#so have the dialogue and make it as dark or even somewhat fluffy | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

the-insomniac-emporium · 1 year

Note

hello, me again, & I’m sorry if I missed any of your guidelines for requests—but I see that yours are open & I really like your writing! 👀👀 may I request anything fluffy/angsty with Vi/reader? (Or if you’re not writing for her anymore, literally anyone 😂) maybe reader feeling insecure & Vi reassuring them? (But if not that’s okay sjdjdkd)

First off, lemme just say asdfghjkll I meant to have this done months ago, very sorry about the wait! I got most of it done before the holidays hit and I kinda just flailed around for a bit. Also, technically I said I wouldn't be taking Arcane requests yet (because I had a bunch of ideas for Arcane fics I wanted to finish first), but I'm allowed to break my own rules, so~

To Exist Is Enough

Genre: Fluff, comfort Rating: T, maybe? There's a few mildly suggestive lines, but only in the sense that it implies/references past activities Summary: You're feeling a bit insecure today, and Vi does her best to help. Even if she can't make you love yourself right away, she can try to ease your pain. // Alternatively: Somewhat inspired by some posts I've seen talking about unlearning self hatred by starting with self tolerance- you do not have to love your body to tolerate it, to understand that it is useful, that it is a container for your mind. I am not wording this well, oop Notes: Gender neutral reader (for my fellow enbies), referenced + established issues with body image and anxiety, I'm not 100% confident on some of the dialogue, Vi calls the reader "sweets" as a pet name, Caitlyn is mentioned once but only in a friendship context

She knows- always, without fail, more often a blessing than a curse. Whenever your heart trembles, whenever doubts creep up like vines weaving themselves through the cracks of your mind, she knows. It is a sixth sense. A work of magic, almost, the way she knows your patterns as thoroughly as she knows her own. Today proves to be no different than any other, at least in this regard.

“Hey,” Vi says, her smile evident by the way it curves her tone, even within this single syllable. From where you lay, in the dark, you cannot see anything but her silhouette. She’s resting against the doorframe, peering into the bedroom with what you can only assume is gentle concern. “Mind if I turn the light on?” Murmuring your assent, you untuck yourself from your blankets, raising a tired hand to wipe the sleep from your eyes. Soon enough there’s a familiar weight next to you, and through your squinting you can make out Vi’s warm smile. As always, your heart flutters at the sight.

“G’morning,” you mumble, before shifting to rest your head on your girlfriend’s shoulder. It wouldn’t be hard to fall back asleep. There’s a comfort that comes with Vi’s presence, a sense of safety and warmth; a scent too, come to think of it. It grows stronger as you lean into her, face pressed against her neck, breathing in a heavenly mix of undercity spices and Piltovan floral soap (a moving-in gift from Caitlyn). Something about the combination suits her, and you’ve grown to love the sharp contrast. Nowhere felt as much like home as her embrace, and you are quick to lose yourself in the feeling.

“No morning kiss, sweets?” Vi eventually teases. A blush overtakes your cheeks as you sheepishly pull back just far enough to give her what she wanted. Although the kiss is brief, it is more than enough to make your heart skip a beat; and when you catch sight of Vi’s loving gaze in the aftermath? Oh, the entirety of the world was a million miles away, in that moment, nothing existed but the two of you. “Mmm,” she whispers, only daring to break the silence so that she may showcase her affection, “there’s the pretty face I missed so much. You’ve been hiding it from me all morning.”

It’s not her fault that the words make you wince, of course, but she falters all the same. Anxiety had been gnawing at your heart all morning, painfully repeating an age old worry. Your thoughts had followed this path so often, for so long, that they might as well have worn-down the very flesh of your mind, carving in deeper and deeper grooves. Escaping this cycle was something Vi endeavored to help you accomplish. Somedays you even believed her when she complimented your appearance- sometimes it just felt like she was going through the motions, consoling you because that was simply her nature.

“Hey, sweets, please look at me,” Vi says, the words knocking you out of your own head. Honestly, you hadn’t even realized that your eyes were closed. Taking a deep breath, you look back up at her, forcing yourself to give a weak smile. “There we go, that’s better. Can you unclench your jaw for me?” Her fingers gently trace along the edge of your face, and she can feel the exact moment you do as she asks, her eyes gaining a self-satisfied twinkle. Then she speaks again, the words slow, not quite hesitant, more so cautious. “Do you want to talk about it?”

You almost scoff in response. Do you want to talk about it? It. It. The elephant in the room. The big, bad, thing Better Left Unnamed. Vi was just being gentle (and you know this), but you’ve still got anger in your chest. Just not at her, not really, and you take another deep breath before allowing yourself to respond.

“What, are you going to spend another hour trying to convince me that I’m beautiful?... I’m not sure that’s what I need right now,” you answer, at last, doing your best to keep your tone as light as possible. Maybe even with a twinge of mirth. Admittedly your success is mixed, but Vi doesn’t seem to mind. If anything, she seems more sympathetic, and she starts rubbing gentle circles into your back as she holds you.

“I have an idea for something different,” she starts to say, leaning in close until her breath tickles your ear, “if you’re up for it.” A moment passes, then two, as a blush creeps up your face, your mind reeling with predictions for what was to come. Except Vi isn’t wearing her trademark smirk, nor are her fingers already seeking out certain sensitive spots. Whatever she has in mind… you get the feeling that it’s more than just a fun distraction.

So you nod; after all, what do you have to lose?

“Alright, sweets, lay back for me, okay? Get nice and comfortable,” Vi instructs, in a voice she normally reserves for certain activities. A mix of curiosity and excitement builds up in your chest, and you’re more than eager to do what she says. Once you start getting settled, your girlfriend explains what exactly she had in mind. “I want you to love every inch of your body the same way I do, and I know how hard it can be to get out of your own head when it comes to shit like this. You can’t force love, not even for yourself, right?

“That’s why we are going to start smaller. You are so much more than just beautiful, sweets, and I want you to be able to hold back your hate, at least a little bit. Tolerance is still better than hatred,” she says, slowly trailing her fingers along your side as she does. Then her hands wander back up, stopping to rest on your biceps. “Mmm, these? These are the arms that hold me close, night after night,” her hands slide down to your own, “and these are the hands that have touched me, caressed me. Pressed against all the right spots, soothed my aches and wrapped my wounds, working next to mine all the time.

“Now,” she continues, grinning, taking on a hint of mischief as her hands move ever downwards, “these are the legs that carried you to me, through everything that life threw at us. These are the thighs that give me a place to rest… and wrap around my-”

“Vi!” You interject, blushing heavily, knowing exactly what she was getting at. Both of you are smiling, and your objection devolves into quiet laughter. Something in your chest feels lighter than it did just a few minutes ago. “Maybe save that part for tonight, alright?” Still smiling as bright as ever, she gives a quiet hum of agreement, nodding before moving upwards. It may simply be your imagination, but you’re fairly certain that there’s a light dusting of pink on her cheeks as she speaks.

“Where were we… ah, right,” Vi chirps, tucking a finger under your chin and letting her gaze linger on your lips. Then her eyes meet yours, her thumb pressing against the corner of your mouth. For a moment you are rendered breathless. The way she was looking at you, the love and tender appreciation, the loveliest brand of desire. “These are the lips that give me good morning kisses, the mouth that tells me how you love me, that whispers all the comfort in the world when I need it.” Pausing, she places a tiny kiss on the tip of your nose before giving you a cheesy grin. “That nose? Perfect. Adorable.”

By now her energy is downright infectious. A smile dances on your lips, and you almost want to interrupt her with a kiss, but something tells you to wait a little longer.

“I could stare at those gorgeous eyes all day, sweets, but I think you already knew that,” Vi teases, taking a moment to brush her thumb across the top of your cheek, right under your eye. A lovely glint flashes in her eyes, and you just know that she’s as tempted to kiss you as you are to kiss her. But she resists, trailing her fingers down to your stomach. Instinctively you take a sharp breath at the touch. She knows your heart, however, and makes this even more gentle than before. When she speaks, it is with the whisper of devotion. A prayer dedicated to only you. “This is the stomach I wrap my arms around, the place I tie myself to at night, where I hold myself to you.”

Slowly, she shifts back upwards a small degree, finalizing her ritual with something a tad less intense.

“And this is the chest I get to lay my head on, listening to the way your heart races when we’re together. The reminder that we’re alive, and you aren’t leaving any time soon.” As she speaks, one hand rests directly over your heart, the other seeks out your own and holds tight. Pain dares to rear its ugly head for a brief, unholy second, flickering in her eyes. You know she is remembering those she has lost- and you know that she is silently promising not to lose you. The fear vanishes as quickly as it came. In its place, you find nothing but love.

“Thank you, Vi,” you say, after what feels like a couple minutes of easy quiet. Before your girlfriend can shrug off your praise, you continue, giving her hand a squeeze as you do. “I mean it, seriously. Sometimes I get stuck inside my own head… but you always seem to know how to get me back home. I’ll always love you for that. For everything you do, and everything you are.” In response, Vi gets even closer, peppering your face with kisses, then resting her face against your neck, hiding her blush from you.

“I love you too, sweets,” she mumbles, her breath tickling your throat. Her arms are right where they belong, curled around you, just as she had described. Maybe she hadn’t magically cured your ills, but she had certainly convinced you of her love, and made your self-doubt grow quieter for today. “Now c’mon,” she says after a minute or two, raising her head to look into your eyes with a lovestruck expression. “We should grab something for breakfast before it’s time for lunch.”

And just like she had lifted the fog from over your eyes, she takes your hand and helps you up, ready to face the day by your side.

#vi x reader #vi arcane x reader #arcane imagines

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majestyeverlasting · 3 years

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hey, I absolutely love your writing!!!❤️

Can you maybe write a Bucky x reader with the fluffy prompt 31?

(the reader is afraid of something and she lashes out on Bucky... like she rambles on, and on to Bucky so that she runs out of breath... and Bucky forces her into a hug, which she eventually relaxes into and then tells her the promt)

If you can't write this, I'll totally understand... enjoy your day🌼🌼

♡ Hi! Thank you, I'm happy to hear that you like my writing! I love this request, and hope I was able to capture the essence of what you wanted. I know you've been waiting, so thanks for being patient! To summarize, the reader's doubts lead her and Bucky to explore the idea of what it means to add value to the world. That of course leads to some intimate dialogue and soft moments. Towards the end, I played around with an idea that relates to Bucky having enhanced senses, and I think it worked out pretty well. But I suppose that's up for you guys to decide. 🌼

♡ Prompt 31: “Shh, I can hear your heartbeat.”

What Comes Naturally

There was an abundance of memories to hold onto as summer began to bid farewell. Each of them sweet, and owning a small fraction of your heart. The days, once long, were beginning to grow shorter, and nature itself was slowing to the new rhythm of the atmopshere. It beautiful time of transition.

But a rather peculiar round of thoughts had started to cultivate within your mind. They were dense and somewhat dark, awaiting the moment in which they could release their rain.

Their accumulation had been on the basis of value. The value you were adding to the world, specifically; was it enough? Could you be working more, creating more? Did strangers walk away remembering you? Did you better the lives of those around you? There were as many doubts as there were questions. And they all seemed to have come out of nowhere, plaguing you suddenly.

It was an unfortunate headspace to have fallen into. All things considered, you should’ve been happy. Happier than you were, at least, because it was the dawn of your favorite season. Yet you’d woken up and found yourself wondering if you were doing enough.

That afternoon rolled around quickly. You were curled up on the couch when Bucky returned home from his routine run. He lifted his hand in a wave, to which you responded with a quiet hi. The earbuds you had in played a song that served as a feeble distraction from your worries. You watched as he went to the refrigerator and pulled out a bottle of water, taking a few big gulps. He focussed on you as he drank.

Then he set the bottle on the kitchen island, and dabbed his mouth with the back of his hand. A furrow formed between his brows as sweat glistened above along his hairline. “You okay, doll?”

The question barely registered, but you read his lips. Before speaking, you paused the song. “Yeah, m’fine. Just relaxing”

You might as well have been glass with the way his gaze went through you. “Okay, well, I’m gonna go hop in the shower,” he said, running a hand through his hair. A brief moment of silence passed. “We’ll talk when I’m done, okay?” There was a knowing to his tone.

All you did was nod, gratefully.

A couple minutes after he left the kitchen, you ended up padding to the bedroom as well. Rather than bothering with another distraction, you simply laid on your back across the bed. You stared at the ceiling as the sound of running shower water emitted from the bathroom. And though it was faint, you could also hear the timbre of Bucky’s voice as he hummed a tune. You closed your eyes, finding solace in the fact that he was near, and willing to listen.

By the time he came out, you’d dozed off into a light sleep. As soon he gave your knee a few gentle squeezes, your eyes fluttered open. There was a small smile on his face as he looked down at you. Damp locks of his hair fell into his forehead, and a beige bath towel was wrapped around his waist. You sat up with a soft grunt, and he pressed a quick kiss to your forehead before moving to get dressed. You caught of whiff of his cedar body wash in the process.

“Love you,” you murmured, rubbing your eyes.

“Love you too, pretty girl,” he said. “Wanna start telling me ‘bout what’s going on in that mind of yours?”

For a few seconds, all you did was look down at your socked feet and kick them. You heard a couple of dresser drawers open as Bucky saught out the clothes he was going to wear. “I feel like there’s something more I could be doing,” you finally said, turning to look at him. He’d tossed his towel onto the bed put on a pair of blue boxers.

“Something more?” He repeated as he pulled a black shirt over his head. “What do you mean?” His eyes met yours with genuine curiosity, wanting to understand.

You sighed, picking at the bed comforter. “The world is so big and people are out there doing so many different things, and it feels like I’m not doing nearly as enough. Like there are ways for me to step up that I’m not acknowledging,” you explained. “Like I’m missing the mark.”

Bucky put on a pair of sweat shorts before walking to take a seat beside you on the edge of the bed. He looked intently into your eyes. “What mark do you think you’re missing?”

“That’s the thing, I don’t know,” you said, tone raising slightly. “There are people like you who go out and save the world, and do all of these crazy, larger than life things. People who have huge, innovative ideas that change entire industries. People who massive followings because they’re encouraging, or funny, and whatnot. And they all add so much to the world.”

Bucky thought about interjecting, but decided to let you continue. “It seems like I’m hardly doing anything. I at least try to leave a good impression on everyone I meet. And I try to extend the best of myself to the people I care about.” You turned your gaze from him, and directed it to the floor.

“But now there’s something’s telling me that I should be trying harder. And I don’t even know what that’s supposed to look like.” Bucky had began to run a comforting hand up and down your thigh. You released a harsh huff of air, not even realizing you’d been working yourself up. “I don’t even know where all of this is coming from. I just feel off, and...”

You fell silent when he wrapped his vibranium arm around your shoulders, and pulled you into him. Pressing a kiss to your temple, then your cheek, his stubble brushing against your skin. There was warmth radiating from his body, and he smelled good. So good. You let your head tilt to rest on his shoulder, and looked down to where your knee was brushing against his. Suddenly, it seemed as though everything you’d previously said was immature and incomprehensible.

“I’m sorry,” you started. “Maybe I’m just being—”

“Shh,” he coaxed. Then he said something that caught you off guard, and took your mind off of everything else, “I can hear your heartbeat.”

“Wait, what?” You breathed. “No you can’t.” When Bucky chuckled, light and airy, you lifted your head. “Can you really?” Your voice was soft with a disbelieving edge.

“Yes,” he said, letting his arm slip from around you. “Lay down for a second.” You did, and he fell onto his back as well.

There the two of you were, chests rising with your breaths, looking up at the ceiling.

You waited for him to explain himself or say something else, but he didn’t for a while. The air was quiet long enough that you figured it was only a matter of time before you began to hear your own heartbeat, or possibly even his. You didn’t, of course, and Bucky eventually broke the ambience that had established itself.

“I can hear it,” he confirmed, turning to look at you. “But just barely ‘cause it’s not as strong now.”

“Because I’ve calmed down?” He hummed in agreement. You studied his handsome features and began to smile. "I didn’t know could do that,” you told him. “I mean, I knew your hearing was good, but to be able to hear a heart beating is… cool.”

“Yeah. I just have to be close enough and focus extremely hard,” he explained. “And you wanna know what I have to say about adding value to the world?”

You’d almost forgotten about what you expressed to him in the moments prior. Almost. “What?”

He propped himself up on his metal arm, and placed his flesh one on your chest over your heart. He could feel the gentle thump against his palm. “This, right here, is all you need to know that you’re adding value; the fact that you’re alive,” he said, smiling when you placed your hands overtop of his. “Everyday you’re adding value in a way only you can. Even if it’s not always through some big and over the top demonstration.

“Just be and do what comes naturally. One day that might be saving a city, another day that may be making somebody laugh. Who’s to say they aren’t equally important in the end? They both effect how the future plays out, right?” He quirked his brows.

It was moments like that when you realized just how much of life he'd lived and how much wisdom he'd earned over the years. Even if you had've racked your brain, you wouldn't have found anything capable of standing up against his words. You took his hand and pressed a kiss to his palm.

“Right.”

Thank you so much for reading! Consider sticking around for more. <3

#yay it's 3AM #Bucky barnes #bucky imagine #bucky x female reader #bucky x you #bucky fluff #bucky fanfic #bucky x reader #avengers fluff #the avengers #marvel #marvel fluff #winter soldier #sebastian stan #fatws

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kookiessugababy · 3 years

Text

Sweet Revenge (min yoongi) (updated)

Scenario- a quiet night in blown by Yoongis deafening jealousy

Warnings🚨- jealousy// hickies// pet names// one shot

Hope you enjoy <3

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You stumbled to the door of the boys apartment to hear the muffled chatter of them all through the door- your hand reaching into your pocket to retrieve your keys. Your feet felt light and your head dizzy, nothing making quite as much sense as you’d like, which was made greatly obvious as you fell into the heavy door as you entered. The room was softly lit in an orange light, and the floor was scattered with pizza boxes and share bags of confectionary, ruining the usual modern cleanliness of the decor. The seven boys were sat on the floor, some on the sofa, joking amongst themselves in their usual manner, cans of alcohol in hands. You loved spending time with them and they had been so welcoming ever since Namjoon had introduced you, encouraging you to spent most of your nights in their spare guest room which they had decorated with dusky pink and grey- a surprise for your previous birthday.

