#Forgive me because I am writing self indulgent stuff at night

[starsbook]

Things that changed

!! SPOILERS FOR ASRA ROUTE !!

A.N. : Inspired by @/vesuviaweekly 's weekly prompt 'Things that changed'. As I said in 'Nightmares and Daydreams' , I am revisiting this prompt. Again can be kind of ooc for Asra and heavy on headcanons. (Some stuff is canon for me but then I look it up it is in fact NOT canon😭😭😭) . Oh the sufferings of loving a character so deeply that you divert them a bit from their original source <3. Then again as the saying goes 'to be loved is to be changed' . Anyways , this post too will involve a MC who has a similar origin story to my MC (riku) but still will be referred to as MC . MC will use they/them pronouns. I know this prompt is supposed to be a pre vs post plague scenarios but tweaking it a bit just for plot purposes <3.

C.W. : he/him pronouns for Asra ; very heavy on angst (because I am in an angsty mood 🥰) (I am sorry my love I promise to write something fluffy for you soon 😭) ; death mention ; spoilers for asra route (pretty much entirety of his route) ; characters may be ooc ; MC's aunt is mentioned (oc) ; may feel self indulgent at some points (may not) ; long post below the 'keep reading' button ; i just felt like yapping about my spouse and his history so I made this post 🥰 don't mind me ; FORGIVE ME ASRA 😩; English is not my first language so please be kind and make me aware of any mistakes you may find while reading this piece.

This post got out of control and now can be qualified as a chaptered fic 💀 aka LONG POST AHEAD.

"By clicking on 'keep reading' , you hereby confirm that you have read A.N. and C.W. as given above and therefore I (the creator of this post) will not be held accountable for your reading experience"

Change is the only constant . We all must have heard of this saying one way or another. Change is painful, sometimes manageable, most times not. Nobody wants change . We get used to situations and hope that the situation remains same . Hope that we don't have to change. Because we have gotten used to these circumstances and learned to live with them. But sometimes change is necessary. These changes can be seen in Asra's life as well. Did it change him? Let's see how changes happened in Asra's life and how it affected him.

Having a family vs Becoming an orphan :

• Asra has two very loving parents. He is loved in the Alnazar household. He knows what a family is and what it is like to be safe. He likes to spend his mornings getting magic trained from Salim. In the afternoons , his parents go for work in the palace and return late in the evenings. He doesn't mind that. He knows that by the end of the day he will be cuddled beside Aisha who will hold him oh so lovingly. He knows that whatever they do , they will ensure his safety. Afterall a child doesn't worry about his parents. It is the other way around... right?

• The first change occurred when one evening Asra's parents didn't return. The first few hours he did not notice any change. Maybe it was the calm before the storm . After an hour or so passed and Aisha and Salim didn't return at their usual time , Asra started to worry. "Where were they? Why aren't they home yet?" Said the little voice in Asra's head and made him worried. He didn't know what to do. He decided to go in his parents' room and wait the night out there. He waited and waited but his wait bore no fruit. He couldn't sleep that night. The next morning he decided to take matters in his own hands. He himself decided to go out and search for them. He searched his neighbourhood like crazy , he went to search in all familiar alleyways , he asked all familiar faces he could find , but none of this gave him a clue about the whereabouts of his parents. He only knew that they worked at the palace , so he decided to go there. He asked people around to reach the palace ,and finally that he did , he was told by the count that he executed his parents. The count executed his parents. The count executed his parents. His parents.

• Asra had two very loving parents. He was loved in the Alnazar household. He knew what a family was and what it was like to be safe. Asra hated change. He used to be safe and sound without a worry in the world just a few hours earlier. Now he was dangerously aware of the situation. He is just a kid! How is he supposed to live !? How is he supposed to survive?! What about his family?! Will he ever have one? Asra cried that day , he sobbed like a baby. He was just a baby! His parents' baby ! When he decided to return home , another bad news awaited him. The count confiscated his childhood home. He could not return. He was left in the streets of vesuvia all by himself. He had to live by himself now. He had to survive all alone. He had to , what other choice did he have?

Being alone vs Meeting new people :

• He is used to surviving on his own now. He has to be. It has been so long . The other vesuvian orphans were not always kind. You could even say that finding a friend in those orphans was a rare deal. These orphans used to survive by joining 'gangs'. Mafia of sorts , but not really that dangerous. They were dangerous for other orphans though. They were the bullies who used to boss around and dictate other non-member orphans lives. They used to bully other orphans into giving them their food. Asra was initially scared of them . But eventually when he found out that they can't use magic like he can , it was game on for him. Now the 'gangs' were scared of Asra. They avoided him as much as possible and used to scare away new orphans who could possibly become his friend by telling them stories of the great power he held aka throwing things at them without touching it. Asra was used to being alone now.

• The next change in Asra's life was a well needed change. He met Muriel. Or maybe it went a bit differently. He rescued Muriel , from the same gang of bullies mentioned earlier. How could he not ? They were making fun of Muriel and forcing him to do stuff ! Asra hardly tolerated when he came across such scenes. So of course he did what he knew best , magic! A bit of magic and every bully was left terrified. Even Muriel was a bit surprised but he soon recovered when Asra grabbed his hand and ran away with him. Away from the bullies. Soon as they interacted more Asra finds that Muriel is the reserved kind. But Muriel never left his side. Maybe it was gratitude or something entirely different but he appreciated his presence. He liked this change.

• Next change brought in his platonic soulmate in his life. While doing some magic tricks to earn some quick money to feed himself , he came across a wandering magician. He was so intrigued! And as it looked the magician was too by such talent of Asra at such a young age. He conversed with Asra and gifted him and egg. "An egg ?" Asra thought . The confusion must have shown on his face because the magician soon explained that it was gift and he should wait for it to hatch. So he did. It hatched on his birthday and came out as a beautiful purple ball python. He gained a new companion! Oh how happy he was. He named her Faust! Soon after he realized that his and Faust's connection was deeper than that of owner and pet. She was his familiar. Oh how they spent their time together, playing on the ships waiting on the docks. He would let her run away on the beach sand and chase her to catch. Muriel too got known by Faust and she started to trust him. Maybe not all changes are bad , Asra thinks.

• Asra was a teenager now. Him and Muriel have managed to secure a place in the woods. Asra had heard the townfolk talk about an upcoming masquerade ball being organized by the palace. As much as Asra absolutely despised the count , he did have an empty stomach to feed. So they (Muriel and Asra) decided to set up a stall in the bazaar. They both worked on preparing masks and other little trinkets to attract onlookers and sell those to them. On the day of the ball , when the newly wed countess first arrived in the city of vesuvia , a certain someone entered his stall to be safe from the gathering onlookers (the crowd watching the countess arrive). Little did Asra knew that this person is going to change his life forever and ever.

Friends or Something more... ? :

• Ever since that fateful meeting with MC in his stall , he had started to know them more. To the point that he was well acquainted with MC's aunt , the owner of the magic shop. MC's aunt was a kind lady. She would not hesitate to be welcoming and warm to Asra. Once she found out that Asra too was a magic user , she offered to train him. He liked it. He felt safe when he was around them. He remembered what it was like to be 'home'. They soon got pretty close to Asra. Asra gained another friend , another person to rely on. Maybe changes are good , he thought.

• Maybe it was the puberty kicking in or entirely something else but lately Asra has started to feel attracted towards MC. It started as small voices in the corner of his heart that he would dismiss initially , but soon it evolved and became harder to contain within himself. Asra was pretty close to MC and he surely didn't want to ruin their friendship. So he would run. Run away from them. Run away on 'trips'. The trips that didn't help with anything. It only made the attraction stronger. The want grew stronger and he started to crave to be in the shop. But he stopped himself. He really didn't want to lose a friend. He didn't want things to change. He was hesitant to change their relationship.

The Grief :

• He was not ready for the next change. Well, nobody was . MC's aunt died. It was hard for Asra but it was even harder for MC. He was their comfort in such tough times. He ,too, lost a person he could rely on blindly but right now getting MC adjusted was his top priority.

• Once MC was well adjusted and inherited the magic shop , he felt better too. Whatever decision they would make regarding the shop , he would accept it. They decided to continue running the shop and invited Asra to be their business partner. He accepted and together they started their magic business. It was all going well , everything was as it needed to be. But life doesn't stop at perfect moments , does it?

• The city of vesuvia experienced its deadliest plague. The plague that brought destruction. The plague that changed many lives. The plague that changed Asra's life. He tried to reason with MC , to convince them to go with him and seek refuge in a safer city far away from vesuvia . Far away from the clutches of plague. But MC wasn't the one to listen to reason. So they separated and decided to go their own ways. Asra left vesuvia and MC behind. This decision was a crucial one which changed a lot of things.

• When Asra returned and found out about MC's death , he was heartbroken and guilt stricken. If only he was more stubborn . If only he had managed to convince MC. If only he was true with his feelings . If only... he could have prevented this from happening! He could have saved them! He didn't know what to do or where to go. The shop felt emptier without MC around and lost its cozy feel. He didn't like it. Maybe not all changes are good.

Feelings of loneliness :

• Asra had decided to bring MC back. It was risky but he was ready to take this risk if it meant having MC back in the land of living. He had decided that he needs to control his life and not the other way around. He will change his life himself . He decided to work in the palace for their resources. Many warned him of dangers of working in the palace but he was never the one to listen to warnings about the count. He felt lonely, like there was no one he could trust . When initially he couldn't find a breakthrough to bring MC back, he felt hopeless. Like he was doing all this for nothing. He couldn't even ask anyone for help. All he could do was stay patient and hopeful and just try . Try to do what he was here for. Try to find a solution. He wanted things to change.

Taking care of a once independent individual :

• MC's resurrection caused them to have amnesia. The same way someone with a severe brain trauma would have. They had lost both their functional and emotional memories. When Asra realized this he felt guilty . Just how long do they have to suffer because of me? He thought. He then decided to keep his feelings aside and rehabilitate MC back to recovery. He tried a few times to get them to remember their past but when this caused more harm then good , he stopped. He was hurting inside seeing the love of his life suffer so much. Maybe he should just let them go. Afterall he will be more happy to see them happy then in pain. And so he did. He buried his feelings deep inside his heart (or what was left of it) and just focused on their recovery. Focused on reteaching them magic. Focused on reteaching them to live. But occasionally he could feel the love for them grow. So he resorted to his old habits , going away from them. Change is necessary, he would convince himself.

Returning faith (in people) :

• When MC was asked to investigate the case of the count and find Dr. Devorak for his punishment by the countess , Asra was initially hesitant. But it was not his decision to make. He supported them when MC said yes. What he didn't know was that this change of events was the one which he would thank for all eternity.

