#snippets from my notes

[iwonderwh0]

"Do you still have my coin? Can I have it back?" Connor asked.

"Uh, sure," Hank slid his hand into a pocket and, without turning his head, handed the content of it to Connor.

"Hank it's not..."

A sudden realisation washed over Hank as he swiftly turned his head and stared at the grey circle in Connor's fingers. Fuck.

"I didn't know you kept it," Connor smiled sheepishly, as if still not entirely sure if the object in his hand was truly what he thought it was.

Hank swallowed. For some reason he felt embarrassed, as if Connor had just caught him red-handed invading his privacy, even though the expression on android's face showed no sign of discomfort. Just confusion.

"I-" Hank cleared his throat, "I guess I forgot I put it there."

Except he didn't. It was a harmless lie, he decided, much more digestible at least than the truth, which was that he kept it on purpose. Somehow it felt important. After all, it was the only visible sign of life for when android went inactive, and Hank used to find a comfort in the sight of it. If the android stayed still without breathing and looked dead by every human standard – at least the light was still on. Hank couldn't help but check on it whenever he saw Connor in such an inactive state. If he was completely honest, he wished the android kept the damn thing. It was selfish of him, Hank knew, but that was the truth, and he only hoped his frustrated disappointment wasn't too obvious for Connor to sense. He probably noticed. Of course, Hank couldn't bring himself to throw the LED away when it just got removed, when it was still glowing blue, indicating the life that wasn't there anymore to read properly. He put it in his pocket for the time being and decided to throw it away when the light goes off. It lasted for only about three days, but even then Hank found himself unwilling to let it go. By that time he got accustomed to rotating it around his fingers in moments of worry – there was something soothing in the sensation of sleek plastic, something calming about it's weight, and something reassuring about the fact that Hank still got it with him. Even if it had no light left.

Now that the LED was in Connor's hands, Hank realized the true extent to which he really didn't want to throw it away – he wanted it back. Now that it was useless, he needed it more than Connor, even if he couldn't explain to him why. He wouldn't understand.

To his relief Connor handed it back to him. He didn't ask.

Hank exchanged it for a coin – a correct one this time – and put the LED back in the pocket, enclosing it with his fingers as he returned it.

He half-expected Connor to say something about it, but the other tossed a coin back and forth from hand to hand and focused his eyes on something outside the window. He didn't say a thing, and Hank was thankful he didn't.

[reminiscentrainclouds]

[fearandhatred]

the rapture

it's a holy thing, in theory, a glorious celebration, where those who believe rise to meet the lord in the air. it's a day of joy, in theory, and maybe even of vindication for those who have always believed.

but no one thinks about how it's like to see the dead rise again—bodies clawing their way out of bolted wood and six feet of packed earth, bodies decomposed and maggot-feasted, nails stained with rot and dirt. no one thinks about the violent lurch of their bodies being jolted into the air by the stomach, gravity flinging their heads back down to earth as they struggle in vain to find footing on molecules and gas. no one thinks about those who don't make it.

no one thinks about the screams.

crowley hadn't thought about any of these things. he certainly hadn't thought about the angels that would be called back to heaven along with the believers.

here they stand dead in the middle of absolute ruin, the promise of heaven the only thing left to look forward to on the wasteland of this earth. the sky has opened up like the eye of god, watching over her people for the very first time, and crowley's black wings against the beams of light only remind him that he doesn't belong up there with the rest of them. crowley wraps his arms tight around aziraphale, squeezes his torso like he can maybe keep aziraphale with him through sheer will or, laughably, demonic intervention. like love could ever be enough. like love could stay.

around them, the cacophony of wails and mockingly exaltant trumpets scorch the earth in their intensity, clashing and agonising even—especially—for them, and words make no sound. but they hold on to each other, even as they shrink into themselves against the noise of the undying. i don't want to leave you either, aziraphale doesn't say, but his hands dig into the cotton of crowley's sleeve, and crowley hears the words through his fingertips.

he feels a stronger upward resistance against his embrace now, and he clings tighter, steadfast, even as aziraphale's grip falters. but he knows he can't hold on forever. he knows that nothing ever lasts.

trembling with something unspeakable, he lifts his arms from aziraphale's torso and covers the angel's ears with his hands. he feels more than hearing aziraphale's resulting sob, and he spreads out his wings to wrap them around their bodies. a shield, a comfort, a goodbye.

it's okay, the gesture says in silence. i'll see you in another lifetime.

[prince-liest]

Vox's priorities are SO intact.

[xxplastic-cubexx]

From the same Storm mini-series 🥹

THE FAM 🥺

[stygiansauce]

🦃 morning / afternoon / evening!