They hushed as you stumbled through the doorframe, your dress spilling from your shoulders and riding up your legs. You could barely work out their faces until Joonie approached you, wrapping his arms around you and holding you close. He always got concerned after you had been out, especially if he didn’t know who you were with. The night always ended with him having to care for you and despite your feelings of nausea, you embraced your best friend who was stroking your hair softly. “y/n you must stop going out partying you silly thing” Joon softly lectured, in an attempt to be polite. You shook your head and giggled as he pulled you back, readjusting the straps on your dress to maintain your modesty. He laughed a little and shook his head; “Get changed and come sober up. There’s some pizza for you, idiot.” You heard Junkook shuffle towards the two of you, and in his plate was a cold slice that looked somewhat miserable upon a creased paper plate they had set aside for your return, leaving it on the coffee table by your legs.

The cool water felt divine as it hit your face, slightly dampening the ends of your hair as they fell at your shoulders. You stared at your reflection as the water fell from the faucet, eyes still slightly hazy. “Y/n please hurry, I’m dying for the bathroom” Hoseok yelled from the other side of the door, the handle jutting as he pulled to get in. You sighed, opening the door to him smiling in relief. “I was starting to think you’d flushed yourself away. Aren’t those my shorts?” he joked, giving you the right to roll your eyes at his attempt to wind you up. “We’re waiting for you! We were going to play cards against humanity” he announced, before pushing passed you to firmly lock the door behind you.

An hour later you found yourself wrapped in a fluffy blanket between Taehyung and Jimin, your head on Jimin’s lap as the rest of the members sat around in a questionable circle. You had begun to sober up- still remaining tipsy but you now matched the state of the others, who were endorsed in the rude card game being played. It made little to no sense, with fits of giggles erupting every few seconds over minor occurrences, but the atmosphere was comfortable. You’d talked a lot with Jimin tonight, who you knew very little compared got the rest of the boys considering how long it had been since Namjoon had introduced you. He had a lovely nature about him and you couldn’t stop thinking about how he looked down on you when you spoke, as if he was carefully reading you, or prompting you to speak more. Your hair was tangled between his fingers mindlessly as he laughed with the others, before reaching your shoulder and rubbing it lightly. Your eyes were groggy and your body relaxed- all stressors in your body alleviated as you sank further into his leg. A low chuckle led from his parted lips as he smiled at you. “Comfortable?” he taunted as the others laughed, your eyes closing as you nodded softly. You found yourself drifting to a light slumber as he comforted you, the muffled dialogue a slight hum as you slowly slipped out of consciousness.

You were rudely awoken twenty minutes later to a prodded shoulder, Jin leaning over you and Jimin, his hair falling close to your face as you slowly opened your eyes. “We’re heading to bed, y/n, so you should too” he whispered, showing a caring smile as you raised gently by the arm from the other boys lap. You were greeted with a hug and a peck on the forehead from Jimin once you had both made your way to the corridor, before leaving to his room. The hallway was unnervingly silent, the empty walkway shouting as your toes hit the floorboards, trying to silently make your way through to the spare room. Raising your hand out of your sleeve, the cold handle was just about in your grip but before you could swing it open, a large hand grabbed your wrist, another on your waist.

You craned your neck to find yourself faced with a dark silhouette, the little light reflecting off familiar silver strands of hair. “Yoongi?” you choked out, shocked by his sudden appearance. You’d spent little to no time with him tonight, and you were now worried that this had upset him. His brow was furrowed, face serious, frustrated and vengeful. You could see the shape of his tongue pressing against his cheek as he peered down on you, eyes running up and down your figure in a way they hadn’t before. It seemed more desperate. A silk dressing gown hid little, as you sported some comfy sleeping shorts and a small cami vest, in which he seemed amused by to your confusion. Yoongi was one of your closest friends out of the group, with many finding your relationship as flirty and slightly over the top, but you were both very confident around one another so neither would want it any other way- but this behaviour from him was not normal and his tightening grasp startled you. “Can I talk to you, y/n?” and despite the questioning nature, it felt a demand as he pulled you into the room, pushing you against the wall. He waited in silence until the door softly closed itself; meanwhile you focused on silencing your breathing and hoping your heart was not to come out of your throat.

You stumbled as your back pressed to the cold, your gown dropping to your shoulders as you desperately searched for words. “Yoongi what is wrong? What are you doing?” you demanded, his stare growing harsh as his index finger tilted your chin to meet his gaze. His eyes were dark and illuminated by the weak glare of the lampshade, his soft lips now pursed. The yellow beam exaggerated his sharp features, his jaw clenched. You couldn’t help but admire how he looked at that moment, almost forgetting his hands hanging to your wrist. He seemed to inhale through his teeth as he watched your confused features relax, but seemed pleased with your little resentment to his restraint. “What was that? With Jimin? Why did he look at you like that?” his voice remained stern and low, spitting with jealousy. After months of assuming Yoongi was simply protective of you, you questioned the possibility of him possibly being envious of people you had encountered and brung to the apartment- but surely he would have made it more obvious? Acted upon it sooner? You couldnt help but to quietly question him, your voice low as you searched for answers. “Min Yoongie, are you jealous?” you taunted, raising your eyebrow. However, the usual playful reply was met with a tighter grip on your wrists, heating up your cheeks as he shifted closer, noses touching. “Don’t play with me, y/n. Bratty girls don’t get anywhere in life.” Something shifted in your stomach as your eyes moved to his leg, which was inches from being between your thighs. You were confused and slightly taken aback by his harshness, but you could feel your face blushing as he stared directly at you. His arms pulled yours up above your head, leaving you feeling exposed, and despite the strangeness of it all, something felt right. “Y/n, you can’t be like this. You know you can’t. Flirting with the boys and making me stare at your pretty face while they get to touch you. Do you not think I find it hard enough seeing you wander in and out meeting other men? Bringing them to your room? I’ve heard you gloat to Namjoon about your dates, and all the boys who want you so bad. Don’t you think I want you bad, y/n? Jimin couldn’t touch you the way I could if you let me.” Your eyes were wide, your lashes brushing your face as your lips parted- almost in a state of shock. You had, undoubtedly, thought of Yoongi like this before, however you never would had even thought he felt the same. It almost made some sense as you tried to pull the pieces together, but very little of you could hold concentration as you felt his lips brush against yours. The tension was sliced with a heated kiss, his lips soft and hungry for yours. His tongue made its way to your mouth, his hands exploring your waist and running to your breast. The cold shock of his rings hugging his fingers felt like a knife against the warmth of your skin, core tightening as he pushed his knee to where you needed it most. You attempted to push your body down to it as your breathing hitched between messy kisses, lightly grinding against his clothed leg, your shorts separating you further.

“Stop” he commanded, pulling his leg away. His bulge was obvious as you glanced down to his grey joggers, a pain running through your core as you yearned for a touch. You felt yourself grow wet under his touch, his stare enticing you. His eyes wandered past your features, taking in your body and how weak you looked under him. He pushed the gown that sat upon your shoulders onto the floor, carefully watching you as if he was going to miss something if he looked away. He groaned as he took in your figure, his hands running and teasing your curves. “You’re so fucking pretty, kitten”, he hummed, tangling your hair between his fingers. You took a deep breath as he pushed his buldge towards your clothes heat, touching ever so lightly against you, whining as you felt yourself grow needy. “M-min Yoongie” you whined, as he tugged your hair softly, moving your face so he could plant his lips against your collar bones, marking your neck with deep purple and red. “Baby, what I would do right now to fuck you senseless is unimaginable. You do not know how long I’ve wanted you” He traced his arms down your tummy to your shorts, where he tugged the string lightly to ask you permission. You pushed your hips forward, nodding as he pulled them down your legs painfully slow. Kicking them to the side, he knelt between your legs, his breath hot against your thighs. “I need you Yoongi. I really need you” you plead, your underwear growing uncomfortable as the fabric clung to you, damp. “Oh kitten I know but you were naughty. Jimin wants his cock all up in your pretty mouth now and you don’t know where you belong.” His finger ran over your covered slit, his finger glistening with your arousal as you whined, pleading for more. “Yoongi no I want you now!” You demanded. However, a frown met his face. He ripped your underwear from you, before undressing you completely. He stood over you, completely clothed, his arm holding him up against the wall as searched your bare body. “Beg for me baby. Tell me who’s little slut you are” he whispered in your ear, nibbling it lightly. You felt euphoric and weak- surging feelings you never felt before, stomach clenching as you stood for him, exposed. “Yoongi please I’m all yours. I need you. Please Yoongi I really need you” you whined, a smirk plastering his face in satisfaction.

His face met your now dripping heat, tongue softly reaching for your clit. He licked up your thighs, massaging them with his palms as your legs buckled under his touch. He sucked your clit harshly, the swelling from arousal finally replaced by his lips. You gasped in shock as his fingers made their way up towards your heat. You felt the tip of his middle finger tease your hole, running patterns as he continued to pay attention to your clit, teeth regularly nibbling lightly, causing a strange but pleasurable discomfort that was met by soft kitten licks. Without warning, he pushed two of his long fingers inside of you, pulsing in and out of you. Air was pushed out from you as you tried to keep up with the fast pace, whining and moaning while he continued to kiss your clit. “That’s it babygirl. Let them hear your pretty noises for me.” Yoongi mumbled against you, continuing to pay you his full attention. You lower stomach tightened and your heat began to ache, clenching his fingers. At this point, he continued at his pace, slapping your other thigh with his spare hand. Your legs began to shake ever so slightly and you could not hold yourself for any longer. “C-cum Yoongi. I need to cum.” you cried, wincing as the contact between you both was cut short as he pulled away right before your climax. Your jaw dropped as your pussy dripped, marking your thighs as you watched him move away from your heat. His hair was tousled and messy from your grip, lips glossy with your arousal- glistening as he smirked. “Kitten, do you really think I’d let you finish?” He sniggered, kissing your forehead lightly. You were lost for words as the pain between your thighs only got worse, whining for more attention. Yoongi looked at you pitifully, before smiling, bringing you close as he held you up from your shaking frame. “You have to earn it baby. I only let my slut cum when she knows she’s mine, and knows that she cannot flirt with others” he grinned, pulling off his shirt and pulling it over your shoulders. “I- Yoongi please don’t go!” You pleaded, your small hands grasping his waistband, his precum having ruined his joggers. You were warm and sweaty, thighs and neck bruised with his hickeys- claiming your body and marking it his own. His shirt hung off you, exposing every mark he left, the soft fabric stained with his sweet smell. He shook his head calmly, as if he had planned this all too well. His hand reached for the door as he pressed his lips against your lips softly- “goodnight my angel. i hope you sleep well” he smirked, quietly shutting the door behind him. You were left alone, needy, unfinished yet exhausted. Climbing between the covers left you feeling overwhelmed and almost angry at the boy, who had left you so desperate for his touch. Why did he leave you like this? Did he regret what he did?

— Your alarm rang at 9:00am as it did every morning. The light in your room danced through the pearl lace blinds, covering your sheets on the soft glow of the sun. Your thighs seemed to cramp up as you lifted yourself out of bed, but without sheer disregard, you made your way to the kitchen. The hallway was empty, with each bedroom door l left open, indicating their absence, the smell of a sweet concoction guiding you through the corridor. You found lethargy grasping you this morning- alot more than usual. You couldn’t quite remember what happened last night, as you were yet to shake off the early hour daze alongside ensuring you made it to breakfast in time before nothing was left. However, you were left to question your facade upon a greeting of questionable stares as you placed yourself at the marble island in the centre of the room. Nonchalant, you grasped the frosted glass of water that was sat at the table, finishing it at pace. You sighed in relief as it soothed your throat and woke you up slightly. “Good morning y/n!” Joon sang, pushing a large serving of sugar waffles and chopped fruit in your direction. Their was a queer rigidity in the room, leaving an awkward silence as you listened to the pan sputter on the stove. You were set back by the lack of communication but greeted Namjoon in return. “Does anyone know where Yoongi is? He’s going to miss breakfast.” Tae finally iterrogated, breaking the silence. He threw a raised eyebrow in your direction, before wandering his eyes to the clothes you were wearing. With that, your heart stopped, head sinking into your plate, finally remembering why you were so tired. How could you let it slip your mind? You looked down at the shirt hanging from your neck in a sudden fear, realising how exposed you were. Dark bruises were planted all over your neck and thighs, and you dropped your fork in panic and embarrassment, the clatter ringing in your ears . With this, Yoongi sauntered through the door frame, yawning as he picked his plate from the table. “Morning” he mumbles to the boys, brushing past your back. “Nice shirt y/n” he taunts, winking playfully, before disappearing off into the lounge with his food. Your face turned red as Namjoon laughed over the counter, rolling his eyes playfully. Pursing your lips, you pushed yourself from the counter, quickly following Yoongis trail.

You were embarrassed and confused, with no idea how to feel about Yoongi. What did he mean, he wanted me for so long ? Then why would he leave you so desperate and wanting more? The room was glaring with the warmth of the sun, the large window wall televising the city in the brilliant morning glow. You were welcomed to the sight of a sleepy Yoongi quietly hunched over his breakfast, facing the skyscrapers and peacefully watching the clouds. His hair was messy, just like it was left last night- sporting the same joggers that were slightly stained. The golden reflection bounced off his face, his eyes shimmering and his complexion glowing. You seemed to find yourself admiring him, awing at the way his body looked as he relaxed in the quiet room. Despite your silence, he sensed your presence, indicating his knowledge with smile at his feet before turning in your direction. “Hey beautiful” hey hummed, patting the space next to him. You shook off your stare, all while remaining confused and dazed, you made your way over, slumping to his side. His toned arm reached around you, holding you confidently into his side and pinching your cheek softly. “Good morning Yoongie” you sighed. You were in hope to question last night, but before you had the chance he cut short your brainstorming with a soft kiss on your lips, causing your body to shake off the restlessness that cultivated upon your shoulders in the kitchen. You slightly smiled against his lips, a small sigh of relief falling from his mouth as he pulled away. You found yourself not entirely caring about wether anybody walked in, the feelings of lust washing over you, reminding you of the previous night as his eyes stared into yours. The silence was deafening yet comfortable, his hand adjusting the shirt he gave to you in an attempt hide your breasts that were close to visible above the hem. Yoongi seemed confident and sure, and yet you were left to fear that now everything would be awkward between the two of you. A few silent moments had passed, both of you drowning in thought, before Yoongi moved his hands to yours. “Y/n, I want you. I want to finish what we started but only if you can be mine- and only mine” he growled, keeping his voice low and quiet to ensure his privacy. “ Yoongi I- I’m confused. You just left me last night! I thought you regretted whatever it was” you squeaked, hair falling infront of your face as you dropped your head in worry. His eyes were diverted, scanning the marks he had left on you- his reminder that of how good he made you feel. A slight smirk glazed his face causing you to shift in your seat, his gaze causing you blush. You suddenly felt yourself needy for him to finish his work- for his touch and his voice calling you sweet names. Maybe you wanted him too. His hand traced your thigh, pushing the bottom of the shirt away to reveal deep red finger prints. Further it moved to your shorts, placing his cold hand upon your clothed heat, where you were met with a chuckle; “oh kitten no. That was just my revenge”

#min yoongi #yoongi smut #suga smut #bts smut #smut #smut drabble #bts drabble #bangtan smut #bts smut drabble #bts army #suga x reader #suga #bts suga smut

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hatterstan-shameblog · 3 years

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Okay so Aguni is sound asleep, just enjoying the few hours of peace he has, when there's a knock on the door. He ignores it, but the person just keeps knocking and knocking.

"Morizono, open the goddamn door!" he hears Takeru call, "This is an emergency!"

He groans to himself before standing up and opening the door.

"What?"

"So, remember that weird chonky cat Niragi found?"

"Yeah... what about it?"

"It's not fat... and is not a cat."

Where Hatter and apparently every other idiot at the Beach mistake a domesticated pregnant genet for a fat exotic cat. And it just gave birth on Hatter's bed.

I have no idea in what direction this is supposed to go lol but hopefully something chaotic.

alright I had to look up what a genet is and DAMN they are CUTE AS HELL and I’m love them v much

💖💖💖💖💖💖💖💖💖💖💖💖💖💖💖💖

Terminator

Rating: PG-13 for dialogue and like one drug reference

💖💖💖💖💖💖💖💖💖💖💖💖💖💖💖💖

Aguni Morizono is a simple man who enjoys simple pleasures.

He enjoys a healthy slathering of grape jelly on his toast. He enjoys watching the sunset reflect over the ocean. He enjoys watering his garden and reading the newspaper and taking naps on the sofa on Sunday afternoons after he’s finished his grocery shopping for the week.

What he does not particularly enjoy is being shaken awake by a borderline-frantic Takeru in the middle of the night.

Takeru insists that he has a good reason; that this is an emergency. Aguni reminds him that running out of marijuana does not qualify as an emergency, and pulls the blanket over his head in an attempt to shut the very exuberant man out.

But the aforementioned exuberant man refuses to be shut out, and he references the aforementioned emergency again—this time insisting that it is an actual real emergency and requires immediate attention. Aguni sincerely doubts this and tries his damnedest to fall back to sleep—a truly Herculean task, given Takeru’s incessant talking and the way he’s bouncing on the other side of the mattress like some kind of weird large puppy. Aguni is just about to enter the first misty moments of dozing off as Takeru says words like ‘Niragi’ and ‘cat’ and ‘bed’ and it’s all somewhat possible to ignore until he utters one word that makes Aguni sit straight up.

‘Babies.’

Now, ‘babies’ as a concept does not bother Aguni. He’s actually somewhat fond of them, the way they unabashedly stare at him on the train or in the park, eyes wide and fat little hands waving a clumsy ‘hello’ in his general direction. And if he waves back sometimes, well...that’s his business. (It’s only polite, after all.)

No, the issue here is that ‘babies’ and ‘the Borderlands’ sounds like a terrible, terrible mix. What’s worse is that said babies have, for some reason, been left in Takeru’s care. And, judging from Takeru’s presence in his room, the babies have been left alone.

It takes no time at all for Aguni to throw on a pair of pants and slip into his boots. It takes even less time for him to grab Takeru by the collar of his robe and physically drag him down the hall, the other man switching between heartfelt thank-you’s and desperate pleas for Aguni to be gentle when handling the raw silk of his ensemble.

Now, to those of us on the outside of Aguni’s brain, it may seem like he hasn’t thought this through; that he has tunnel-vision’d his way through the last two paragraphs without a logical thought as to how and why ‘babies’ may be present. That is simply not true. Aguni has considered that ‘babies’ could actually mean a number of things aside from ‘human infants’ and has thus compiled a short list of the three most likely candidates:

The spider plant he had placed on Takeru’s windowsill has propagated—or, as some would call it, ‘had babies.’ This is Aguni’s favorite option of the bunch. It is also the least likely.

