not want him to be privy to this ritual. Your grief is choking your lungs.

It is not a long walk to return to the Heart Tree, though it feels as if it takes centuries. Your mind fills with a certain blackly-clad dressed individual in a starry cloak and unfathomable eyes. Oh, Morpheus. Your time in the Dreaming has softened you to him. You recall how he stood on the beach framed by cobalt waves with his hands clasped behind his back. You had watched his subjects and their subdued and hidden adoration of their Maker, and how even the blades of grass turned toward him.

He is an isolated, dark star in a kaleidoscope of wonder and radiance.

You wonder if it meant something that he offered you mercy, that he warranted you an exploration of the Otherworld because he felt some type of kinship to you. Could he see me as an equal now? You shake your head. These musings are useless. They serve little purpose but to make your chest ache with ruinous desire. You set aside all thoughts of Morpheus and his inscrutable sentiments.

The bronze spear tip is warm in your palm. You were once the Queen of Raven’s, weren’t you? You nudge against the raven’s mind, feeling Morpheus there, and learn the raven’s name is Myrtle.

You meet her dark eyes and see Morpheus in them, “I’m sorry,” You say earnestly, abandoning your sense of pride for this one, single precious moment. With a firm mental hand, you push his essence from Myrtle, and she flies– startled – into the air.

The soil is waiting.

You press the gilded point to your vulnerable inner wrist. A God should not be able to bleed. However, your weakened powers are heightened within the Otherworld, even if it is a shadow of itself. You bleed if you will it. A pinprick of deep crimson wells at the slight pressure of your hand.

“Farewell, sisters.”

You drag the point upward toward your inner elbow and rivulets of blood pour onto Badb’s and Macha’s tokens. You speak the poems of remembrance and farewell in a pleading and undulating tone that is reminiscent of your followers chanting beneath full moons. Your skin burns. The ash and dirt stir at your feet.

Your bloody fingers are freckled with dirt as you dig and bury Badb’s skull and Macha’s hairbrush beneath the Heart Tree’s roots. There. I have finished my task for Desire. I am free. I am free to live at last.

Your eyes snap backward into your skull. You see stars. You see your sisters. A rush of cold air whips around your face. You see Lugh’s laughing face. You see the glorious battlefields. The ground trembles. You see, through Myrtle’s eyes, that one of the volcanoes has erupted.

The Otherworld thickens with soot, memory, and supplication.

Morpheus’ face appears before you.

“You said you wished to see the Otherworld. Not that you wished to revive your sisters.” He clutches your bleeding wrist with wild, bright, and burning eyes. His voice is as impassive as stone.

Is that what I was doing? You wonder, though your dry lips cannot form the words. An icy panic latches itself onto your heart. The Otherworld is crumbling – it is dying. You feel it. A part of you, the part of you that is Badb, abruptly understands that the Otherworld has been waiting for your return. This is your fate and your doom.

Desire wanted me to come here...they said magic remained...did they know? Morpheus squeezes your bloody wrist. But your broken skin stubbornly refuses to heal. Did they believe I could revive my sisters in the end?

The Otherworld opens its arms to you. You are its doom and its epilogue. It wanted all its children home before it imploded like a dying star. You are a stream returning to the ocean. You are a plant wilting and rotting to compost. The Otherworld cracks.

“This is how it ends. You – Morpheus – were destined to be my undoing – my ruin.” Your voice sounds like Badb’s, raspy and weary and older than the stars themselves.

“You’re lying,” he seethes and his rage is cold. You taste his fear in the wind. I do not wish to leave you either, Morpheus. His eyes harden like black ice. If he does not believe you, well, it does not matter because the End is coming for you. Everything ends. Even Gods.

Something hot trickles down your cheeks.

“My fate is yours, Dream,” you shout over the cacophony of the tempest and volcanic earthquakes, “it has always been yours.”

Finally, you understand the prophecy. Nemain of the Three Sisters, The Banshee Queen, is meant to die in the arms of Dream the Endless. This is how your story goes:

He will always save you from Lugh’s poison. You will always venture into the Dreaming and marvel at its splendor.

Desire will always find you. Dream will always release you from the Dreaming’s prison...and protection.

You will always return to the Otherworld and bury your sister’s tokens.

And he will always lose you.

You will always be dead, worse off than a shade, with your name forgotten and history buried. You have already done this and will do it all again. This is what it means to be a God. A story. A written ending cannot be changed.

Perhaps the act of burying your sister’s tokens will be enough to return your sisters to the collective consciousness. Desire said there is magic here. You don’t need the whole tree. A small acorn of magic will be enough.

Let the stories sing of the magnificent Morrigan. Let her be courageous and devious, wicked, and wise. Let her contain all the fractured angles of a glistening gemstone. And let your name, Nemain, fall into dusted obscurity among the annuals of history. It will be enough. If you can change the narrative, in this small, wonderful way, then all of it—your loneliness, guilt, despair, grief, and longing—it’ll be worth it. You mentally sing your wish to the winds.

“No.” His anger thaws. “No.” He must’ve seen the resignation and sincerity in your face. “You promised you would return.”

You hold Dream’s face between your hands. You realize the wetness gliding over your face isn’t sweat or blood, but tears and you blink them away. Gods do not cry. And, more selfishly, you don’t want your final moments to be blurred.

“It would seem I am unable to honor my promise. I hope you will not hate me for it, though I will not fault you if you do.”

“I do not,” he says fiercely, his pale hands are marred with your blood, and they grip your face in desperation as the Otherworld collapses.

A faint, white light shines and sparkles through the fissures. A flicker of frustration etches across Dream’s usually calm, proud face.

“Come to the Dreaming.”

Even at the end of all things, you will not obey his orders. He would do well to understand that.

“I do not belong there,” you say with some difficulty, “you said so upon our first meeting and it was the truth. I am neither dream, nor nightmare, nor memory.”

“And what of my memories?” He pins you beneath his weighted gaze. “I do not forget so easily.”

You surge forward and kiss him with a tumultuous, wounded heart. Dream is motionless. You groan against his stubborn mouth, wishing for reciprocation, and hating the way your heart shatters at his stoicism. It is an odd feeling to let the tears fall.

You are not a creature of tears and sorrow. You are a herald of death and blood lust. Or you were. You were.

Dream slants his mouth over yours, adjusting, and you shudder, mollified.

You will fracture into oblivion and obscurity, yes, but at least you have this moment. In an era of solitude and bereavement, you will not face death alone. The dirt shimmers with light. You pull away from him with the solemn decision to face your death with your eyes open.

Morpheus’ intense expression steals the breath from your lungs. You burn alive like a sacrificial lamb in the light of his eyes.

“The Morrigan,” he whispers your name in reverence, “Queen of Nightmares.”

************ After the Otherworld shattered in brilliant light, his sister did not come and claim the Morrigan’s soul. This fact offers a paltry balm to his wounded heart. You might still yet live. Somewhere. Though Dream doesn’t know how to find you.

You do not dream, so he cannot find you within the Dreaming. And although your raven father no longer vibrates with echoes of your magic, he carries it with him, trapped in a desperate and melancholy hope within his breast pocket.

He cannot undo destiny. If it was your fate to become ‘undone’ – as you put it – then that was your fate. There is no bargain to be made, no trick to reveal, and no nightmare to banish. He considers calling upon his brother, Destiny, but what purpose would that serve? He knows how the story ends. He was there.

He focuses on his duties, his realm, and his creations.

It rains often.

He creates a Nightmare with black, feathered wings and sharp fangs, but struggles to complete the Nightmare’s eyes. He can only think of your eyes—deep, electrifying, the amount of swirling stars within them varying based on your mood—and he cannot get it right.

The Nightmare remains unfinished.

He doesn’t lament over the unfairness of losing you. He is Endless. This is the way things are, the way they were always meant to be, and it would be unproductive to whinge over it.

He has found himself at the stormy cliffside more often than expected. He stands with his hands clasped behind his back and focuses on remembrance—he’ll recall the sublime shape of your spine, the arch of your neck exposed to him with an up-do hairstyle, the play of your emotions across your face, fierce and breathtaking, even when sharpened with malice. He recalls the way your eyes looked on that final, fateful day. The galaxies within your irises had imploded, creating a field of black holes, and streaks of warping and bulbous light consumed the darkness before cannibalizing itself.

Another day, he returns to the mountainside where he secretly witnessed your first and only smile. He lifts his palm and lets the snowflakes settle on his skin with iced, tiny kisses.

He recalls your tearful expression, accepting his scorn, his denial, in light of everything you’d done. Your instinctive selfishness and desire for survival, luminous anger, and gilded conceit.

He doesn’t offer forgiveness or mercy for his creations. His realm requires ancient laws and stalwart order. That is how it functions. But he offered those gifts to you because you were not of his realm.

You were an outsider, who effortlessly wove yourself into the tapestry of the Dreaming – into him. He felt your touch, rich like blood, delicate as spring’s bloom, in the whispered nightmares you left behind.

Your final gift to him had been a kiss that seared his soul and bound him forever.

To him, none can compare, and he aches like a man starved for food at a banquet.

He has sensed Lucienne’s worry for him. However, she’s loyal and smart enough to not broach the topic.

He knows when others are speaking of you because they hush when he enters a room. Save for Corinthian. In the days after your annihilation, your death, Corinthian approached him and petitioned himself to search the living, waking world to try and find you.

He saw it for what it was. A poor, thinly veiled attempt to escape the Dreaming. He denied him.

Under the full, blue-gray moonlight, Dream stands in a field of pink camellias, pale red carnations, and purple heliotropes dappled with fresh rainwater. He pulls your feather from his coat and slides it across his lips – a poor substitution to your touch – but it’s all he has.

****

A/N: Flower meanings: pink camellias symbolize longing, pale red carnations symbolize an aching heart, while heliotropes symbolize eternal love/devotion.

[the-inkwell-variable]

Sending hugs always!

Wing: share a snippet that you daydreamed about before writing it (or a snippet that you were really looking forward to writing.)

Talon: share a snippet that tugs at your heartstrings- can be sad or happy!

Please and thank you!

Awww hugs! I love hugs <333 Hugs to you as well!!

WING: Share a snippet that you daydreamed about before writing it (or a snippet that you were really looking forward to writing)

THAT IS THIS ENTIRE FIC TBH but you shall get the start of it because that's where it all begins :D it is a fanfiction of a role play that I did with my BFF Jamie a long time ago, and I just ASDFASDFSAFDSAF all over it. Take that as you will ;) Beware, it is indeed quite long for Tumblr snippets!