• As the investigation progressed , so did MC's recovery and that too in leaps. He was surprised to see this. His faith in people started to return too . Faith in the old baker , in the neighbour next door , in the palace guards , and the countess . He found himself gaining a part of him that he lost along with MC. As the events unfurled and MC gained most of their memories, a part in Asra healed. Maybe he had never forgiven himself for leaving them behind but now hearing it from their mouth he finally believed it.

• When he found his parents imprisoned in the magical realms , he was left speechless. He didn't know what to do or say. He didn't know what to feel. Till this day he had thought that he was an orphan but no! There were his parents standing in front of him! He thanked the Arcana for letting him see this day. He couldn't be more happier. He is getting used to changes in his life.

Maturity :

• As soon as the battle with the devil was won , Asra felt light. He felt as if a great burden has been lifted from his shoulders. The source of his lifelong sufferings , the cause of the pain to his loved ones , the devil , is now standing in front of him frozen in time. Almost like a stone statue. He could not believe that he managed to do this. That they managed to defeat the devil. They were stronger than ever. They had changed. Both of them did , in their own ways. For better and for worse.

• When he was on his way on to a new adventure with MC , his life long partner , he couldn't help but feel as if he was living in a dream. Everything was perfect now. Maybe it will not be the same tomorrow, maybe it will not be the same a few years from now , but one thing Asra had learned from his life is that things change , people change , situations change , and that's OK.

Before meeting MC vs After falling in love :

• Asra grew up loved up until his parents disappeared, after which he was left on the streets to survive. He felt alone for the first time. He was just a child when his world turned upside down. His life changed forever . Of course he was quick to gain new friends, but new people do not fully cover for the ones already lost. Soon he found a place he could call home. A place that felt like his home. A place with people welcoming enough to remind him of his family. He started to grow attached to them. It didn't matter how much he tried to brush these feelings off, the feelings resurfaced again. He was young when once again he lost people valuable to him. He didn't like this. So he refused to get used to this change.

• When he finally decided to act on his feelings and bring MC back , he didn't expect them to come back completely wiped off of their memories. But he was a changed person now. Instead of running away he decided to take care of them. Instead of letting his feelings overpower him and making things awkward, he decided to maintain distance from them. Instead of forcing them to remember their past, he accepted them as they were. Afterall, is that not what true family does? As time progressed and made everything what he could only imagine in his dreams - with MC acting on their love , his parents returning , and the devil defeated - he himself healed. He accepted everything as it was and as it would be. He decided to welcome each and every change from this point onwards without a fear. Afterall, isn't change the only constant ?

Can you guys tell that the last part (before meeting MC vs after falling in love) was what was originally planned. You can tell right? Right? 🥰← op thinks everyone knows how their brain works. Does anyone even read this part? The part where I roast myself? Idk , leave a leaf emoji if you do! Hopefully i haven't crossed the yapping limit 😩😩 If only I showed this much enthusiasm while writing school essays 😍 forgive me for such a long post. And can you guys please bully me into completing my Asra × Riku fic ? Please 🥰 /hj. I hope you enjoyed this!

Rebloggers and commenters are being offered biscuits with a warm cup of milk 🥰

© OHKENTO . do not copy, repost, modify, or translate my works in any platforms.

[balrogballs]

Esteeméd Balls of 'Rog: 2024 was my year of Thinking About Elrond. It ended with your beautiful (and beautify deranged) writing so it seems only right that I share with you that for me it started, of all things, with The Grateful Dead’s ‘Ripple’. Do you know it?

[And do please forgive the length of the rest of this message as I engage in the grand tradition of my tree hugging fish kissing pot smoking NorCal hippie people by have Far Too Much to say about the Dead *facepalm*]

Because I tell you, I heard it last spring, those opening lines, 'If my words did glow with gold of sunshine / And my tunes were played on the harp unstrung / Would you hear my voice come through the music / Would you hold it near as it were your own?' And I could think of nothing but Elrond reaching out through song to Maglor, not knowing where he could be found or if he even lived, reaching out to everyone he’d ever lost, writing a song that some might call self-indulgent noodling except that you can’t help but sing it yourself once you know it, a song meant to be passed along, to radiate out into the world, to find whoever needs to hear it.

And then we have 'It’s a hand me down, the thoughts are broken / Perhaps they’re better left unsaid / I don’t know, don’t really care / Let there be songs to fill the air' Oh, think the elves of Rivendell singing silly songs as the shadow returns, as the time of the elves fades away, think how even then songs will forever fill the air. And where better than the Last Homely House with its lord as kind of summer to wish that you 'Reach out your hand if your cup be empty / If your cup is full may it be again' and can you tell me of a better way to preserve our spirits in the face of inevitable darkness except by doing exactly that?

And then we come to you 'There is a road, no simple highway / Between the dawn and the dark of night / If you should go, no one may follow / That path is for your steps alone' Well that’s at the heart of the Gift of Men isn’t it, the winding way from birth to death and no knowing where you’ll end up when you set out on that road. Imagine a child (imagine a pair of twins) asking their ageless guardians what lies on the path of Men. Did Maedhros say something like that to Elros, wondering what fate held for those two half-elven children? Did Elrond, trying so hard not to cling too tightly even as his heart broke once again, say so to his children?

And oh, when did the words 'You who choose to lead must follow / But if you fall you fall alone' first come to him? Sure sums up an awful lot of Elven lordship. How often has Elrond turned over those two lines? How much has it shaped his approach to leadership even as he refused the crown?

And then we end on that hopeless loving wish for returning to a place that may not even exist, 'If I knew the way I would take you home' I wonder if real kindness isn’t at its heart the desire to offer a home to all those you love, all those who live, even though (because) you have no idea where to find a true home of your own anymore.

But that’s not really the end, no we still have the chorus in growing harmony singing 'La-da-da-dah, la-dah-da-da-da' a tune anyone can join, well tra-la-la-lally come back to the valley…

May the coming year be good to you. Thank you for your writing <3

This is great stuff and has managed to add more than one song to my Elrond playlist, so congratulations in multiple ways!

I am very glad you enjoyed my freaky writing and I am also obsessed with these, I love when people straight up write fic with song lyrics because frankly same (my Russingon number one song is a Sufi devotional 😇)

happy Thinking About Elrond year and wish us all many more of these ✨

[0nelittlebirdtoldme]

Writer asks

Got tagged by @bluecatwriter. With another year of writing slowly coming to an end, why not look over some of my stuff? Thanks for the tag!

1. How many works do you have on AO3?

143 works, however 2 or 3 of them are just some of my crossposted fanart.

2. What's your total ao3 word count? 428,434. Wanted to get to 500k this year, but i suppose i am not quite there yet.

3. What fandoms do you write for?

Still just Dracula/Dracula 2020. Some IWTV, some Fight Club. 2 for Empire of the Vampire which i have neither finished reading, nor is there a proper fandom for.

4. What are your top five fics by kudos?

Death's Sunrise (of course, the only fic to gain over 1k kudos). 1,071 as of now

3 Sandman fics i don't care for anymore so i am not gonna name them (if you are curious, just look them up yourself, you know where to find them)

The Gathered Night 

Touch as Soft as Ice (Harkula Tumblr Prompts) (the tumblr prompt collection which i kind of have disbanded by now - i just post the prompt fics by themselves these days)

Ladybugs Don't Fly at Night 

5. Do you respond to comments? Why or why not?

I try to, but sometimes i just lack the energy. I do get a lot of comments, in all fairness, but even if i don't reply right away, i just want you to know that i do read and appreciate them all! <3

6. What's the fic you wrote that has the angstiest ending?

The majority is really angsty. If I had to guess, either DS or Completed - a quadruple drabble in which Dracula, in his delusion, is holding onto Jonathan's very dead corpse, somehow still waiting for him to come back to (un)life.

7. What's the fic you wrote that has the happiest ending?

Either something from Castles in the Air, my softer drabble collection, or something like Keeping Family - a very self indulgent murder husbands + accidental baby acquisition fic.

8. Do you get hate on fics?

By god, the things i find in my inbox some days are really something. (Side bar: just because a writer writes specific themes and topic it doesn't make it alright to send them death and grape threats christ on a cracker)

9. Do you write smut? If so, what kind?

Oh yes. My smut always flirts with the idea of consent and power dynamics. I think it's in general on the more intense side, although i do have some softer, slower works. A personal favorite of mine are the really sweet and sloppy ones - consensual somno and the like.

10. Do you write crossovers?

TGN, my beloved. My Dracula x IWTV crossover. Not really related to either Dracula or Interview with the Vampire, but i just wanted to put my 4 vamps (Jonathan, Drac, Louis and Lestat) like mentos into a carbonated soda bottle and shake them around real good, just to see what happens.

11. Have you ever had a fic stolen?

Er. Yes. Was a whole deal. Sorted it out. Kinda. Hope it doesn't happen any longer.

12. Have you ever had a fic translated?

Not officially (see no. 11)

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

No, but I would be down for it! I do some beta reading for KINGBeerZ on ao3, both for his Dracula fics as well as currently an original work, which is fun and interesting, but i could totally see myself actually co-writing a fic with someone else if we had the same vision for the story.

14. What's your all-time favorite ship?

Forgive me, but yes, it is Harkula. Sorry not sorry. I like them messy, i like them problematic, and i am aware of it. Also i just like to see Jonathan properly dishevelled and out of breath.

15. What's a wip you want to finish, but don't think you ever will?

There has been one fic i pulled and have not looked at since. It was giving me trouble the second i posted it, made me have a mental break down and freak out. Didn't get much feedback on it the weeks after so i decided it wasn't worth the trouble. Probably wouldn't do it that way these days, but eh.

16. What are your writing strengths?

I feel like i am quite good with dialogue, quick snappy banter and teasing and the like. Maybe also the way i describe pain, body horror, etc.?

17. What are your writing weaknesses?

Grammar. I swear. As a non native speaker, it is always grammar for me.

18. Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language for a fic?

I either translate it right away, put it in italics, or leave it as it. Totally depends on what effect i want to achieve.

19. First fandom you wrote for?

With great shame i have to say that i started out on Wattpad. 15 year old me has discovered BBC's Sherlock and was unstoppable (well, at least until i switched to ao3 and nuked the wattpad account). On ao3 my first fic was DS, and the fandom Dracula (2020)

20. Favorite fic you've written?

Hard to say. I still love DS despite the typos and messy plot, and am currently obsessed with TGN. But there are so many others i am quite proud of.

Leaving a tag for @argyleheir as well as @chthonic-cassandra and anyone else who feels like it, but absolutely no pressure!