Something about the cards. Although Aguni has never Takeru refer to them as ‘his babies,’ it is no secret that he is very protective of his prized collection. Seeing as this may or may not affect the entire Beach, it’s important for him to be aware of the situation.

Takeru is high as a goddamn kite and hallucinating. This is, unfortunately, the most likely scenario.

It is also important to mention that Aguni has taken a good look at his life and his choices throughout this ordeal, particularly when Takeru commented on the state of his biceps and made an off-color insinuation about the right one looking slightly more defined than the left—and then asked if he would like to discuss his love life, with an exaggerated raise of his eyebrows. Aguni chose not to comment. He also chose to push Takeru into the doorframe on the way into his suite, and took a smidge of pleasure when his head collided with the wood with a satisfying clunk-ing sound.

“Look,” Takeru says proudly, pointing a finger at the bed, “babies!”

Nestled in what a bulging nest of fluffy white blankets are...things. Fuzzy things. One big fuzzy thing, with sleepy eyes and what looks to be a long spotted tail wrapped around one, two, three tiny fuzzy things. When Aguni leans in to get a closer look, the big one quirks a corn-chip-shaped ear and gives him a wary glare.

“What,” Aguni asks, “in the goddamn—“

But before Aguni is able to finish his sentence, Takeru is giving him a stinging slap on the arm.

“Aguni Morizono,” he hisses, hands balled into fists and perched on his hips like a mother hen, “I will not have my children exposed to that kind of language.”

There are plenty of things wrong with what Takeru just said, but Aguni is having trouble getting past the idea that these...creatures have somehow been claimed by his very silly friend.

“Think about it,” Takeru continues, swanning his way past a very confused (and tired) Aguni to sit on the edge of the bed just behind the brood of fluffy individuals, “This lovely lady could have given birth on anyone’s bed...but she chose mine. Why do you think that is?”

“Because you leave the sheets all balled up in the middle and it’s the perfect place for an animal to make a nest?”

“Wrong, but I like how confident you sounded when you said it!”

With his hands pressed together and held in front of his lips, Takeru looks almost prayerful as he very seriously explains his theory.

“A woman alone-- heavily pregnant, scared, and lost in these cold and cruel Borderlands. Her thoughts shift to her young. Who will keep them safe? Who will help take care of them? That’s when her instincts took over,” Takeru opens his arms, the silken cuffs of his robe pooling around his elbows, “and, using her superior sense of smell, followed her nose to the den of the nearest alpha male for protection.”

Aguni wishes he could say that this is the dumbest thing he’s ever heard. He also wishes he had a cup of coffee (with a healthy glug of Bailey’s in there for good measure) before this whole event took place.

Takeru has since busied himself with the tiny new mother and her young, watching with gentle fascination as the newborns snuffle and snooze against her with unopened eyes and clumsy paws. When he reaches out a ring-bedecked hand to stroke along the bigger one’s head, she gives him a small growl and a pointed glare—to which he laughs and withdraws his touch, saying something cheeky about “the last time she let a man get too close” and quickly following it up with a promise to talk about it “after the kids are asleep.”

Takeru has just held up his hand for a high-five (which Aguni has decided to not reciprocate) when they hear a crash and then a bang and then the thundering thumpthumpthump of angry booted footsteps rapidly approaching their position in the bedroom. For some reason—a reason he’s not very keen to dwell upon at the current moment—Aguni instantly snaps into defense mode, hands curling into fists and shoulders squaring themselves in anticipation of a coming attack.

“WHERE. IS. TERMINATOR!?”

Niragi bursts into the room like a firework, all noise and flash and fire in his eyes. His knuckles strain around the dark of his rifle, ready to shoot at a moment’s notice. Of course, Aguni knows (hopes) he won’t actually resort to filling Takeru full of bullets, but he keeps a close eye on his trigger finger, anyways.

“Ah! There’s my co-parent,” Hatter says with a measure of glee, gesturing with a flourish of his hand towards the cute, hairy pile on his bed, “As you can see, our lovely Terminator is doing very well and—“

“Our? She’s not fucking ours, she’s fucking mine,” Niragi snaps, “and I’m gonna fucking kill you for stealing my cat.”

“Not a cat,” a calm voice says, and Aguni turns to see Last Boss lurking in the doorway, katana sheathed and arms crossed, “She’s a common genet, native to the savanna’s of Africa.”

“Ooh, does that mean the babies have dual citizenship? No, wait,” Hatter claps his hands together with glee, “triple citizenship? Africa, Japan, and the Borderlands?!”

“Africa’s not a country, it’s a continent, dumbass,” Niragi retorts, “and I think we have bigger problems than what’s going to be on their fucking passports.”

It’s probably not the best thing in the world for Aguni to let Takeru and Niragi descend into heated bickering—a back-and-forth of ‘you stole her’ versus ‘no, she chose me’—but Aguni is simply not interested in breaking up their squabbling. Instead he goes to stand by Last Boss, who’s watching the two long-haired men argue like it’s a mildly interesting tennis match.

“So,” Aguni says, “you, uh, seem to know a lot about those things.”

“I did my research when Niragi first brought her back,” Last Boss says calmly, “He’s good with her, but I wanted to make sure we were taking care of her correctly.”

“Did you know she was pregnant?”

“I had my suspicions. Niragi wouldn’t listen, though. Kept telling me she was just fat.”

“Yeah, I thought she was ‘just fat,’” Niragi interjects, his gun no longer pointed at Takeru but a murderous gleam still in his eye, “because this fucking asshole kept feeding her potato chips!”

“Because she loves them,” Takeru shouts back, throwing his arms up in the air, “So shoot me for being a nice guy and sharing my snacks with your weird cat!”

“Don’t,” both Last Boss and Aguni say in unison—which is very uncomfortable for the both of them, but at least it has the desired effect of keeping Niragi from blasting a few dozen holes through Takeru’s person.

With the two of them quickly getting back into their heated back-and-forth, Aguni turns his attention to the creatures on the bed. Somehow, despite all of the noise and excitement, the mother and her babies have curled up and fallen asleep, the rhythmic rise and fall of their bellies a stark contrast to the chaos unfolding around them. Aguni feels jealous, but also, feels bad about feeling jealous because this...Terminator thing has undoubtedly had a rough night, too.

“Luckily,” Last Boss says, “genets are pretty independent creatures. She’ll be fine to take care of the kits on her own, provided that she has access to food and water.”

“So we should just...leave her alone?”

Last Boss shrugs.

“More or less.”

Aguni sighs internally. He sighs externally, too, but the internal sigh is the one that really sums up his thoughts on the whole situation. Just getting one of those hot-headed men to leave those poor animals alone is challenging enough, but both of them? That’s bordering on ‘damn near impossible.’

But, for the sake of those weird fuzzy babies, he has to try.

Takeru jumps when he feels Aguni’s hand on his elbow. He also manages to shut up for a moment, which is a nice bonus. Last Boss has also sprung into action and seems to be talking to Niragi in hushed tones, a hesitant but friendly hand on his shoulder.

“C’mon,” Aguni says, gentle-firm as he guides Takeru into a standing position—much to the other man’s confusion.

“Mori, what—?”

“You’ve had a big night. I’ve had a big night. But do you know whose had the biggest night of us all?” Aguni gestures to the snoozing creatures in front of them, “Terminator. She’s exhausted, and the last thing she needs is the four of us keeping her up. You can stay with me tonight, and we’ll figure the rest out tomorrow.”

“But,” Takeru protests—an iota quieter, now that he’s realized that the pipe on the bed is now a sleeping pile, “we can’t just leave them alone, can we?”

“You’re right. Which is why,” Aguni says, “Last Boss is going to stay with her and keep an eye on things. If he’s okay with that, of course?”

Last Boss offers a solemn nod. Aguni makes a mental note to thank him for this later—maybe he’ll let him pick the music on their next supply run (provided it’s from Aguni’s list of pre-approved artists, of course...)

“You know what? Fucking fine,” Niragi spits, flicking his hair back with a quick jerk of his hand, “it’s too goddamn late to deal with you fucking losers, anyways. I’ll come back to collect my cat and her kittens in the morning.”

Aguni does not risk correcting Niragi on his incorrect terminology regarding his pets—frankly, he’s a little too busy being amazed at how suspiciously easy it was to get him to leave. With a sharp pivot, Niragi is exiting the room in what could be called a ‘brisk saunter,’ no doubt wanting to put as much distance between himself and whatever-the-hell just happened in this room as possible.

Aguni, for once, can relate to Niragi quite well.

With Last Boss keeping vigil over the new little family, Aguni is able to wrangle Takeru away from his room with minimal fuss. It’s probably because the man is very tired—despite multiple claims that he ‘isn’t sleepy yet’ and ‘can stay up for hours.’ This theory is proven when, within a grand total of seven seconds of Takeru flopping face-first onto the middle of Aguni’s bed, he’s managed to slip into what only can be described as a ‘light coma.’

Aguni manages to wrestle a stray pillow away from his sleeping friend’s grasp (he’s a notoriously cuddly sleeper, which has led to some...interesting situations over the course of their friendship) and settles his weary self onto the couch. It’s not quite long enough to accommodate his height, but it’s good enough for what will most likely end up being an extended nap before the sun comes up and he needs to solve whatever other issues have popped up at the Beach overnight.

...But, at least those problems won’t involve babies.

Probably.

💖💖💖💖💖💖💖💖💖💖💖💖💖💖💖💖

Also here is a common genet and DAMN SIS U CUTE AS HELL

#alice in borderland #danma takeru #alice in borderland netflix #aguni morizono #niragi suguru #last boss #writings and such

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tearlessrain · 3 years

Text

Giant Masterlist of Cathar Facts (that I completely made up but nonetheless rigidly adhere to)

I am an unstoppable force and disney should have killed me when they had the chance (that chance was splash mountain when I was seven and as you can see I survived).

Under a break because it is way too long and covers really quite a lot, much of which I will probably never even need. But researching and writing this kind of thing is what I consider a fun afternoon so here we are.

General basic stuff

Cathar are basically felids evolved to fill a similar evolutionary niche to humans in the absence of any viable apelike species on their native planet, in the same way hyenas evolved to fill a niche normally occupied by canids.

They are pursuit predators but not terribly efficient ones outside their home planet. In terms of both speed and strength they can outperform humans on average in the short term, but have noticeably less stamina especially when it comes to running or walking long distances. They greatly outmatch any quadrupedal felids for stamina, however. (Mandalorians are an invasive species)

They run hotter than humans, around 100-102F.

Though height varies quite a bit, cathar are taller on average than humans and build muscle easily, making them extremely formiddable opponents in hand-to-hand combat.

The average face/skull shape of cathar is largely based on assumptions that they evolved under weirdly similar conditions to humans evolving from early hominids, aka shortening of the face, larger cranium, smaller mouth, etc.

While they are obligate carnivores and do have elongated canines, their teeth are more even in size than wild felids, and while they do still have barbed tongues, the barbs are relatively small/soft and more similar to a housecat than anything of comparable size (aka they won’t literally take your skin off if they lick you). They also have somewhat thinner skin than wild cats, though they are still more damage resistant than humans.

They do not have retractable claws because that’s not how fingers work, but they do have narrow, naturally pointed claws rather than humanlike fingernails. Many cathar choose to either dull them or file them down for convenience, but losing/damaging them, as per that one ambient dialogue on Dromund Kaas that I can never find when I need it, is extremely traumatic for them.

They have tails because I want them to, used for both balance and communication. Cathar tails are approximately lion-like, thin with a coarse tuft at the end regardless of markings (ie. a cathar with stripes won’t have a tiger tail), with the tip the same shade or a few shades darker than the darkest part of their coats. occasionally those from colder regions will have longer fur over the whole tail, or look like they don’t have a tuft due to longer fur overall.

Variation and a lot of bullshitting about genetics

Wookiepedia describes Cathar as “a planet of savannas and rough uplands” but I refuse to believe that all these habitable worlds are all one consistent climate/temperature across the whole globe. The weirdly ubiquitous infrastructure/cultural info I can kind of forgive since 90% of them were wiped out by Mandalorians and the rest left, and I’m charitably assuming there were a lot less than 7 billion cathar to begin with, so a lot of smaller or more isolated cultures across the planet were lost entirely.

They have less sexual dimorphism than SWTOR implies, though females are a little smaller on average and tend to have shorter/finer manes that are closer to their base color. In terms of relative strength/mass the difference is minor and female cathar are still very capable of fucking you up (the conventional assumption in the Empire that females are weak/docile and males are too uncontrollable to enslave is not remotely true in either direction).

Variation in fur/metabolism/ear and nose shape depends on which region/s of Cathar they come from (or their ancestors come from), but they don’t recognize different “races” the way humans do, particularly in the wake of the Battle of Cathar.

On average, cathar originating closer to the equator have shorter, finer fur, larger and more tapered ears, a tendency toward slender, lanky builds, and coloration that leans more toward golds/reds and higher pigment density. whereas those closer to the poles are much stockier and can be extremely fluffy, sometimes with an undercoat, with paler colors and less vivid/extensive markings. None of the above is universally true and cathar didn’t necessarily always stay in the region where their ancestors come from (and thus sometimes you get people like Riska, who is all limbs but has fairly northern features and entirely too much fur)

Cathar mostly left their planet in groups, so in some parts of the galaxy you’ll run into whole colonies that originate mostly from one part of the planet and have distinct appearances/cultural idiosyncrasies from other colonies.

They mainly follow the same general rules that apply to most felids in terms of coloration/pattern.

Markings can be stripes, spots, or less commonly rosettes (definitely some version of Taqpep variants) and mostly lie along Blaschko’s Lines, though it’s more obvious on some individuals than others and it isn’t always perfectly precise. Even spotted individuals usually display some striping on the tail and around the eyes, though not always.

“Default” coloration is black-based, with dark markings on a greyish or brownish base.

Countershading falls pretty much along patterns you’d expect and usually lightens the chest/stomach, lower face, palms/soles, and inner thighs. Specific distribution and patterns vary quite a bit, and sometimes express in odd ways (hence whatever is going on with Khatte). Darkest points tend to be the tail tip, nose bridge, and mane.

Genetically solid cathar are incredibly uncommon; much more common are genes that affect the appearance/distribution of markings, sometimes rendering them almost invisible. Even ones who appear mostly solid (aka Khatte) usually still have some faint striping around the face and/or tail.

Khatte is basically some loose equivalent of ticked tabby, which mostly just looks like weird countershading but leaves some faint striping on his face and tail.

Jial-ro’s coloration is the result of a gene that suppresses all eumelanin production, and a sepia-like form of partial albinism.

Riska has something similar, along with something that reduces the size/spread of spots.

Food

They’re mainly carnivorous and have different nutritional requirements from humans (similar but not identical to those of a cat), which can be a problem in places like the military where standardized rations are the norm. In the Republic a cathar can usually put in a request for rations designed to accommodate carnivores (or supplements, failing that), though they might have some trouble on more isolated or undersupplied planets. The rare cathar in the Imperial military have to procure supplements out of pocket, though it’s technically possible to get reimbursed for it if they’re willing to wade through the bureaucracy.

Cathar are perfectly capable of eating raw meat with few to no ill effects, and have a subgenre of cuisine centered around it (and while they didn’t invent sushi, they have enthusiastically embraced the concept). They also have plenty of ways of cooking meat and readily adopt any new ones they come across.

Their “natural” diet apart from meat mainly consists of fruit, root vegetables, and eggs, though the closer to the poles you get the less likely you are to encounter fruit in a dish. Cathar never cultivated grain and it holds no meaningful nutritional value for them, so bread, rice, and similar products simply do not appear in traditional cuisine. This does not stop some of them from eating grain products in small amounts, as they can still enjoy the taste, but it isn’t any healthier than processed sugar is to humans and they have a high rate of gluten intolerance as a species.

All cathar have a heightened and refined ability to detect savory/umami type flavors, but around 30-40% of cathar, and the vast majority of those from colder regions, have no taste receptors for sweetness at all. This has resulted in the cathar equivalent of the Cilantro Debate centering around desserts, even though they’re all perfectly aware that it’s genetic, and some who can’t taste sweetness still enjoy some desserts for the other flavors present. Those who do have sweet taste receptors are about as sensitive to it as humans, but it tends not to have the same addictive quality for them and a lot of them don’t like processed sugars in anything but small doses. They would appreciate a lightly sweet creme brulee but most of them would find soda absolutely disgusting.

Citrus is right out.

They suffer no more ill effects than humans from drinking alcohol, and due to generally having a fair amount of mass they can usually drink a lot of it.

Social minutiae

They use a fair amount of feline body language, particularly with others of their own species. While facial expressions play a part and they do smile, scowl, and generally express broad emotions, they have a reduced range of facial mobility compared to more humanoid species and no eyebrows to speak of, which leads to a lot of them having what humans perceive as resting bitchface. It also results in humans underestimating the range and depth of their emotions, and can be a problem in the medical field with human medics/doctors who haven’t been trained to work with less humanoid aliens and won’t necessarily recognize severe pain or distress.

Their ears are less articulated than a cat’s but still have some degree of mobility that serves more of a social function than a practical one. They also express a lot of emotion through their tails, to the point that it can be a detriment in some situations if they haven’t practiced consciously keeping control of it.

Bumping foreheads is a common way to express platonic/familial affection, or can be the equivalent of a chaste kiss between partners. They also squint and slow blink, though it doesn’t always translate clearly to other species.

They have a wider range of vocalization than humans; while their voices are often humanlike and they’re just as capable of articulate speech, they can also growl, purr, and make sounds outside human hearing range. Those raised among humans or near-humans tend to do this less, if at all, while cathar raised in more insular communities of their own kind can come off as very taciturn due to heavier reliance on nonverbal communication.

Sense of smell is much stronger and more refined than a human’s and plays a more significant role in how they perceive and navigate the galaxy. They can occasionally be mistaken for Force-sensitive by humans due to their knack for picking up on emotional distress or the presence of particular species/people by scent. This is more true with people they’re familiar with; they won’t pick out distinct members of the other species by default but will eventually be fairly reliable in identifying the scent of a friend or anyone else they spend a lot of time around.

The exception to the above is other cathar, who they can easily tell apart on an individual basis. They have scent glands around the jaw/neck that come into play for identification, conveying broad emotional states, in some situations can aid medical diagnoses, among other things. They also play a part in building connection and familiarity between friends, family, or romantic partners.