She'd thought herself used to the sounds of torture.  They rang through the cobbled halls of Dol Guldur day and night.  Screams were practically her lullabye - yet the sounds coming from the central chamber scared her.  Even now as she strode toward the Overseer's [office], she fought the urge to cover her ears with her hands.  The parchment crumpled in her white-knuckled fist. The walls have eyes, she reminded herself yet again.  It didn't matter if she couldn't see anyone – she could feel eyes on her always, a cold prickle on the back of her neck.  Her best behavior was second nature now, even if it didn't always spare her from punishment. The familiar crack of a whip, followed by an unfamiliar grunt, drew her gaze to the door.  It shouldn't have piqued her interest.  How many times had they been dragged through that door?  How many times had she felt the whip, the chains, the branding iron?  There were no secrets left for that room to spill. … until now. A new rumor had blazed its way through the dark fortress as of late.  She'd heard whispers of a new arrival, a prisoner that had slain two full companies before his capture.  Some of the orcs taunted her, claiming the new arrival would one day replace her – they quickly learned how hard it was to speak with no tongue.  Still, the stories troubled her.  They weren't beyond belief; after all, she herself was a replacement. It wouldn't hurt to take a quick peek, would it?  Neia stared at the door's barred window as she slowed to a halt.  It wasn't that tall.  She could reach it, perhaps pull herself up by the bars.  Just a peek.  A glimpse at the new arrival, her potential rival.  What was the harm? She slowly tucked the roll of parchment into her belt.  Her heart pounded against her chest with every step toward the door.  She didn't feel the splinters digging into her fingers as she pulled herself up.  Her mind raced with the endless possibilities of what awaited her behind the bars.  Was it another Manthing?  A Dwarf?  But they would be screaming by now, begging for mercy.  Perhaps an Orc from the Slaughter tribe then, or an Olog… The man strung from the ceiling certainly wasn't any of those.  He wore only filthy trousers, his upper body swollen with muscles the likes of which she'd only seen on the largest orcs.  Crimson droplets trickled over his sun kissed skin.  What startled her most were the sharp points of his ears poking through strands of unwashed wheat gold hair. An Elf… Eyes as bright as freshly tempered steel flicked up to meet hers.  Even as the whip cracked against his back, his gaze held fast.  His cracked lips parted as if he was about to speak – "Oi!"  Lûnug slammed the whip on the tools table and stormed to the door, each step a shockwave of dust.  "I see you!  Get down from there, you little pink skin rat!  I'll tear the flesh right off your –" But Neia was already gone, scampering around the corner and up the stairs.  She nearly crashed into the row of training Orcs, but she didn't notice, let alone care.  Her mind raced much like her heartbeat. They’d done the impossible.  They’d caught an Elf.  They’d caught one, and they’d let him live. She shouldn’t be excited about this.  He wasn’t long for this world.  They were playing with their prey before they slaughtered and ate him. But what if they weren’t?  What if they meant to keep him alive, to break him and join him to the ranks of the Chosen?  Her heart leapt into her throat, and Neia was forced to slow and rest her hand on the damp wall to calm herself.  A new Chosen, after all these years… It wouldn’t do to dwell on it.  There was no guarantee that he would join their ranks.  But as she began to walk again, she didn’t stop the fantasies from playing in her mind’s eye.  A new man to entertain Terion and Nîrion.  To help Alanya gather herbs for her potions.  To spar with Teithor.  Perhaps… perhaps even to befriend her. A new Chosen.

TALON: Share a snippet that tugs at your heartstrings - can be sad or happy!

This one really almost made me cry when I was writing it. I can't share the whole thing, it's way too long for that, but I'll share the part that made me weepy!

He clicks a button on the side of the headphones and takes them off. "The guys say hi," he says with a hoarse voice. "Tell them hi for me." Ashlee sets the plate of sandwiches in the free space between a stack of heavily read comic books and his keyboard. Unable to stop herself, she wraps her arms around his shoulders and pulls him close. He buries his face in her chest and lets out a low shuddering sob. "That was Zach's birthday party," he mumbles against her. "The kid under the table… that's Jimmy. We have algebra together." He raises his head for a second. His flushed, blotchy cheeks are streaked with tears. "They're gonna be okay, right?" The words leave her mouth before she realizes she has an answer. "They're gonna be fine." She strokes his hair, which is in dire need of a wash and a cut. "The cops were there. They've got it under control. Everyone's gonna be just fine." She doesn't know if her words make him feel better. She's never been very good with comforting people, let alone kids. But Damian shoves his face back into her chest and sobs freely, and she realizes it's not just the preteen in her arms that needs comfort right now. Especially as the realization hits her that it was her refusal to let Damian go to the party that very likely saved his life.

[arc-of-smiles]

Gongenzaka for the char ask

General opinion/How much I care about them:

OH MY GOD I LOVE GONGENZAKA SO VERY MUCH HELLO???? he's super underrated, and he needed def needed more duels. in my humble opinion, he should've dueled yugo, yuto, and yuri (at different times ofc). i think it would've created a very interesting moment in the show for gongenzaka to duel yuya's other counterparts.

also him dueling with yuzu??? HELLO I LOVE!!! i don't care if this makes sense plot wise, but he should've had that moment with serena, rin, and ruri too. again, him being the best friend character and having those duels? i think it would've created such interests moments of characters... and angst too. god, i love gongenzaka.

he's one of the most slept on best friend characters in yugioh, and it makes me genuinely sad. he's so amazing, and sweet.

A ship I love:

i don't know how popular this is but... gongenzaka x sawatari.... I THINK IT WOULD BE VERY CUTE!!! i think sawatari ending up with yuya's best friend just sounds so sweet, and he would protect sawatari very much. i just... they seem so sweet together, and i just wefjhbweJHWEFJBH i think they're cute okay???

A non-romantic relationship that I love:

dennis/gongenzaka!!! i know back when arc-v was first coming out, a lot of people shipped them together. but for me i always saw them as friends!! i think dennis would bring out a more extroverted part of gongenzaka, and he would teach dennis to be less... outward loud public displays of chaos. i think they would balance each other out.

also i think they should fist fight as friend, and gongenzaka would win.

The NOTP:

i can't think of one LMAO.

My biggest headcanon about them:

i think gongenzaka would sleep like a corpse. he doesn't move when he sleeps, and he's very still. he doesn't even snore!! he will wake up if anything alarming happens, or when he's needed... but other than that??? he's not getting up.

he would lay right on his back, arms to the side.... and just sleep. when he has sleepovers with yuya, yoko always thinks he might be dead. but yuya will point at gongenzaka's nose and be like: "mom look! his nose is twitching, he's breathing! he's fine."

yoko doesn't believe him... she checks his pulse every time. gongenzaka is very flattered for the concern, but yuya finds it mad funny.

An idea for a fanfiction I would like to write/read about them: (if I have none in my WIPs I'll make one up on the spot!)

i would def would wanna write a post arc-v fic with sawatari x gongenzaka... married.... and they're just talking about their past... and the ghosts of them too.

Something that makes me think of them: (a song, a character in another fandom, an animal, anything)

the fucking meme(s) of the buff guys on laptops.

one two three (the nerd would be yuya tbh)

[embossross]

hi!! just an hour ago i came across your work of the devotion of the girl in the mirror and i’m hooked. i am sucked in and there is no getting out. not that i would want to anyway after crossing the initial hesitancy over the subject i’ve only ever briefly read up on.

the way u write has my brain buzzing with colors and sending shivers down my spine over the interactions and relationships ur creating. several times i wanted to eat my fist over rindou not being real, other moments i had to pause when i noticed how warm my cheeks and neck were from blushing. then at times, which compete for my favorite, were the literature references (+ your overall writing) that made me want to send this ask. moments that helped give the characters life. what literature and music, of any and all kinds, would u recommend??

like rindou i like to balance work and life, keeping them separate, and would love to read/explore new content while waiting to see what happens next and what it takes for rindou to crack a smile or a laugh. (there were several descriptions and details that were favorites but “Rindou’s laugh is as deep as his speaking voice. It seems to break free from him, resonant and rich. Even more rare than his smile, though no less precious.” is one that made me buzz whether it’s from the progress or wish to read him laugh idk i’m rambling) GAH your writing has ruined me in the best way possible. it’s been lots of fun so thank u for writing this and sharing. cant believe i’m gonna think about coins while drinking coffee

it has your brain buzzing with colors?!?!?!?! oh that's just the most beautiful compliment my writing has ever received. i'm shaking now!

describing someone's laugh is - i think - literally one of the hardest things to do without either losing the magic that is laughter or being a complete cliche, so that is SUCH a compliment to have you call that out 😊 like i'm seriously giddy reading this whole review/ask.

but getting to your question about lit recommendations...i legitimately gasped. that's my bag. that's my moment. i need a read more!!!

thank you so much for giving me an excuse to share ughhh i love it so much. unfortunately don't have any real music recs (like tbh i live by taylor swift), but i'll give you too many book recs to make up for it.

the biggest direct influences i thought about in this story - other than the ones i quote at the end are:

Snow Country by Yasunari Kawabata – though this is a less happy outcome, explores intimacy and a kind of doomed love. (note: this is an almost embarrassing reference because I am like a kindergartner compared to his writing)

The Bell Jar by Sylvia Plath - girl in the mirror is actually a reference to this one as that was the working title. My themes about branching choices and the future are directly inspired by this novel.

The Idiot by Elif Batuman - collegiate coming of age stuff for reader 😊

Fanfiction! lots and lots of fanfiction. i reblog my faves from the anime fandoms but honestly, i've been reading for like 15 yrs now and i have a lot of fanfiction-isms in my writing. it's the biggest influence because you can't have 2 characters just sit down and talk and fall in love in published books. that's such a fanfic thing to try to capture that dialogue and process in its own right.

these aren't as direct or references for devotion of the girl in the mirror, but they are books i would recommend anyone and all deal with like love or eroticism or character in a way that i think largely impacts my writing:

Giovanni's Room by James Baldwin - I literally read this while writing the 1st draft, so I think the influence is probably there

Love in the Time of Cholera by Gabriel Garcia Marquez

Mexican Gothic by Silvia Garcia Moreno - so sexy

Palimpsest by Catherynne M. Valente - best erotic writing, not best sex, best eroticism

After the Winter by Guadalupe Nettel

A Manual for Cleaning Women by Lucia Berlin - live & die for her writing and ability to convey rich characters

The Ten Loves of Mr. Nishino by Kawakami Hiromi

In the Miso Soup by Ryu Murakami - NOT SEXY OR ROMANTIC but does impact some of the writing about tokyo specifically, especially the criminal underbelly

[etherealyoungk]

hi angel <33 its been a while ! how are you? i miss it here so so much

so these last few days ive been into hp and basically draco fanfiction.., idk if you'd write this kind of imagine but i cant stop thinking abt slytherin!jihoon and smth abt them studying abt amortentia in potion class and jihoon/reader smells each other's perfume :]] also id love if it was like an enemies to lovers cause thats my favorite

and if you need: amortentia is a love potion and it smells different to each person, according to what attracts them

sorry if that was a lot!! i understand if you dont feel like writing abt this one

— 💫

hello love! i've missed you too! hope you're been doing well <3 i'm doing okay!

also for this, my harry potter knowledge is quite limited, so if anything is wrong or inaccurate, my apologies :\ but this is such a cute idea tbh the love potion smelling like what attracts them is so cool.

pairing: slytherin!jihoon x fem!reader

i was walking to potions class when someone bumps into me - jihoon. the strong smell of his cologne hanging in the air. god, that smell. jihoon gives me a glare like it was my fault when he was the one who walked into me. "watch where you're going", i mumble. he just looks me up and down and walks off. i hated him so much. okay maybe hate was too strong a word but he was just so annoying at times and i hated that i couldn't stop thinking about all the annoying things he does. the scent of his cologne is still lingering as i walk to class. i enter class and turns out all the seats are taken, and the only empty seat is next to jihoon - ugh. i ball my fists, take a deep breathe and walk towards him, placing my books on the table next to him, taking a seat. he doesn't even spare me a glance.

today's potion class was about amortentia. it's a powerful love potion and it smells different to each person, according to what attracts them. that part always fascinated me, how it smelt different and unique to each person. i wonder how it would smell to me.

the potion is on the table in front of us, the teacher putting us in pairs to test and it out and see what it smelt like. i internally groaned at being paired with jihoon. i glanced at him, only for him to quickly look down. had he just been looking at me? i shake that thought off and watch as the steam rises from the potion in its characteristic spirals.

