tristansarchive

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honestly considering posting a couple oneshots for valeskacest i never finished just bc they're hilarious and im so fond of them...

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Fandom OC Ask Meme

⟢⋱⟡☾ a collection of asks for OCs belonging to specific fandoms

How does (canon character) feel about your OC?

How does your OC feel about (canon character)?

Has your OC ever made (canon character) laugh? / What about cry?

Do your OC and (canon character) ever cross paths?

Which canon character annoys your OC?

What canon character gets annoyed by your OC?

Which canon character respects your OC most? What gained that respect?

Which canon character doesn’t respect your OC whatsoever?

Which canon character does your OC respect a lot?

Which canon character does your OC not respect at all? Why?

Which canon character is pissed off by the general presence of OC? (we all have those people)

Does your OC have a crush on anyone?

Who would probably have a crush on your OC?

Who would your OC most likely to get a puppy-crush on? (but it can’t be the cc they’re actually shipped with!)

Who would your OC say is their best friend?

Who would call your OC their best friend?

Who has brought your OC to tears before?

Who has your OC made cry?

Is there someone your OC didn’t like at first, but then got along with later?

Is there someone your OC liked at first, but then grew to dislike?

Who does your OC hate?

Who does your OC love? (platonic)

Who does your OC love? (familial)

Does your OC love anyone? (romantic)

Has your OC ever had to let a canon character down easy?

Has your OC ever been rejected by a canon character?

Did your OC bear witness to anyone’s full character arc?

What is the worst thing your OC does in their story?

What is your OC’s ‘‘darkness moment’’ in the plot?

What is your OC’s redemption moment?

Is there a canon character that your OC needs to ask forgiveness towards?

Is there a canon character your OC needs to forgive?

Is there anyone who your OC would die for?

Is there a canon character who would die for your OC?

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Take All Of Me (It's So Good, So Good)

Summary: Jerome's idealization of a perfect morning revolves around one simple factor: Jeremiah's attention.

Words: 3,558, Chapters: 1/1, Language: English

Additional Tags: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence; Jerome Valeska Lives; Established Relationship; Partners in Crime; Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot; Yet More Weird Petnames I Made Up For Them; Tattooed Jerome Valeska; Post-Laughing Toxin Jeremiah Valeska; Top Jeremiah Valeska; Bottoming from the Top; Domestic Fluff; POV Jerome Valeska; Jerome Valeska is a Cockslut; Sorry Not Sorry; Laughing-Toxin Side Effects; Jerome Valeska's Sense of Humor;

Read on AO3!

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When You Move I Fall To My Knees

Summary: How much chaos can Jerome Valeska bring into a sweaty, anxious morning at school?

Honestly, Jeremiah should've seen it coming.

Words: 7,779, Chapters: 2/2, Language: English

Additional Tags: Minor Original Character(s); Alternate Universe - High School; Morally Ambiguous Bruce Wayne; Rich Kid Bruce Wayne; Bruce Wayne & Jerome Valeska's Fellowship of Little Shits; Their Lives Are All So Dramatic The Incest Barely Registers; Pre-Slash; Soft Jeremiah Valeska; Protective Jerome Valeska; Anyone Called Co-dependency? It's Here; Tooth-Rotting Fluff; Cheerleader Jerome Valeska;

Read on AO3!

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Acting Tough (I Know You're Not)

Summary: Jeremiah might be, ever so slightly, losing it.

Words: 1,683, Chapters: 1/1, Language: English

Additional Tags: Jerome's Laughing Toxin Clown Box; Post-Laughing Toxin Jeremiah Valeska; Mental Instability; Implied/Referenced Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism; Violent Thoughts; more specifically of; Animal Abuse; Jeremiah Valeska Has Issues; he's kinda made of them tbh; but hey guess what; Jerome Valeska Lives; Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence; Cat Owner Jeremiah Valeska; Jeremiah Valeska Has Migraines; Laughing-Toxin Side Effects; the incest is like SUUUUUPER implied

Read on AO3!