The ~horny section~

Cathar don’t really kiss the way humans do by default, but they can, and usually do so unless they’ve somehow had no contact with any near-human species at all. Their equivalent is gentle biting around the neck and jaw, which is another situations where the scent glands are relevant, and when aroused that whole area becomes an erogenous zone for the vast majority of cathar.

Plenty of humans (particularly if they don’t encounter a lot of aliens day to day) will avoid kissing cathar anyway because they have sandpaper tongues and dry mouths and fangs, and it feels fucking weird if you aren’t prepared for that.

They tend to be very bitey in general unless specifically asked not to. It only becomes a problem if the cathar in question is inexperienced with humanoids and hasn’t figured out how much bite force is acceptable for a species with thinner, more sensitive skin.

Their dicks are fairly humanoid in size and shape, though somewhat more conical at the head, but they do have a sheath rather than a foreskin. after maturity they don’t actually retract into the sheath more than about two inches when flaccid, and tend to be slightly less sensitive than the average human (same keritinization factor that affects circumcised humans). It also makes them more vulnerable to damage, but since it’s customary to wear pants on most civilized planets, that never really becomes a problem in the course of a normal day. The base of the shaft that’s usually covered has noticeably higher sensitivity. There are probably individual exceptions to most of the above.

Conventional understanding is that cathar don’t have barbs, which is true the vast majority of the time, though about 60% of them have some amount of vestigial non-keratinous bumps over their head that have no noticeable affect on anything aside from occasional increased sensitivity in that area. Rarely an individual might develop a few actual barbs at the onset of puberty, but they have no practical function and pose a risk of discomfort and injury, and can easily be removed via a fast and mostly painless medical procedure, so the number of adults who have them is close to zero.

Females do have (mild, easy to suppress if desired, and mainly not at all disruptive) heat cycles. Other cathar can generally tell by scent, but not to a distracting degree, and it’s considered rude and inappropriate to point it out with anyone but a close friend or partner. It should go without saying that males don’t have heat cycles, but I’ve gotten enough weird DMs about this to know that I need to say it. Unless said male is trans, and not on any sort of HRT, that’s not how that works.

They kind of have breasts but unless actively nursing they’re barely noticeable if at all, especially under clothing. Cathar have much fewer hangups about going topless regardless of gender than certain human cultures do.

#cathar #swtor #long post

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seriouslysam8 · 3 years

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For the ask game, would you please answer questions numbered 2, 8, 14 (all of your titles have such cool names), 18 (I hope Abditory isn't one of them as that story rocks), 21, 24, 29, 30, 33, 34, 44, 51, 62, 76, 82, 85, 88, 90, and 98.

Sorry for asking so many, but I love your work! Entombed gave me so many feels! I found your stories because author Breanie said to read them in her author's notes. Best rec ever! Thank you for answering.

Wow, that is a lot of asks! Thank you so much for wanting to know so much about little ole me. I think I hit them all in this and my apologies if I missed one. Let me know if I missed one. @breaniebree is awesome and my writing BFF. She is amazing, and I love her.

2) What fandoms do you write for and do you have a particular favourite if you write for more than one?

So, I’ve written for The X-Files, Supernatural, and Harry Potter. I currently only write for Harry Potter. I would say Harry Potter has always been the most fun.

8) Where do you take your inspiration from?

Random shit. Brontide came to me because I was browsing the HPFanfiction subreddit looking for a story suggestion and someone asked for a story where Harry was addicted to Felix. Only one unfinished dimensional time travel story was listed. It idea sparked me to write my own version. Entombed came to me because I was rewatching Buffy the Vampire Slayer where Buffy was buried alive. I knew I wanted to bury Ginny alive. As I stated in the author’s notes of last Kalopsia chapter, I drew inspiration from the Djinn storyline in Supernatural. I write about things I know, too. I have young kids at home so I like writing the Potter children as young because I can mimic their mannerisms in my writing. I’ve even asked my kids to say certain words to emulate their speech pattern in my writing if I’m writing that age group.

14) How did you come up with the title for the XXX? You can ask about multiple stories.

I HATE coming up with titles. My newest trend has been to literally Google “unique words”. There are a ton of Pinterest accounts who make fancy word and definition pictures. I scroll through all these little unique words and pick out ones I think fit a story. Sometimes I Google a unique word for BLANK and see if I can get a cool version of that name. @breaniebree actually helped me with Entombed.

18) Do you have any abandoned WIP’s? What made you abandon them?

Sadly, I would put Abditory in this category. Never say never though. I think about it from time to time. Honestly, I abandoned it due to such a negative response I was receiving and the lack of positive response. I became discouraged. It wasn’t even negative response due to my writing, it was literally a bunch of “why would you waste your time writing a story about the biggest plot hole in the books? JKR butchered the whole SK storyline and it’s unbearable to read.” So, basically, my reviews and PMs were filled with JKR hate over that plot point in the books. They heavily outweighed the positive reviews I received. Honestly, I think that’s why a bulk of stories get abandoned - lack of positive reviews or enthusiasm for a story. If I didn’t get so many great reviews for my stories, I don’t know if I’d be able to finish them or continuing writing new ones. Fanfiction is free, (as it should be) but it’s a lot of time and hard work. A little appreciation goes a LONG way. So, my advice, review everything you love reading and encourage writers to keep writing. I always say in my authors notes that reviews make me want to write and inspire me. That’s the truth. The moment I stop getting reviews will probably be the time I take a writing break again.

21) Tell me about another writer(s) who you admire? What is it about them that you admire?

@breaniebree. I mean she’s dedicated years to a single story with so many plot lines and characters that I’m amazed she did it. She’s a fantastic writer, and I definitely consider her my writing BFF. I feel like I’ve learned a lot from her and enjoy talking about writing with her so much. I’m so glad we’ve become friends.

24) How do you feel about writing smutty scenes?

Horrified. Anytime I get a little steamy in my stories, it goes immediately to @breaniebree who usually adds way too much smut and then I cut it down to still be somewhat PG-13 in order to appeal to a wider audience.

29) Do you have a story that you feel doesn’t get as much love as you’d like?

I feel like Kalopsia isn’t getting as much love as my other stories. I’m way behind in my normal review count per chapter. I wonder if it’s just the confusing storyline or if it’s just not as fun to read? But I was definitely worried it wouldn’t get the love I thought it deserved when I started writing it and it’s lived up to that expectation.

30) In contrast to 29, is there a story which gets lots of love which you kinda eye roll at?

Cronus Rising. People still recommend it occasionally and I still get random reviews. I’m like, “why????” Its horribly written and a stupid plot line. I literally was getting back into writing after not writing for a good five years, so it’s abysmal. I’ve often wanted to rage delete it.

33) What’s the biggest compliment you’ve gotten?

When someone tells me I should write an original novel and they’d buy the hell out of it. I do have some original novel ideas floating around (one I’ve been writing since I was like 15), but crippling fear of rejection from publishers have stopped me from ever actually finish an original novel.

34) What’s the harshest criticism you’ve gotten?

I got some criticism in Brontide for having drama for drama’s sake with no real purpose or goal for said drama. I felt my drama served a purpose, drove the story along, and I add a lot of fluffy and cute family moments. I feel like in real life, when you to your loved one is going through sometime, it feels like nonstop drama and bad news and like a dark cloud just follows you. I wanted to emulate that in real life. So Harry’s POV was often drab because HE was the one going through something horrific and it was all doom and gloom for him.

44) What is the last line you wrote?

“You never think I listen to your ramblings, but it’s kind of hard to block out, mate.”

51) From one to five stars, how would you rate your writing? (No downplaying yourself!)

Um... I’d say a 3. I think I have some good and unique plots for stories but sometimes I struggle on how to execute those on paper effectively. I struggle with descriptions, action, and showing rather than telling. But I do think I’m good at dialogue and capturing a character’s personality. So, 3.

62) Tell us about a WIP you’re excited about.

A lot! I have a Teddy/Victoire stalker story in the works that I’m excited about. I have (this is going to sound weird) but an outsider rom-com planned where Ron/Hermione breakup right before Hinny’s wedding and Hinny struggles to get them back together before the big day. I have a Potter family vacation fluff/comedy story planned. I have a game night one-shot planned. I have a short story about Luna’s wedding. So many that I want to write and don’t know which one to write first!!

76) Is there anything you’ve wanted to write, but you’ve been too scared to try?

I’d say no. I’ve always tried to write my ideas down. Some I’ve never finished because inspiration peters off and some I plan on finishing once my newest big project is done.

82) Summarize a random fic of yours in 10 words or less.

Harry goes through some shit, and Ginny is his soulmate.

85) Ramble about any fic-related thing you want!

I don’t understand why people don’t ship Harry/Ginny more. I don’t understand the Harry/Daphne obsessions (like just why???) or the Harry/Hermione ship at all. I always see people asking for story recommendation and they specific say “no Harry/Ginny”. They are literally perfect for one another and they are soulmates.

88) If you could ask one other fanfic author three questions about their writing, writing process, or works, what would they be and who would you ask?

@breaniebree .

1.) How do you organize all your charts? Send me the ALL the charts. Because I don’t understand how you keep everything straight!

2.) How do you write so much? You’re like a little writing machine in a cute little package.

3.) Where do all the ideas come from? In a dream? Just thinking? Driving? Do you write everything out in your head like meeee? Can I have some of your writing mojo?

90) How do you process and deal with negative reviews?

I obsess over them. I analyze them. I may get bummed out and not write for a few days. If you don’t like what I write, then don’t read or review. It’s a hobby. I do this for free. I’m not asking you to critique me. Give me a nice review or ask me a question, but don’t be cruel or mean because you can hide behind a keyboard and be a bully to make yourself feel superior.

98) If you had to give up either snacks and drinks during writing sessions, or music, which would you find more difficult to say goodbye to and why?

Music. I grew up with three older brothers. My house was always rowdy and loud and obnoxious. I need it to be loud. I can’t stand the silence or focus when it’s silent. I need music to help me think and write. When I’m home alone, I always turn on the TV or music, because I can’t stand when it’s silent. I think I’d go insane.

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lemurious · 3 years

Text

Fic writing ask game

Thank you very much to @crownlessliestheking for tagging me!

how many works do you have on AO3?

37 currently, two of which are written anonymously :)

what’s your total AO3 word count?

102,823. I only started in June 2020, so this is somewhat reasonable for a year.

how many fandoms have you written for and what are they?

The overwhelming majority of my fics are for Tolkien fandom, mostly the Silmarillion, with some Hobbit and LOTR thrown in. The others are: Seanan McGuire’s Wayward Children, and of all things, Paradise Lost (rather John Milton RPF), Måneskin / rock music RPF (those are the two anonymous works) and some poetry loosely connected to Firefly, Ray Bradbury’s The Martian Chronicles and Neil Gaiman’s Neverwhere. I clearly need to branch out!

what are your top 5 fics by kudos?

1. Just As They Were - my most popular fic by far, and one of the darkest (and probably the best) I have ever written. A take on disability and why the Elves are always described as perfectly beautiful.

2. A Few Trusty Lads - my longest fic and absolutely the dearest to my heart. What did the Orcs do after the end of the Lord of the Rings?

3. Eldalindalë in D minor, for well-tempered Eldar - my best crack fic. On the relationship between Elves and musical instruments...and why Fingon lugged his harp to Thangorodrim, among other ideas.

4. Beyond Measure - this one is inexplicably popular, because I actually consider it one of my least interesting. Rather fluffy Bagginshield written for a Happy Hobbit Holiday prompt, though still with sympathetic Orcs.

5. Can You Hear Me Singing? - a short fic of the type that I write the most. A dark take on Maglor as Tom Bombadil...and a new interpretation of Goldberry.

do you respond to comments, why or why not?

Always! Comments are my life blood and give me incredible amount of joy.

what’s the fic you’ve written with the angstiest ending?

I am the Queen of Dark and Angsty Fics, so it is hard to choose. My personal pick would be a fic that I ended up making a chapter in a multi-chapter collection of only vaguely related ficlets, and it really should have been posted on its own instead - Now We Are Become Death, Eönwë after the War of Wrath.

do you write crossovers? if so what is the craziest one you’ve written?

My entire Only A Fairy Tale series of ficlets is crossovers between Middle earth and fairy tales / European history. My favorite, and the craziest one, is Better Than Serve in Heaven, a crossover with Paradise Lost, or rather, the RPF of John Milton writing it, where Sauron finds a job as Milton’s secretary.

have you ever received hate on a fic?

No - and I am very glad about that, because it would really hurt.

do you write smut? if so what kind?

No - I seem to be conditionally incapable of writing smut. I enjoy reading it perfectly fine, but I am very asexual and just can’t come up with words to describe sex that would not sound like a medical treatise.

have you ever had a fic stolen?

Fortunately, no.

have you ever had a fic translated?

No, though that would be wonderful.

have you ever co-written a fic before?

In a way, my Tolkien Reverse Summer Bang fic will be co-created with an artist who created the wonderful artwork based on which I wrote the fic.

what’s your all time favorite ship?

Angbang, forever and ever, through all the ages of Arda and beyond. Melkor/Mairon is the one ship that is canon through all my Silmarillion works.

what’s a WIP that you want to finish but don’t think you ever will?

Weirdly, I don’t have many WIPs beyond vague notes. I still hope to finish my Númenorean submarines fic (Annatar invades Valinor under water!) and I can’t seem to _start_ a dark!Galadriel fic despite my head bursting with headcanons.

what are your writing strengths?

Twisted takes on canon - “making all the hair stand on end” as one of my readers very kindly noted in one of my favorite comments. Short, dark, mildly horrifying, but often hopeful one-shots. Technology - I can and have waxed poetic about rockets in the middle of a Silmarillion fic! :)

what are your writing weaknesses?

Descriptions. I am beginning to suspect I have aphantasia, because I can’t really imagine what anyone looks like or what they are wearing, either in fic or in real life. So I tend to omit even the most basic (and very necessary) descriptions.

what are your thoughts on writing dialogue in other languages in a fic?

I am happy to read it but I haven’t done it myself - to be fair, because it has never occurred to me until reading this question.

what was the first fandom you wrote for?

Silmarillion, and that was only a year ago! I am a very new fic writer :).

what’s your favorite fic you’ve written?

My personal favorite is A Few Trusty Lads - it was just so much fun to write my poor hapless Orcs. However, the one I am the most _proud_ of is With My Eyes You Shall See - a different take on Húrin in Angband.

I want to see everyone’s answers, so please, consider yourself tagged if you haven’t been yet - @nocompromise-noregrets @stormwarnings @foxindarkness @chrissystriped @admirablemonster - only if you want to and haven’t done this game yet

#fic author game #my fics #that was super fun #arda forged #trusty lads

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deadlyglacier · 3 years

Text

20 Questions tag~

I was tagged by @mythicamagic thank you senpai~<3

How many works do you have on AO3?

40 right now, plus 1 that is still hidden because of the SOFA Exchange event. (I’m still a lil fish.)

What’s your total AO3 word count?

486,920! That’s so amazing to me!

How many fandoms have you written for and what are they?

InuYasha - A Feudal Fairytale (18)

FullMetal Alchemist (18)

Mass Effect Trilogy (3)

Let’s Play (Webtoon) (1)

Kingdom Hearts (1) But I hope to write for many more fandoms in the future! I have ideas for fics for Castlevania, Skyrim, Fallout 4, Last of Us Part II, and more!

What are your top 5 fics by kudos?

#1. Stardust FemShep/Garrus, Mass Effect Trilogy, Rated Explicit. A retelling of the Shepard/Vakarian love story, with lots (and LOTS) of sexiness, from Garrus' point of view. Starts from before the Omega-4 and will end sometime after the end of ME3. Trying to stay as true to the game as possible, while adding some things happening off camera and a new ending.

#2. Flamingo Sess/Kag, Inuyasha, Rated Explicit Kagome's method of beating the summer heat attracts a certain demon lord...

#3. Hawk Sess/Kag, Inuyasha, Rated Explicit Kagome and Sesshomaru discover they have a mutual attraction for each other after a battle and a slight comedic incident brings them together. At first their relationship seems entirely sexual, but eventually evolves into something real. What will this romance mean for Naraku? Or even the future? *TRIGGER WARNING FOR CHAPTER 6! MAJOR VIOLENCE AND TRAGEDY* Very, very loosely based on "A Mere Digression" by elle6778

#4. Daisy Sam/Charles, Let’s Play, Rated Mature Sam wakes up somewhere unfamiliar with a splitting headache with no memory of the night before. Takes place right after the S2 finale. First chapter was my prediction for what would happen next, and then three other “wishful thinking” chapters happened, lol.

#5. Chemistry Ed/Winry, FullMetal Alchemist, Rated Mature A look at how the relationship between Ed and Winry developed after Brotherhood ended. Cute, sweet, funny, and hot (eventually—y'all that know me know I gotta have some NSFW in there).

Do you respond to comments, why or why not?

I try to respond to everyone, especially when a fic of mine has just been posted, but sometimes I just forget. If I haven’t responded to your comment, please know it’s just because I’m a big dumb and forgot! I love getting comments, and I reread them all the time! I just feel like there’s a time limit to when I can respond to them--if I let too much go by, it’s awkward if I reply. Gah, but that’s just me getting in my own head, I guess. I’ll do better!

What’s the fic you’ve written with the angstiest ending?

Oof, definitely Psychology, a fic I wrote for RoyEdOTPoly this year. The prompt I got was dark, and I didn’t see any way around an angsty ending. Read at your own risk!

What’s the fic you’ve written with the happiest ending?

Well, aside from the last fic, I try to write happy endings for all my fics! But, if I have to name names, I’m torn between Zoology (another FullMetal Alchemist fic, RoyEd, for RoyEdOTPoly this year) and Stardust (my Mass Effect fic, which is long, but so worth it, in my opinion). Both are very fluffy in the end!

Do you write crossovers? If so what is the craziest one you’ve written?

Argh... I don’t really like crossovers, to be honest. I actively avoid them when looking for fics to read. But that doesn’t mean I haven’t thought of writing them myself. (I’m a total hypocrite, I know.) I had an idea for an Inuyasha x The Sims fic, years ago, that I never did anything with. The premise was basically Inuyasha and Kagome would get trapped in the game somehow (via the jewel or magic or something), and they’d be controlled by Souta, Kagome’s friends, Hojo--all sorts of different people who think the fact that Kagome and Inuyasha are in the game is just some kind of silly mod. I probably won’t write it, so if anyone is interested in that crazy idea, have at it! You have my blessing. <3 I also have a crazy crossover idea for what I call an “Ultimate OT3″ of mine that I’ve mentioned to my friends, but I haven’t actually written down yet: Sesshomaru/Alucard/Sebastian Michaelis. So be on the lookout for that!