(idk if you're supposed to smell this or drink this 😭😭)

"you first", he says looking at me. i lean towards his potion, the pearly sheet reflecting off the glass. i take a deep breath and smell it. it smells like books and citrus and...that smell. the smell that bumped into me this morning - jihoon's cologne . and at this discovery, my eyes find him and he's looking at me with the slightest tilt of his head like he's wondering what i might be smelling. why did he somehow look charming today?

jihoon's pov:

i'm looking at y/n as they smell the potion, and after a few moments, her eyes go wide, like she's realized something and her eyes find mine before looking back down. i watch as she hastily grabs her pencil as she writes down something. i wonder what she smelt. '

you might think i don't like her but it's quite the opposite actually. she's cute and charming in a way and whenever i get close to her or bump into her, it's like i don't know what to say or do, hence i just look at her and walk away. and now it's become common knowledge that we're enemies, that we don't like each other, which is not true - at least on my part, because what if she actually doesn't like me?

it's my turn and i take a step toward her and her potion. i take a breath and smell the pearly sheer-looking potion and close my eyes. i smell something spiced, like cinnamon, and strawberries. im surprised strawberries made it on the list since i don't really eat them often. i walk towards my book and note down the scents, wracking my brain wondering why i smelt strawberries. i didn't know how i was attracted to that smell to be honest, how odd.

class is over and we shuffle out, heading for lunch. i sit down when someone takes the seat next to me. it's y/n.

"jihoon", she says, clearing her throat and that's when i see a bowl of strawberries in her plate. of course. that's why i smelt strawberries from the potion - because of y/n. she's always eating them. but then does this mean i was attracted to her? wait...does this mean i like her?

"what did you smell from my potion", y/n asks, mumbling about how she was really curious to know and she looks at me, waiting for an answer.

"um, i smelt cinnamon and strawberries", i say.

"strawberries? interesting", she say, taking one of the strawberries from her bowl and biting in, the sweetness of the fruit wafting into the air. and it's when she chews she realizes the connection, eyes going slightly wide, making me gulp.

"well what did you smell from my potion", i ask, hoping to distract y/n. she swallows before soflty saying she smelt books and citrus.

"what was the third one", i ask, knowing she didn't tell me one.

"what do you mean?", she asks. "you wrote down three smells, i saw you", i say.

"god, you're keeping tabs on me now?", y/n says annoyed and flustered.

"it...it was nothing", she says, not letting up.

"come on, i told you, i won't judge", i add.

it was your stupid cologne okay", she says with her eyes closed, afraid to see my reaction but i only bite my lip as i try not to smile.

she quickly tells me about how she's late for class and speeds walks out of my sight while i'm left there amused by this new information.

maybe i should talk to her and get to know her sometime.

ahhh i hope this was okay !!

[can0n-fodder]

Tbh, I don't want more Stargate. Or, to be more specific, I don't want anything that the cynic in me is sure they'll do.

If it's a total reboot, no thanks. A 2020s version of SG-1 would have everyone ten years younger than the original actors were, and caked in modern instagram makeup. I have no interest in Stargate SG-Riverdale.

If it's a continuation of where things left off they will either A) use all different actors and pretend only 6 months has passed, which has all the same problems as a reboot. Or B) same actors, 14 years later, which comes with built-in annoying plotholes bc the audience will always be asking questions about what/how/why shit happened in the long stretch of time.

Continuing with B) I have zero faith that any character growth that happened would be honored or continued, let alone extended. If anything, the lazy writers will regress the characters to their initial personalities. McKay will be a sleezy, self centered sexist again. Vala will be the same cold con artist she was on day one. (They already did this to McKay with his episode in Universe).

Finally, declassification. If any new show has a universe in which the gate, aliens, etc. are public knowledge, the show will be insufferable. Either they will show public reaction in a such an unrealistic way that it's laughable, or the show will be totally bogged down in Earth political plotlines and ham-fisted social commentary. Will religious fanatics stage mass suicides. Yes, of course, bc they do in literally every show and movie where the public learns about aliens. 🙄

I like what we have and, quite frankly, the fanfic writers have already continued things FAR BETTER than anything the network "professionals" are going to turn out for two seasons and a quick buck. Plus, you KNOW the writers are not working in a vacuum. They're aware of the last 14 years of fandom and fanfiction, and I worry that they would directly write things in a way to snub and/or tear down plot trends fans have created and encouraged (bc I think we can all cite several other TV shows where writers did this exact thing out of pettiness).

[whattheclarke]

Both creddie and seddie were written terribly back in the OG series and I have some thoughts. Neither pairing got a quality story line and in the end both groups of fans were unhappy - I wonder if this is why there was so much division between the Seddies and the Creddies. No one was happy so they felt they had to prove that they at least got it better then the other camp.

First, let’s take a look at Seddie; Imagine if there had been proper build up of feelings between Sam and Freddie over time and an arc which appropriately addressed Sam’s treatment of him where she learns along the way how to express herself in a healthy manner. Imagine if the show had actually explored Freddie’s feelings! As an audience member I believed Sam, but I always felt as though Freddie had never even considered Sam that way until after she kissed him during the lock in, and his feelings seemed to disappear just as quickly as they came after they broke up. (I don’t count the Sam and Cat debacle… that was pure fan service). I truly believe that they could have made a good couple with the right writing… there were great qualities to the couple that fans obviously saw, but the writers never utilised. Heck I don’t ship Seddie in the show, but I happily read seddie fanfiction because there are authors who manage to do this so well!

Now Creddie; imagine if they had taken the time to really show Freddie’s feelings maturing away from infatuation to genuine affection. And then following Carly as she realises that she strings him along and either a) realising that he means something to her and putting in the work to reconcile or b) realising that he is only a friend in her eyes and then she starts treating him respectfully as such. Imagine if after the whole taco truck incident there was actually a conversation down the line to determine once and for all if it was hero worship or not. As an audience member I believed that Carly did like Freddie, she had a number of moments of jealousy which hinted at this, but yet again, the writers failed to properly address Freddie’s feelings (After his creepy crush stage ended obviously).

I think this is the problem with the writing… Freddie never gets his moment to properly address HIS feelings. I mean male creator, so perhaps this isn’t a surprise but all the show ever does is show two conventionally attractive young girls both liking a “geeky” boy. It’s a fantasy. And don’t get me started on the finale, once again the writers don’t have to make a choice for Freddie… He excitedly asks Sam if they are getting back together, then fist pumps the air after kissing Carly. Yet again no closure is given. Freddie deserved better, Carly deserved better, Sam deserved better.

I think this is why I'm shipping revival creddie. Sam isn’t around anymore (if she were I'd probably be a multishipper tbh) BUT Carly is around and there is finally a chance, even if isn’t an endgame relationship, for dynamics to be explored and feelings to be revealed.

[lebrookestore]

Thank You and Presents?

Welcome to this semi-chaotic, passive aggressive post. I spent a good hour on this, so you mfs better read.

I've decided to combine these two posts, considering they go hand in hand, so bear with me.

I've been here for a month, and I've made so many new friends, read some amazing fics, and actually made friends with some of my writing inspirations themselves, which I cant even begin to comprehend so I won't try.

I've released four fics, two were shorter, but the ones I'm really proud of- Little Princess and Poison and Petals-i still can't believe I sat my ass down and started writing. This year has been a shit one, but never would I have thought I would start writing fanfiction. Let alone the long ass fics I write please.

So hitting 100 followers is even more of a foreign concept, but thank you so much! I'm bewildered that people actually ready my shit and the fact some want to be tagged in stuff, and the fact it's only been a month? What is reality-

And some of y'all see my shit posts and deal with me- to that I say God bless you and your patience. You have to be some sort of heavenly being amen.

Honestly, some of y'all actually helped me through a lot of shit, and some even encouraged me with my first fic, which was the start of these shenanigans( whether this was a good idea or not, we shall never know)

Basically, thank you so much, it means a lot to me, it really makes my day when I see w new follow, or a reblog, or someone liking my shit posts about simping (I am sorry my dude) .

Now, since the year is ending, thank god, I've decided to give my moots presents, since I've seen a lot of people do this (originality went ✨yeet✨) and it's also like a thank you and appreciation message of sorts. Also because I'm nice.

Let the chaos begin:

@alicanta77 my first moot, and literally one of my biggest inspirations fir writing, she was with me when I was writing Poison and Petals, and encouraged me with everytime I hit a roadblock, or was feeling tired with it. She's such a talented writer, and her series are very well thought out. They deserve so much more love, because the effort, the plot, everything is immaculate, and felix, babe, I love you to death.

@danishmiilk my second moot on this hellhole and I hate you but I love you so I guess pemdas cancels that out. She is an amazing writer, her fics too deserve more attention. I honestly don't know what I would do without this bitch, we run the culture cafe together, and I'm such a dumbass at coding, but she does it(even if she does forget to add the https, but we won't talk about that okay) and she matches my chaotic energy perfectly. She's definitely not annoying (I wrote that with a straight face my dude, be proud), and I would do anything for her so yeah ily bye

@astroboy-lele furOU THE 40 YEAR OLD MAN ON FACEBOOK- I'm sorry, not really, oh well. Another underrated writer, her fics are really good too, and she was the one who encouraged me to start the net, and gave me the idea of a dark cafe aesthetic. She helped me with a lot of shit there too, and is a really good listener.

@orange-nimon-cross I scared as fuck of yunha, but I also love her. Shes honest and blunt af and I love that about her. She always gives me honest, actually helpful feedback a d if probably the first person I'd go to for said feedback. She deserves way more credit for her writing, its amazing, and her poetry? They're beautiful and deep and ineish I could write like that.

@rouiyan MISS REE ANOTHER WRITING INSPO AND A GREAT FRIEND honestly I met her and we just vibed tbh. She too helped me with my first fic by encouraging me, and I love her to death too. Very happy ahes back from hiatus, all my fists of love for you babe!