Scarian is the classic <3 ive only written them once for a friend and it took me… months… got stuck on one scene and avoided it for ages (and then got into taurtis x grian but that’s another story)

Cub and Scar being brotherly and inseparable is soo <3333 everything to me. Have you read “closer to another shore”? Oh my god. Changed my life. And scar and Cub within that book… absolute peak. Devoured it twice over and once more on top of that. Very much recommend if you want to tear your own heart out and crush grian like a bug!

ooo! I'll have to give that one a lookie!

I have this whole scale AU for Scarian that I'll write one day. it's bound to be my hardst work yet (yeah including the historial research and mapping nightmare that is Dealing Despair), because Splinter is one of those fics you have to plan every single scene out to make it all come together in the end.

My goal with Splinter) whenever I get around to writing it, it is to have like a fraction of coolness Birrdie's as above, so below has?? It's still one of my favorite fics of all time and I strive to write an AU like that one day. Splinter isnt the same thing? it's like a past life kind of thing, but the part im trying to emulate from aasb is the "oh something is happening here...I am scared of it" vibe.

Eitherway, if you want a good Grian fic (with some Scarian) THATS the fic. This is the fic I give to all my friends new to the fandom/to fanfiction. I shove aasb and Dirges in the Dark at them because those are the two fanfics I want on my shelf YESTERDAY. Like physical copies. (I am working on that actually....)

OKAY I'VE YAPPED ENOUGH! Time to clock in for the writing shift today <3

[gossippool]

i was gonna make a personal poolverine headcanons list because other people were doing it too but i realised my fics already have most of them so. here are some of my headcanons in fic snippet form. some contradict with others and some i don't even think are necessarily true but it's fun to experiment

people have said this before but logan fights wade because he sees himself in him (or because he realises that he actually doesn't and he hates that)

wade knows about and feels the (emotional and psychological) effects of all his other variant selves (and everything else if he tries)

logan's heightened senses gives him synesthesia

logan doesn't actually like violence/fighting/blood during sex or like ever. it's just an unhealthy addiction that started from him killing all those people that he snuffed with alcohol but revived with wade, and a way to take his anger out on (someone like) himself

with regard to wade's chronic pain slight p pressure on his skin hurts more and in a worse way than sharp pains like getting stabbed

[azoosepted]

Behold. my awesome google docs title-writing skills

[sunfloweraro]

Relaxing in Kakariko

While waiting for Wild to finish speaking with Impa, the group take a moment to relax. Twi has some ideas on how to help Bunny calm down.

Tags: @thatonecrazysidekick @tiredgaytheatrekid

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 .

Warriors settled back, his legs dangling, feet hovering just above the water, the toes of his leather boots sending gentle ripples through the still water. He leaned back on his hands, eyes slipping shut, and were it not for the fact that Twilight knew Warriors, he would have guessed the man had switched off entirely. But his ears twitched with every sound, his shoulders tense. He was overthinking things again, while still on high alert.

And he wanted Twilight to relax.

“Stop thinkin’ so ‘ard,” Twilight chastised him, flicking him over the shoulder and causing Warriors to flinch. “I can feel meself getting’ a headache jus’ watchin’ ye.”

Warriors shot him a sour look, and so Twilight kicked up water all over his pants. “Hey!”

“Ye need tuh learn tuh relax, my friend,” Twilight said. “Take a few deep breaths and let yer mind switch off fer a bit. I promise I’ll listen out fer the both of us.”

Warriors scoffed, but Twilight had a feeling it was only for show, if the way a soft smile tried to lift Warriors’ lips told him anything. “Alright. I will try, I suppose.”

“Ye bet ye will. Breathe in with me.” And when Twilight made an exaggerated breath in, Warriors followed. Together, they took several deep breaths, Twilight watching as Warriors’ shoulders lowered, the tension bleeding out from them. “Good. Now lie back and rest, will ye? Yer one o’ the worst of us when it comes tuh sleeping.”

Warriors made a show of grumbling, but he settled back against the hard wood of the boardwalk, resting his hands over his stomach and finally letting himself relax. His eyes slipped shut, that soft smile still gracing his lips. His hair encircled his head on the dark wood like a golden halo.

“Tha’s better,” Twilight said, squeezing Warriors’ arm and earning a huff of laughter. With a grin, Twilight leaned back on his hands once more, leg resting against Warriors’ side, ears sharp for any sign of danger as promised.

Soon enough, he heard the soft footfalls of folks approaching. Cracking open an eye, Twilight smiled when he saw it was only the rest of their group, bar his Cub. “Evenin’” he greeted. “The inn too good fer y’all?”