Have you ever received hate on a fic?

I wouldn’t call it “hate” so much as “mansplaining,” but I have gotten a couple of comments that made my eyebrow twitch on Stardust--both on AO3 and FFN. Just dudes (and I’m fairly certain they were dudes, just from their tone) trying to explain why a certain plot twist wouldn’t work, or tell me how to save Sidonis in the actual game (which I already knew, that person just didn’t read what I wrote). I’ve also gotten a comment on one of my more controversial fics, Hippology, on FFN, where the person asked me if I thought my summary was K-Rated (which, admittedly, it does need to be for the site, and mine wasn’t--because of a single word). I changed it and messaged them saying it was fixed. Going to that commenter’s profile, however, proved to be fairly enlightening... They’re nuts. They have another profile, too. Read at your own risk. Yikes. There’s also a team of people on FFN who make it their life’s mission to report stories with rule violations. I’ve gotten a comment from one of them as well. These people are not mods, they just like to pretend they are--one of them even made their name look official! “CU Administration,” gtfo dude. I also recently got one of my fics removed from FFN. It wasn’t even one of my sexiest ones! They put me in timeout for 48 hours, and when I was finally able to publish something new on the site again, I posted Hippology (my centaur smut), and it’s still up as I type this. (Wonder how long it’ll take them to notice?) And since the fic that got taken down was a SessKag fic, I’m thinking it might have been a petty SessRinner who reported it to the “authorities” of FFN, because another friend of mine got hers taken down not long after mine, and it was also SessKag. Just my tinfoil theory, anyway!

Do you write smut? If so what kind?

Yes, yes, yes. It’s practically all I write. I do all sorts of smut, from romantic, sensual stuff, to specific kinks, to monsterfucking--all that good stuff. Can’t change me~<3

Have you ever had a fic stolen?

God, I hope not!

Have you ever had a fic translated?

I don’t think so. No one has asked me if they can translate one, anyway.

Have you ever co-written a fic before?

Not yet! I’m open to the idea, and I’ve had little discussions with my fic-writing buddies about it, but nothing’s come out of it just yet. Keep your eyes peeled!

What’s your all-time favorite ship?

Oh, now come on! I can’t pick just one! But I’ll give you a top 3 (in no particular order, because they change places a lot, depending on how obsessed I am with them at the moment). Inuyasha: Sess/Kag FullMetal Alchemist: Roy/Ed Mass Effect: Garrus/FemShep

What’s a WIP that you want to finish but don’t think you ever will?

I have a couple of stories that I deleted from my original FFN account that I’d like to re-write and re-post on AO3, but I don’t think I’ll ever get around to it. There were a couple of Inu/Kag fics I had in-progress, and then a Koug/Kag fic. I recently rewrote and reposted my SessKag fic from years ago, Hawk, on FFN, AO3, and Dokuga! So maybe all hope isn’t lost. I’m even writing a sequel for Hawk! All the stories I have in-progress right now I plan on finishing. At some point, lol.

What are your writing strengths?

Dialogue, without a doubt. It’s my favorite thing to write, aside from smut, of course--which is another strength of mine.

What are your writing weaknesses?

Descriptions, ugh. I try to do them well, but I always feel like they get stale. So I keep them somewhat vague, because in my mind, I think readers will fill in the gaps themselves whether you describe something immaculately or not--they’ll see what they want to see, and that is totally fine in my book! Or maybe I’m just making excuses, lol. I’ll only describe something in a lot of detail if I want the reader to focus on that--usually an outfit, accessory, or weapon--otherwise, I leave it up to their imagination (I don’t want manipulate it too much, I suppose).

What are your thoughts on writing dialogue in other languages in a fic?

Wildly unnecessary unless that author speaks the language as well, or if certain words already exist in the fandom’s translations (ex. “youkai,” “alkahestry,” etc).

What was the first fandom you wrote for?

Inuyasha, and the fic(s) I wrote in the beginning were terrible. I want to burn all traces of them off the face of the earth. I was in middle school. I was young and stupid.

What’s your favorite fic you’ve written?

I gotta go with Stardust. It’s the longest fic I’ve ever completed at more than 160k words. I was so immensely proud when I typed “The End,” and I was able to say to myself “I did it.”

I tag: @glassesmcfancyhair @willowsrain

#SessKag #RoyEd #SamCharles #Shakarian #Inuyasha #FullMetal Alchemist #Let's Play #Mass Effect #fanfiction #writers supporting writers #q and a #I don't know what else to put so here

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not-delicious-milk · 3 years

Text

unspoken

pairing | fushiguro megumi x itadori yuuji, kugisaki nobara x zenin maki

content | um i think this counts as slow burn maybe, idk instrospection? sort of fluffy and sort of angsty? just two emotionally constipated bois and one (1) really bad wingman. or maybe a great wingman. depends on how you look at it. i think this is funny.

word count | 3.2k

form | oneshot

originally posted | 30 December 2020

author's note | i really wanted to make a joke about sukuna having 2 dicks but unfortunately there was no opportunity to. also i did all that research about heian period courtship and what did it amount to? like 3 sentences

He met Fushiguro's eyes, and balked slightly at their intensity. They always seemed to bore right through him, as if his skin was glass and Fushiguro interested himself more in what lay underneath. Not that there's anything he cares about in there.

"You're not hurt, are you? I did push you kind of hard."

Yuuji shook his head quickly. "No, I'm fine." He tried to set his mouth in a neutral line, like Fushiguro so often did.

Fushiguro nodded curtly, and turned to leave, back to where Ijichi was waiting with the car. Yuuji's fingers twitched.

yuuji doesn't know how to talk to fushiguro. sukuna "helps."

Fushiguro sure looks nice today.

Yuuji sighed and looked away. He really needed to focus on the mission. There was a grade 2 curse somewhere on the premises of this abandoned building, and if he kept staring at Fushiguro, he'd probably get—

"Look out!" Yuuji was only briefly aware of the curse's presence before he was aware of concrete, a dull throbbing in his side as he realized Fushiguro just saved him — again — and was busy siccing his Divine Dog on the curse that appeared while he was distracted.

This is embarrassing, he grumbled to himself.

You've got that right.

Yuuji did his best to tune out Sukuna's voice as he got up and into battle position. Fushiguro seemed to have the situation under control, so he focused on cleaning up the lower-grade curses swarming around them.

Something flickered at the edge of his perception. This time, he wouldn't be caught off guard — Yuuji launched himself at the curse on the other end of the room, intercepting it before it had the chance to so much as look at Fushiguro.

"I didn't need your help for that one," scoffed Fushiguro as his Divine Dog slunk back into his shadow. "Honestly, I could have done this alone. Don't know why you insisted on coming."

Yuuji bit back a retort. "I need the experience, right?"

"You're not hurt, are you? I did push you kind of hard."

Yuuji shook his head quickly. "No, I'm fine." He tried to set his mouth in a neutral line, like Fushiguro so often did.

Fushiguro nodded curtly, and turned to leave, back to where Ijichi was waiting with the car. Yuuji's fingers twitched.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

Movie night was usually somewhat less stressful than fighting a curse. Usually.

The film was something Yuuji was pretty sure Gojo-sensei had found at the very back of the clearance shelf. The DVD store probably paid him to take it off their hands. It wasn't even so bad it was good, it was just bad.

Kugisaki had fallen asleep somewhere in the middle of the opening credits. At first, he'd been a little confused and concerned for her health — it was only 6 pm, after all — but sneaking a peek at her phone screen when it lit up intermittently afforded him all the clues he needed. Kugisaki had been texting Maki-senpai, probably for a while, and probably all night.

Her phone screen lit up again — they were a few hours into the movie, and surely Maki realized she wasn't going to respond, right? Yuuji strained his eyes and recognized the thumbnail of what could only be described as a cursed image. Is that a floating banana? What the—

Something stirred in his chest. Jealousy? Why? Because Maki and Kugisaki had only been texting for a couple of weeks, and they already shared inside jokes that made Kugisaki laugh like a hyena in the middle of the night? Because they never needed to ask, to confirm, before sharing something — a word, a bag of chips, a seat, a jacket? Because when Kugisaki looked at Maki, with that vulnerability in her eyes that she always disguised with harsh words and thinly veiled threats of violence, Maki looked back?

Yuuji couldn't stop himself from looking at the other person on the couch with him. Fushiguro looked like he was going to cry of boredom. Or punch someone. Or both.

Should I switch the movie? I don't think he likes it.

Well, Gojo-sensei picked it. He would probably be offended.

Yuuji looked around. His teacher was conspicuously absent. No way! He's the one who forced us all to watch this shit, and he just leaves before it's over?

"Hey, um…" The question was past his lips before he could stop himself. "Fushiguro, is there something you'd rather…" Yuuji already knew what his answer was going to be. There were plenty of things Fushiguro would rather be doing, let alone watching. Reading a book, for one. Alone.

He received only a vague shrug in return. "Do whatever you want."

Yuuji found himself staring blankly at the floor. An oppressive silence blanketed the room, even with the vague sound effects and poorly dubbed dialogue coming from the TV.

This is torture. Say something already.

I would if I could, okay? Unless you have any better ideas.

That managed to shut Sukuna up, at least for a moment. Good. All that was left was to sit through the last scenes of the movie and go back to his room and scream into his pillow.

Yuuji could feel his forehead flushing and his eyes starting to burn. Oh, no no no no no. Why is this so awkward? At least Fushiguro can't see anything since all the lights are off. Or maybe he can see in the dark, like a vampire? Come to think of it, he is pretty pale… He's probably not saying anything to be polite. I bet he can see everything. I bet he's reading my mind right now with that stupid look of his.

"I need to go to the bathroom," Yuuji said, a little louder and a little higher than he intended. Fushiguro only raised an eyebrow at him and went back to watching the screen.

As soon as he was out of the dorm common room, Yuuji sucked in a breath of air.

"Coward."

This time, the cold voice he was so used to hearing came from the back of his hand. Yuuji didn't have anything to say in response. If he did, it would only be in agreement. How pathetic of him.

"You're damn right that it's pathetic. It's a miracle you can even stand up straight, given your lack of a spine."

Yuuji was almost at the door to his bedroom.

"I'll help you, just this once."

He froze. Since when did Sukuna help with anything?

"I don't believe you," he muttered.

An eye opened on his hand just to roll itself at him. "I'm the one who has to listen to your self-deprecating monologues, and I'm getting sick of it. Just tell him how you feel, brat." Sukuna's disembodied lips curled into a smirk. "If you don't, I will."

"No way!" Yuuji whisper-shouted. He practically sprinted into his room and, in the absence of a lock, pushed a chair behind his door to grant the illusion of privacy. But Sukuna wasn't done yet, and the next time he closed his eyes, Yuuji found himself ankle-deep in what he really hoped wasn't blood, and looked up a pile of ox skulls at the last person he wanted to hear romantic advice from.

Sukuna absentmindedly picked at long, black nails. "Why don't you switch with me? I'll be sure not to embarrass myself, so don't worry about that."

"That's kind of creepy. Aren't you like, a thousand years old?" Yuuji wrinkled his nose. "Do you just want him all to yourself?"

Sukuna made a face. "Oh, that's disgusting." He made a retching sound, like a cat coughing up a hairball. "Imply that again and I'll kill you in your sleep."

Yuuji was, at the very least, thankful that the murderous curse sharing his body had standards.

"Now the image is burned into my brain. Look at what you've done, brat." Yuuji only recognized the sensation of being cut into pieces and immediately restored because of how many times his conversations with Sukuna had ended that way. Still, he stumbled a little at the sudden disorientation.

"Hmm." Sukuna tapped his nails on a skull. "Brat, what have you been educated in?"

"Huh? Aren't you the one who complains about having to sit through my algebra classes? You already know what I'm educated in. Um," Yuuji furrowed his brow. "I took piano lessons when I was 8? Not that I was any good at it."

Sukuna sighed. "I don't care about your algebra or your piano lessons. I mean your courtly skills."

"Uh."

Yuuji heard the creaking of bone, and he was met with two pairs of blood-red eyes suddenly before him.

"Calligraphy? Poetry?"

"No…?"

Sukuna leaned in closer. "So, nothing then? You know nothing?"

Yuuji pushed him away. "Um, you've seen my handwriting."

"Kids these days." Sukuna clicked his tongue. "How standards have fallen."

"You know, a lot of things have changed between now and when you were alive. For one, there's this new thing called personal space."

The curse ignored him. Yuuji blinked and saw the ceiling of his dorm room, back at home in his body.

Do you at least have a brush, then?

No, weirdo. I have a pen, if that's good enough for you.

Tch.

Seriously, how are you this far behind? I thought you were starting to get this modern era stuff.

I am trying to salvage the situation you've put me in, brat. How will you write a letter to him without putting care into your calligraphy?

Nobody said anything about a letter!

This is how it was done in my time. You certainly don't have any better options.

"Fine, I'll Google it then," Yuuji mumbled. He opened his laptop, his fingers hovering over the keys. Slowly, he typed out "how to tell someone you like them."

The advice was all very vague. It was awkward enough to admit to himself that he liked Fushiguro in a way that went past friendship. It was worse that Sukuna's eye was wide open on his cheek and reading everything he did, reminding Yuuji somewhat of a teacher hovering behind him in the computer lab and reading over his shoulder.

"It says you should give him a gift. I have an idea." Yuuji didn't want to hear Sukuna's idea. "You should give him the carcass of a beast you slew yourself." Yuuji didn't want to hear any more of Sukuna's ideas.

"Sukuna, have you ever actually done this before? Because I don't think that would work, even if it was a thousand years ago."

"Why would I need to do such a thing?"

That was a little surprising. "Well, you sounded so confident, I thought you had experience or something."

"Love is a fruitless endeavor. The only thing that matters in this world is the spilling of blood upon the earth, and everything that comes between. But you're so annoying that I decided to stoop down to your level so I could help you. You should be grateful."

"Stoop down to my level? What, is this wounding your pride?"

"My pride isn't something so easily scarred. Hearing your constant chattering, all revolving around that Fushiguro boy, is much more painful than condescending to help you."

"What's with the flowery language all of a sudden?"

"You really are uncultured."

"Well—"

The sound of someone knocking at his door startled Yuuji out of his carefully constructed comeback, laced with a few choice words he'd learned from Kugisaki the last time she stubbed her toe.

"Itadori? The movie's over." Oh fuck. "You left your phone on the couch." The doorknob rattled.

"Uh, just a second!" Yuuji slammed his laptop shut and dragged the chair out of the way before opening the door.

Fushiguro blinked. "Itadori, were you watching po—"

"Nope! No, I wasn't," Yuuji said, fully aware that every word he spoke only cemented that conclusion in Fushiguro's mind. "I'm just going to take my phone now. See you tomorrow!"

Yuuji grabbed his phone and made a move to close the door, but Fushiguro caught his wrist. His grip was firm and cool to the touch.

"You've been acting strange lately. Did something happen?"

"I'm fine," Yuuji said automatically. His lips had probably memorized the shape of those words by now.

"No, you aren't." Fushiguro's grip tightened a little, as if worried that Yuuji would try to snake out of it. I could try. I'm stronger than him.

"Itadori, look at me."

Shakily, Yuuji turned. Blue eyes met hazel. He felt naked somehow under the spotlight of Fushiguro's penetrating gaze. Oh god, that sounds so wrong. I don't want to think about that, not now.

"Is it something I said? Or did something else happen to you? I want to know."

(It had nothing to do with anything Fushiguro said, and everything to do with what he didn't.)

Itadori. I need you.

"I said I'm fine."

"And I said you're not." Fushiguro sighed a little and closed his eyes. The flutter of his eyelashes was distracting. "I'm worried about you."

Fushiguro? Worried about him?

"Why?" Yuuji knew it was a stupid question, but he was feeling pretty stupid at the moment. "Why would you do that?"

"Why—" Fushiguro's grip on Yuuji's wrist loosened in surprise. Yuuji twisted himself away, ready to cache himself in his room, but Fushiguro caught the sleeve of his hoodie instead. Worse, he stepped inside and uncomfortably close to Yuuji.

He could already feel his face turning red, and this time he couldn't rely on the cover of darkness.

"You're seriously asking me why I worry about you?" Fushiguro's voice didn't sound quite as even as it usually did. Yuuji didn't let himself hope it was concern. "You died in front of me, Yuuji. I… I had nightmares about it for months. Of course I'm worried."

He didn't know if it was Fushiguro's sudden use of his first name, or the quiver that accompanied it, but Yuuji's blood froze. He couldn't move even if he wanted to.

Fushiguro positioned himself in front of Yuuji, and placed a steadying hand on his shoulder. His sapphire-blue eyes, normally so cold and distant, glittered with repressed tears. Yuuji stared at his lips instead. They looked so soft. Fushiguro had been biting them again; they were slightly flushed and raw in some places.

"Please." Fushiguro was barely whispering now, his words only meant for the two of them. "I don't…"

I don't want to lose you again.

Yuuji opened his mouth to speak, but didn't know where to start. How could he claim insecurity now that Fushiguro had been so vulnerable with him? His anxieties suddenly seemed very small and pitiful in the face of the burden he'd saddled on his friends. It was his fault that Fushiguro was close to tears now, when he could face curses on his own without a flicker of fear. Dark, thick shame sat heavily in his throat, and all he could do was gasp for air.

You should take off your shirt.

Indignation replaced guilt in one swift motion. I am not taking off my shirt.

"Sorry, Fushiguro." The apology was too quick, too shallow. "I'm sorry. For… everything." The back of his throat stung. "I'm sorry for bothering you. Please, just…" Just go. Just leave me alone.

Just leave me to die.

"You don't have to worry about me."

It's only going to hurt you in the end.

"I'll be f—"

Fushiguro grabbed him by the back of the head, subtracting from the distance between their faces. "How many times are you going to say you're fine? Is it so hard to believe that I care about you?"

Don't say it.

"Is it so hard to consider that I—" Fushiguro's voice broke. A gentle flush crept across his neck as he seemed to realize how close their faces were.

Yuuji's vision blurred around the edges. Time crawled to a standstill, and there was nothing but the slope of Fushiguro's lips, trembling with words unsaid. Yuuji could hear his heart beating in his ears. He wondered if Fushiguro could hear it too, and if he felt some small comfort in knowing that the heart he had seen torn from its body and discarded like offal had been restored, and that it could beat and bleed and break again.