[zorosdimples]

kae hiii dearest ˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ how are you doing today, gorgeous? <3 i am stopping by to bring you some tea and cake -> ☕ 🍰 and wishing you most wonderful time of day/night ૮꒰ྀི⊃´ ꒳ `⊂ྀི꒱ა

i am also dropping some qs for you because i am a nosy bunny :3 are there any non-sexual things zoro does that turn you on? and are there any relationship rituals you guys have that make you feel the most loved? <3

angie my angel please forgive me for taking so long to sample your delicious treats and to answer this ask!!!! i usually have knee jerk responses to questions, but when it comes to self ship questions, i tend to overthink and second guess myself :-) anyway, let’s get to the good stuff!

zoro can so much as breathe in my direction and i’ll melt into a puddle of desire. watching him train is a huge turn on, but i feel like that’s almost a cop-out, because big, sweaty, shirtless man? of course that’s hot! he tends to manhandle me with no warning; he’ll just pick me up and set me down or carry me around like i weigh nothing. being treated like a doll should irritate me, but i’d be lying if i said it didn’t rile me up. he’s not thinking of anything devious—he just says that i’m clumsy or slow or i was in someone’s way so he took it upon himself to move me. yeaaahhhhh. of course he does the yawn-and-stretch-to-reveal-v-line move and the protective-hand-on-small-of-back maneuver. but i’m an acts of service lover, and i think i get unnecessarily hot and bothered when he does simple tasks for me like make me a snack or pick some flowers or do the laundry. he’s not naturally great at domestic chores, but he’s a quick learner and self-sufficient. so once he learns and puts his skills to action? i’m putty in his hands.

as for relationship rituals: we both value quality time! we’re the couple that can simply be with one another, doing different things, but still feel connected and fulfilled. when he trains, i usually join him with a book or some writing if i don’t feel like being his personal trainee. one of our favorite past times is napping. we’re both big nappers; sometimes we intentionally set aside time to snooze together. other times we just chill and talk and get sleepy and whoops it’s nap time! eating meals together is of course important, but one of our favorite acts of intimacy is bathing together. and i’m not talking about anything sexual—it’s the undivided attention, skin-to-skin contact, act of caring for one another that’s so special. just being together makes us both feel loved.

okay this has gone on for far too long. thank you for indulging me, angie!!!! sending you all the love and hugs and kisses <3

[amywritesthings]

I love your writing! <3 The way you describe things makes everything so much more real, emotional and natural? Lol I think that's how you describe it. Also the way you stay true to the characters >>>

How did you get so good btw? I know practice makes perfect but sometimes it's really discouraging (for me), because I'm not a native english speaker and whenever I write stuff of my own it's sometimes just... Too hard? Like the progress I make is very slow and it makes me wanna give up on it. I love writing however so I would love to know any tips or such..

Anyway, any future plans for new fanfics? Like any interesting concept for another one, and if so what it is and from which fandom, If you can tell. :)

I've had this anon sitting in my inbox for a few days now because every time I open to answer it I get emotional that someone was so encouraging and kind enough to write all of this DKFJDKF First of all, the fact that you are multilingual is incredible. I am a native English speaker, and there is no way in hell I could write anything coherent in what little Spanish I know.

Secondly, I went to school for film (screenwriting, to be exact!) so I have a two degrees in writing. I think my tone reflects that, because I am a very dialogue heavy / short paragraph person as that is how scripts are typically written. (3 lines or bust!) Basically my only major hobby is writing, lol. All I want to do day and night is write! I used to do a ton of roleplaying on various websites through my teen years, so getting to witness other people's writing styles influenced my own.

Reading fic, writing with others, and ultimately having the courage to write and post my own fic was kind of my pipeline. Do not EVER give up on it. Doesn't matter if you're lightning fast or very slow. Every single person has their own writing style, and that's what I find beautiful about writing as a whole.

I think my best advice I can give is write the scenes you are inspired to write first, then you can flesh out the beginning and end (or middle, if you know how something starts and ends). I outline when inspiration comes to me: it's very chaotic, but I understand my own notes. I also read ALL of my fics out loud before I post! I act it out with myself. If something sounds corny, or robotic, or does not flow - I rework to make it sound more conversational.

As for other ideas: I definitely want to dip my toes in more Attack on Titan fanfics, especially when it comes to Armin. I don't feel like Armin gets a lot of good representation, so I'd love to write modern!Armin or go through his journey in AOT S1-4 with a reader insert. I have some ideas already written out for that just for self-indulgence because I truly am on the Arlert train and think more people need to appreciate him.

Also, I would love to write a Geto Suguru fic, as well as a Gojo Satoru fic, from Jujutsu Kaisen. I've mentioned before that I'd love to explore a throuple fic with Geto & Gojo as well. I already have an original character who has a technique I've worked on for the last two months, but I need to figure out tropes (because I don't know how forgiving the JJK community is in regards to curse usage and fights. Gege makes it up as he goes, and I want to, too. lol.)

Lastly I do want to eventually finish my Mandalorian fic, Point A to Point B. The google doc is just sitting there with my old notes, and now that everyone's mostly just chosen to ignore season 3, I feel like i can just do my own canon and rewrite history. :)

SORRY FOR THE VERY VERY LONG MESSAGE, but thank you again for this wonderful ask. By all means, send as many as you'd like if you have writing questions, fic questions, etc.!

[poptimus-prime]

I managed to spit out a thing about baby pictures and parents embarrassing their kids a bit.

“You’re expecting me to believe that grew into Stormy? I sincerely doubt that.” Ratchet scoffed as he stared hard at the yellowed photo being held to his face. He could recognize Liv, even if she was in a somewhat ridiculous Halloween costume. What he couldn’t recognize, however, was the little pink blob in her arms with the crocheted black beanie with cat ears. Olivia insisted that was Stormy when they were about a month old.

He pressed x to doubt. This was just his luck when the kids were out with Optimus, that the human adults would try to prank him.

 “Well, yeah. Humans start out this tiny.”

“You’re calling Stormy ‘tiny’? They were, like, 10 pounds when they were born, unless there is a typo on their birth certificate!” June was incredulous from the couch. “Now Jack, Jack was tiny. Scary tiny, honestly.”

“Yeah…he practically fit in your hand in the pictures.” Liv agreed.

“He is almost six feet tall!” Ratchet snipped a bit.

“Yes, but he was about 10 inches when he was born.” June pulled out her phone, humming a bit as she scrolled through. Eventually, she found what she was looking for and held it to Ratchet’s face. It was a digitized file of a physical photo, slightly yellowed like Liv’s. It was of June, sitting next to a clear box that had another pinkish lump with a blue beanie in it. She was smiling in the picture, but her brow was also furrowed in concern.

“What is that thing in that box?” Ratchet asked, again incredulous by the assertion that these blobs grew into the young people who run around his silo every day and drive him bonkers.

“That was Jack…he was 2 days old in that.” June hummed a bit. “He was born a little too early.”

“That happens?” 

“Does it not happen to Cybertronians?” Liv piped up.

“Not that I am…aware of?” Ratchet actually had to pause to think. Did a Cybertronian ever come out of the Allspark too early? He supposed that maybe they did towards the end of the war, but they didn’t need to be placed in a box.

“Oh. It’s really common in humans.” June shrugged. “Guess Jack couldn’t wait to see the world.”

“I had the opposite problem. Stormy didn’t want to come out.”

“Ah, the ‘five more minutes’ curse is from birth.” June joked, snickering behind her hand.

“It’s not as bad as Jack insisting that 4 AM was a reasonable time to get up.” Liv shot back playfully, starting to laugh. “Stumbling into our room in his little dinosaur footies like ‘Mommy, Miss Olivia, can I have pancakes?���”

June started sputtering in an attempt not to laugh, but all attempts failed as she buckled over. Ratchet thought for a second before his own little laugh escaped his vents, drawing attention to him.

“That sounds a bit like how Bumblebee was when he was young. He never slept more than a few hours and always demanded more Energon.”

“Oh em gee, can you please show us baby Bumblebee?” Liv’s eyes lit up as she quickly leaned in. 

“Um…I suppose…” Ratchet looked away, flustered as he looked through files. 

“You don’t have to.” June added.

“Nono, I may as well…since we’re all sharing youngling pictures today…aha. There he is.” He pulled up the picture and stepped to the side so the humans could see the monitor. It was a picture of a Bee alright–he was a little rounder and softer looking, but still definitely Bee. He was gripping an Energon cube while looking grumpy, and the cube was almost as big as he was.

And then it clicked.

“That’s why you don’t understand how human babies work. OK. That makes sense.” Liv flicked her own head in realization.

“What do you mean?” Ratchet quirked an eyebrow. 

“Humans change their appearance a lot when they grow. Bee…be just looks shorter and a little…chubby, I guess? Don’t have a better word.” She was gesturing an egg shape as she spoke.

“It’s really cute how his little grumpy face looks the same though.” June was giggling at the pouty baby face.

“I suppose it is, though now he knows how to transform.” Ratchet snorted lightheartedly. “He’s gotten some bite to his bark.”

“Fuck’s sake, Ratchet, are those my sparkling pictures?!” Bee’s beeping came from across the silo. He did not sound happy, even without the context of understanding what he said.

“Primus help me.” Ratchet muttered to the humans, who just backed away slowly.

[corruptedconfessions]

I am sliding in to request some yandere incubus Kirishima 👀. Maybe dubcon with a bit of a resistant darling who he coaxes and persuades into fucking him. Maybe uses incubus powers to have her be more willing and overstimulates her like crazy. Go as wild as you want, I don’t mind 👀

A full month and 5.3k words later...it is finished.  From now on if anyone wants an example of my writing at its best (and most selfishly self indulgent) I shall send them this fic. 

Warnings for this one: Dub con, drugging (kinda? magical drugging), some violence/blood mention, Delusional Yan Kiri at its finest. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The house was still as he hovered outside of your window, peering inside carefully. You were normally asleep by this time…The redhead practically vibrated with excitement as he slipped his claws under your window, slowly pushing it up. He had broken the lock several months ago when he had first caught your scent, peering through your window and finding you in the midst of a wet dream, desperately rubbing your thighs together in your sleep as you gasped. You were just so tempting he couldn’t help himself from slipping inside and eating you up~

You had been so beautiful that night, arched out under the moonlight gasping and twitching around him. Every meal before you suddenly felt so lacking. He may have gotten a little…over excited and watched with guilt as you struggled to get through the next day, completely exhausted after how much he had fed off of you. Even despite the guilt he felt, he couldn’t help but feel a deep yearning towards you, the desire to take even more.

He had never felt the urge to eat the same meal twice before you. Yet he found himself returning to you night after night, every time hunger pains shot through him, whenever he felt his own magic and energy starting to fade yours was the first face that popped into his mind. He had tried to go to other food sources but they always felt…lacking. Bland and unseasoned, their noises and fluids did nothing to excite him the way yours did. He was left full and energized, fed to the brim after desperately taking and feeding on his new virgin meals, but it always left him antsy and unsatisfied, haunted by the memory of your scent, your taste, just you.

It had gotten to the point where he was…touching himself. Masturbating! At the thought of you! The shame was so deep he had wanted to rip off his wings and tail, ashamed that a high class Incubus like him would become so desperate over some random little human that he would lower himself to self pleasure was…horrifying to say the least.