Hyrule picked his way over Warriors, settling down on Twilight’s other side cross-legged, setting Bunny in his lap. “The cook wasn’t prepared for a group of eight hungry Heroes and their rabbit. She’s shooed us all away for the moment.”

Twilight laughed at that. They rarely stayed at inns, but the horror on every cook’s face never ceased to make him laugh. They always repaid the cooks with praise and tips to apologise for the extra work, and each of them walked away happy. As he settled, he turned his attention down to their newest member. “How’s ‘e doin’?”

Hyrule slumped slightly, running a hand over Bunny’s back and receiving no response. “He’s been despondent since the fight. I don’t think he’s sleeping much, either. He just doesn’t seem to relax. I’m worried…”

Twilight understood what that was like, to be so high-strung after a terrible fight and consequential injury. He understood how traumatising the experience was, how difficult it became to continue on afterwards, when it felt as if you were trapped in your terror. Instinctively, he raised a hand to his left shoulder, felt the phantom pain there from the beginning of his journey, scarcely a few years ago now. “Mind if I try somethin’? I’ll be gentle with ‘im,” he promised when Hyrule looked hesitant to part ways with Bunny.

After a beat, Hyrule acquiesced, lifting Bunny into his arms and holding him close for a moment, before passing him over to Twilight. Bunny was warm in his hands, a comforting weight he had been missing all day, when Hyrule had been reluctant to let him go since the fight. “Hey there, li’l one. I know ye’ve been through the wringer lately. I’ve got somethin’ tuh help ye relax some.” He set Bunny down in his lap, the rabbit facing him. Once Bunny had shifted and gotten comfortable, Twilight set his hands over the rabbit’s head, slow and careful so Bunny wouldn’t panic. Even in the gentle touch, he could feel how terribly Bunny was shaking, just how badly the fight was still affecting him. His heart ached for the poor creature, and the life they had chosen for him by tearing him away from his home. But Twilight reminded himself that if they had set him free again, Bunny likely would have run off into the wilderness once more, and this time, he wouldn’t have them to find him.

“Aw, ye poor thing,” he murmured, his face softening. He cradled Bunny’s tiny head in his hands, setting his thumbs over Bunny’s forehead. There, he began slow strokes, from the space just above Bunny’s little nose, up between his eyes, and to the back of his head, then back down to start again. With his other fingers, he began to massage behind Bunny’s ears. It was a trick Rusl would always do for him when he awoke from a nightmare, in his Hylian and his wolf form. In both forms, he would relax under the gentle pressure and drift off swiftly.

It had the same effect on Bunny. The little pink rabbit’s eyes began to droop, his body stilling as his muscles relaxed. With a smile, Twilight continued, warmth blooming within his chest as Bunny settled under his guidance and comfort, and eventually drifted off.

“Wow,” Hyrule said, leaning closer. “You must have a magic touch.”

Twilight shrugged. “It’s a thing with animals; helps ‘em relax.”

Hyrule hummed. After a beat, he shifted closer, leaning into Twilight’s side. “Thank you. For helping him, I mean. I was beside myself with worry…”

“Of course,” Twilight said, removing one hand from Bunny to settle over Hyrule’s shoulders, drawing him in closer. “He’s family, now. That means we look out fer ‘im. Just as we look out fer each other. Get some rest, Traveller, you look a right mess too.”

Hyrule huffed a laugh, but Twilight wasn’t exaggerating. His concern for Bunny had been keeping him up, and it took no more encouragement for Hyrule to lean heavily against him, a deep sigh escaping him.

Twilight sat as he was until Wild came back, two sleeping bodies resting against him and a third against his leg, and a pleasant, tingling warmth pressing against his heart.

[plusultraetc]

do you see what I mean 😭

[eeljawz]

hi lesbian fishgirl nation. i am currently doing my best to write jess and cal’s meeting but also im so new to writing (ESPECIALLY vore which. there will be) so yall are gonna have to bear with me <— too lazy to draw a full comic

[nemaliwrites]

this fic is so funny…me projecting on dahlia who’s projecting on pearl who’s….literally just Vibing

[static-martini]

"You've abandoned your cage, Sir Knight, walking as though you've never been chained. Perhaps you never have, and your imprisonment was self-imposed.

"So tell me, Sir Knight, I must know…

"What's it like to be free?"