"Would you just kiss him already?"

Yuuji would have liked to think Sukuna had kept that comment for his ears only, but the way Fushiguro reeled back and turned beet red confirmed otherwise.

"Your purple prose is getting on my nerves. I think I preferred it when you couldn't string sentences together." The lips on his cheek curled. "Honestly, if you had just taken your shirt off like I said, this would have been over already. I should have done it for you."

"What do you have against shirts? Haven't you ruined enough of my hoodies?"

Fushiguro cleared his throat. "Um."

Yuuji's face burned. "Oh. Uh. Sorry about that."

"What is it with you and apologies? You don't have to be sorry for everything." But Fushiguro was laughing. His mask had cracked, or perhaps he removed it himself.

Yuuji couldn't help but smile. "I'll stop being sorry when you stop acting like you don't need anyone."

Fushiguro's face darkened slightly, as if wrapped in a shadow. "Is that what it was? I—"

Yuuji punched him lightly in the arm before he could apologize. "You're so emotionally constipated."

The tiniest of grins played on Fushiguro's lips. "So…" He leaned in closer. "What was that about kissing me?"

And this time Yuuji leaned into it, letting Fushiguro take everything he had. His eyelashes, still wet from almost crying, brushed against Yuuji's face as they breathed each other in. Yuuji found himself clinging to him like a lifeline, as if any moment he might slip away.

I'm not going to leave you behind.

He was laughing and crying at the same time. "I never thought you liked me back," Yuuji gasped when he broke away for air.

Fushiguro traced his thumb under Yuuji's eye. "You really are dense, you know that?" "So I've been told."

Is this what I was looking for?

Yuuji melted into him, kissing him like a drowning man gasps for air. How could he have deluded himself into thinking he was alone? How, when Fushiguro's body fit him like a puzzle piece, and they were embracing each other like they had never been separate?

You're welcome. Brat.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

"You know, I thought you'd at least notice all the times I was staring at you," Fushiguro mumbled sleepily. Their rhythm had slowed and now Yuuji was small and limp in his arms, playing with a strand of his hair.

"Nope. Not even once." A sea of drowsiness threatened to engulf Yuuji, but he stubbornly resisted, if only to stay with Fushiguro for a moment more. He suppressed a yawn.

"Gojo caught me watching you train once. He tortured me about it for a week." Fushiguro chuckled softly. "Um, he takes a lot of pictures of you. If you ever find a really blurry photo of you sparring in my room, that's why."

"Mm-hmm." Who knew Fushiguro was so warm?

"Hey."

Yuuji's gaze flickered up to Fushiguro's eyes. Oh, he thought. They're so open. I can see right through him.

"I'm here. Okay?"

I'm not going anywhere.

"Okay."

Neither am I.

And there was nothing but Fushiguro's breathing, and the heaviness of sleep, and the weight of words unspoken between them.

#i spent too long on this #pov: you use too many italics #can you tell this is the first time i've written a kissing scene #normally the stuff i describe in too much detail is cosmic horror and horrible gore #don't ask #i was a troubled 7th grader #sukuna definitely noticed fushiguro staring at yuuji and also his gay panic whenever he was caught #he just didn't feel the need to say anything #tag yourself i'm is that a floating banana #jjk #jujutsu kaisen #itafushi #fushiita #itadori x fushiguro #nobamaki #makibara #what even is the ship name for that #nobara x maki

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dancingsalome · 3 years

Text

1) How many works do you have on AO3?

120.

2) What’s your total AO3 word count?

328404. Which makes my fics 2736,7 words long, on average.

3) How many fandoms have you written for and what are they?

26.

Agent Carter, All About Eve, Angel, The Borgias, Charlie and the Chocolate Factory, Chronicles of Narnia, Doctor Who, both classic and new series, Dracula/The Historian, Emily of New Moon, Jonathan Strange & Mr Norrell , Harry Potter, Ivanhoe, Labyrinth, The Man in the High Castle, The Marvelous Mrs. Maisel, The Mummy Series, Once Upon a Time in Wonderland, Penny Dreadful, Peter Pan, Piranesi, Pirates of the Caribbean, The Queen's Gambit, Sleepy Hollow (1999), Timeless, Versailles (TV 2015) and Victoria

4) What are your top 5 fics by kudos?

Ghosts (The Mummy Series. Evy/Rick, Evy/Ardeth, Evy/Imhotep)

The Number of Vices (The Queen’s Gambit, Beth/Borgov)

The Might of His Strength (The Mummy Series. Evy/Rick, Evy/Ardeth/Imhotep, Evy/Imhotep)

The Black King (The Queen’s Gambit, Beth/Borgov)

A Moment (The Marvelous Mrs. Maisel. Midge Maisel/Lenny Bruce)

5) Do you respond to comments, why or why not?

I do. However, it can take me forever to get around answering them. And if the comment is just an emoji, I will probably not answer.

6) What’s the fic you’ve written with the angstiest ending?

Considering I have written a lot of angst, this was really hard. But if I have to choose one, I’d say a Sleepy Hollow-fic called Hell.

7) What’s the fic you’ve written with the happiest ending?

Crow’s Feet On the Prettiest Eyes (Doctor Who, Sarah Jane Smith/The Doctor) or The Black King (The Queen’s Gambit, Beth/Borgov)m which both are about lovers who are reunited after many years apart.

8) Do you write crossovers? If so what is the craziest one you’ve written?

Not really I’ve borrowed a character from Pan Am for a The Queen’s Gambit fic, but that wasn’t much of a crossover, really. And I have one Piranesi/Chronicles of Narnia crossover, but that one isn’t particularly crazy either, given how many Narnia-references Piranesy contains.

9) Have you ever received hate on a fic?

Yes. A couple of years ago a person read some of my explicit, and very well-tagged fics only to give me several comments on how disgusting the found explicit fics in general, and the tags i used in particular. Personally I would say that the easiest way to not be disgusted by that would be to NOT READ THOSE FICS!

10) Do you write smut? If so what kind?

I do. Quite a lot, actually. Mostly F/M, but sometimes also threesomes. As for kind of sex it ranges from fluffy vanilla to BDSM.

11) Have you ever had a fic stolen?

Not that I know of.

12) Have you ever had a fic translated?

Yes.

13) Have you ever co-written a fic before?

No, though one I’m currently writing is certainly co-conceived.

14) What’s your all time favorite ship?

I honestly can’t say; I have so many. My current favourite shup is Beth Harmon/Vasily Borgov from The Queen’s Gambit. Before that I burned for Fabien Marchal/Sophie de Clermont from the TV show Versailles. No, wait, my favourite ship must be the OT3 Rick/Evy/Ardeth from The Mummy series, as that ship precedes the other, and is still around.

15) What’s a WIP that you want to finish but don’t think you ever will?

I currently have 5 WIPs posted on AO3 3 of them I’m writing actively on and plan to finish in the foreseeable future. Then I have two WIPs that’s over 10 years old. An extremely dark Sleepy Hollow-fic about Lady Van Tassel, and one humorous Harry Potter-fic about Dudley Dursley. I like them both, and have the plot properly mapped out, but I have yet to find it in me to finish them. I would still like to do that, though! However, I have one Peter Pan fic that I actually removed from AO3 because not only is it a 15 year old WIP, I have also completely forgotten how I wanted it to end. That one I doubt I will ever touch again.

16) What are your writing strengths?

Emotions. I’m good with emotions, and nowadays I think my dialogue flows quite well too. I’ve been told I write good sex scenes too.

17) What are your writing weaknesses?

Plots! Most of my fics are one-shots with few characters, mainly dealing with emotions. I used to be very bad at being descriptive, but I’m actively working on improving that. I can be brief to a fault, too.

18) What are your thoughts on writing dialogue in other languages in a fic?

So far it’s something I have glossed over in the few cases it has been somewhat relevant for the fic. If I did, however, I would probably write the foreign language in italicized English. Unless it was a language no one else in the fic underwood- then I would write it in the original language.

19) What was the first fandom you wrote for?

Peter Pan, back in 2004, after seeing a promo pic of Jason Isaacs as Captain Hook.

20) What’s your favorite fic you’ve written?

Another one of those impossible questions. How can I choose. I’m sorry, It has to be my favourite fics, in plural.

A Place in the Shadows (Penny Dreadful, Vanessa Ives & Sembene), because it turned out exactly as I envisioned it. And I really like the themes of friendship, and cake.

Professor Keller (Doctor Who, Delgado!Master) because it’s my most ambitious fic to date- I even rewrote it completely. I really think I managed the escalating horror of two completely normal people getting their lives destroyed by the Master.

Homeward (The Borgias, Cesare/Micheletto, Lucrezia & Micheletto). I’m not sure why, but I just really, really like this one, and it’s one of my fics that I reread regularly.

A Conversation in the Yellow Drawing-Room, And Other Letters To Mrs Strange (Jonathan Strange & Mr Norell, Lady Pole/John Childermass). In most of my fics the female protagonist saves herself, and this is probably the prime example. I really enjoyed writing Lady Pole making her life the way she wants it for a change, and, ultimately, saving herself, with a little help from her friends. I also really enjoyed making use of a few fairy tales tropes.

#ao3 #ao3 meme #fanfic meme #fanfic #fanfiction #writing

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mochikeiji · 4 years

Text

You Found Me

↠ Pairing: Akaashi Keiji x Reader

↠ Warning: none, fluffy for my boy akaamshi uwu Writer!Reader, Aged Up characters.

↬ Word Count: 2.4k

Summary: He was just a fictional character, how can you be foolish enough to believe he were to be reincarnated and to be born in the same world as you live in? Will it even be possible for him to notice you in billions of people and far places?

⇢ Day 1: Reincarnation

You loved him.

More than words can describe.

"Love." can never be enough to portray the amount of adoration you had for this man. Nothing.

He doesn't know you.

He was just a character; written by people who held the most artistic perspectives into capturing a character's personality. They made him seem so real, so easy to love and to be succumbed into his entire being.

But he wasn't real.

Nor is he aware of the millions of eyes and fans from reality admiring him for simply being ethereal in his world of ink and colorful dialogues made by his author.

Nor will he be aware of the amount of love you were pouring out to his inexistence. To reciprocate the feelings, let alone acknowledge you from a crowd filled with much more dedicated people to him.

Yet every night you prayed; longed that one day there will be someone to be reborn as he is. A man to be born with that natural charismatic aura. The blunt, yet soft hearted soul of a person, the dedication he has shown in the show with his desr senior. Everything.

He was the embodiment of everything you wanted, needed.

Perfection at the most flawed world.

"Nobody compares to you, Keiji."

Day dreaming for what seemed like an everyday routine for you, you clicked on the next tab of your laptop away from the world of fictional sight— where mostly your safe haven is. Where you get to imagine a world with him and pondered back into your field of writing.

How long has it been since you've been off your draft? Was it 2 hours ago? Had you been submerged again with the same story you've memorized over the times you've read it? Well, no one can't help it. It was your coping mechanism, your escape from the cruel reality. Though the stories are imprinted in your mind and everyday dreams, you admired the fact how they were well written by different varieties of writers that came to admire his character and brought him to life. How they managed to make him and every character from the show come to life. It was as if all the scenarios you've wanted was all there, all granted. Except for one.

Where he was truly existing in the same world as you do.

"Well done, sweetie, you've lost another promised motivation to write." groaning with your head leaned back on your pillow, you closed your eyes for a short break. By instinct, the stories scenarios began playing inside your head.

All the fluffy ones that made your body feel somewhat lighter from the ghost, feathered kisses as you recalled the lines of your favorite ones. The ones where they would further describe how he would hold you in his arms like a fragile being, link his hands with yours, giving you his warm kisses as he presses you close to his chest.

The angst ones where he would be there to comfort you immediately, wiping away your tears as he helps you out of your struggles and battles in life. Letting him be your resting place and safety.

And lastly the explicit ones where you could only go so far to imagine the lewd things as the words from the screen pages come up to the surface and bound your body at his presence.

What a paradise, you would call.

Yet what a tragic for someone who longs for a person like that to be real.

Eyes opening after the self pitied thoughts, your sudden decision to go out in the cold, rainy afternoon came by. For a shy person you are, you never really liked the idea of squeezing in a crowd or to be seen, but as you eventually grew up, you begin to like places that felt like a second home to you. Be it a cafe or a bookshop, or just an area with a few people and closed walls where you were free to be in dazed once more.

Shutting you laptop closed and placing it back on your desk, you picked out some of your most comfortable clothing; mostly jogging pants and an adorable sweater. Having to be in highschool and growing out the habit of wearing long sleeved shirts even though it was hot was amusing to many. Though, today was exemptional.

You contemplated whether or not you would tie yor hair into a bun or leave it down, like that one character you read in your favorite show, he didn't like his field of vision to be wide. It brought a small amount of relief someone felt the same as you did, so you decided to just put it in a lower bun with your fringes hidig the sides of your face.

Grabbing you small bag and an umbrella, you walked out from your dorm. Your roommate had been stranded in her university from the sudden pouring, ordering her a coffee after coming back from the shop may be a good welcoming gift for her. She was the only person you managed to get close to at the time of your adulthood. It's only fair you have gotten attached and wanted to show her how much you love and appreciate her.

Thank goodness it was only pouring. If the rain happened to be coming with thunder and lightning, you would've gotten out and hid underneath your blankets. It isn't all the time you get to enjoy the droplets from the sky without the God of Thunder stomping down in anger.

The streets were absolutely stunning during the dark or gloomy weather, the lights from each building and shop were lighted up, combining with the rain and its pattering, it felt so serene to you than it did to others. The odd musk from the rain filling nostrils as your eyes cast upon the cemented streets that had colorful lights illuminating them, made you feel at ease and somehow your mind was starting to stir up multiple writing prompts and ideas that made you excited and happy.

The whole world disappearing before you as you were at the best day you claimed. The musk of the rain mixing up with the cinnamon and coffee like scent as you opened the door from the nearby cafe from your dorm welcomes you. Smiling shyly, you moved to the side a bit and removed your glasses to cleanse it as it got fogged up from the cool air before placing it back on your face and walked towards the cashier.

It was a miracle that the infamous coffee and sweets cafe of yours wasn't crowded today, managing to order quickly and waited on the other side of the counter. Your usual frappucino and a chocolate cake for your cravings.

"Ah, you're here again?"

The lovely male behind the counter chirped at the newly arrived customer. He was the nicest crew you knew in this cafe, you loved how he makes you feel at ease.

"Yeah, I got caught up in my papers and it went pouring all of a sudden."

"Always a workaholic aren't we, Kei?"

Kei? Cute name.

Kinda reminds you of that tall, player in the show you watched, Tsukishima.

"Wait there for a second, we're preparing two orders."

In instinct of the male's voice, you scooted away from the receiving counter a little for the next person to be standing next to you. You really didn't like sitting to waot for your order, who knows? You might trip and cause an embarrassing accident.

His scent however, was filling in your nostrils. Combining with the soft, delicious treats, he smelled like someone you would love to hug for days and feel safe. He smelled like home.

Was that weird? Yes.

Suddenly, this scene had made a perfect prompt pop in your head, you had to fish out your phone from your bag to write it down on your notes. It had been too long since you've written a good story. You missed your passion in writing, a good opportunity will never be passed as this.

"Do you write as well?"

Squeaking a bit with your palms already forming a sweat from nervousness and the cold air, you turned your head to your left side of the male costumer, who had an amused smile at his face from your reaction.

You wete never one to come and talk to a random stranger as a kid and teenager. But even as an adult, you felt inferior of them. But taking a few seconds to regain your breathing and judging by your surroundings, nothing seemed to be harmful to reply, right?

"A-ah, yeah, but it's not that good or a job, y'know?....Just a hobby."

Stuttering out and muttering the last part, inside your head you were screaming, had you lost your people skills too? Soft chuckling can be heard from him, he gives you a small smile, not noticing how he scooted closer to you since he couldn't quite hear your voice from afar.

"I think it's incredible how a person can put their imaginations into words and share it so freely to everyone across the world."

Heart beating fast.

He hits it home. He was definitely speaking the language of a writer, and you find yourself standing straighter and smiling a bit wider. There wasn't much people that shared your interest, your relatives and friends were always into musical and artistic drawings, or the domestic kind of jobs and talents. You were the only one who loved writing so much and pursued secretly. Meeting someone who shared the same thought and words as you cannot be forgotten.

You had to know him.

"Thank you..I take it you write as well?"

Score, you manage out a normal reply without being awkward.

"An editor to be exact, it's not as fun as it sounds. I was aiming for literature but it seems life wanted me to have a little detour."

Nothing was boring. In fact, it was making you more happy to hear how much you had in common with him. Not able to hold back the next words, you blurted out,

"I think it's amazing you're still part of the writing community. Be it any position I know you must have such potential in your work."

You catch his eyes just staring at yours behind his glasses. Biting your lip in habit gor when you feel nervous, you clamps your hands together and immediately stammered an apology for invading his personal life.

He laughs, but not too loudly. The longer you reviewed his features and everything, the more he was starting to look like someone you've been day dreaming.

No, fate cannot be this powerful.

But he seemed so much like him that you wanted so badly to point your fingers to all the matched characteristics he was performing. From his outfit, hair, glasses, and his feature but more realistic, different. His eyes weren't the same gun metal ones as you remember from that character, but he radiates so much of his aura.

"Here are your orders, Kei, ma'am."

Ah damn, you didn't catch his name.

The both of you thanked the kind male before walking away from the counter. Scanning your surroundings quickly for a good spot to sit, you saw the free spot by the window where the rain was pattering and went there. It was like having a television show for free. Seeting your tray down the small coffee table, you stabbed in the straw to your beverage and mixed it up a bit before taking a sip, feeling empty and sad from not getting to know who that person was or to befriend him.

He was nice, gentle, something you would in a man before befriending them. You wanted to know more about his works and his ways of writing, maybe show you his ideas on literature writing. But mostly, you were intrigued from his entire existence.

You wanted to know more about him that it made your stomach twist in guilt and regret from the opportunity slipping away.

"May I sit here?"

And it slipped right back to you.

Biting the straw in your mouth as he smiled at you holding his tray of waffle and steaming coffee, awaiting for your permission before you nod out of daze and watched as he takes a seat in front of you.

Cliche was the first word that came up in your mind. You never would've thought that the scenario of a cute boy in glasses and a sweater hugging his body would want to be seated in a cafe with you.

And you loved cliche scenarios, even dreamed of having your own story-like life.

"The cafe is pretty empty, and you looked like you could use some company."