He took a deep shuddering breath just at the memory of those dark times as he glided further into your room, letting your scent surround him as he purred softly. Your scent already had the stress from those memories melting away, leaving him feeling fuzzy and relaxed, as it should! His mate should calm him~

Mate…just the thought of the word had him warm and giddy inside. It had taken him weeks to realize what all the feelings he had meant, you smelling and tasting so good, he was left unable to feed properly. He almost felt ashamed that he had made you wait so long before he realized! Oh, he hoped you would forgive him! What was he thinking, of course, you would! The two of you were destined for each other of course!

Oh, it was so exciting! You would be only his to hold, his to touch! Your small, fragile mortal body would curl up against his, warm and soft against him, arching and nuzzling into his touches like a good little girl~ He would sweep you up into his arms, being praised as your manly hero as he takes you away from your pathetic human world! No one would be able to stop him or deny him of his claim.

He would kill them if they tried.

His hand was trembling slightly with excitement as he reached out towards your bed, pulling your blankets aside as he crawled into the bed, inhaling deeply as he let your scent wrap around him.

Oh…He was so giddy thinking of all the things he could do with you now! He had always dreamed of having his own little mate to call his~ Someone made to please him, to love him, to be with him. Every inch of you from your head all the way down to the tips of your toes was built to be perfect for him~ Would you feel the same about him? Already he ached for you, ached for your touch, as many Incubi did when they found their mates, but you were human. Still, he liked to think that you were just as drawn to him as he was to you.

He could already picture it, you looking up at him, teary eyed and sleepy, begging for him to crawl into your bed, wrap you up in his arms and wings and hold you so you could sleep. You would beg for him so prettily, whimpering that you can’t sleep without him. He would wrap you up tight in his arms, carry you to the bed and ravish you until you couldn’t stay awake anymore~ He gasped softly nuzzling your pillow, breathing in hard as he purred softly. How would he do it?

Maybe he’d bury himself between your thighs, lapping and sucking at your dripping cunt, drinking your juices and working you through orgasm after orgasm until you have no choice but to pass out from the pleasure. Or maybe he’d stuff you full of his cock, rocking slowly up into you, drinking up every noise of pleasure as he makes love to you; tenderly bringing you to completion as you stayed limp and submissive under him, falling asleep while still rolling in the pleasure he gave you.

You would be so good for him wouldn’t you? Let him take you over and over, let him please you and bring you to the heights of pleasure. You would never touch another ever again…too desperate and needy for him, so perfect for…

He moaned low and deep, his hand dragging over his dick that was straining hard against his loose fitting pants. Every nerve in his body felt on edge, even just the brushing of fabric against his skin sending shockwaves of pleasure through his entire body. Fuck…He needed you so bad.

He couldn’t stop the small unmanly whimper that came from him as he tugged his pants down just enough for his member to pop out, the cold air hitting it leaving him shuttering hard. His teeth ached, begging to sink into your sensitive skin, to claim you, mark you up as his. He had never felt like this felt so…desperate.

It was addicting.

You did this to him…made him feel. Something he had always chased, desperate for the escape from the apathy that came with his cursed existence, doomed to forever chase the hunger and high of feeding off the pleasure of those who could feel. Yet here you were giving it to him freely. It was so addicting, to have all these feelings, towards you!!

He could never go back to the way it was before. He wouldn’t let it go back. He would kill anyone who tried to take you away from him, who tried to take this away…

He groaned, his entire body trembling all the way down to the tip of his tail as he slowly wrapped his fist around his cock, pumping it in his clawed hand. He could already imagine stuffing you full, coating you inside and out with his cum, claiming you so good no one would ever even question who you belonged to.

Oh, he couldn’t wait any longer! He wanted so badly to be inside you, cock nestled between your walls, your cunt squeezing down around him as his mouth and hands dragged over your soft skin. Already he could picture his claiming mark painted on your skin…

Something was nagging at him, an itch deep in the back of his brain as he swiped his thumb over his cock, huffing your scent as he pressed his face deeper into your pillow. He was missing something but he was too drunk on your scent, too focused on the build to his release to pay attention to the alarm bells blaring in his brain.

At least until he heard the bedroom door creak open followed by a frightened shriek.

“What the hell are you doing in my house?!”

He panicked, flailing as he spun around and sat up at the same time, staring at you wide eyed. Fuck! He had gotten so caught up in his fantasy he hadn’t even realized you weren’t in the bed, which meant you clearly weren’t asleep.

“I-I um, oh man I didn’t mean for you to meet me like this…”

You stared at him in confusion, eyes slowly dragging down until they locked onto his member, hard and leaking against his stomach. Your face immediately flushed hot, a startled squeak coming from you. Despite his panic as he tumbled out of your bed, clawed feet hitting your floor with loud clicks that just seemed to frighten you even more. He couldn't help the curl of amusement that swirled in his gut over the fact that you had immediately averted your eyes. Humans were always such silly things, so shy about sex and bits. Incubi were much more…open. Something you were going to have to get used to since he had no plans on hiding his dick away from his mate. Hell, the only reason he wore pants is because he thought they looked hella manly and cool! Like those famous actors from human movies! But now that he had a mate, he couldn’t imagine having something stopping him from just immediately taking you whenever and wherever he wanted, even if it was only for a second.

“Don’t be mad! I know im a bit late but I promise I’ll make it up to you~”

He calmed himself, grinning at you as he held his arms out as if asking for a hug as he advanced on you. You found yourself stumbling back as you stared at him in horror. He looked like something straight out of a horror movie, skin dark and reddened like blood, blackened horns jutting out and twisting around his head grotesquely, with every move the skin stretched over them almost seemed to pulse slightly as his slitted eyes roamed your body with a shamelessly large grin. Disgust and fear curled in your stomach as jagged sharp teeth were revealed to you, tapering off into sharp points just like the claws that spurted from his hands and feet. You could see a tail sway behind him, brushing the bottoms of large stretched out wings that were already curling towards you, stretching out as you stumbled back.

What…was he? For the briefest of moments you had thought it was the man from your dreams, warm and handsome as he fucked you, stuffed you full and left you shaking and crying for more. Every night you dreamt of him you woke up feeling sore but sated, your entire body aching but feeling so warm, the flashes of red hair and a bright smile still behind your eyelids. Warm moans and sweet praises still echoing faintly in your ears. This…thing in front of you was far from him.

“Stay the fuck away from me!”

You spun around, grabbing the door frame as you tensed, trying to run. Run where though? To the phone? Out the door? Should you scream for help? Who would believe you if you told them this this…demon was in your house, jerking off in your bed?

You had just barely made it out the door, feet sliding across the wood floor and nearly tripping you up when he moved too. In a flash he was through the door, behind you, arms wrapping around your waist and lifting you off the floor. You hadn’t even seen him move from his spot standing next to your bed.

“Let go of me! You sick fuck! Pervert! Help!”

You screamed kicking and flailing in his arms as he easily held you up off the floor. You tried elbowing his head, biting, scratching, hitting him in any way you could with your back pressed tightly against his chest and strong arms restraining you by your waist. He just laughed brightly as you hit him, any strikes just bouncing off his hard skin as he turned around to walk you back to your room.

“Feisty! I like that!”   

Rage filled your chest when he laughed at your attempts to free yourself. He was left unaffected while you were left throbbing in pain, every hit feeling like you were trying to punch a boulder. It was hopeless attacking him, it was clear he was stronger than you. So you did the only thing you could think to do.

You grabbed onto the door frame as he walked through, clutching it hard enough it hurt, refusing to let go even when he tugged you lightly. The bright grin that had been plastered on his face faded slightly, and you took that victory and clung to it, clutching the door frame tighter.

”Come on, don’t be like that. I know you want to play hard to get but I don’t want to hurt you. Look, you’re hurting yourself. Let go.”

You clung tighter, ignoring the rough wood digging into your palms hard enough that you were sure you would have slivers and cuts when you did let go. You didn’t care.

“Hard to get?! I'm not playing anything! Let go of me!”

You twisted trying to kick him again, lips curling into a snarl as he sighed at you. He shifted you in his hold, one arm unwinding from your waist just to hook under your thighs as he stepped closer, holding you firmer against his chest.

“You’re just nervous~ Don’t worry, Im sure any mortal would be, you probably don’t understand it completely yet, do you?~ I’ll help you relax~”

Understand what? Did the man have some sort of delusional fantasy about you? Anxiety filled you as you squirmed in the new grip as best as you could, trying to shove him away without letting go of your deathgrip on your door. You opened your mouth to snap at him, argue even more, kick and scream, anything so he would let go of you when a sweet scent started pouring off of the beast. You were breathing hard, both from the yelling and fighting, you got a large lungful of the smell before you could even register it was there.

The effects were immediate. Your head spun hard, hard enough you had to squeeze your eyes closed to stop the way the room suddenly spun hard, your entire body instantly falling limp in his arms.

“There you go~ Much better…”

You forced your eyes open again once everything stopped spinning so hard, staring up at the demon holding you with wide confused eyes. What did he do to you? He had shifted you so he was cradling you bridal style, you reached up to push at his chest, to push him away. You tried at least, your movements were slow, your body feeling weak. You pressed your hands against his chest, but you couldn’t find the strength to shove at him, to resist the jolts of pleasure that shocked you when you touched him.

“Easy there~ You might rile me up even more.”

You felt your face grow hot as he grinned down at you, ripping your hands away from his chest through pure will alone. Your cheeks burned  even hotter when he chuckled down at you, sitting down on your bed and turning to settle you down in his lap.

You shook hard as he wound his tail around your waist, tugging you until you were in a position he liked, large hands pressing against your stomach and sliding down your thighs, exploring your body, your skin in a way that felt so familiar…like he had done it before. You felt painfully aware of how his chiseled chest felt pressed against your back, how in this position, with your legs spread wide to try and straddle his thick thighs you could feel his hard on brushing up against your panties. You could feel your tummy flip as your cunt twitched, clenching down on nothing with every brush against your clothed heat.

“Please don’t hurt me…”

You were panting hard, desperate panicked breaths just proving to intoxicate you further, the sweet scent pouring off of him twisting around your senses and filling your head up. Every breath you took drained more of your fight out of you, panic and fear slowly being replaced with something…warm. Something sweet. You couldn’t bring yourself to push him away or thrash and fight like you were before. You felt disconnected from your body, willing it to move but you couldn’t manage more than the weak twitches of your fingertips and toes. You wanted to jump, pull away, do anything. Shamefully you noticed you were getting wet, soaking through your panties as your entire body tingled, arousal coiling tight in your gut.

“Oh, no, no, sweetie~ I’d never hurt you…Well, not unless you wanted me to.”

He grinned down at you, sharp and dangerous, his jagged teeth glinting under the moonlight that poured in from the open window.