@yvezs mila I have no fucking clue what your posts mean half the time, but I love you anyways okay, you already know so I'm not gonna bother writing a long ass para, I'll annoy you later

@heartyyjeno ALESHA! honestly, she's so sweet, and her asks literally brighten up my day. Her writing is also amazing and just ugh, I love you and get very happy everytime I see you.

@moonbeamsung HANNAH BBY YOU'RE SO CUTE I LOVE YOU SO MUCH OMG you're the sweetest bean ever and your writing is the bomb.com. I hope we can get closer, because you never fail to make me feel better, or brighten up my day with a message or an ask.

@radiorenjun angie my fellow simp and hard stan letS GO- I know she's not always online, but she's always there when I need to simp, or when I need help with important descisions (what pic I should chose fir my lockcreen, for example) she's always there to simp for ten with me and our convos are questionable (she's seen my dark dark gallery man. If that's not friendship idk what it) . If you do want to summon her though, I suggest typing renjun or ten in a message, all caps.

@channoticedmeuwu kai. *heavy sigh* this bitch is honestly one of the best people, like she deals with ny shit posts, replIES TO THEM and even deals with my excessive simping like damn what angel are you (the fallen one, jK-) she also likes simping with me, even called for help once(it failed, but it's the thought that counts. She even tried helping me when my laptop fucked me over, which, surprise, it still is, but we barely even knew each other at the time?? How amazing is that?? But bitch stay the fuck away from taeyong thanks hyuck is the waiting.

@loonacitys I MET YOU TWO DAYS AGO BUT I ALREADY LOVE YOU WE LIVE I'M THE SAME DAMN CITY BYE OMG and she matches my crack head humour *cough* tHe gRoUp *cough* so yes another amazing hooman bean.

@sweetlyjaem she SIMPED WITH ME AMEN-

@ppangjae literally one of my biggest inspos for writing, I read seven letters and was inspired to pick up little princess again after it was sitting dying in a dark corner of google Docs for three days. Alex is so sweet, she didn't mind my chaotic awkward ass, and dealt with the long ass asks and the dozen of messages I sent her.

@kdongyoung ro is so sweet and chaotic I love it. Her edits are *chefs kiss* and she made my beautiful header which I will flex everytime I get the chance. We've not talked that much, but I still love you okay.

Moots I wanna know better-@jungwooisms @du0tine @moonttaeil @fruityutas @ooyoungs

I LOVE YOU ALL AND THANK YOU BYE

[tamiettitami]

for this month's recommendations, i decided to go with the theme KISSES GALORE in honour of valentine's day. all of the below works have been posted in the month of february 2021 and hand selected by me <3

Sowing Discord by @chronologicalimplosion

A group of hyper-religious, homophobic protesters on campus ruins David's post-lunch good mood and he sends a half-joking message to the LGBTQ+ Discord server about staging a counterprotest. Constant lurker Patrick comes running.

Rated T for TEEN & UP AUDIENCES; 4,089 words; M/M; TAGGED for Patrick Brewer/David Rose, Original Characters, Alternative Universe, Alternative Universe - College/University, Homophobia, First Kiss, Epistolary, kind of

"This work features the inclusion of messages sent in Discord channels, a social media app I've never seen interrogated into a fanfiction piece before. The perfect balance of humour as well as tenderness makes this the ideal read to round out the month of love."

falling into place like dominos by @davidbrewer

Alexis spins the bottle and Stevie doesn’t know if she wants it to stop in front of her, or if she’s hoping it points literally anywhere else. She thinks she’ll figure it out when it stops moving, but… even with the neck of the bottle unmistakably pointing at her foot, she still can’t identify what the feeling is. Is that happiness or dread settling in the pit of her stomach? Since when do those completely different things feel exactly the same? If she’s being honest, though, it feels like a combination of things. It’s that feeling you get right before you do something you know you might regret later… like throwing back a jello shot (which she wishes she had done), calling an ex at 3am, or maybe jumping out of a plane.

David and Patrick hold a second housewarming party, this time at their newly-renovated cottage. For old times' sake, they decide to play spin the bottle. Meanwhile, Stevie has been wrestling with her feelings for Alexis since she left for New York... and it never occurred to her that those feelings could flow both ways.

Rated M for MATURE AUDIENCES; 4,897 words; F/F; TAGGED for Stevie Budd & Alexis Rose, Stevie Budd/Alexis Rose, Patrick Brewer/David Rose, Post-Canon, Lesbian Stevie Budd, First (Real) Kiss, Alcohol, Spin the Bottle, Queer Themes, Sexuality Crisis, (Although it's more of a frustrated confusing than a crisis tbh)

"The author's ability to voice every character (but specifically Alexis) will never fail to astound me; their inner voice for Stevie is the most notable in this work, however. Even the friendship/sibling dynamics between David and Alexis and as well as Stevie and Patrick are absolute perfection. One of the best 'Housewarming' codas I've ever endulged in and I can confidently says so."

Until I Lose My Breath by @the-kellephant

How could she have missed the fact that she was in love with Twyla?

Rated T for TEEN & UP AUDIENCES; 814 words; F/F; TAGGED for Stevie Budd/Twyla Sands, Friends to Lovers, First Kiss, Femslash February, Bisexual Stevie Budd, Lesbian Twyla Sands

"A lovely introspective piece about sapphic feelings and how they can often be blindsided by denial if not provided with the proper care or attention."

You can Stand Under my Umbrella by @agoodpersonrose

David thought the day couldn't possibly get any worse. But then it started to rain.

43. You both reach for the last umbrella in the store on a rainy day.

Rated T for TEEN & UP AUDIENCES; 2,721 words; M/M; TAGGED for Patrick Brewer/David Rose, Alternative Universe - Canon Divergence, Tumblr Prompt, Meet-Cute, First Kiss, First Meetings, Awkward Flirting, Kissing in the Rain, Umbrellas, Fluff and Humour, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, Prompt Fill, One Shot

"I have nothing to say besides this is hands down the most cute way this prompt could've been filled and I applaud Becca for her ability to write such tender moments in a way underlined with laughs."

Ten Tender Kisses by @cheesecurdsgravyandfries

Ten drabbles featuring ten tender kisses.

Rated G for GENERAL AUDIENCES; 1,110 words; M/M; TAGGED for Patrick Brewer/David Rose, Fluff, tender kisses, Canon Compliant

"Reading this was pure joy. The happiness I felt from the first drabble continued to grow the longer I scrolled which is truly a beautiful feeling. Their banter is so perfectly in character and the dynamic the author has created between David and Patrick is a skill I envy."

I Didn't Know it was a Crush, David by squigmistress

David and Patrick arrive home after The Premiere and David wants to talk more about some of the wild stuff Patrick said when he was high on pain meds. What he doesn't expect is Patrick's big, gay feelings. But damn, does he love him for it. OR Patrick needs emotional safety to process some feelings and, of course, David is more than happy to hold him through it.

Rated T for TEEN & UP AUDIENCES; 1,548 words; M/M; TAGGED for Patrick Brewer/David Rose, david rose - Relationship, Queer Themes, Coming Out, Episode: s06e05 The Premiere, Coda, Feelings, Feelings Realisation, Gay, Canon Gay Character, Family Issues, Intimacy, Non-Sexual Intimacy, Anger

"Now, I've always been a sucker for introspective works, but this took it to a brand new level. It's such a fine needle to thread; however, the author does an astounding job at cataloguing the growth/development of Patrick's emotions."

Be your remedy by @jessx2231

Patrick closes his eyes and brings to mind all the times David has put on music while Patrick is engrossed in a book or his phone or even the occasional weekend work task. Eventually, David will slink into his space, just enough to rest his head in Patrick’s lap. He doesn’t always do so with the intent to fall asleep, but it’s usually not long before Patrick’s fingers involuntarily find their way into David’s hair — much like they are now — and David’s breath will even out for a while.

He can definitely make an abridged version of that happen.

Or, David can't sleep and Patrick helps.

Rated G for GENERAL AUDIENCES; Creator Chose Not to Use Archive Warnings; 2,048 words; M/M; TAGGED for Patrick Brewer/David Rose, Fluff, Established Relationship, Canon Compliant, Post-Canon, Married Life, very mild descriptions of depressive symptoms, but really just some very soft sleepy boys

"A warm hug is the best way I can describe this. Also, I already knew I need a Patrick Brewer in my life, but this solidified that."

the paths that your eyes wander down by @anniemurphys apart of falling in love at a coffee shop by them, @thankstwy, and @landofsonlali

Written for the prompt: "Twyla and Alexis reunite in NYC."

Alexis finds Twyla at a tiny corner table.

Rated G for GENERAL AUDIENCES; 568 words; F/F; TAGGED for Alexis Rose/Twyla Sands, Post-Canon

"The absolute perfect romantic comedy moment paired with some of the most in-character Alexis dialogue I've seen in awhile, not to mention how beautifully the mutual pining is broken."

a sense of expectation hanging in the air by Anonymous (i'll add the author once reveals are out for the Season 7 collection !)

Stevie starts to realize she has feelings for Ruth. How long though, will it take for her to tell Ruth that?

Rated M for MATURE AUDIENCES; 6,548 words; F/F; TAGGED for Stevie Budd/Ruth Clancy, Stevie Budd & Alexis Rose & Twyla Sands, Stevie Budd & David Rose, Stevie Budd & Patrick Brewer, Alexis Rose/Twyla Sands, Post-Canon, Getting Together, Sharing a Bed, Cuddling & Snuggling, Making Out, Fluff, Texting, Female Friendship, Episode: s07e08 RMG, Workplace Relationship

"The support from Stevie's friends—Alexis, Twyla, David, and Patrick—is so incredibly lovely. Despite the secret crushes, Stevie and Ruth refuse to let anything get in the way of them getting together and it's such a wonderful thing to see them immediately all-in the relationship."

got a fistful of four leaf clovers by iphigenias

Two weeks before Christmas Alexis calls David.

“So I think I like someone,” she says.

Rated T for TEEN & UP AUDIENCES; 1,754 words; F/F; TAGGED for Post-Canon, Getting Together, Femslash February, home is a place AND a person!

"Alexis's slow burn of building feelings for Twyla melts my heart. That being said, the realistic depiction of the difficulties that come with change provides a certain depth to this story it needs."

[sereina-archive]

10, 18, 20!

munday meme | accepting

10. Why do you write?

-insert picture of marge simpson holding a potato w the caption 'i just think it's neat!'-

BUT in all seriousness, writing has been something I've been doing since I was... a very young lad. I never really so much liked doing things like fanfictions or the like, but I have ALWAYS loved collaborating with other people to drive a story forward. That is easily my favorite part, hands down. I have been rping with other people in general since I was 12, and although me and my fellow twelve year olds at the time had some. 12 year old ideas that people would likely find 'cringe' nowadays, back then we just didn't care! It was fun, and we go to see a story unfold in all the craziest of ways. It's still my favorite part, whether I'm rping with my longtime friends on discord with our INSANELY packed oc universe just going apeshit, or writing on tumblr with my friends and plotting out ideas. The collaborative process is just SO damn fun, freaking out with people over the PERFECT idea, and seeing it all unfold before your eyes... mmmm love that serotonin baby!!!!