"I didn't take it that you enjoyed company so I sat far away.."

"You're right, I'm not. I wonder why now."

Was this his way of flirting? If it was, you're buying it. You loved how his voice was smooth and calm. The stoic look on his face earlier replaced by a pleased one with a small smile while taking a sip of his coffee.

"Maybe because I look lonely and you felt bad?"

"I simply wanted to enjoy my treat while chatting with someone who knows my interest rather than myself. Besides,"

He places down his cup on the tray before leaning his head a bit and smiling,

"It's not bad to get out of my shell now, right?"

His face stayed up close as yours was heating with your body getting ligther. He looked like him, he acts like him when he was all grown up. You didn't want to believe in the source of reincarnation and their mysterious, yet hopeful glimmer, but you knew. You knew and you would bet everything that this person was the perfect resemblance to the Akaashi Keiji.

"You never told me your name."

It came out like a whisper from your lips, the rain outside pouring harder as night fall came. He remains the same, smiling like a cheeky person, now fully interested in a person like you, a random stranger whom he just caught writing a romance prompt about a man she met in a cafe.

The detour his life had turned around for him to take, and yours to be fulfilled.

All the possibilities or unexplainable books, movies, theories. The characters, the events, all now making you dizzy at the idea of it all being true at a specific time and place. All of it was too good to be true. Too much that it made your eyes a bit teary to have finally encounter the person who has raised you high and kept you moving. The person who could never compare to the other people, be it fiction or reality.

"My name is, Keiji."

#haikyuu!!#haikyuu imagine #haikyuu scenarios #haikyuu imagines #haikyuu scenario #haikyuu oneshot #haikyuu oneshots #haikyuu fluff #akaashi keiji #haikyuu akaashi keiji #akaashi x y/n #akaashi x reader #akaashi x you #akaashiweek #akaashiweek2020 #akaashi fluff #akaashi scenarios #akaashi imagines #akaashi headcanons

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wordgirlappreciation · 4 years

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Wordgirl Fanfic Recommendations Masterlist

Thanks for 250 followers, guys! I appreciate you all very much!

At long last, here it is! A full compilation of my personal favorite Wordgirl fics! All fics are complete and in English. Please don’t forget to reblog and review to support fanfiction writers!

Additionally, this blog will post and promote all fanfiction links submitted to it.

Wordgirl & Doctor Two Brains

Title: The Doctor Is In | Author: otempora16 | Words: 23k | Rated K+

Becky Botsford may be an alien, but she's never had any trouble living on Earth - until she's struck with a bizarre disease that no human doctor can cure. Only one person has studied Lexiconians enough to have any hope of saving her. Unfortunately, he's trapped deep within his own mind, under the control of a malevolent mouse...

This is the best Wordgirl fic I’ve ever read. It hits everything I wanted to see from this show--the bond between Wordgirl and Dr. Two Brains, Dr. Two Brains struggling against his own darkest impulses--coupled with fantastic writing and pacing. Everyone is in character while balancing a more sophisticated and darker tone. I’ve read this one at least five times.

Title: Awake in the Night | Author: Laura Latts | Words: 10k | Rated: K+

Two-Brains is fighting with himself again. The results? He's losing. But how could Steven be coming back from the supposed dead? And how can Wordgirl help him win before the sun rises?

Absolutely heartbreaking fanfic centered around Wordgirl’s relationship with Steven as Dr. Two Brains attempts to stifle him. Steven can only take control at night, and attempts to build a machine to separate himself from Squeaky, only for Two Brains to wake up and stop him every time. It’s brilliantly written, very in-character, and it just might make you feel.

Title: Much Abides | Author: otempora16 | Words: 3k | Rated K

Before she heads off to her first year of college, Wordgirl has a few loose ends to tie up. Oneshot. Sort-of sequel to "New and Subtle Shades."

Wordgirl’s last conversation with Two-Brains before leaving for college. Sweet and heartbreaking even if it could’ve gone a little deeper. Brief mentions of past Steven. As their last WG fic, it’s a nice send-off.

Wordgirl/Tobey (or Tobecky)

Title: New and Subtle Shades | Author: otempora16 | Words: 6k | Rated K+

Growing up is hard, and growing up a superhero is harder. But amidst all the stress and struggle of her freshman year of high school, Wordgirl starts to realize that support, friendship, and fun can be found in the most unexpected of places. Oneshot, focusing on an older Wordgirl's relationships with her villains.

Once again, the otempora16′s dialogue is on point. This fic focuses on WG’s relationship with The Butcher, Leslie, Dr. Two Brains, Chuck, and finally Tobey. It’s incredibly sweet and charming, and shows Wordgirl and Tobey in the earliest stages of a relationship in an entirely believable way. Also featuring Dr. Two Brains as an overprotective father figure.

Title: Green World | Author: otempora16 | Words: 3k | Rated K+

Becky Botsford's superhero duties have run her off her feet lately, and she knows she needs to crack down on schoolwork if she wants to finish junior year strong. But when warm summer breezes are blowing, the carnival is in town, and Tobey McCallister is standing outside her window ... well, some nights are just begging to be seized.

A fun and delightful fic of Becky and Tobey having a good time.

Title: From Good to Rotten | Author: Laura Latts | Words: 25k | Rated K+

After the amnesia ray, what if Two-Brains didn't forget everything? What if he was just waiting? Waiting for the perfect moment to get Wordgirl once and for all...

Dr. Two Brains remembers Wordgirl’s secret identity from a previous episode where it was revealed, and uses a special ray to turn her evil and use her to do his bidding. Highly interesting, and written in the style of the show (with a narrator, defined words, and a similar style of humor). Features the rest of the villains saving Wordgirl from herself and Dr. Two Brains being a bit of a jerk.

Title: Something Hidden | Author: HibiscusAngel15 | Words: 137k | Rated K+

Tobey just can't shake the feeling that Becky is WordGirl, no matter how many times he's been wrong before. The only question is of how to prove it.

Nothing to add. Just a great fic.

Title: Have You Seen My Robut? | Author: HibiscusAngel15 | Words: 3k | Rated K

Today was just not Tobey McCallister's day. After his latest robotic creation to help the city malfunctions and runs off on him, he's left with no choice but to work together with his nemesis WordGirl to find it. But how can the two even hope to work together, especially when she's a supervillain? An AU one-shot where Tobey and Becky's roles are reversed.

Interesting concept I’d love to see explored more. I’m always a sucker for Wordgirl as a villain, and Tobey as a hero was nice to see. Additionally, Wordgirl is the one with the crush on Tobey in this universe. I thought it stayed true to both characters and was well-written.

Title: Saving Tobey | Author: Night_N_Gail | Words: 92k | Rated: Gen

“I’m telling you, WordGirl, that kid is a time bomb. You think he’s a menace NOW? Wait until he’s a teenager and his emotions are running wild. Wait until he’s an adult and he’s not afraid of his mother anymore. It won't be pretty, I can promise you that." -:- Post-series

Slowburn relationship with Tobey gradually going over to the good side. First part of a three part series by the same author. I have not read the sequels, so I can’t recommend them, but if you like “Saving Tobey” give them a try.

Dr. Two Brains/Lady Redundant Woman

Title: A Provocloniversary | Author: Unbalanced Enigma | Words: 3k | Rated: K+

A Dr. Two Brains and Lady Redundant Woman fluffy one-shot taking place at a villain convention. It works off the assumption that they've already been an item for awhile, six months to be precise. The doctor wants to celebrate the events, but awkward and silly interruptions ensue. This features a wide variety. Rated K for a little suggestive romancing.

This fic is really cute and well-written. The characterization is spot-on for everyone and has plenty of humor. I especially enjoyed Tobey getting back at Two-Brains for the events of Mousezilla. As someone who did ship Provoclone back in the day, this fic is a definite recommend.

Dr. Two Brains, Squeaky, and Steven

Title: Descent Into Madness | Author: Laura Latts | Words: 1k | Rated: K+

No one really knew what happened. What he went through during the incident. What happened when Prof. Steven Boxleitner became Dr. Two-Brains?

An interesting exploration of the time between Steven’s “Oh no, this is going to sting” and him running into Becky and TJ. Short but dark and interesting.

Title: A Science Experiment Gone Horribly Wrong | Author: 3LNR | Words: 2k | Rated: K+

This fanfic is a detailed description of Steven's thoughts and feelings before, during, and after his fateful experiment. It includes Two Brains' and Squeaky's viewpoints as well. The day starts out very normally, but gradually becomes more creepy and intense as the story progresses. Rated K+ for somewhat disturbing but non-graphic content.

For a fic I wrote 6 years ago, I think it holds up pretty well. Give it a read if you’re a fan of Two Brains.

Title: When I Don’t Remember You | Author: 3LNR | Words: 3k | Rated K+

Dr. Two Brains goes on a mysterious trip to a place he had almost forgotten.

Another angsty fic I wrote six years ago, where Two Brains briefly reunites with Steven’s parents. It does not go well. Song title is inspired by the song of the same name from the series “Adventure Time”.

Title: Take Care of Them | Author: orphan_account | Words: 1k | Rated: Gen

After a stupid mistake, Two Brains and Steven have a heart to heart while Two Brains dies. (Squeaky dies too)

Sad fic in which Steven gets his freedom at the expense of Dr. Two Brains’ life. Short but memorable enough to earn a spot on the list.

Title: A Late Night Chat | Author: Donotquestionme | Words: 1-3k | Rated: Unknown

“Remember, whatever I say, don’t open this door until morning, got it?” The henchmen shuffled their feet anxiously. They never quite understood what went on behind that heavy, padlocked door, and they weren’t sure they wanted to. All they knew was that, every once in a while, their boss would lock himself in that room and, for the next few hours, muffled shouting could be heard coming from behind the door. Even stranger, sometimes they swore they could hear crying.

This might be the first WG fic I ever read, so it holds a special place in my heart. It was also written by someone with a fantastic ask blog that’s been on hiatus for years now (ask-dr-two-brains) who has a perfect grasp on the character. This fic is about the unanswerable question of whether Steven could bring himself to kill Two Brains if he had the chance to set himself free. I wish this person had written more, but it's fabulous nonetheless.

#wordgirl #dr. two brains #tobey mccallister #steven boxleitner #lady redundant woman #becky botsford #fanfic recommendation #fanfic recs #wordgirl fanfic #I might update this list if I find more I'd like to add

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puttingfingerstokeys · 4 years

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penultimate

you wanna be a wee bit sad today? GOOD. -nutpunches the testes of your heart- as usual, tumblr fucked my italics and I’m channeling Kung Lao today--gunna nap instead of do shit about it

shaolin rowdy boys pining implied - LiuLao, uh hmm what else? Just Lao in this one. Nothing juicy

Broken Timeline

“Do you know what it is like?” He speaks to no one, his voice barely above a whisper, alone in the Shirai-Ryu’s famous Fire Gardens. There is a koi pond nearby, with a small cascade of water dumping its contents into the clear water from a stream that seems to loop all the way through the picturesque gardens. It is almost unbelievable that one of the two deadliest assassin clans calls this place their dojo and home. His reflection ripples back up at him as he turns to watch the fish and he frowns. “Huh?” He grunts, “DO you?”

Of course not, he thinks bitterly, how could you—how could you know what any of this is like when you are so… so perfect. His frustration mounts and he pulls the wide-brimmed hat off his head and sticks the bladed edge angrily into the dirt next to him. In times of distress, every teacher he has ever had has told Kung Lao that meditation is an acceptable, even laudable solution. He swallows down the thick, ugly lump in his throat and chokes on his resentment, which he knows is foolish, bratty, and misdirected. It is unbecoming of a White Lotus. He knows what Lord Raiden would say.

“Release your anger, Kung Lao,” Lao rumbles in his best imitation of Raiden’s thundery voice, “it will only consume you.”

He scoffs, picking up an orange leaf and examining it without really seeing what he is observing. His eyes scan the veins and cracks without absorbing any of it before he tosses it into the pond. It is light and does not go as far as his mind wishes it would. Color settles high on his cheeks as he props his chin on one hand, elbow on his knee.

“Tell that to future you, Lord Raiden—frying your favorite student and letting the spare…” He reaches up reflexively to rub his neck where he can almost feel the pressure of hands wrapping around jaw and shoulder, wrenching his spine and ending his life. Well… sort of. He and Liu Kang had recently come face to face with their revenants and, while they, the living Shaolin, had been successful, seeing himself, torn, ashen, cracked like the earth after a volcanic eruption, with such deep hatred in his eyes… it had been, to say the least, jarring.

It jars him even now as he observes his own, sharp, dark eyes in the pond once more. A fish surfaces to beg for food, prodding at the leaf. Unsatisfied, it sinks once more, flashing its beautiful orange-and-white body once and disappearing in the depths.

“How can I release something that is part of me?” He tilts his head back, running his hand over his bare scalp, feeling the growth of a few days, craving a razor. He has become so accustomed to a lack of hair that any little bit makes the leather cap he often wears begin to chafe. Today, it is absent as he and the others have been instructed to rest before the assault on Kronika’s keep—the realm and home of a titan. He does not relish the thought of entering Netherrealm on his own steam, but it is, he thinks, perhaps a bit better than doing it on someone else’s watch.

Supposedly they will, if all goes as planned, be utilizing Kharon’s fleet to sail the blood sea. The ferryman of hell can evidently be persuaded to help them right the wrongs Kronika has committed upon the people of this timeline (and evidently many others, though his understanding of such things is beneath what one might call rudimentary). For once, Lao is content with the “it is not for us to know” explanation. Thinking about this, about any of it, makes his head spin. And spinning is usually his specialty.

Of himself, he thinks he has done well, has kept his cool as best he can, has done anything and everything Raiden has asked of him, would gladly do it again now that he has seen the god’s power in action properly and has gotten to know Raiden the way Liu Kang always has (or the way his faith has propelled him to believe and thence to know). Lao is, at least for now, somewhat content with the work he has done. He has contributed to a real, tangible cause and that does, indeed, feel good. But it is not good enough. It does not settle entirely upon his restless spirit. He cannot decide if it is his doubting nature, or if it is something else which drives him now to continue this one-sided dialogue.

“Do you know why my parents named me Lao?” His smile is harsh and bitter, like the rare sunlight over Arctika. In theory, it is the sun, but in practice, it is little more than chilly, diffuse illumination. Lao pauses as if waiting for a reply, but the fish and the breeze offer none, so he continues. “A prophecy.” His shoulders sag and he slumps a little, staring at his hands. They are strong hands, calloused and scarred with many healed cuts—and some not-so-healed. They have served him well, but, like everything else in his life never well enough. “I think they just wanted me to be like my ancestor, you know? The Great Kung Lao—so they call me Lao and hope that I… do not dishonor him.”

He allows the silence to hang in the air, accompanied only by the burble of the stream and small waterfall that feeds the pond, the whisper of leaves dancing in a light breeze, and whatever sound sunlight makes when it falls gently upon the earth. In the distance, he might, were he to concentrate, hear the voices of his friends, but his attention is only upon the here and now, directed inward.

“They are more worried about being dishonored themselves.” Lao scoffs, leaning back and watching the sky overhead. Large, fluffy clouds glide serenely above, unaware of the turmoil in his heart—perhaps uncaring. He wishes he could let it go. He wishes he too could simply cease caring and simply do his duty as the ideal, humble monk. “But I cannot,” he growls, “because I AM not. I… fear and I doubt and I fight harder than anyone else just to be… second best.” If that.

Orphan or not, Liu Kang should have been named after the Great Kung Lao. It is he who carries the legacy, even if Lao bears the name and the blood. Much rests upon that name in their ancient and venerated clan, so there is much to dishonor. Lao has become skilled at repeatedly doing just that, whether he means to or not. It is difficult to say what, if anything specific, had been the “final straw” which pushed him toward the rank of black sheep, sacred name and all.

At least I am not the only disappointment in the family, he thinks bitterly. It is an unkind reflection and, though he has only actually met his nephew a handful of times, briefly, and of course when the boy had been much younger than he likely is now, he does not equate their struggles. All the same, he considers, I would become his friend, I think… if I survive this.

Plans for return are far from his mind. In fact, Lao has come to grips with the fact that he will not be coming home at all. “That should bring the honor I was missing all these years,” he opines, stretching his legs out to either side of the rocky edge of the pond and bending over them, stretching his limbs and breathing deeply, trying to follow Raiden’s imaginary advice. Even without the thunder god’s pedantic scolding, Lao knows that this, too, is a selfish thought and centers himself to banish it, as well. He finds himself attempting to banish many thoughts these days, and they are only coming on more strongly.

Bending first to one side and then the other, Lao stretches, breathes, and then sits back up, straightening and re-folding his legs. The sunlight glints off the edge of his hat, still lodged in the earth nearby as he lays his hands in his lap in the old meditative pose, closing his eyes. His chest expands and contracts with forced slowness, all effort concentrating into wrangling, controlling, and releasing the thoughts which buzz about his mind like bees. Outwardly, he is the picture of serenity, the perfect monk.

He supposes that this is how it must remain. Until he can prove himself worthy, he will always be the number two Shaolin. That is not what rankles him most, however. It is that Liu Kang is absolutely his biggest fan, his most ardent supporter, and actually listens to him when he does express doubt. How can he harbor any harsh feelings toward or in relation to someone like that?

I love him, he thinks, and he’s going to walk right into his death… I will follow him, because that is what I always do. If Liu Kang is the lamb to slaughter, then what does that make him? What abbertoire awaits them in Netherrealm? Is Raiden yet again leading them into a massacre? His hands are balled into fists upon his lap and the meditative serenity is lost. He feels tears sting the corners of his eyes.

“I love you, Liu Kang.” And it is too damn late to do anything about it.

#cc #cw #mortal kombat #kung lao #liu kang #shaolin rowdy boys #liulao

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coffeebeannate · 3 years

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Taken from @werebearbearbar

Rules: It’s time to love yourselves! Choose your 5 favorite works (fics, art, edits, etc.) you’ve created this year and link them below to reflect on the amazing things you’ve brought into the world in 2020. If you don’t have five published works, that’s fine! Include ideas/drafts/whatever you like that you’ve worked on/thought about, and talk a little about them instead! Remember, this is all about self-love and positive enthusiasm, so fuck the rules if you need to. Have fun, and tag as many fellow creators as you like so they can share the love! <3

I started writing fic years and years ago. And have done so in other fandoms before taking a long hiatus from the writing world in general. I stuck with written roleplay only. For what I assume to be around four or five years, I did not write a single fic. (I also wrote short stories in childhood, teen years and young adult years)

(I want to point out though that this absolutely does not negate roleplay writing, and that writing with another person, or in a group is a lesser form) My break from fanfic came with one of the worst periods of my mental and physical health, and everything I had written was purged from my Ao3 account in a single night.