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All This Red? Means I Love You

Summary: It's another quiet night — according to the antique clock by their nightstand that his twin had found interesting enough to keep there, past ten p.m. — in the new chapter of their lives, and Jeremiah finds his twin's high pain tolerance to be bothersome, fascinating but most of all, foreseeable.

Words: 2,459, Chapters: 1/1, Language: English

Additional Tags: Blood Kink; scars as a love language; Dom/sub Undertones; Hand Jobs; Tongue-Fucking A Wound And It Isn't Even The Worst Jeremiah Wants To Do; Implied/Referenced Necrophilia; Violent sexual fantasies; Religious Imagery & Symbolism; (I Mean It's The Valeskas); Established Relationship; Criminally Insane & In Love; Twisted and Fluffy Feelings; Post-Laughing Toxin Jeremiah Valeska; Jerome Valeska Lives; Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence

Read on AO3!

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Quentin doesn't seem to mind the abrupt change of subject, but he doesn't make mention of taking the conversation seriously either— he keeps on dragging the knuckles of his stupidly large hand along the bare skin of his arm, drawing goosebumps in its wake. Eyes closed, not a sign of a tense muscle or quickening heartbeat; he's as relaxed as ever, lulling Peter into that same sense of calm with the rise and fall of his chest as words finally push past his lips and fill the silent, empty-looking room. - "If there's something that Stark has taught me in his generous wisdom, is that people won't give you what you deserve. You've got to take it yourself."

Ignoring Quentin's exhausted, familiar antics, Peter's left with the implications of his words and how they once would've sounded so beyond him; it's too bitter of a worldview, it leaves no space for trust or hope, least of all healing. A twisted, self-serving analysis that explains the man underneath him so well— his fingers curls over the sprinkle of hair over Quentin's stomach, he doesn't know what to do with the understanding that downs on him. What it means for the Peter he is now. - "I can't do the same as you. I'm not like you."

Quentin hums, his tone contains a forced playfulness that the teen already knows what to associate with. - "That's 'cause you're weak, honey. Why I'm taking you instead."

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I-I-I wanna give you One last option I-I-I wanna give you One last chance I-If you're looking for the Main attraction Just hold on tight and Let me do my dance Va Va Voom

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Reckless don't mean a thing If you ain't kinda hopeless As she told me not to waste Another moment No point resisting Giving up control Hot Mess

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Come inside of my heart If you're looking for answers Look at the stars, go a little bit faster Date In The Woods Special (Come Inside of my Heart)

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GRIMM S01EP18 [Cat and Mouse]

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It's the way you move I knew I would stay with you After just one touch The way you move has got me stuck Stuck

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He Dreams In Anger

Summary: Witnessing madness can be a heartbreaking affair.

Words: 837, Chapters: 1/1, Language: English

Additional Tags: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence; Ecco POV; Grief/Mourning; Jerome Valeska is dead; Jerome's Diary; Post-Laughing Toxin Jeremiah Valeska; Implied/Referenced Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism; Canon-Typical Violence; Mental Instability; Hurt No Comfort; Unhealthy Relationships; Gotham (TV) Season/Series 04 Fix-it;

Read on AO3!

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It's there, fallen open on the floor, and immediately her first thought is to lean down and take the journal in her hands, rushed and wishing for no blemishes to the pages; precise, she would shut and return it to the next best thing besides the unconscious body curled tightly, unmoving back facing her— a small table, decorated by a presently inactive lonely lamp, but that she knew to flicker now and then, something within it loose from a loud crash she does not make mention of.

Her steps make no sound, though her body can't help but protest the sudden drop of temperature around her with a shiver, the door behind her slightly ajar and bringing forth heat her boss's room lacks— there's something akin to unease surging from deep within her chest but her lips remain pursed, body rigid with hard-earned discipline as she moves closer, not daring a single touch.