18. What is one thing you’d wish to see more in the rp community?

This is actually really tough because I've been in the community for so long now and I've seen. So many various trends come and go so it's hard to say... I guess one thing I'd love to see is more love for multimuses perhaps?? They're really not that scary! And most multis have tags for characters, so if you only want to be there for One character, just block the other tags! It's just something that is WAY more convenient for people who have a lot of characters, but I feel like the stigma around having a multi is what prevents people from making one (that or the aesthetic of having separate blogs which is fair tbh). I have a multi myself!! And my GOD if i had all of those characters on their own blogs I'd fucking lose my entire goddamn mind. Just make the multimuse if you're thinking about it. I promise you it saves SO much headache, and there's ways with individual character pages you can get a funky aesthetic going!!

20. Do you need music/noise to write or do you prefer silence?

I need Some kind of noise while I'm writing. I usually put on a nintendo music compilation of some kind (like right now i'm listening to 'video game songs to fist fight gods to'). Even if I don't exactly 'listen' to the music and it's more just. Entering my brain with no real result because I'm hyperfocusing on writing, having noise helps me. And sometimes if I put on a track before I write I get the ENERGY to just go fucking apeshit!! Or even some music causes certain muses to stir!! So it's just great all around :)

[p-and-p-admin]

Interview given to The Severus Snape and Hermione Granger Shipping Fan Group.  (sharing here Admin approved)

https://www.facebook.com/groups/199718373383293/

Hello IShouldBeWritingSomethingElse and welcome to Behind the Quill, it’s wonderful to finally have the chance to chat with you.

Many readers will know you from your extensive catalogue of works like Convergence, A Soul-Mate’s Kiss, Entangled and of course, The Ribboned-Witch

Okay, let’s jump right in. What's the story behind your pen name?  It’s a simple one. I should be writing anything but fanfiction, ie o-fic. I need the pennies! Which Harry Potter character do you identify with the most? Probably a mix of Snape and Granger. Snape’s general curmudgeonliness (is that even a word?!) and Granger’s swottiness, (also perhaps not a word…) Do you have a favourite genre to read? (not in fic, just in general) Romance. Always romance. I am addicted to my Happily Ever Afters. Do you have a favourite "classic" novel? Persuasion by Jane Austen. Reunited lovers, a fave trope. At what age did you start writing? 14. How did you get into writing fanfiction? I blame Wolverine. I fell into Rogan (Wolverine and Rogue) in 2011, then starting writing it, when I *should* have been writing my o-fic…. What's the best theme you've ever come across in a fic? Is it a theme represented in your own works? The Marriage Law Challenge. Can that be called a theme? I love that, and have written a few. It’s probably an equal love with soul-mates/fated mates. I’ve written a few of those, too. What fandoms are you involved in other than Harry Potter? I’m a fairly linear shipper. So it was Rogan, then Sherlolly…then SSHG and it’s been only that for *gulp* almost seven years. If you could make one change to canon, what would it be? Do you have a favourite piece of fanon? Naturally, Severus Snape lives (not that he died in the first place!). Fanon? At the minute, I’ve read so much fanfiction, I’m not sure what’s solely in the books anymore! Dark Revels, maybe? Or could Jason Issac’s idea for long hair for Lucius Malfoy be considered fanon? lol Do you listen to music when you write or do you prefer quiet? It varies. Sometimes it’s whatever I have listed on Amazon Prime, or various rainy ASMRs. I so have a creativity sound thing that’s supposed to tap into your writing brain. It runs for 3 hours and does *seem* to work…when I remember to turn it on! What are your favourite fanfictions of all time? Hope Reawakened - Georgesgurl117 A Place in the World - Noodle In the Darkness in Which We Are Made - Corvusdraconis A Number of Ways to Kill Ron Weasley - Ms-Figg From the Corner - Coffeeonthepatio Chocolate Enchantment - Vivian B Forged in Flames - MsWhich Owned - TwilightDarkness82 Three Pregnancies and an Adoption - rhapsodybree A Witchhiker’s Guide to Beltane - TeddyRadiator Romancing the War - Pubella The Marriage Benefit - Miamadwyn The Nature of the Phoenix - scatteredlogic Vomica Domintor - Always_ss There are probably fistfuls more… lol Are you a plotter or a pantser? How does that affect your writing process? A panster. Which is why I often get to the middle of the middle of a story (*the* hardest place!) and it stalls! What is your writing genre of choice? Romance. Always. Which of your stories are you most proud of? Why? Ignis Tactus, mainly for the feel of it. And chapter 5, because of quality of the writing. It’s intimacy. Did it unfold as you imagined it or did you find the unexpected cropped up as you wrote? What did you learn from writing it? I had a vague idea of where it was going and wrote the first chapters in a few days. Chapter 5 took longer - as the smexiness always does. It was a reminder to pick out the right detail, which is a simple idea and the hardest to achieve. How personal is the story to you, and do you think that made it harder or easier to write? It wasn’t personal, I don’t think. A story is always a tapestry to me, weaving threads together to make sense.  What books or authors have influenced you? How do you think that shows in your writing? Probably from years back, Orwell and Hemingway. And a shedload of poetry. It’s made me aware of language and to aim to use the least words I can to sharpen the imagery, dialogue and setting. Do people in your everyday life know you write fanfiction? My other half does and that’s about it. I keep my fanfiction separate from my o-fic world. How true for you is the notion of "writing for yourself"? I like to write what I want to read, so very true? lol How important is it for you to interact with your audience? How do you engage with them? Just at the point of publishing? Through social media? I’m a social media hermit, tbh. I’m on the usual sites, because I have to be for work…and even then, I can happily wander away for weeks! I envy people who do social stuff naturally. What is the best advice you've received about writing? Look at your verbs and make them strong. What do you do when you hit writer's block? I’m been blocked for about 2/3 years, which is why I’ve slacked on writing, both fanfic and o-fic. I’m still trying to find a way around it. At the minute, I mostly play with digital art/Daz3d. Has anything in real life trickled down into your writing? Very probably. I do sit and ‘feel’ the emotion in a scene as I write it. Do you have any stories in the works? Can you give us a teaser? I’m plugging away on bits and pieces, the odd few hundred words here and there. So this is a bit of a bare snippet from The Offer of Just One More (yes, I also peck at that!) “Victoire said you’re mean, Daddy.” Alexandra’s little Severus scowl was quite plain. “I said you weren’t, so she tried to pull my hair. So we sat on her,” she pointed to herself, Oona and a beaming Olivia, “until she said you wasn’t…weren’t.” Hermione sighed. The Burrow was a bloody minefield. And she was certain there was more than Ron stirring trouble, through their children, to get in a dig at Severus. “You shouldn’t sit on people who disagree with you,” Severus murmured. There was a light in his eyes. Hermione was sure she’d get the blame for their three daughters being little hellions. A lifted eyebrow and the murmured, “Draco? An attack of birds? Setting me on fire?” “She sat under the tree with us last week when you were at the Burrow,” Emily said. Obviously their eldest had known about the altercation. And supported it. The Snape girls were just as protective of their father as he was as them. It was sweet. In a Mafioso sort of way… “It was the troll then, too. And she thinks you’re the best storyteller, now.” “Troll!” Meredith cried, waving her juice cup, obviously at the end of her patience in waiting for her story. “The troll, indeed, Meredith.” The toddler beamed up at her father and clapped her hands. Severus glanced down at a still-sleeping Hannah. His voice was soft as he asked. “So…who is the hero of this story?” Five little girls grinned and looked towards Hermione. She blushed. “Mummy!”

“And who is the villain?”

“The Troll!” Oona and Olivia declared. “Because he attacked her.”

“Quirrell. He released the troll.” Alexandra said. Emily shook her head. 

“She wouldn’t be in the toilet at all without Ronald Weasley.”

“Weedy!” Meredith laughed and the semi-circle of girls fell into giggles. Her eldest had recently taken a sharp dislike to her old friend. Hermione’s eyes met her husband’s. They would have to keep an eye on what the ginger menace was saying around their children. Or wait four years, and let Emily hex him. Any words of encouragement to other writers? Write what calls to you…and find your fun in playing with language. Hunt out those moments where you go ‘ooh, that’s good!’ Thanks so much for giving us your time. No worries. A pleasure :)

[bleachbleachbleach]

HELLO.

I just wanted to say that I love, love, love your tags on that character/tool post a lot! Some of my favorite shows/books involve characters that can't keep it together and just barely make it to the end of the story or make it there in an "inconvenient way" and tbh I find that usually the narratives that follow these characters don't really work away from them either--the narrative is just usually more questioning instead of fully formed.

Like, 'what if/how would', y'know? There's less of a clear meaning and more just 'what if they hadn't done that. what if they had done that. what if all that meant nothing. what if that struggle was all there was'.

But oh boy, when they DO work away from the narrative. *chefs kiss*

I mean, most of my favorite Bleach characters are narrative nightmares who either hinder or cut off lines of theme in the story entirely. And, in general, I think there are A LOT of characters in shonen--a genre known for very long narratives that can't possibly complete every thought but also can't just abandon all those characters introduced ESPECIALLY the fan favorites or personal favorites--work in the way you described.

Tbh i think your tags really highlight why so many ppl get drawn to these characters/why they're so fun to play with in fanfiction.

If you have more to add or more thoughts about this you want to lay down I am here, eagerly awaiting and ready to pick them up.

Also, who do you think in Bleach is the most fun characters who sort of drop kicked the story, in your opinion? Who's the one you like the most? And who's the one you dislike the most?

[For posterity the referenced post is this one.]

Aww, thank you! That’s really lovely to hear. I was anxious about even putting it in tags because I don’t think I presently have the capacity to explain it well—and even if I did might still sound bananas to many. Or at least the bit about negotiating with characters and how *they* feel about being subjects in stories. Because as much as that really is my practice saying it out loud takes me back to like… FFN in 2003 where every store was prefaced by extensive chat-form back-and-forths between the fic author and their character "musies" and that is not something I think fandom would benefit from bringing back in force, hahaha. But anyway.

Here’s the part where I disappoint because I don’t think I actually know Bleach well enough to speak to it in this context. WHICH SOUNDS DUMB EVEN AS I TYPE IT BECAUSE LOL WTF IS THE NAME OF THIS BLOG WE ARE CHARLATANS AND POSERS FOR CLAIMING AS OUR NAMESAKE NOT ONE BLEACH BUT THREE BLEACHES but truly, my experience of Bleach has a shallow depth of field. I feel like I have weirdly intimate knowledge of some severe rabbit holes but a non-existent to uneasy sense of the gestalt.