I started writing for The Old Guard in August, and below, are the things I like a lot that I’ve written for it. To do this, I decided to use the criteria of ‘fics I like the most’ instead of what seems to be the most popular to read. For me, if I really love a piece of work, I recall the creative process fondly, and have lines and bits of dialogue I truly adore within it.

1. Precision Mission Fic. Gala. Post-Movie. Current Group (Nile, Andy, Joe, NIcky)

Rated M (Mature) 4846 words

My second fic for the fandom that I published, but the first I actually conceptualized. This one is just..so special to me. I have phone notes typed at five am. I can recall the excitement as I was so eager to share this story and get it off the ground. I wanted to see this complete so bad. I loved nearly every second of writing it, and it’s always going to hold a special place in my heart as a result. There’s so much overdone clothing talk and I can only think of it with fondness.

Excerpt:

None of them are comfortable. Except Joe, it seems.

Joe makes it look easy. Simplistic, even, judging by the way he effortlessly glides and charms his way through the expansive ball/congregating/entertaining room. Something that never failed to fascinate Nicky was the way Joe could integrate himself almost seamlessly into any scenario, situation, or environment. Neither Andy nor himself had that ability. Not when it came to cavorting, anyway. Nicky more quietly reserved, Andy lacking in the ability to care enough to fake it.

Nile seemed to be more in the middle. She did not appear overly comfortable with the mingling, but she had enough personal grace and adaptability to make it seem somewhat effortless to have a decent time.

All their eyes remained sharp on the surrounding area, awaiting the arrival of their target. And for all his schmoozing, Nicky knew Joe’s surveillance was tack-sharp, multitasking to a degree no one he was currently conversing with could have possibly noticed.

“You going to move at some point, or have you taken up permanent resident status here?” Nile asks, appearing at his side where Nicky has spent the last half-hour molded to the furthest left corner of the solid black bar. “I know you have an excellent view, but.”

Nicky snorted, though only Nile could actually tell, “Why waste a good opportunity?”, momentarily ceasing his Joe watching to stare back into the depths of his glass, which currently contained some horrifically shocking pink abomination, Nicky’s second drink, since he was letting the bar tender dictate them, too utterly distracted to care what was touching his lips, and curious with the way the bar tender had delighted in being given free reign to make whatever he desired.

To be fair, it didn’t taste that bad-something frighteningly sugary and weirdly noxious smelling, but it’s not exactly ‘crime against humanity’ levels of alcoholic nightmares.

2. Old

Post-movie. Current Group. (Andy, Nile, Joe, Nicky) Mortal Andy. Character study.

Rated T (Teen and Up Audiences), 2903 words.

My first attempt at Andy-centric writing. Andy is a character I consider a challenge to write, and that makes me want to write her more. This fic centers mostly around her and the others trying to come to terms with how much has happened, within day to day life and taking the comfort that they can in one another.

I really like this fic. A lot. Sure it’s short. Sure maybe not much happens, but Andy’s character fascinates me, as does her relationship with her family.

Excerpt:

Old.

Old

So motherfucking old.

Someone is calling out to her, her hearing and senses long fine-tuned to knowing. It’s Nicky- she can easily pretend she can’t hear him, he knows when she doesn’t want to talk to anyone, after all.

She’s being petty, and she knows it’s unfair. That the nearly untouched plate and nights spent not sleeping gives them reason to be at her. But facing them with that fact feels about as ideal as jumping into a flaming volcano right about now. They’re just worried. It makes her stomach turn, sour and vicious. Venom in the gut, acid in the heart.

Said volcano would be kinder.

3. Spice it Up (Or Not)

Joe and Nicky. Pre-Movie. Fluffy Lovings

Rated: E (Explicit) 3030 words

This one was just fun. I am such a sucker for banting, and the most established of established relationships that Nicky and Joe have going on. This one is indeed not safe for work, and honestly, the opening paragraphs are what came first, and I actually had to build the story around it.

Something that I think makes this fic fun to me as well is that, just because something that sounded like a good idea fails, it doesn’t make it an ending. Healthy communication, knowing each other..it’s so blissful to think about.

Things aren’t always perfect, but that’s okay. And it’s not always a threat. Oh and because this is me, what was supposed to be fairly light hearted gets all sappy and reflective mid-way.

Excerpt:

He knows Nicky in every way. He knows his scent from battle, from sex, from showers and from sleep. He knows his eyes in darkness, in light, in dread, excitement and worry. He knows his grief, his love, his sadness, and adoration. Excitement, passion, fear, and pain.

He could count each tear that Nicky has shed, could recall each tone of his voice in every language they know. From the first he heard to the current. The sweet harmony of song and the rough gasp of drunk intoxication. He’s heard him yell, heard him scream. Heard his shouts and his cries.

He knows how Nicky tends to favour his left shoulder even though there’s no reason beyond psychological to do so. A spot Joe stabbed so long ago. So far back in another life. He knows how he likes to pause and do surveillance before they enter any new location. Knows he likes vehicles that move fast and has a fondness for roller coasters.

He’s seen those hands, so large and skilled break bone, wield a sword and cut vegetables and fruit. Seen them card through his hair, felt them map out each knot and ridge in his spine and ribs, felt them so deep inside himself he can taste it. Rolling into it. Demanding, needing.

“Yusuf.” Nicky’s not calling him back, Nicky’s just as far gone. So often they seem to share thoughts.

Nicky knows Joe in all ways and more. Knows that Joe still sometimes seems to speak ancient by-gone languages in his sleep. Knows that he tends to carry the strongest personal scent in the dead of night. That no shower, no soap, no life experience or battle has truly ever masked the delightful musk he has to himself. There could be a cologne out there that would modify it, and Nicky would bite and lick it away. Demanding and asking, why take this from me? How dare you try to alter what I know and love so furiously?

4. Touch Before Heart

Historical Kaysanova. Early Years. Pre-Movie. Getting to Know Eachother.

Rated E (Explicit) 5030 words

As is pretty obvious by now, I write a LOT of early years Kaysanova. A lot. I am addicted to it.

This one..I love it. This might be one of my favourite pieces of writing of all time. If I was doing these numbers strictly in order preference, then I’d put it as number one I bet.

I think the summary I made for it sums up well just how much I love it. And maybe why.

The first moment they’re able to have a bath, they resolutely do not look at each other. Picking opposite ends of the small stream bed, backs turned to one another. A strange show of both trust and distrust; their backs were exposed, but it was up to their tentative mutual agreement to not partake in the opportunity to stab each other for it.

The..idea that they had so much to learn, so much to understand. So much confusion, anger mistrust..I just really really adore this fic and I think I did a good job with it.

Excerpt:

He curses in unison with Nicolò, both holding fast and steady as the thing finally rights itself, Nicolò letting out a slow, shaken breath of relief.

“Are you alright?” Yusuf asks, both to break the silence and mend the irritating gap they’ve created for themselves.

“Better. Thank you.”

Yusuf wants to scream.

He wants to grab Nicolò, shake him until he can do nothing but give him answers.

Why do you drive me to the brink of madness?

Why do I know your touch, but not your heart?

Why do you tempt me, consume me?

What does it mean?

Why are we here?

Why!?

It is an unfair desire; he’s hardly given the man any more clarity.

5. Curated

Post-Movie. Current Group (Nile, Andy, Joe, Nicky)

Rated G (General Audiences) 1807 words

Alright, I admit it, I had trouble picking number five. I picked Curated because it’s just..so fluffy. But it’s so sweet I always feel so sugary when I think of it. The softness that I tried to convey, and I think I succeeded.

Nile is another character that fascinates me, that I just do not explore enough, and this is all the comforting goodness I could ever hope to create.

Excerpt:

She’s grown used to the easy intimacy they all share, but the sight before her, Nicky’s eyes half-lidded, face a perfect serenity she rarely see’s on it, Joe lost, far-away in reciting but still wholly present, creates an odd, near-throbbing ache in her chest. Something powerful and raw. It’s hard to imagine that people who have been alive this long can be this content.

Everything they’ve seen, experienced and done. All the stories they’ve regaled her with. All the prep, the anxieties, the concerns, and curiosities. None of it seems to exist in these moments. Joe speaking in a language the world might think dead, the true master of softness within the room.

And there we have it! I have so much more I want to write, I have so much more I want to explore, and I thank you all for sharing in these journey’s with me. May there be more writing in our future!

#nate does writing #end of year fic thing #self positivity #things nate has written #long post

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mediaeval-muse · 4 years

Text

Book Review

Bride By Mistake. By Anne Gracie. New York: Berkley Sensation, 2012.

Rating: 2/5 stars

Genre: historical romance

Part of a Series? Yes, Devil Riders #5

Summary: Eight years ago, Lieutenant Luke Ripton made a hasty wartime marriage-in-name-only to protect a young girl from a forced union and left her protected in a remote mountain convent. Now, Luke is Lord Ripton, but he has been unable to obtain an annulment. Which leaves him no choice but to claim a wife he doesn't want. For nearly a decade, Isabella has waited like a princess locked in a tower, dreaming of her handsome, dark-haired prince. Her dreams are shattered when Luke reveals himself not as a prince, but an autocratic soldier, expecting her unquestioning obedience, which is something Isabella's fiercely independent nature will not tolerate. And while Luke and Isabella's fiery personalities clash at every turn, they remain bound to their vows, never expecting that the passionate fury they share could become passion of a different kind...

***Full review under the cut.***

Content/Trigger Warnings: attempted sexual assault, violence, sexual content, torture

Overview: When I started reading this book, I had the strangest feeling that I had read it before, but I didn’t remember how the plot went, nor could I find any record of a review, so here it is now. Bride By Mistake had the potential for a great story: a fiercely independent heroine, a journey to rescue an abandoned half-sister, love growing between two people who married to prevent one of them from suffering a worse fate, etc. I think I would have been on board if not for the hero, who I found hard to like. I didn’t feel like he respected our heroine at all, even after he opened up about his past, which made it hard for me to root for the relationship. As a result, this book only gets 2 stars from me.

Writing: Gracie’s writing seems to change between the first thirty or so pages and the rest of the book. The first couple chapters seem to rush through the narrative quickly, dumping a bunch of dialogue and a rushed flashback on the reader to set up the situation before getting to the main plot. Once we get to that point, the writing seems to flow a bit better, giving insight into what characters are thinking and feeling. Granted, it’s not a high literary style - Gracie’s prose is simple, and sometimes has a tendency to be repetitive (there’s a lot of observations of what the heroine’s legs and backside look like in her riding pants, for example, and we’re repeatedly told how Isabella isn’t pretty/not conventionally attractive), but I was able to immerse myself in the story, so I feel like it did the job.

Plot: Aside from the romance, the main plot of this novel takes place a number of years following a war. Our heroine, Isabella, and our hero, Luke, married as strangers during the conflict in order to protect Isabella (an heiress) from being forcibly married to her cousin, Ramon, who was after the family fortune. Because Luke was still a soldier, he left Isabella in a monastery for her own protection. Now, eight years later, Luke has been denied an annulment, and so he has come to Spain to collect his wife and return to England. However, before she leaves, Isabella insists on travelling to her family estate to retrieve her abandoned half-sister, who she fears might have been forced into becoming Ramon’s mistress. Meanwhile, Luke’s PTSD makes him anxious, and he constantly fights with her about returning to England so he can arrive in time for his youngest sister’s first come-out.

In terms of setting up a conflict, I feel like this book had potential. I liked the idea of Isabella doing the right thing by her sister, despite having mixed feelings about the favoritism that her father showed towards his illegitimate daughter. It nicely mirrored the family feelings Luke had towards his own sister, and the two protagonists had some good conversations based on those parallels. However, a lot of the middle of the book felt like an uneventful journey. Sure, the protagonists had personal conflicts, but nothing really built the anticipation for their arrival at the family estate. Instead, we get some silly things, like an inn having fleas and causing a whole debacle. I’m not against light, fluffy things like this, but I would have liked to see Isabella and Luke working together more to come up with a plan in anticipation of their showdown with Ramon.

When they finally do encounter Ramon and Isabella’s sister, Perlita, I found the character interactions to be both interesting and silly. I liked how Perlita and Isabella talked about their childhoods and came to respect one another, as well as how Perlita’s desires were quite different from what Isabella expected. It’s complicated and messy and utterly unsatisfying, but in a way that challenges the reader to think about accepting what other people want, even if it’s not “proper.” That being said, Ramon and Luke’s interactions completely transcended the bounds of reality for me. In one scene, Ramon and Luke threaten to kill one another over Isabella, yet once it’s made clear that Ramon would gain nothing by marrying her, everyone settles down and has lunch. Ramon and Perlita then invite the two to stay overnight, which seems preposterous given that the men almost came to blows and, as far as I could tell, still hated one another.

After they leave the estate, Isabella and Luke visit a family friend, and there, they encounter someone from Luke’s traumatic past. I found this part of the plot rather rushed and somewhat sloppy. Despite the trauma supposedly affecting Luke from the beginning, it felt like the details were dumped on the reader with barely 1/3 of the novel left, and so it felt hollow and inserted for a final bit of action. I wish this part of the plot has been more integral to the story, rather than having it all condensed into a few pages near the end.

I will caution readers that early in the book, we are shown a flashback that details how Luke and Isabella meet, and it involves attempted sexual assault. Luke, who is a soldier returning from an errand, happens to hear a girl screaming, so he goes to investigate. He finds a nameless Spanish soldier attempting to rape Isabella, who is 13 and has been stripped naked. While the soldier isn’t successful and his violence against Isabella isn’t overly graphic, we are subject to some descriptions of Isabella’s body, which, in my opinion, had a tendency to be uncomfortable. Descriptions of how she barely has breasts and no hips just shows me that Luke is taking note of these things, which feels icky. Thus, I wouldn’t recommend this book if you’re sensitive to plots involving attempted sexual assault.

I will also say that this book doesn’t do a very good job regarding representing Spanish and Roma culture. Every description of Spain and Spanish life seemed to be banal, from randomly eating churros to taking a siesta. The richness and complexity of Spanish culture isn’t really explored, which is a shame since Isabella’s Spanish heritage mainly seemed to enhance the idea that Isabella = Spanish = passion, contrasting with the frivolousness of English women and society. On top of that, there is a scene where Isabella and Luke are at a market, and they happen to witness some Roma people singing and dancing. Gracie uses the g-slur, though I don’t think it was used in malice. However, the dance is sensual and erotic, which causes Luke and Isabella to become aroused. It further lent credence to the implication that Spain is a land of passion for Luke, and though Spain is not overly exoticized, I do think implying that it is a world where passion can flourish is rather stereotypical.

Characters: Isabella, our heroine, is fairly likable in that she doesn’t let Luke push her around. She’s headstrong and confident, and on top of that, she has a strong sense of duty to her sister. I admired that about her, and loved seeing moments when she would defy expectations and show that she really is capable of handling things herself. The only things I found mildly irritating was her ridiculous innocence regarding sex and her tendency to be overly emotional. Regarding the former, Isabella has cringey moments such as thinking that sex with a man might be like sex between horses or other animals. I dislike it when virgin heroines are that naive because it’s not very realistic. Regarding her emotion, emotion itself isn’t a bad thing, but it didn’t endear me to her when these moods seemed to be connected to her childishness rather than anything substantive. For example, Isabella dramatically flees the scene and cries when she learns Luke requested an annulment, in part because she had been entertaining childish fantasies that he would sweep her away from the monastery like a knight in shining armor. She also gets extremely upset and yells at Luke for not being happy that she is a virgin, which would have been ok if it were mostly about honor, but the scene also involves a discussion about Isabella’s ignorance about sex and what it entails. It just felt like all her passionate moods were in some way framed as juvenile, and I wasn’t really into it.

Luke, our hero, is hard to like because at best, he’s a gruff ex-soldier who expects obedience from his wife, and at worst, a misogynist. I could have been on board with an ex-soldier who approaches marriage as a commanding officer would, but then learns that the two are very different and a partnership is more fulfilling. Luke, however, doesn’t seem to be open to the idea. At least early on, whenever Isabella would do something, he would think things like “He was going to show her tonight who wore the pants in this marriage.” While he never hit or raped her, the idea that he would “show her who is boss” left a bad taste in my mouth. On top of that, Luke would also think about how he despises certain traits in women. He thinks of Isabella’s friends at the convent as mindless and frivolous, he rejects London women because they are shallow, and says a few times that he can’t stand dishonesty in women because of the one time in his past that a woman hurt him. It was honestly tiring and because it takes so long for him to even begin to reexamine himself, I wasn’t convinced that he had any admirable qualities other than being physically attractive.

Like Luke, our main antagonist, Ramon, is also fairly misogynistic. Though he had more complex motivations than we are initially led to believe (which I appreciated), he did use words like “bitch” and “slut,” which killed much of the interest I had in seeing him as a multifaceted character.

Perlita is much more interesting in that she harbors little malice towards her sister and refuses to be rescued. She emphasizes that her living situation is enough for her and does not want others making decisions on her behalf, even if they would raise her to enjoy a more “proper” life. I liked the relationship that she had with Isabella - the two talk at length about how their father treated them differently and how they feel about each other, and I loved that they came to feel real affection for each others’ well-being.

Romance: I’m just going to say it - I wasn’t a fan of Luke and Isabella’s romance. Luke was way too dominating and didn’t seem to value Isabella at all, and it only seemed like he came to value her once he opened up about his past (and even then, he seemed to value her for what she was able to do to comfort him and keep him on his toes, not as a partner in her own right). Some may chalk it up to his anxiety about being in Spain again, where his worst memories took place, but just because a character has trauma, that doesn’t mean he can be a jerk without consequences. The point where this particularly became a big “nope” for me was when the two first had sex. Isabella and Luke are staying the night at an inn, and they start to get it on, as couples in a romance novel will do. However, when he penetrates her, she screams in pain. Instead of stopping to see what’s wrong, Luke keeps going until he is sated, and then they make a big deal about Isabella’s virginity. This lack of caring for her physical and emotional well-being put me off completely, and I gave up hope of Luke ever truly learning how to see his wife as a partner (rather than a subordinate).

Overall, this book suffers from a lack of suspense and an insufferable hero, and while I did like the heroine and enjoyed the interaction between the sisters, it wasn’t enough to overcome the lackluster narrative progression and rapey vibes from Luke’s POV.

#book reviews

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