Instead, she trusts her naked eye to wander over Jeremiah, without pause to his overall state: her attention not retained by the buttons ripped off his collar or the advancing discoloration of his skin eating at him, that he's been obsessively checking its progress and dulling his nails on the edge of his teeth. She's not surprised to find a bottle loosely cradled to his speckled chest, the veins on his forearms and fist so strikingly visible she can almost make out the poison running through, mostly what Ecco does feel is gratitude, for the smallest, hiccuped rise and fall of a hit-and-miss exhale — it's difficult to ignore the urge to be certain, but her arms stay close to her body, lesson well learned from a last time.

She's petrified in place, the cruel hand wrapped around her wrist shaking with concerning weakness, and yet Ecco's heart's hammering against her ribcage, a cry stuck at her throat because those wide, penetrating pools of ghastly blue hold no recognition or warmth for her, indenting her flesh with half moon marks as he wildly searches for something, bending the bone under his mercy, narrowing his unforgiving glare when she’s not what he wanted—

Assured he's just sleeping, her shoulders drop a centimeter.

It's back to the object at her feet then, that her focus falls to; with its thin spine, the busied leather cover parts under the weight of cheap, plastic gemstones and stickers and what looks like chicken scratch overflows from the interior, underlined footnotes spiraling in different colors by the borders, giving rest to the excessive doodling from earlier pages; a section much closer to the blanks. A part of her, reliant and a proud survivor, a voice she credits to the mother she never knew, resents its rotten messages and whispers of burning it before she’s coming back from contemplating the flame flickering from her lighter, her smoke caught in the dryness of her mouth— the devil hidden in the shadows of her boss’s labyrinth whined about missing a drag often, in his putrid little cell. Fitting.

But another. Her other.

The other Ecco wastes minutes reading, starving her lungs and alert to so much a twitch from the bed, to the lines of a man she hadn't heard much of — each snippet adds a missing stroke to his picture, or rather reunites the broken shards of a forgotten chapel’s stained glass window; he makes a vaguely compelling if pathetic sight in the eye of her mind, she can't still fathom what in him was so extraordinaire to the rest of Gotham, hardly worthy of Jeremiah’s obsessive consideration.

Jerome Valeska writes his memories as tales for crying out loud, except they carry no moral or ending, one beginning where the other ends and often they mingle as he peppers in commentary — every bit the autobiography of a lunatic, and the paper's stained and/or sticky, occasionally glued to one another; some of it’s incomprehensible, not only for the calligraphy itself but for drags of ink that hadn't dried.

"I can feel you, oh, you're so close. I know I feel you all the time. Twins know these things, yeah, and Zach couldn't have gone too far with that junkyard rescue shit of a car— like I said, snookums: won't ever stop, no, not 'til I reach you and when! I! DO! 

OH, YOU, Miah, you. will. tell. THE TRUTH why why did you LEAVE me there TO MY FUGLY FACE AND ALLLLL OF GOTHAM, HAHAHA I CAN'T WAIT TO SEE TOUCH YOU PUT A GUN BETWEEN YOUR SHINY EYES, BABY BROTHER XOXO"

Blotched, few rounds sprinkled across water down the text, some long since wrinkled the pages while others aren’t yet done warping the letters, fresh droplets that run rampant through the slashes of Jerome's pen. 

When the journal finally finds its way safely back to the table, Ecco tells herself her Other must've been too immersed in the deceased Valeska's dramatic writing— empathizing with the agony of an imagined sob she doesn't turn to, on her way out. 

She's not what he wants.

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stuff that feels rewarding as a fanfic author:

when your work inspires fanart/comics

when people point out a scene/particular line(s) that tugged at their heartstrings

when people ask for your meta of your work that they enjoyed so much

when someone comments on a fic you wrote 982783113502 years ago

getting recc’d

just the small happiness in knowing you made someone out there smile on their way to work/home or at school, in knowing you warmed someone’s heart somehow

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Agony Beyond power of speech When the one thing you want Is the only thing Out of your reach AGONY!

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Oh, I think you're holding The heart of mine Squeeze it apart That's fine Step On Me