Like idek man, in my "slow re-read where I am actually paying attention" Ichigo hasn’t even met Byakuya and Renji yet. ToT

I'm gonna put this behind a cut because it spidered all over the place, but in summary:

characters and their capacity to produce narrative failure

the charm of longform serialized series and their invitations to imagine stuff

me attempting to talk about Hitsugaya and feeling a fool, as usual

I guess in general terms, I’m really interested in characters and their capacity to produce narrative failure. Not failure as in 'bad' but failure as in things that break form or are circuitous or are actively detrimental to a narrative arc. All my strongest examples of what I’m thinking of are from a different fandom and therefore not relevant to this blog, alas. By comparison I think anyone in Bleach can keep it together better than the characters that are immediately coming to mind, lol. But I think this idea dovetails often with trauma narratives, or depression narratives, because these things are often… non-narrative? Like, there’s no fourth or fifth for minor fall or major lift. Sometimes it’s the same thing over and over again, or maybe nothing. Maybe it’s the exact same self-sabotage narrative dictates could have been avoided. Maybe it’s some act that emanates forth but cannot be explained because it cannot be explained and will never be explained. That’s a version of what I’m talking about, in any case, though not the only version.

Your note about longform shounen definitely resonates with me, too. In my mind I don’t like long things and I prefer series that are more self-contained but whenever I have ever landed in a long-term fandom, with a piece of media I felt obliged to carve out chunks of my life for, and to interact with at that level of creative fannishness, it’s always been something stupid long and serialized by the seat of its pants. I know plot holes or dropped threads bother a lot of people (makes total sense, don’t get me wrong) but I find these things incredibly attractive. I see them as invitations to join in the fun. Especially when it’s so much a part of the form and genre to have this, as you said, lack of real expectation that every thread will be followed to its conclusion (or that it would be worthwhile to do so) and every thought completed.

There’s this piece by David Grann that was published in The New Yorker in 2004 that I really love that speaks to part of this idea, albeit in terms of fictional universes versus fictional characters. But Grann is talking about Sherlock Holmes (Doyle original) and the ways that Sherlockians would like, approach apparent lapses in narrative and then solve them according to the established rules of the universe. I just love that. There’s also the line, "Never had so much been written by so many for so few," which LOL if that ain’t fandom I don’t know what is!!

I feel like I’m actually talking about three distinct but related facets of these thoughts in this post, except all at once and without clear transition, uhhhhh.

Gah, I am broken and now can ONLY think of examples from my not-Bleach fandom, but to try a different tack and add yet another facet to this already funhouse-mirror post, my various attempts to write Hitsugaya often feel like they come up against a version of this. I think Hitsugaya has aggressive side character energy, and I find it difficult to make him the center of a story and have it feel right to me. He feels different to me than writing other minor characters, where they can be the center of their own stories even if their story is not the main story. Like, two of my fave characters in my other fandom have literally like… three lines in 350+ episodes and it feels easier to imagine THEM at the center of their story and I think what it comes down to is that Hitsugaya probably prefers what he not be written. And when he does become more narrative I think he’d prefer that none of it was happening in the fist place. But at the same time he always seems to be…around??? whether there is really a good reason for him to be present or not. XD So while, say, he and Bartleby "would prefer not to" (because THAT'S what this post needs, a Melville reference), Bartleby actually opts out and Hitsugaya out here volunteering.

He also often feels non-narrative to me because he feels very declarative, if that makes sense? Like, the coming-to-decisions or coming-to-realizations parts of existence happen pretty quick, or are approached perfunctorily. I feel like I find narrative in the "coming" part of that equation and instead Hitsugaya will be like, well, I’ve already done that part without you, and/or plan to do that part in the future and it will still be without you, the audience. Anyway, here’s the determination I’ve made, here’s what I’m going to do, and here begins the long and probably tedious process of my doing that thing (off 2 go train in a cave for a bit). I don’t think he actually believes the world is that simple, Tab A into Slot B, but I do think he’s already made that assessment and can see coming to terms with that as a horizon, if that makes sense. So even if he doesn’t know the answer to something, or is completely at a loss of what to do (what to say to Hinamori? how to productively address the number Aizen’s done on him) there’s still not necessarily a story there. Maybe the answer is you grind, and it is repetitive and boring. Maybe you just hold things. There’s not even the act of learning how to hold things, necessarily, just the practice of doing so.

Wow, that probably doesn’t sound good! I feel like I need to suffix this with the assurance that Hitsugaya is my absolute runaway character in the whole series and this was true 15 years ago and it is still true now (truer, even) and everything I just said are reasons why I love him.

[tthael]

What are your thoughts on trans eddie? I love it bc I'm trans and eddie is like one of my comfort characters. Since you're the best writer I've ever seen I'm curious on your thoughts.

Thank you, that’s so nice! I also have some Gender Trouble (transmasc isn’t quite the right word) and I think about gender dynamics a lot, and I think Eddie in particular has an interesting relationship with his masculinity in canon that makes him ripe for this kind of analysis.

Back when I was mostly interested in Hobbit fanfiction, I read a lot of good fics that played around with the gender dynamics of the characters; so while I know that genderswap fics can be a hot button issue because of transphobia and accompanying dynamics, I do like those stories when they’re well-written and taken seriously. For instance, this Dwalin/Nori fic by @thorinsmut features a genderfluid pirate captain and an identity porn romance during the Golden Age of Sail (https://archiveofourown.org/works/1861419) and it’s one of my all-time favorite fanfictions (content warnings for violence against animals, discussion of sexual assault, explicit sex, and a genderfluid character experiencing dysphoria). I tend to prefer always-a-different-sex fics, but I’ve also read a couple of a-wizard-did-it fics, like this Coulson/Hawkeye fic by amireal (https://archiveofourown.org/works/1173773) from back when I was into marvel (content warnings for internalized homophobia, explicit sex, and workplace harassment). I myself have had an idea for a while about a Hunger Games genderswap fic where, because 1 girl and 1 boy are always sent to the Games, Katniss can’t volunteer to go in his sister’s place, but he can volunteer to go in Peeta’s place because he plans to die to save Prim.

So, if we accept that gender essentialism treats children assumed to be girls and children assumed to be boys differently (which it does), I think that a transman!Eddie would have a slightly different experience growing up. Canon Eddie has a sort of glass closet going on and a lot of his childhood bullying is homophobic, and it’s implied that this is because he’s not performing masculinity to the expected level. Also Sonia’s abuse focuses on illness, injury, and contamination. She wants Eddie to be “safe” (goes into hysterics when he tries to get his feet scanned at a shoe-store because of the radiation), but she also wants him to be “clean” and “good to his mother.” Especially in the 90s miniseries and the Muschietti movies that take place in 1989 and 2016, a lot of that is coded to involve the AIDS epidemic, needles, and fears of transmission, which means that there’s an element of homophobia to Sonia’s influence. Also, Sonia canonically sex-shames Beverly, calling her “a dirty girl” and saying that she knows all about her, specifically singling her out of the whole group of Losers. There’s an element of sexual protection to her emotional abuse, as well as just a general unwillingness to let Eddie leave the house or get free of her control.

So if we reverse this dynamic and Eddie is a transboy, I think that the pressures he would experience would involve him not performing femininity correctly as a child, because he’s a boy. Eddie would still be very polite and somewhat soft-spoken and dreamy, and he’d be squeamish about bullies belching in his face and Richie playing in the sewers, just like he is in canon; but I think that his discomfort with his traditionally “feminine” responses would come from him instead of externally now. I’d have him lean harder into his traditionally “masculine” interests--cars and trains and other vehicles of getting away from his mother--and I’d have Sonia be even more aggressive towards Bill, Stan, and Richie, to the point of them not ever daring to enter the house the way they do in the 2017 movie because I think Sonia would be just as revolted by the idea of Eddie going around with a pack of boys as she is by Beverly in canon. I think that Sonia would be very invested in Eddie’s appearance, probably pressuring him about his hair and the way that he dressed, probably preferring him to wear skirts and nice clothes instead of things that he could wear to ride a bike or go running around in the Barrens in. I think that there would be a greater element of sexual shaming and body- and weight-policing to Sonia’s abuse, with elements of her wanting to protect Eddie’s “virtue” from “those dirty boys.” @pineapplecrushface wrote an always-women AU Nightingale (https://archiveofourown.org/works/24979312) and while Richie and Eddie are women in this story so it’s not the trans Eddie fic you are looking for, I think that the mentions of Eddie’s childhood bedroom seems pretty accurate for the environment that he would grow up in if he were assigned female at birth--a pink canopy bed and looking for clothes that don’t make him “feel like a cupcake.”

Actually, I think that this might look a lot like Carrie. I know that other people have already talked about the similarities between Sonia Kaspbrak and Margaret White, but Margaret’s abuse tends to orient not just around control but also around sexual maturity and perceived virtue.

I don’t know when or to what degree Eddie would transition--I don’t know if he would take the opportunity to do it while Sonia was still living, though I believe he’d be financially stable enough to afford it very early on. It would all depend on how the writer wanted to handle Eddie’s adult life--is he married to Myra? Does Myra know that he’s trans? Do he and Myra have a sexual relationship? Does Eddie know that he’s attracted to men? Is Eddie out before he gets the call from Mike and goes to Derry? What kind of transition does he want to have, if any? There are so many things to consider and I think it would all depend on what kind of story the author wants to tell--for me, I’d probably write a story where Eddie happens to be trans, and I’ve read some good fic to that effect--Rapacious from the Very Start (https://archiveofourown.org/works/22853020) by InkandOwl (I tried to find their tumblr to tag them and couldn’t) is one of my favorites, though tbh when I read fic I’m looking for explicit sex and that seems to be the core of this series.

But yeah, I’d be down for trans Eddie fic. I think that there’s a lot to unpack there, from how Eddie’s “gazebos” confrontation with Sonia would take place because the primary issue there would not be the idea of keeping Eddie compliant and in the house as a mama’s boy, it would be the idea of keeping him locked in a tower like the witch in Rapunzel because Sonia keeps treating him like a princess; to the idea of needlephobia changing from a threat involving AIDS contamination to perhaps something empowering and self-authenticating like T injections. And Eddie’s such a well-rounded character anyway, I think that there’s a lot of room to dig into his bickering with Richie and his outward aggressiveness and see how much of that is stress and how much of that is the idea that masculinity never shows weak emotions and how much of that is Eddie is quick-witted and thinks arguing is fun. There are also several parallels between Georgie and Eddie, particularly in their relationship with Bill; I think that as a kid, Eddie would think that Big Bill is just the best role model in a real little-brother kinda way, and Sonia would be super threatened by that because she’s Eddie’s mother, Eddie’s supposed to want to be like her.

I think in general I’d be down for most trans fic, as long as it was well-written. In the book there’s an interesting passage from the perspective of Richie’s mother where she reflects on how much she wishes that she had a daughter, because she doesn’t understand Richie and Bill, and she’d feel more confident if she had a daughter she could do things with like baking cupcakes. And I think that a trans Bev would change the way that she experiences abuse from her father, who in the book prefers her to behave in a feminine way (stops being angry at her when he thinks she’s afraid of spiders, because “all girls are afraid of spiders”; becomes irate at the idea that Beverly is playing with boys; obsessive over her virginity) but would behave differently if he thought he had a son and that Bev was transgressing masculine rules.