You were panting hard, every weak gasp for air just proving to drunken you even further as you breathed in his scent, unable to stop yourself from slumping against his body. You trembled mewling weakly as his claws trailed down your skin, even just the soft scrape of his claws against your skin sending jolts of pleasure straight to your throbbing cunt. You jolted against his chest when his fingers finally pressed flat against your abdomen, claws easily hooking under your panties, hand sliding in to cup your privates fully.

“Good girl~ So wet for me~”

You trembled in his arms, flushing bright red when his hand was quickly coated in your fluids, hyperaware of the feeling of it slowly dripping out of your throbbing sex. You were painfully focused on his touch as his middle finger dipped between your lips, rubbing at your clit and entrance all at once, smirking as you jolted hard, a loud startled moan bubbling from your chest before you could stop it. You shuttered in his arms, whimpering as you arched back against him as he kept moving, rubbing at you as a deep growl vibrated through his chest.

“That’s it~ Good girl~”

You gasped, keening softly as he pulled his hand out of your underwear, making sure to drag his finger across your clit the entire way. Immediately his hands hooked under your bare thighs, smearing your juices across your skin as he lifted you up. 

“Let's get you out of these~”

He purred as he maneuvered you, easily holding you up with one hand as he dipped one clawed finger under the band of your panties, easily shredding through the fabric and tossing it to the side. You gasped whimpering as cold air finally hit your heated flesh. God...it felt like you were burning up. You could feel wetness dripping out of you, coating your thighs and dripping down onto his cock. You wanted to feel shame, fear, but your thoughts were too fuzzy, too consumed by the overwhelming lust that filled your entire body. 

“Now you’re getting into it, such a good girl~ My good little mate...Fuck you’re so soaked for me~”

You shivered moaning softly at his deep voice in your ear as he picked you up yet again, moving you until you were face down on the bed, hips propped up so he could grind his swollen cock against your dripping cunt. You found yourself drooling into your mattress as you desperately tried to rock back against his cock with your limited mobility. Fuck...you just...needed. You whined high and loud, frustrated as he chuckled down at you, his claws brushing down your back, leaving goosebumps in their wake as he cooed down at you. 

“Be patient. I’ll give you what you need...”

The sweet smell got even stronger as he leaned over you, pressing his chest against your back, cock rubbing between his thighs as his hands moved up to cup your breasts. You found yourself melting into the touch, panting and mewling weakly as he rolled your nipples between his fingers, claws leaving shallow scratches across your skin. Even that felt good…

“Such a good mate! Look at you, so gorgeous...I could eat you forever, you know~”

He purred nipping at your ear as he drank up your sweet pleasured cries, rocking his hips between yours as he thrust blindly between your thighs. Low grunts and groans were panted out right in your ear as he rut against your pussy, blindly searching for your entrance. 

“Gonna fill you up so good...fill you full of my seed. Make you mine!”

He growled his cock bumping against your hole, nudging against it before sliding past. Growling again he slowly pulled back, keeping his hands around your stomach as he lined himself up before thrusting into you. Claws pricked at your stomach, drawing small beads of blood as he forced you to take him all the way to the base in one thrust. 

You cried out, trembling hard as you clamped down around his cock as he stuffed you full. Your brain was telling you it should hurt, you shouldn’t’ve been able to take him like that, but all you could think about was the waves of pleasure rolling through you as you moaned. It was like you were molded to his cock, made to take him, made to be filled like this. The overwhelming feeling of wholeness made your head spin as pleasure danced along your spine. 

“You feel so good around me, baby~ I knew you were made to take me like this...that very first time your pretty little cunt wrapped around my cock, I knew I loved you.”

He gushed eagerly, voice rough in your ear as he rambled between moans, rocking his hips inside of you. First time…? What did he mean by-

You didn’t have time to register that fully, let alone ask him. He pulled out, cock dragging against your walls as you twitched and clenched around him before immediately thrusting back in, leaving you arching back against his chest, crying out for him. 

“You’re so tight~ It’s like you never want to let me go~ You must love me a whole lot, don’t you, baby?”

He growled happily in your ear as he started a rough and brutal pace, hips slapping against yours, the force of each thrust hard enough you found yourself jolting forward, only held in place by the iron grip he had around your stomach. 

He fucked you like he was making a claim, the wet sounds of your pussy clenching around him with every thrust filling the room along with his grunts and growls and your desperate pleasured cries. All you could do was hold on, your hands balled into fists as you clung to the sheets below you as waves of pleasure rolled over you, unable to think of anything but Kirishima. Every breath you took was his scent, all you could feel was his cock thrusting deep inside of you, his chest pressed against yours, the way he was kissing and nipping at your jaw. 

You didn’t even realize he had never told you his name, the very one you were whimpering. 

“Look, baby~ I'm right here.” 

You could feel the toothy grin against the back of your neck as a large hand pressed against your stomach, pushing hard enough you could feel every single thrust all the more. You sobbed in pleasure torn between grabbing his hand and ripping it away from your stomach and pushing it harder against it. Anything to keep the pleasure dancing behind your eyes. 

You weren’t sure how long you stayed like that, long enough that your throat felt raw, that your neck and shoulders ached with the bruises and marks he had left behind. Your nipples felt rubbed raw and sensitive. Everything blurred together, you were left limp and submissive in the demon’s arms, as he fucked you, snarling into the back of your neck. Compliments and praises were still raining down on you but they rolled off of you before you could even begin to process them. All you could think about was that heat coiling in your belly, you wanted to cum so badly. You whimpered desperately clenching down around him as you bucked your hips backwards, trembling hard when he snarled, thrusting his hips back inside you hard enough you actually found yourself sliding forward. 

“Shit, I’m close, baby...Are you going to cum with me?”

His voice was warped, deep and gravely, sounding harsher, darker than before. It wasn’t a voice that any human could ever hope to have. Still you whined high in your throat, nodding desperately, anything! You just wanted to cum so bad! Every time you got close, teased with that release it danced away from you, denying you of it. Not this time.

You nearly sobbed in pleasure as he started thrusting harder, hips stuttering as his cock pulsed hard inside of you. It only took one...two...three thrusts before he was roaring, the sound loud enough it vibrated through your body, your ears ringing as he came. He kept thrusting as he spilled inside of you, cum spilling out your hole around his cock and flooding down your thighs. He kept thrusting hard inside of you until he grabbed your hips with both hands, yanking you back onto his cock as he thrust as deep as he could. You seized up, screaming as you came, vision whiting out as you spasmed around his cock, drool spilling down your chin as your eyes rolled back. Wave after wave flooded through you, leaving you shaking and sobbing through the pleasure, immediately falling limp like a marionette with its strings cut the second it started to fade. You could hear his and your heavy breaths filling the otherwise silent room, feel the cum dripping down your thighs and pooling around your knees. 

He waited until you both had caught your breaths, still shaking and sweaty against each other's bodies before he suddenly lunged down, teeth sinking into your shoulder. You screamed in agony as sharp fangs sunk into your skin, tearing through your flesh. The grip around you tightened as he held you still, slurping and lapping at the blood that flowed heavily from the wound.  

You dropped to the mattress the second he pulled away, hanging limply in his hold as he slowly set you down. It felt like your very life had been sucked out of you, leaving you weak and confused, unable to navigate the maze of your own mind through the fog of pleasure and lust and now pain that had filled it. Black crept around the edges of your vision as everything started to blur together. Your eyes felt so heavy...

“Hey...None of that now. Not yet.”

You whined low in your throat as he grabbed your hair, making your neck arch back as you blearily blinked up at him, your shoulder throbbed hard, protesting the new position as it pulsed in pain, blood oozing out of the wound slowly. Your vision was reduced to shadows and movements, watching as the blurry outline of the demon sank his fangs into his own thumb, pulling away darker. The same dark blur that covered his fangs dripped slowly down his hand. He slowly lowered it to your lips, thumb slipping into your mouth. You tried to cringe back as a heavy metallic taste filled your mouth, but the hand entangled in your hair prevented you from moving an inch. Instinctively you swallowed down the fluid that flooded your mouth, cringing even more as it coated your throat uncomfortably and filled your senses. You cried out pitifully around his thumb even as you suckled on it, wanting to squirm away but unable to find the energy to do so. 

“Shhh~ I know. You’re okay.”

His thumb slipped from your mouth, hand letting go of your hair, finally letting you fall limply to your mattress. Relief filled your body as you finally relaxed, aching from head to toe, faintly you could still feel your pussy throbbing with every beat of your heart. Your eyes slid closed, fully believing the hell that you had just been put through was over.

Of course you were wrong. 

It started small, a soft tingling in your back, slight warmth that you ignored due to the overwhelming heat of the demon still draped over you. You could still feel his gaze boring into you, waiting. You ignored him, pressing your face harder against the mattress below you, determined to either stay there until he left or you suffocated. 

At least until your back started burning. The subtle heat from before was gone, replaced with an inferno tearing apart your lower back, burning through your muscles and skin. Faintly you could hear agonized screaming somewhere far away, it took you a moment to realize that that was you screaming. You couldn’t focus on it, though, the pain leaving your mind floating as tears streamed down your face, chest heaving for air. 

And then...his voice cut through it all. Deep and rumbling through your ear it was like a soothing balm across the flames that were eating you alive. 

“Shh~ Just accept it, baby~ Don’t fight it. I know it hurts, just relax...It’ll be over soon~”

Your whimpers were muffled as he leaned back, claws dragging slowly across your lower back. You screamed again, agony shooting through you as he touched them, pain hitting your consciousness like a bus. You twisted in place as best you could, weakly trying to turn around to swat away at his touch, only to freeze at what you saw. 

The demon's face was twisted into a menacing grin, eyes practically glowing with delight as his claws dragged down your back, pain rocking you to your core. All you could see was a vague black shape on your back, similar to the one that covered the demon’s arm. Everything was too blurry to make out the details, pain and darkness made the edges of your vision fuzzy. 

“You’re finally all mine~”

His voice was soft, warm, filled with so much joy and happiness it didn’t fit him, it didn’t fit the situation you were in. Your ears were ringing, stomach clenching hard. You felt like you were going to throw up. The darkness that had been creeping along the edges of your vision started spreading. 

The last thing you saw was pointed sharp teeth grinning down at you, tracing over your mark with a dark possessive glint to his eye. 

You were finally all his. 

[tookishcombeferre]

Klaus Fanfic: “A Tether”

I wrote a self indulgent thing for the Klaus 2019 fandom. Klaus is a Christmas movie. I’m trying to be sensitive and not post too much Christmas stuff.

But, I really like this movie, and it was an Oscar nom. The art is phenomenal, and I really like the characters.

That being said, obvs you don’t have to read it.

This is sort of a self projection fic? I wrote about Alva reflecting on the Spanish Flu of 1918 in a teacher’s point of view because I am burnt the fuck out.