[oneluckydragon]

got hit with the echo+sora brainrot so i am once more rambling in your askbox about it. because reasons.

anywho i think there is something truly saddening about echo's struggles to make peace within herself and how she truly finds it hard to find that peace when she is so certain that if the truth about her origins were to be revealed to the world, much less to *sora*, everything she achieved, everything she worked for, all of which matters to her most, will crumble away in a moment's notice.

but the fear of losing all your life's work is none compared to the fear of losing sora. the feeling of poison that settled itself within themselves and between each other out of fear and tragedy of what had happened to them is familiar. echo's resemblance to dusknoir was already enough to set the two off because of how much it had all hurt to see someone you love and yourself turn into a mockery and a splitting image of someone who had pretended to care yet showed he never did at all, but this poison is louder. it hurts to bare, to carry, and to have none but yourself to be its sole holder.

but this poison, this feeling of heartache is different. because whereas the previous pain was something both of them felt, sora was lucky enough to not have known the truth about the person who she cares for so dearly.

echo knows that she used to be darkrai. and it haunts her to have known that her previous incarnation was so *cruel*, all for the sake of it just feeling right. wishing to engulf an entire world in darkness, solely for whatever desire she used to have.

and for how much she knows, how much she will hammer it into her own head that she is *not* like that anymore, that she looks at her past with sneer and disgust and that she will not be the barer of evil anymore, it will not matter in the slightest when she will have to look at sora if she were to ever find out.

how afraid, angry and dejected she would look when finding out, and how she will go on the defense/offense because of how much this will overwhelm her.

because when echo looks at her own shadow, she sees herself for what she is. she knows what she is, be it out of shame or guilt.

but when sora will look at it, she will see a tall, contorting and menacing shadow, towering over with a bright cyan eye doing nothing but looking at her, as if tempting her to make the next move.

and she defends herself. from someone she knows will not harm her. she raises her arms up in self defense from a hand that would never hurt her more than the world has already did.

she knows echo will not hurt her. and thats why she is afraid.

Oh my oh my OH MY, Sinnoh!!! YES YES YES!

HOW!!! IN THE WORLD!!! Are you so good at crawling into my head and creating these vivid analysis/snippets on my OCs??? I've barely shared ANY information about Echo and Sora because I've been wanting to hoard most of my stuff for when my fic is finally finished... but... I think you've broken my resolve a bit, if I'm entirely honest.

You know what? I'm so inspired by your accuracy and eagerness to talk about my girls that I'm gonna forgo my crippling anxiety regarding my writing skills and instead post a snippet of my WIP fic here as a treat for you. A teaser, if you will. Since I have no idea when the fic in question will actually be done and ready (or when I will be satisfied with it, cause the thing is currently 36,000 words and still slowly climbing). And now you've got me eager to share SOMETHING of my fic with you and anyone that might want to take a peek at it.

Please enjoy this conversation between Dusknoir and Echo. The topic deals a lot with what you'd described up above!! c:

[Note: this is an unedited part of my fic because I am still in the process of writing and it may change in the future, so please be gentle w/ me but I'd love to read any thoughts/comments that pop up while reading!! pls send asks or replies or anything really cause I love you guys]

+++ +++ +++ +++ +++ +++ +++ +++ +++ +++ +++ +++ +++ +++

“I’m going to tell you something now, and you are going to listen.” Echo commands with a sharp bite in her voice that Dusknoir cannot fathom ignoring. He pauses and then offers a slow nod, waiting, wondering what she could possibly desire to tell him at a time like this, of all things.

Minutes pass as Echo remains rooted in place, still as her own shadow, and her eyes dart around as she stares at the patches of dry grass and sand beneath her paws. Her claws clench and unclench, digging into the earth like daggers as the wind of the forest (it’s trees so close, just behind them, a looming sort of presence that could engulf them whole) whistles through the surrounding branches, carrying stray leaves of many bright greens through the chilling breeze. Dusknoir watches them dance around Echo, twirling, floating down, down, down… but it’s quiet, too quiet, and Dusknoir feels a shiver pass through him when Echo’s voice finally rings out through the silence.

"When I evolved, Sora was petrified," She says, nearly a whisper, an admission that melts away her confidence and appears to bring her a flood of both shame and regret. Her face twists up then, strangely, like she’d felt a twinge of pain from somewhere deep inside the very fabric of her own soul and was unable to quell it. "She couldn’t even bring herself to look at me most days. At first, my appearance… well, it reminded her too much of you. And eventually of someone I used to be.”

Someone I used to be. At that, Dusknoir’s immediate reaction is to recall Echo’s previous life as a human, as the miserable shell of a creature surviving alongside Grovyle that he’d relentlessly hunted in the dark future. A human made of contempt and anger and apathy, who never smiled or laughed or cried or screamed like the old legends said humans would-- an entity that simply existed rather than lived. An echo of a life long dead and buried. But, judging by her tone, by her voice, by some uneasy intuition itching in the back of his mind like a swarm of pestilent Ninjask… he knows that she means something else entirely. Something that she isn’t willing to share. And frankly, that concept utterly terrifies him.