Anyway! *hammers fist on desk* Bring me my all-trans Losers AU!

[shnuggletea]

Hey there! How are you doing? I hope you're well and good, prospering and safe. Here's another chapter for your Sunday when you get a minute. Anyone waiting for the epilogue to STYH please be patient. My keyboard still isn't working (currently typing with the on-screen keyboard). And, tbh, I'm super invested in my originals right now. Very excited about one actually and I can't wait to get it done (working on the edits suggested to me by a publisher). Which you can imagine how difficult without a keyboard. Luckily, it's mostly changes that are easy, no long blocks of writing as its done just needs fixing. STYH needs to be written entirely, a difficult task without a keyboard.

Anyway, thanks for all your support. The Inuyasha fandom is the best fandom as far as taking care of its members. Other fandoms need to use this one as an example.

Wanna catch up or stay in the know? You can find and follow/fave the fic by heading over to my page on ff HERE or AO3 HERE.

For the chapter links; Fanfiction HERE and AO3 HERE.

Chapter Seven

Things were running smoothly. She spent all her evenings in the infirmary, treating everything from yeast infections to jammed fingers. How long the demons in this place had simply suffered with the longer healing process from the runes, she didn't know. But the yeast infection had sighed in relief when she gave them the ointment and they applied it heavily. They weren't allowed to leave with the tube, so a return visit was imminent.

When she walked the rows to her seat with Miroku and Shippo, Inuyasha sometimes gracing them with his presence, the odd demon gave her a nod of respect. A month later and she was no longer called White. They called her Doctor.

"What's up Doc!"

Lopsided grin, she stepped up to sit next to Kagura in the warm sun. "Jakotsu, why do you talk like an old cartoon all the time?"

"Wha? Bugs Bunny is the shit and when else am I going to use it?"

He flipped a long dark lock over his shoulder as he spoke for some kind of emphasis. She was giggling at him but no one else did, they were all on edge and she didn't know why. Until the entire yard got quiet.

The guards were still taking off chains, standing in her view, but she would have known who it was regardless. She recognized the blood-red aura.

Kagura was already on her feet, standing on top of the picnic table and jumping slightly. Everyone was still quiet but Kagura's squeal would have been heard over the noise as she leapt into the air and then onto the stoic demon.

The Dog demon was loose.

His black scrubs stood out painfully against his pale coloring. Everyone kept their distance, save for Kagura, swinging herself around his neck and planting very affectionate kisses all over his face and neck. Now red lipstick stained his otherwise flawless porcelain skin. Planning on depositing the woman, the two made their way closer to the group.

Out of nowhere, Miroku appeared at the side of the table. "Kagome. A word please?"

She had just gotten to her feet when Kagura stopped her, wrapping an arm around her neck and pulling her down the rest of the way into a hug. "Kagome, meet my man. Sesshomaru!"

"We've met."

His eyes were just as cool as they had been in the dungeon. "Yeah. The Warden had me…"

"Pay us a visit. The Doctor is why I'm getting some extra time out of isolation."

"Really?!" Kagura screeched, squeezing Kagome's neck tighter. "You're the BEST Kagome!"

As soon as Kagura's hold lessened, Kagome was pulled back a bit harshly. Miroku really wanted to talk to her it seemed. But he was focused on the Dog demon. "If you're out then does that mean…."

"Sadly, yes. Right behind me."

"Great. Kagome, let's go."

"Go where? We're all stuck here!" Jakostu cried.

Even Kanna looked a little uneasy. The old teenager just looked pleased and smirked eerily.

Before he stepped out into sight, she felt him. The wicked strands of hate that burrowed inside him she would never forget. Naraku was getting released too.

"Remember, Doctor, what we said about fear." Sesshomaru warned.

Taking a deep breath, Kagome got herself under control. What could he do to her here anyway? It's not like he would even have the slightest interest in her, she was just a White. Regardless, Kagome found herself searching the yard for Inuyasha. He was on the other side of them, looking towards the door. Even he wasn't concerned with her, she was fine.

Fur tickled her hand and she jumped, looking down and finding the Kitsune. "Shippo?"

He was shivering, holding tight to her leg. "I'm scared, Kagome."

In a flash, she picked up the young demon and held him in her arms tight. If he was offended by her babying him, he said nothing and only snuggled in deeper to her. "Don't be afraid, Shippo. I'll protect you."

The chains rattled ominously in the terrible silence. Everyone was watching the show.

The light felt as if it was sucked away as Naraku stood, patiently letting the guards remove his cuffs. His eyes looked over the yard, a smirk on his face that turned upwards even more at the sight of Kagome. Even with his lips curled upwards, it didn't give the same impression as when anyone else smiled. No, Naraku being happy was not a good thing at all.

Miroku's hold on her arm tightened when Naraku set out towards them. If anyone was in the way, they quickly jumped out of it, giving Narkau a clear path to all of her friends. Who, whether conscious or not, slowly circled around her. Kanna got to her feet and stood next to Kagura, grabbing her sleeve tightly. The Teenage-Wonder remained where she was and watched while Jakotsu moved to Kagome's back.

Kagura and Sesshomaru didn't move, standing right between her and Naraku. "Sesshomaru, long time no see."

Sesshomaru didn't laugh, not that Kagome expected him to even if it was a good joke.

If Kagome were to guess, she would say the black scrubs marked the most dangerous. But with Sesshomaru vastly different in aura's and intentions from Naraku, she had to wonder if it meant something else entirely?

Leaning to the side, Naraku looked around the couple and to Miroku. "Still trying to keep the peace, Monk?"

"Nope. This one's mine." Miroku answered, wrapping his arm around her waist.

She hoped she didn't offend Miroku when she responded with a gasp of shock and discomfort. He didn't lessen his hold so if she did offend, he didn't care. "The Doctor doesn't seem to share your interests?"

"Why do you care?"

Naraku turned back to glare at Kagura. "Bitches should know their place."

Sesshomaru shoved Naraku back, the first time showing some emotions since she'd seen his face. His red eyes were glowing as were the purple streaks on his face. Demons like Sesshomaru never had a chance to escape when the laws changed.

"Watch what you say, Naraku." Sesshomaru warned.

Shippo shivered against her neck and she carefully petted him. With all these people surrounding her, Kagome's only fear was that someone would get hurt for her.

"And here I had been looking forward to a decent conversation with the Doctor. But every time we meet, there's meat bags in my way."

Taking advantage, Naraku slugged Sesshomaru, who clearly wasn't expecting the attack, sending him flying a short distance away. He backhanded Kagura who fell on top of the Dog demon. Miroku spun her backward, putting himself in front of her. In a move that was sure to get her in trouble to deal with later, Kagome tossed Shippo into Kanna, knocking both children down in a less violent manner than Naraku promised.

Now unburdened by innocence, she grabbed onto Miroku's back, holding onto his shoulders in hopes of keeping him back from the swirling black mass of hate.

"Out of my way, Monk."

"Fuck you."

A fist to his gut and Miroku stumbled. He remained standing, to Naraku's displeasure. A quick glance at the guards left her less than shocked that they stood watching, doing nothing.

Her fingers were starting to match Miroku's scrubs she held the material so tight. Weaken from the hit, she used her hold to toss Miroku away, getting him out of the way. Naraku didn't miss a beat, getting right in her face. He had her collar in his hold and ran a claw down her cheek.

"Hello, Doctor."

"Naraku."

"I was just thinking, blood for blood? What do you think? Then we could call it even?"

She kept control of her body, keeping herself from shivering. "You want my blood? Why?"

"Same reason the Warden wants mine. Power."

Ripped off her, Kagome stumbled a little when Naraku was knocked back by a body colliding with his. She was in shock, finding Maten crouching before her with his brother at his side. "Don't touch the Doctor!"

The laugh that billowed out of Naraku had her struggling to contain herself. "Come now, boys. I only wanted to thank the Doctor. After all, if it wasn't for her kind words, I'd still be in lock up. Now I get to come out and play with all of you!"

A few words and sounds of concern were passed around the yard and Kagome watched as the nods of respect she once got now turned to glowers. How quickly the tides changed.

"They wouldn't allow demon killers like the two of you lose. This is a fluke!" Maten shouted with only a small shiver of fear.

She didn't understand. A demon-killing demon? It didn't make sense, why would a demon kill their own kind? Especially with the bans and restrictions on them as a race, it would be like shooting fish in a barrel with the fish the ones doing the shooting.

All of this didn't really matter right now, her attention pulled back to the couple. Sesshomaru was cradling Kagura in a manner she'd seen many times before. It had her wondering about the two… before her distracted attention cost her.

Maten was in Naraku's claws.

"None of you seem to mind when the Dog demon comes out to play. Now that it's my turn you're all going to give me shit?"

To prove everyone's point, Naraku tossed Maten right into his brother. She had just healed and helped the two of them only to get broken again so quickly. Naraku was stepping up to her, unimpeded again, and Miroku groaned on the ground near her. He was still rallying from Naraku's blow. How powerful was this guy when the runes weren't oppressing him to nothing?

Miroku's words were ringing in her ears about not revealing herself but with everyone still at risk, she was dangerously close to going farther than she ever had before with her gifts when her vision was filled with white. The snarl that came from Inuyasha was feral, more like an animal than any other sound he had made thus far.

Naraku laughed loudly and viciously. "I wondered when you'd show your ugly face, Inuyasha."

She had stepped up to grab the back of Inuyasha's scrubs but he pushed her back hard. "You're always a fucking problem, Naraku. I'm starting to get tired of your little tantrums."

"I just want a little blood from the Doctor here. Maybe you can coax it out of her for me?"

"What the hell does that mean?"

Naraku was on top of Inuyasha and neither was backing down. "It means I heard you purring to her from your cell the other day. And I smell her on your skin."

"She is my damn cellmate, I have no choice…"

"Don't insult my intelligence…"

Inuyasha huffed in Naraku's face. "You? Intelligent? The guy that got thrown in here thanks to a six-year-old?"

For some reason, that sent Naraku into a rage and close to ripping Inuyasha's throat out. The hanyou didn't even flinch while she was trying to breathe. Naraku's darkness was overwhelming and her body screamed for action like never before. She knew all that her gifts could do and had been taught to never use them like that. It had never been too hard, until right now and she felt like she might pop. All she could do was hold it back and fight against natural instinct, praying she wasn't 'showing'.

But Inuyasha caught on, glancing over his shoulder and paling at the sight of her. "Go ahead, Naraku, hit me. This is already your last time outside your cell."

Inuyasha was right, the guards were already moving into place, small guns in their hands that she wondered what they did. If this had been a test then Naraku had clearly failed. Sesshomaru was still sitting on his hands, playing the game as the Warden wanted him to. Naraku was going to go back to hell and Sesshomaru was going to stay.