“I haven’t heard from Jimmy Krum in 2 weeks. I’m worried. He said in his last letter that his family wasn’t doing well. He was trying to help his son apply for some kind of boarding school program in the city that I recommended last year.” Alva ran a hand across her face as she spoke to herself pacing across the floor of the post office attic. “Although, I can’t remember if he said they might wait until he turned 11 next year or not to send him out.”

“And you probably won’t hear from him until I can safely get out there again. I won’t let you go out. You’ve only just recovered.” Jesper opened the hatch to the attic and stuck his head through. “Go rest.”

“Jesper you know I can’t. I’ve been cooped up for so ...” Alva bit back a cough. “And you’re one to talk!”

“Nice save. Really, you are so convincing. I’ve been fever and cough free for a week. You on the other hand ...” He sat next to her, pulled her close, and kissed her temple. “Need to stop worrying. Everyone is fine. You sent enough homework with me to them, before we all boarded up, for two years. I promise.”

Alva sighed, and she supposed he was right. But, it didn’t stop her worrying. Despite the phone being a relatively old invention, most families in Smeerensberg didn’t own one. She couldn’t call and check in on kids the way she’d like to. Sure, some of the more well to do families had a phone, and she made good use of theirs to call those she could call. Jesper had to remind her to slow down often, especially in those first months of the pandemic, when they were still debating boarding up.

The town eventually chose to shut down after Jesper could no longer deliver the mail. He’d only stopped his deliveries when his own children got sick. This had been in late October.

The kids had gotten the flu, somehow, despite all their precautions. Then, for Alva, it seemed that everything really was over. She and Jesper were up at all hours of the night comforting their children. Alva had never seen Jesper cry so hard as she did when he thought he was alone on the phone with his own father. Jesper’s father was lucky enough to be spared the worst of the illness, and he was in sound enough headspace to listen to his son’s terrified sobbing for nearly an hour before Alva finally stepped in. She had listened to him cry begging for the illness to take him instead of his children, and Alva simply cried with him. There wasn’t much else they could do besides try to nurse their children as best they could and cling to one another in desperation.

In about two weeks, the children had recovered enough that they felt safe sending them to live with Espen Krum. Epen’s son had just recovered from the illness and war wounds, and Espen was more than happy to take in two young children that would cheer his son up for sure. Alva remembered how the thought of the two kids living there for awhile made Jesper smile. They both recalled how Jesper mailed the love letters back and forth between young Broderick Krum, the first toy recipient, and Greta Ellingbow during his time in The Great War.

Alva couldn’t help but be thankful that they’d sent the children away before they had the opportunity to see their father in the worst throws of the illness. Alva knew the illness preyed on healthy people almost more than those who had reasons for complications. She shuddered at the images of Jesper’s thrashing as he cried for his father, for her, and for Klaus. He begged her forgiveness as he sat trapped in the memory of all those Christmas Eve’s ago. She stayed with him as he begged Klaus’ understanding, promised he’d changed, and pleaded with her to still love him despite it all. Gone was the loving goofiness of the man who tucked their children in with jokes about stamps and letters. In its place, her strong husband shook with terror, and his fears of abandonment were laid bare before her. It was two weeks of caring for Jesper, and reassuring their children, before Jesper finally recovered enough for her to be satisfied.

It was only then, when she felt certain of his recovery, that her body finally succumbed to the illness. She had little recollection of the two weeks she was tended to by her husband, but he’d assured her that she hadn’t said anything too damning, and on the whole, she was more compliant than when she was healthy. He’d called the children faithfully each night, and he remained by her side all the other moments of the day. He rested with her, and he kept her cool. She still remembered just days ago, in the very first days of December, when she finally woke up and saw his face.

His eyes had sparkled with tears as he looked at her and whispered, “I knew you could do it.”

“Alva? Yoo-hoo?” Jesper waved a hand in front of her face.

Alva blinked herself back to the present moment.

“Sorry. I was just thinking about Lydia and Willem. It’ll be good to have the kids back before the holiday.” Alva leaned into Jesper’s shoulder.

He hummed his agreement. “Yes. Oh! Speaking of which. I have a surprise.”

Jesper helped his wife to her feet and guided her down the ladder and into their living room.

“Surprise!” He placed his chin on her shoulder. “I decorated it while you were sleeping.”

Alva smiled. It was far simpler than most years. The four stockings were hanging on the fire place. The tree was wrapped in a small amount of garland and maybe half of their ornaments were put up. She noticed the cookie plate already waiting with two glasses set out for the annual appearance.

Alva turned and stared at Jesper. “I sometimes wish he was still here. I have so many questions.”

Jesper hummed and pulled her close.

“As do I,” he said in a soft voice.

The two of them stood and surveyed the scene in silence for a few moments. Jesper placed his hands on Alva’s shoulders when they tensed suddenly.

“What is it? If you’re worried about Lydia, I just got word from Espen Krum that she’s had no complications. And, Willem has slept through the night soundly without bothering anybody for the last week.” Jesper reassured. “They’re doing fine. Also, we still do have a phone. I’ll let you pick 3 people to call as a treat. It is St. Nick’s Day after all.”

She blinked at him before face planting into his chest.

“I feel so useless.” She sobbed into his chest.

“Now, why would you think that? You’ve done so much for me, for the kids, and for your students. All through October, you taught every damn day, and made all those stupid work packets to last them until we could go back safe. You gave them book lists. You told them to call you if they had phones and were stuck. You even answered most calls until our own kids got sick. Alva,” he lifted her chin and kissed her forehead. “What more can you do?”

“I-I ... I don’t know.” She sobbed as she fell further into his chest. “I don’t know. But, it’s so hard. I can’t let it go back to the way it was before when the kids here could barely speak and poor Jimmy Krum was 13 and couldn’t write his own name. I can’t let that happen. What if they forget everything?”

“It won’t. You know why?” He wrapped his arms around her waist and swayed her side to side. “Because, you’re the best damn teacher this place has ever seen. You took kids who could barely speak and taught them to be kind, to think for themselves, to report the misdeeds of their parents, and to stand up for themselves. So what, they forget how to write the letter “a?” Or so what, Heather’s daughter still mixes up 0 and 8 like her mom did on her return address most of the time she was a kid? Those are all things that can be retaught. But, you’ve got heart again, now. You’ll make it work.”

Alva felt a fresh wave of tears bring her to her knees. “I’m sorry. I don’t know what’s wrong with me. I just ... I want to stop worrying, but I can’t. I want it to be over, Jesper. I want it to be over. I’m so tired.”

“I know.” Jesper knelt next to her. “Do you want me to hold you or will that make it worse?”

“Hold me?” Alva reached out to him.

They sat there on the floor for a long time as Alva clung to Jesper and cried. Jesper just rubbed her back and told her it was going to be okay in the end, but he recognized that it sucked right now. He reminded her she had every right to be sad and stressed, and he let her cry. He told her that she’d carried the weight of their family and town for too long. She had laughed and said they both had, and they both cried. They cried because the house was empty of the two people they loved most apart from each other. They cried because they’d never had the chance to mourn the moment they each thought one almost lost the other.

For, they knew, they would fade into the dark abyss of depression without one acting as the rope to tether the other from being lost in the icy sea.

Eventually, they rose on creaking limbs to sit in their chairs by the window. The two of them cast long glances at the snow outside.

“Do you think he knows? Or will I have to tell him?” Jesper’s voice was quiet and somber, in ways it so rarely was. “I don’t want to tell him that I almost lost you.”

“I don’t know, Jesper. But, something tells me that, somehow, he knows.” Alva patted his hand.

He nodded. “I was thinking that next week I would send for the kids and reopen the post office. Mail for Klaus is likely pretty backed up.”

Alva hummed her acknowledgement. “I think that would be a wise idea. Thank you for waiting that long. I know it’s hard for you.”

“I just ... I’m nervous. But, not about being out there. I just ... I never want you out of my sight again.” He clasped her hand tightly. “I don’t want to lose you.”

“You won’t.” She kissed his cheek. “It takes a lot more than that to get rid of me.”

He laughed lightly despite everything. “Good thing I actually want you around then.”

He stood, and they held each other for a moment before sharing a chaste kiss.

The two of them walked to their room, and they nestled down together in each other’s embrace. Tomorrow would find them still snuggled together as the rays of dawn poked through the window.

*******************The End **************************

Some notes on my thoughts about the timeline of events leading up to this/other weird headcanons.

I kind of assumed the movie was set in late 1890ish (based on fashion and some of the tech people had - such as the type of boat, the lack of whaling, and the items on Father Johanssen’s desk - I thought I saw some kind of phone which would have put the film at at least 1876).

Also, women’s fraternities began forming in the late 1860s-1870s. Considering Alva is a graduate of a university of some sort, we can infer that she would have gone to school during a time in which it was at least somewhat more normal to see women being educated. My sorority was founded in 1870 and we’re one of the oldest.

I would assume Alva is about 23-25 during the film considering she probs would have graduated at like 20ish. I thought she said she’d been there for like 3 years or so. So, I kind of assumed she’d graduated in mid to late 1890s and took her job in 1895 (20) and 3 (23) years later wanted to head out.

I also head canon that Alva was a member of the Sami tribe and left on less than great terms to go to the city to be educated. This is why she took the job in Smeerensberg in the first place. The Sami are pretty isolated from the feud and don’t really seem to know about it (to our knowledge). So, it would make sense that she might want to come home and patch things up by teaching nearby. It would also help to explain why she speaks and is able to translate Sami.

The only thing that kills this theory is the lack of cars. I suppose, since, those were invented in 1886? But, cars didn’t fully replace horses until 1907. Also, I’m pretty sure Smeerensberg is exempt from the car rule anyway.

Based on my weird digging into accurate time frames for the movie, I assumed the first Christmas was around 1898. That being said this takes place approximately 20ish years after my thoughts on when the film took place. The fic is set during the height of the Spanish Flu of 1918.

Further timeline clarifications: Alva and Jesper dated for about 3 years. They were married in 1901 (26/29). They had their first child in 1905 (30/33), and they had their second in 1908 (32/35). Klaus died 1910 (34/37) (12 years after the first Christmas in 1898). The original children would be in their 20s-30s ish (I pegged most of them to be about 5 and the oldest at about 13). Therefore, some of the older ones have kids of their own. Jesper and Alva’s kids are 13 (Lydia) and 10(Willem). Alva is approx 43 and Jesper is 46.

[bereft-of-frogs]

2020 Fic Year in Review

I was tagged by @aurorawest ! I’d been planning on doing something similar eventually and I like the directed questions here, so it worked out well.

Total number of completed stories: 27

Total word count: (I’m terrible about keeping track of word counts so this is total posted word count, thank you ao3 statistics) 189,970

Fandoms written in: MCU, the very tiny fandom of the Netflix series Into the Night, and I got one very, very short Les Misérables fic done

Looking back, did you write more fic than you thought you would this year, less, or about what you’d expected? I guess about what I expected? Maybe a bit more, actually, I only ended up being about 40k short of my word count from last year, I didn’t think I’d actually get anywhere close. So that’s good!