Someone I used to be. Dusknoir wants to speak, to break his own silence, wants to ask the myriad of questions bubbling up in his throat because this isn't the first time she's hinted at another life beyond being human, but those questions die at the source like a flame doused in water. And always the coward, coward, coward, instead he takes the easy way out by doing nothing at all. Whether Echo notices his surge of inner conflict or not-- the nervous wring of his hands and the tremble in his spine that he cannot control under her gaze-- she does not react.

“I’d take a step and Sora would flinch away.” Echo confesses, her markings flickering with light before going dark and dead, as if her body wished to snuff them out entirely, a deep seated rejection, a self-loathing so strong that Dusknoir cannot help but recognize it and empathize, and his heart aches, “It took ages for her to stop shaking when I’d speak. To stop looking at me like-- like I was going to…” 

Echo grimaces like she’s enduring waves of grueling torture and doesn’t finish that string of thought, but it’s not hard to make an educated guess on what went unsaid. Like I was going to betray her. Hurt her. Break her heart. She’s been through so much already and I couldn’t bear to be another influence in the history of her suffering. I hate myself because of how I made her feel. When her eyes went wide in fear and through them I could see myself staring back like some sort of burden, some sort of curse.

“I am not my past.” Proud and true, Echo straightens up and holds her head high, a spark igniting in her eyes, a glint of determination, a will to keep going and going despite such circumstances and strife, despite this horrid, unspeakable past that haunts her so, “And I am definitely not you. It’s taken a while, but I know that much now. I’ve accepted it.”

I am not my past. And I am definitely not you.

A sigh, a breath, and Echo glances at him with a certain sorrow that cannot be described, a sorrow that lingers even through the veil of her tenacity, "But no matter how I feel, no matter my conviction, my shadows still find ways through the cracks. Every time I think I'm getting a grip and that I might finally understand myself… I change all over again." She admits, sounding more angry and tired than defeated now-- like a mirror of her old self, her human self that had clawed and damned and cursed him, despised him more than anything. "I hate it. I hate that I never truly know who I am. That I have to learn about my past through stories others tell me, or through fragments of twisted, broken memories that I wouldn't wish on anyone. Through conflict and pain and… and..."

"Echo," Dusknoir murmurs her name softly, an offering, a potential escape if only she would wish to drop the subject and forget this conversation had ever happened-- if she'd overstepped and needed an excuse to back out, a diversion, an understanding. And briefly, Dusknoir wonders why she is opening up about this particular information, why she would delve into something so vulnerable, so personal. Why she would bring up this hurtful history when it obviously brings her great discomfort.

And then, he gets an answer.

“You’re lucky, Dusknoir." There it is, that wildfire burning in her eyes again. A spark that’s new and bold and startling. But lucky? No, never. He'd have to disagree, accounting the mountain of evidence that was his life and regrettable deeds.

"You already know exactly who you are and what you’ve done, and most importantly why. You have more than a tattered picture of yourself that reflects broken answers. And you can change with that knowledge. I see you trying.” She tells him, searching, looking for something so deeply and Dusknoir wishes he knew what it could be so that he could give it to her, because he would, he would gladly give it to her without a second thought if it meant they could be close again. But he isn’t a fool, and he’s wise enough to know they’ll never be like they were before. “And if somehow I could change, even as half-assed as I have. Well, then what’s your excuse?”

You can do it, say her unspoken words, I believe in you.

[moonshine-nightlight]

will you post the complete story? like along with the shorts you made before?

for the werebear story? yup thats the plan

i think once i finish i'll make one post on here with all of them together and i'll put it up on AO3 as one story as well. not sure about the timing on that though

not to plug my own stuff too much lol but if ur looking for something of mine, with similarities to the werebear heat story, to read while you wait:

'Snapped' has a similar 'i'm in heat but we cant mate because u dont want to and its dangerous' but with an alien

'Finally Woken' has heat smut at the end with a naga but the story overall is friends to lovers and pretty fluffy

'Sacrifice' is about someone dubiously sacrificed (to a forest god) to help the town, via the council

otherwise, i'm pretty focused on this story and am trying to run with it as fast i can lol i've also decided to split the next chapter in two after all, which means it'll hopefully b up soon

[neonteeth]

i was going through my little fan cast / face ref notes and now i'm thinking about loghain and marilis again.