Naraku made one last attempt, lunging for Kagome and ignoring the rest. Which was why Inuyasha got his fist to connect with his neck. Coughing and sputtering, Naraku fell back and glared at the two of them. But then fell to his knees so the guards could chain him back up and sneered at Kagome. It was all so surreal and confusing as hell. Here was the most powerful and dangerous creature she'd ever seen and he allowed himself to be chained up so easily? What was in those guns? And what the hell were the guards?

Naraku was gone and everyone still kept their distance. The monster from the basement wasn't the only one these demons were afraid of.

Just like before, Inuyasha turned and showed her blood-colored eyes. This time she took notice of the purple streaks under his eyes. And how he looked just like Sesshomaru. Sesshomaru who was sitting next to Kagura on the picnic table now. They looked like polar opposites, Sesshomaru stoic and clam while Kagura was loud and affectionate. It was cute.

Inuyasha was not cute right now, looming over her and growling.

"Next time, I'm going to let Naraku bleed you dry!"

He turned from her and her blood boiled with her rage, pulling off her shoe and throwing it. It hit him in the back of the head and a few brave souls laughed. Inuyasha wasn't laughing, slowly turning back to her with his eyes still red. "No one ASKED FOR YOUR HELP!"

On top of her in a blink, Kagome struggled to breathe with his sudden nearness. His scent permeated her very essences as there was no escaping it as his angry hot puffs of breath wafted against her cheeks. "You wanna run that by me again, White?"

"Look around, Inuyasha. Not a single person here asked for you to step in. If it's such a HUGE inconvenience then next time, save yourself the trouble and let me get torn apart! Then you can have your stupid cell and bed to yourself again!"

There were a few snickers and groans, reminding her of a fight in the halls back in school. Inuyasha smiled, but it only made her heart drop into her belly as it was the coldest smile she'd ever seen in her life. "That does sound nice. I can do as I please in peace again. But," he reached down, pulling Miroku to his feet, "I'd rather this piece of shit remain whole. I might need him someday. I couldn't give a shit about you, White."

"Are you kidding me? Miroku was out of danger! He didn't need your help either! You just wanted to show off, to show that you could 'take him' like you said in the basement." She was already walking away, going around Inuyasha and Miroku as he was held up by Inuyasha. "You don't need to worry Mate, I heard you, loud and clear. I know you don't give a shit about me and I could care less!"

She shouted the rest over her shoulder, retreating to the dark halls inside. With so many injured, she needed to be at the infirmary anyway and the guards didn't question or try to stop her. She just really hoped it was far enough away from the yard to keep them from hearing her angry sobs of pain and frustration.

oOo

It made her feel so guilty, the infirmary full thanks to her, and yet she was thankful for the distraction.

Shippo and Kanna sat on a bed near her, watching her work while she checked over Maten and Hilten for any bones to reset before they healed back. She really didn't want to have to re-break any bones here. Shippo had a scraped knee and Kanna a bruised cheek but was fine otherwise. She was keeping an eye out for Kagura to appear. No way she would go for long without stopping by and there was no way to know how long Kagura had been without a doctor already.

"Alright, you two are good to go."

Hilten hopped to his feet, dragging his brother along behind. "Thank you, Kagome."

She tried to not worry too much about Maten's obvious infatuation with her, hoping it would pass soon. Who had time for things like love in here?

There was a commotion out in the hallway and Shippo tensed. "Why don't you two head back outside?"

She cooed at the two of them, gently pressing them towards the door and following them out to make sure it was safe. Her eyes felt like rolling out of her skull at the sight of Inuyasha dragging Miroku towards the infirmary.

"I'm fine...Inuyasha…"

"You can barely breathe idiot!"

The guards were itching to jump in on the two for whatever they could. At least that's how it felt to Kagome, pushing the children on and out of the way to step between the fussy couple and the edgy guards.

"You got hit pretty hard, Miroku. I should take a look."

Miroku's smile was pained, "Whatever you say, Doctor."

Inuyasha sighed loudly but followed alone behind the two of them. The guards didn't let Inuyasha past the doorway but he didn't fight them, just watched from there. It made it faster, without an x-ray, to find the problem since she was right there for the fight. Pressing right where Naraku's fist planted in Miroku's stomach, he still groaned with her gentle touch.

Using the ancient stethoscope, she listened to his lungs for a few seconds. "Well, I'm pretty sure you've got a broken rib. Which is why you're struggling to breathe."

"Pretty sure?" Inuyasha asked in his irritated tone from the door.

She ignored him and focused on her patient. "I'll give you some pain meds to help you breathe. Just make sure you don't restrict your breaths, you could get pneumonia."

"Whatever you say, Doc."

Glancing back, she eyed Inuyasha and matched his frown with her own. "Are you injured?"

He huffed. "You were there."

"Then you don't need to be here!"

Mostly, she just didn't want to feel his eyes on her right now. His aura was being weird, tinged red around the edges of his gold. It was beautiful and she hated admitting it. So she really didn't want him here at all.

The guards pushed him back and after a scoff, he walked away. Miroku chuckled a little, in part to his ribs but also so not to be heard. "You shouldn't be so hard on him. He's trying he just lacks...tact."

"He lacks a lot more than that."

Bottle of pills in hands, Miroku stopped her angry shaking with a gentle touch. "Kagome… do we have a patient and doctor privilege?"

"Do you mean, can I keep a secret?" She asked, placing pills in his hand and trying to soften her annoyance.

"More than that. I need to know that you'll NEVER tell Inuyasha I told you this." Her and Inuyasha didn't really talk so it didn't seem like it would be a problem, nodding her head in silence to give him the go-ahead. "Inuyasha asked me to keep an eye out for you. He's the reason I went over there to get you when Naraku was coming."

"Wait, what?!"

Miroku held up a hand to quiet her, not wanting even the guards to hear him say this for some reason. "Don't get me wrong, you're very cute and sweet. I would have helped you anyway. But I like ruffling Inuyasha's feathers and it's so cute how irritated he gets when I hesitate." Miroku laughed while she was in stunned confusion. "Oh, I love making him beg."

Miroku was wiping tears from his eyes while she felt like her head would explode. "Why would he send you? I'm… I'm so confused right now."

She gripped her head as if it would help and Miroku frowned. "Come now, Kagome. The problem is you have the wrong idea about Inuyasha entirely. Not that anyone would blame you. On the surface, he's been a complete asshole to you…"

"Exactly. A full-on, righteous, self-absorbed asshole…"

"Which is exactly what he wants you to think. Even if it bothers him. Not that he would admit it. To anyone."

"I still don't understand."

Miroku sighed and patted her arm. "Remember when you were attacked? Hmmm? Thunder Brothers went after you for no reason?"

"They wanted to leave my body on the bed for… Inuyasha to find… but I told them he wouldn't care…" Miroku was silent, letting her put it together. "But he would have cared? He didn't even know me then."

"Doesn't matter. Because everyone in here hates him."

"Why? I mean, he's no picnic.."

Miroku glanced behind her to the guards. She glanced too, finding them completely disinterested. "They hate Inuyasha because he's the one that got Naraku locked up here."

And that’s what black means! See you next weekend!

[lovedthe-stars-toofondly]

Get to know the writer!

NAME: Bee

PRONOUNS: they/them, she/her

ZODIAC SIGN: In the basic charts, Virgo. In the full chart, Libra sun, Cancer moon, Capricorn rising. Uh. Whatever that means xjcjdhd

TAKEN OR SINGLE: Taken, happy, in love <3

~~ THREE FACTS ~~

I’m an artist! Currently attending art college with a BFA focus in ceramics; sculpture and wheel-thrown pottery! I do all kinds of different art though. I’ve been drawing passionately since I was about 11 (am 20 now), hobbied in origami since about the same, started digital art when I was around 15 (I think), and dabbled occasionally in acrylic and watercolor; I’ve also done wittling, shop woodworking, metalworking, steel welding, soft sculpture sewing, plaster molding, etc. Tbh I don’t think there’s a visual art form I’ve tried and haven’t been at least moderately good at lmao. I also work as the graphic designer and artist for my family’s small business and have illustrated a published book (Queensdaughter by Amanda Ylva ^^ I haven’t actually read it yet lmao but it’s gay and high fantasy (i think?) so what’s not to love-).

I am also a musician—I’ve played piano since I was like 6 or 7, clarinet since I was 10, ukulele since about 15 or so, and just a little bit of ocarina (nothing serious there lmao, unfortunately it is quite loud and I can’t practice at home). Before I decided on an art major, I was very seriously considering music as my major, for either piano or clarinet. I also compose a little, have a great musical ear and memory, and I have perfect pitch hoho-

I am a writer—obviously I enjoy roleplaying lol but I also write fanfiction, poetry, and original stories. I’ve got some ideas for stories that will probably never ever be finished and published ever but they’re at least fun to think about lol. I really enjoy writing fanfiction though, it’s a lot easier for me to work on shorter stories. I like to mix poetry and prose.

~~ EXPERIENCE ~~

I started roleplaying when I was about 11, on an old flash game called Fly Like A Bird 3 on fastgames/andkon/gamevial. The game had an open chat so of course the roleplayers found it lmao. From there I roleplayed mostly just with my online best friend at the time, and we hopped around to different forums (man y’all remember forums dnjfkd). Biggest website we used was Chicken Smoothie and god I love that it hasn’t changed a bit (I don’t still use it but i got that old web nostalgia). Fell away from roleplaying for a good few years but got back into it in June last year!

~~ MUSE PREFERENCE ~~

Uh. Okay I really haven’t roleplayed a lot of different muses lmao it’s like,,, three, Alfons being one of them- So based on that I guess I have a preference for traumatized sweethearts that have potential enough (aka only 8 minutes of screentime) for me to make them even more traumatized and even bigger sweethearts. /j

I really enjoy playing other side characters too lmao, just haven’t had the opportunity for it much.

~~ FLUFF/ANGST/SMUT ~~

FLUFF: Gimme all the fluff omg, I live and breathe and thrive off of it. Make my teeth rot from the most saccharine plots you can think of. Let Alfons smile and happy stim until he forgets how to be sad.

ANGST: DO IT, STAB ME THROUGH THE HEART. I love writing angst even more than I love reading it in fanfics, which is a lot skcjfkf- Alfons is a character who was built to be hopeless and tragic, I love to take that and just,, mmm,, *clenches fist,,* make it worse.

SMUT: Nah. I’ve kinda considered it a little but would only do it with someone I trust absolutely. I’m on the asexual spectrum, and the topic of sex can also sometimes be kind of uncomfortable to Extremely Not Good depending on the day, so that’s not something I want happening here on this blog.

~~ PLOT/MEMES ~~

I am always down to plot!! If I share a meme and you get an idea from that (or get an idea otherwise lol) and wanna talk about it, message me! I’m down to write starters for new interactions too, in case we haven’t interacted before.

———

stolen from: @asonswrath

steal it from me ùwú