What’s your own favorite story of the year? For the tiny airplane fandom, I really liked ‘we are the sleepers, we bite our tongues’. And I’m just going to keep saying ‘where is your sting’ for the MCU lol.

Even though also, I mean, ‘alone amidst the ruins’ is definitely the one I’m most proud of. I worked so hard on it. I just don’t revisit it as much because I spent so much time working on it, whereas I do occasionally reread ‘where is your sting’. XD

Did you take any writing risks this year? Hm. Striking out in a new, very different fandom was a bit of a risk. One that resulted in multiple nights looking up things like ‘how to fly a plane’. :) And also it was really the first time I started writing for a fandom that I had 0 other input other than canon. Before I start writing for a new fandom, I’ve usually read a whole lot of fic and gotten a sense of the audience and what else is out there. But...there was nothing else out there when I started writing. This was all me and it was a little intimidating, especially with some of the technical stuff.

Do you have any fanfic or profic goals for the new year? Several! 2021 New Year’s Writing Resolutions:

- Not have such a damned complex about writing. Look. I had a whole time this year, I think we all did, and I just want myself to chill tf out about this one thing. Just chill out a little bit, self. Chill.

- Write about more space ghosts. And by that I mean more episodic space adventure plus magic and/or ghosts (bonus points for ghosts) style fics. Sort of along the lines of some of my older whumptober prompts (like ‘1. stabbed’ ‘5. poisoned’ and ‘7. kidnapped’ from ‘pain and other human sensations’ or ‘hurts like ghosts’). I didn’t really do any this year, had a lot more short, angsty fics. The closest I think I got was the whumptober prompt ‘enemy to caretaker’ or maybe ‘withdrawal’. But I have some ideas and even though those fics are a lot of work because of worldbuilding stuff, I want to do that work because they’re really my favorite type of fics.

- Make progress on series. I’d really like to get my next fic in ‘the nine in the tree’ finished before the next Doctor Strange movie is released, and make some progress on the third fic in ‘the dead reign there alone’ considering it’s been like...a long time and I think if I make any progress on it, I’ll feel better.

- Write more second drafts. Oof. Like, this is the most obvious advice that I should have absorbed a lot time ago, but like...writing a second draft makes the writing better. I get that now. I probably won’t do full second drafts for everything, but yeah. More focus on editing/rewriting in the new year.

Most popular story of the year? ‘like a tear on a cheek’ got the most kudos, by quite a bit. I’m happy for it, it was really sappy and indulgent, and kind of a mouthpiece for my own thoughts about forgiveness and redemption. I think that probably struck a chord XD

Story of mine most under-appreciated by the universe, in my opinion: I logically know why this is the case, but tbh my two more extreme AUs I think were slightly underappreciated, if I do say so myself. I did my first actual all-human AU with ‘panic room’ in January, and then my ‘medieval-ish’ fantasy AU ‘a keen scourge through the wintry air’. Like, I get why these didn’t get as much attention as others I wrote this year, I still think they’re a little underappreciated. XD

Most fun story to write: Obviously, I found ‘where is your sting’ to be the most fun. ghosts in space!. It was pure Sakaar Trash Party with ghosts and overwrought dialogue, I had a lot of fun.

Most unintentionally telling story: in a chapter of ‘alone amidst the ruins’, I included a line about the WHO advising on the wearing of masks.

a line that I swear to God, I wrote last year. got to it during the rewrite and had to go lie down for a bit.

Biggest disappointment: Even if I knew I probably wasn’t going to get all the way through the whumptober prompts this year (2018 was a - somewhat scary in hindsight - lightning strike of dedication and inspiration. I don’t know how I did Fall 2018 and I’m not sure it will ever happen again), but I would have liked to finish the ones I had started. Coming up on the end of the year and I’ve left one multichapter fic hanging, and still haven’t finished the ‘possession’ one which should be easy to finish.

This is also more a regret than a disappointment but I do sort of now regret my choice to publish all the whumptober prompts separately. Urgh, I think I would just be happier if they were organized into collections by fandom, they just bury everything else and some of them are so short and I really, really wish I had stuck with my method of organizing them in one document. Errrrr, regret. Like there are definitely benefits to doing it this way, but...still. Wish I had done it the other way.

Biggest surprise: Honestly, getting any comments and kudos from the tiny airplane fandom was an absolutely delightful surprise. Thank you, anyone who kudosed any of those works <3

- - -

So, 2020. What the fuck was that, am I right? It honestly feels like another world already. Like I’ll remember doing something and be like...hm not sure that actually happened to me, sort of feels like that happened to someone else and I just watched. I know I’m supposed to tag people, but also #SocialAnxiety (even in fandom). but please please please if you are a fic writer and want to take a moment to reflect on your writing experience this year, consider this an open tag!!!

[desdemonafictional]

2020 Fanfic Year End Summary

Hey ho let’s go

Nev does these every year and I think they’re interesting, so for the first time I’m gonna give it a go too. I feel like this has been the longest fucking year--the Zine feels like it was two years ago and last January feels like it was ten years ago.

I’m gonna answer some questions and do a little reflection on the year 

This year I technically finished Icarus with 2k words of a 36k story, and after that I went on to produce 197k words not even COUNTING the stuff from GPAU which I do not know how to divide up for 2020. 

That’s 23 fics in one year, 8 of which were cowriting projects. This year has been, objectively, insane. By comparison, in 2019 I produced 17 fics and at the time I thought THAT was doing pretty impressive work. Now it’s not my best year by sheer number of titles--2018 was an oil boom while I was into JTHM and I actually put out 25 fics that year, some of which were short oneshots and some of which were two- or three-shots. But in terms of words? 2020 knocked them all out of the park. Which is absolutely something I owe to my amazing friends who let me ride around in their brains like the parasite I am.

In 2018 I started cowriting with Chokopopo, in 2019 I started cowriting with Neveralarch, and in 2020 I just did a fucking ton more of that with no looking back. It’s so incredibly motivating to have someone to show your progress to! And to have someone to hand the project over to when you’re stuck. If I hadn’t had Nev to bounce off of, most of this fic wouldn’t have been thought up at all, let alone finished. And don’t even get me started on GPAU! Choko and Zephyr and me have done such amazing things with “Welcome! Everything is fine”, and I can’t wait to be able to wrap that up and leave it for posterity.

I switched job positions around July of this year, and it’s changed the way I produce fic. Not sure if it’s good yet or not. I was never actually under a stay at home order this year because I work for a state agency, so to a degree I’ve missed out on the ways that quarantine affected other writers. I think I was fortunate?

Best Title 

Ahhh this is tough, I put a lot of effort into my titles this year--I promised myself in 2019 I was going to stop using song lyrics for fic titles because they make songs loop in my brain and it’s self inflicted torment, which is a promise I... mostly kept. “Dress Your Idol in Gold and Ashes” is the one I put most effort into probably, because I kept toying around with it trying to find something that was evocative of the right pagan imagery, and also the idea that got me started on the fic was a passage in a text book about the daily dressing of an idol statue in ancient Egypt.

“Broke My Last Glass Jaw” gets special mention because I named it after an essay that I wrote in undergrad for my African American Lit course, in which I broke down themes of the spoiled american dream via the lens of 90′s rap.

Worst Title

“Take one for the Team” is definitely my laziest title. It’s just super self indulgent kink fic, no character arc or anything, so I couldn’t find a good image or phrase to bring in for the title. Also I remember I really wanted to post it quickly, since it was a response to some art I was looking at, and I wanted the artist to see. I’m sure I could have done better with the title.

I did end up titling “Fear and Delight” after a song but I forgive myself because I literally only wrote the fic because the song existed first.

Best Summary

Some of these summaries I wrote and a some I did not, but of the ones that I wrote I think.... “ I'm All Full Up on Yesterdays, Don't Sing Me No More Blues” is the best one. It launches you directly into the action, while preserving the surprise reveal at the end of chapter 1. I actually wrote chapter one with this summary in mind, so it was baked in there from the start.

Jazz turned in his seat, cube at his lips, just in time to spot the white pursuit vehicle steaming and panting in the doorway. “Jazz of Staniz,” the enforcer shouted, “surrender the matrix and come quietly!”

Jazz knocked back his drink. “Well!” he said to the open-mouthed bartender, “time to split!”

Worst Summary

I mean, summaries are hard for everyone, right? That’s the thing we all universally struggle with, I think? I usually end up liking mine, and this year I was less afraid to just let a section of the story speak for itself. Anyway the worst one is “ Broke My Last Glass Jaw” by virtue of the fact that I had to come back months later and add another line because I wasn’t satisfied with how it was reaching audiences.

After the war, Impactor is at loose ends.

(They were friends once, weren't they? After all this time, Impactor wonders if Megatron hasn't managed to forget.)

I really wanted that one line to say it all, but honestly it requires a lot of trust in me as the author and most of the people who pass by the fic in the archive aren’t gonna know me from adam. The second line clarifies what kind of story it’s going to be in terms of tone and theme.

Best First Line

I’m pretty ambivalent about most of my first lines. Since Nev already pointed out the first line in “ Apotheosis”, I have to admit, it is pretty good. It gets off to a real jaunty start.

“Excuse me,” Starscream said, striding down the steps of the senate chambers with his cape flaring out behind him, “get your cowcatcher out of his face, you tin-plated amateur despot, he’s with me.”

I also like the audacity of a run on sentence that is the opening to “ Desecrate You”

Ratchet clicks the video because it was auto-recommended, and because First Aid is always dropping hopeful hints that he wants her to watch his show when he’s supposed to be grading papers, and because something about the title (“This is Definitely a Hoax! None of this is Real! Short Cut Footage Episode”) makes her wonder why the hell someone who runs a Ghost Hunting youtube channel would bill their own hard work as a hoax right out of the bag.

Worst First Line

Definitely the least interesting is from “Tantric Sex, and Other Mysteries of the Divine”. I guess it’s another fic where I was really eager to get to the meat of the fic, and so I just went back after I was done with the fic and wrote a paragraph of bare bones setting context so we could move on already.

It’s game night at Swerve’s, and Nightbeat is out in the thick of the crew for once, getting the lay of the land.

I have the same problem in a few fics, which probably arises from the fact that when I read a fic, I often skim the first paragraph or so to see if I really want to commit to the read. So I sometimes write like I’m expecting the audience to do that too. I probably need to work on that. Man, I even did it in Sexy Staycation.

Best Last Line

I like endings! I usually have a good gut instinct for where stories should end, and how to pace that, and what image I want to close the fic on. Often times I’ll be writing a story and feeling really lukewarm about it, and then the ending will come to me, and I’ll feel totally won over by it. That happened with my Suicide Squad fic years ago. So this is for the most part me picking the best of the things I already like. “Broke My Last Glass Jaw” has a good pithy one; I like how it isolates this moment as a moment of choice, and how it’s also ambiguous whether he will change because of this or whether he’s doomed to go back to his predetermined pattern.

And despite the unguarded door and the empty inviting streets beyond, where no one wants or expects anything of him but his feterless bitter trog onward into the next waiting prison cell, Impactor lays down, and Impactor does.

Special mention goes to “ The Sky Dark in its Eclipse : Orange Light Remix”, because the ending section is one of the big changes I brought to the remix, and I’m really happy with how it alters the shape of the narrative and also how it changes the focus of Rung’s arc. Most of the actual words in this fic were written by Choko in 2018, so this is like a collab in slow motion--I changed loadstone moments mostly, some of the framing, all of the backstory, and updated the setting for Cybertron. But the ending is all me.

On the morning of Intro to Psych finals, while Hot Rod hums and taps and scrolls back and forth through his test on the front row of the testing hall, Rung will sit behind his desk and brush the dust from the rotors of his fateful archetype, and start the long process of putting the pieces together once and for all.

Worst Last Line

Again, I like my endings, so this is really the worst of the best. The original ending line I wrote for “ All Our Urgent Restless Sighing” was:

Deadlock’s finials twitched. “...I am a reasonable amount of interested,” he said, “in this topic.”

And in the beta process, Nev came back in and added the line about Ratchet and cuddling, which was a big hit with the readers it seems like. So clearly I benefitted from some help there haha!

Looking back, did you write more or less than you thought you would this year?

you know what, I definitely wrote more than I thought I would. I didn’t see “Don’t Sing Me No More Blues” coming at all, and that was once a month for most of the year. I was hoping that I would be able to write a few things outside of Transformers, because I always worry that my long spans of hyperfixation are driving away my longtime readers... and I did manage to get one hxh thing written that was good, and one hxh thing started that is mediocre so far. So I guess I’ll call that good enough.

 What’s your favorite story this year? Not the most popular, just your favorite.

hmm I’m really proud of the Pharma chapter me and Choko put together for GPAU--the body horror, the tragedy, the lotus eater machine plot. But even though that felt like a whole ass story of its own, I guess it’s only a chapter at the end of the day. So my favorite story would be “Apotheosis”. It’s just SO much, and we had SO many things we wanted to do, and somehow we managed to do them ALL. Corpses! Children! God! It’s got everything! The only thing it doesn’t have is the idea that literally started us plotting out the fic. And that was “ritual public sex with Starscream and Rung”. Oh well. Maybe someday. Probably not.

Okay, Now your most popular story

Ha! I tend to view the success of a fic more based on its bookmark ratio than its hit count, but by the numbers, unsurprisingly, “ Don't Sing Me No More Blues” is my most popular fic of the year at a whopping 3k hits and 113 bookmarks. Well, it is jazz/prowl which means it has a built in audience of considerable size, and it also updated seven times this year which increases its net range, so no surprise. But I think people also just really vibed with it--it’s very much a product of the times we are living in, and I don’t think it could have been written in any year except for 2020. 

“Dress Your Idol” has 58 bookmarks, by the way. I’m extremely proud of that fic for having such a high bookmark to view ratio. I guess the people who did read it liked it a lot.

Story most underappreciated in its Time.

Okay nothing is as under-exposed as the stuff I produced in JTHM, so I’m definitely not complaining. It’s hard to think about leaving TF because TF is such an enthusiastic community. That said, “ Neggnog Cozy” did not get eyeballs. I’m not surprised, it’s short and it’s gen, and Thundercracker doesn’t have the built in audience of say Starscream. Still, I thought it was really funny and cute and I would have liked it if more people would have given it a chance.

Story that could have been better

Oh, “ Melusine Among the Tombs” for sure. I went into that with only the first chapter planned and immediately after realized that I had no idea where the fic was going and also I had lost my grip on canon characterization after a couple years going rusty in other fandoms. I plan to finish it eventually, but I need a better plan than “wing it???” first.

Sexiest Story

I wrote SO much weird kink this year. Like. Shout out to past me for writing some pretty spicy JTHM fic, but this year I really leaned into how weird you can plausibly get with an all robot all alien cast. 

“ The Sensual Machine” is the most unabashedly horny because it was written specifically for a weird kink themed zine that I was an editor on. “Desecrate You” is also quite horny but I almost exclusively wrote the frame device for that, so I don’t get sexy credit lmao. “Fear and Delight” was a big hit with all the hxh readers and I think it has an element of sexiness more so than pure horniness--its has a kind of glamour and style to it.

Most fun story

“Starscream's Sexy Staycation” is by far the most unabashedly comic and sexy and silly and low stakes. It has one of my favorite kinks, a beautiful stupid moment of Ratchet suffering, and Rung calling safeword which is something new and fresh and I want a lot more of it in the world.

Did any stories shift your perceptions of the characters?

“ Lacunae” was given to me as a yule gift prompt with the express intention of explaining who the fuck Carmilla’s mother was, and what the deal is with Carmilla as well. This would have forced me to reevaluate my understanding of the novel except for the TEENSY insignificant fact that I realized I had never finished reading Carmilla, somehow, and ended up reading it for the first time in December in preparation for yule. So uh. Hmm.

I think “ Don't Sing Me No More Blues” made me think about Prowl in a different way. I wasn’t really expecting him to be this hard-edged idealist when I started out on the fic. He was originally going to be much more like the autistic coded Prowl of “The Cop and the Cryptid,” one of my favorite fics ever. Also, I started writing the fic about a month before the riots and police protest kicked off in America this year, and it really caused me to zero in on how Prowl being part of a system like that affects his relationship to the world and other characters.

Hardest Story to Write

“ Elegy for Actaeon of the Hounds” took me a total of six months to write from start to finish. I don’t know why. Well, It’s partly because there are three involved sex scenes and sex scenes are actually very difficult and time consuming for me to write. It’s also partly because I kept wanting it to have a character arc, and I kept getting stumped on how to handle that. Beauty and the Beast plot lift? Have Rodimus be a rabbit? Eventually I settled on the version that kept the cast tightly cinched down around Megatron and Rung, and I’m happy with the result.

Easiest Story to Write

When we were writing “Apotheosis” it felt like we were on FIRE, we were so productive and we started three other projects between us while it was in motion. But “Take One For the Team” was absolutely the most fun to write, it basically wrote itself

Most Overdue Story

“Champagne in the Final Days of Rome” was based off a conversation I had with Nev pretty early on in our friendship--Discord says it was June 2019, so that’s uhhh ten months between discussion to actual writing? And it still didn’t turn out to be the fic we were originally outlining, haha.

Oh god you know what was really the most overdue? The last chapter of “Icarus; or, Look Who's Digging His Own Grave”. It was literally a year, January to January, between chapter 12 and 13. For a while I thought maybe I was just going to have to leave it there, without resolving the time loop problem at all.

Did you take writing risks this year? What did you learn from them?

Writing for the zine was a big risk. I remember Nev had to reassure me at least twice that what I was writing wasn’t too weird or off-topic or embarrassing to be part of the project. Now, of course, I’m very happy with it. But my god I was nervous to post something that was like.... straight up actually bimboification applied to one of the most popular toy characters of all time.

What I learned from this is that people love horny shit, are READY to take a chance on a weird fic when its in the right wrapping paper, and when in doubt you CAN sell people on a kink they’re not really into by making the kink actually a reflection of a character arc. Are you writing this down?

Do you have any goals for writing in the new year?

Finish GPAU!!!!!!

I’d like to FINALLY sit down and do some hard work on my original fiction. I’ve been kind of waiting for the tf hyperfixation to wane so I could move forward, and I think that process is in motion now. But who knows. If Rung shows up in the new comics I might get nerfed again.

Other than that I’d like to write at least one fanfic that isn’t TF, and I would like to get this really crunchy Rung/Pharma fic off the ground so I can make some people CRY

[williamismyhomeboy]

Interview from www.popmusicfan.com 2005

If you only choose one new band to listen to this year, don't let it be anyone other than The Academy Is. With a brand new debut CD out on Fueled by Ramen records and a tour with labelmates Fall Out Boy and Gym Class Heroes, this band is ready to show everyone that they take their music seriously -- but still have fun while doing it. We hung out with lead singer William Beckett on the April 14th stop of their tour and somehow braved the freezing Florida weather.

How's the tour going so far? William: Well, the tour has been pretty spectacular so far. This is our first tour having had the record out and it's been really overwhelming, the response from people and from the other bands as well. We're good friends with all the bands on tour, we didn't know Silverstein until like two days ago, but they're really cool guys. But yeah, it's been great, I miss Midtown... but there's always next time. If you had to choose three bands for the ultimate tour, either to go see or to play with, who would you choose and why? William: Fleetwood Mac because I love Fleetwood Mac, they're one of the great rock bands that did it in a pop way, in a really classy way, too. Led Zepplin.. to go see or to go play with? Jennifer: Either one. William: Oh, yeah, it'd be the same anyway. Pink Floyd, I wouldn't want Pink Floyd because it'd be bad to play with them, they're just too conceptionally profound. Their show is far too extravagant, we'd look like amateurs. Jennifer: Well, if you were just going to see them... William: Oh, yeah, so Pink Floyd. What are your pet peeves about the other guys in the band? William: I've never been asked this before, this is interesting. Yeah, there's a lot. It's a cool thing about being in the band, you never spend that much time with anyone ever. Even married couples don't spend that much time together and that's not even just one on one, that's seven or eight dudes sleeping on a bus. So yeah, we have our differences, just being different people, having different personalities. One day we'll be in a bad mood, one day we'll be in a good mood, one day someone will smell bad and we won't, you know... But for the most part, it's a really brotherly love/hate relationship like most brothers and sisters. For us, we're like a family, the way that we sort of stick it through, for the most part. If you found out you were adopted and you had two celebrities as your birth parents, who would you want them to be and why? William: Wow, I haven't been asked these questions before, this is really cool. If I found out I was adopted... do they have to be like during the same time? Jennifer: Nope, whoever. William: For a mom, I'd probably go with Audrey Hepburn and I'd probably go with... this is tough. I should pick someone like Abe Lincoln or someone crazy. Yeah, I'm gonna pick George Bush. Jennifer: Which one? William: GW, I'm gonna pick GW. Jennifer: Do you like Bush? William: I don't want to talk about it. But his kids seem to have a good time. [everyone laughs] Jennifer: True! William: Right? So there we are.

What's the most embarrassing CD you have in your collection? William: Well, I have a lot of guilty pleasures, stuff most people would think is like, 'What?' Like Rod Stewart and Prince, a lot of stuff that you guys probably don't like or listen to. But my first hip hop CD that I ever bought was Ginuwine so bad. Jennifer: That's not that bad, it could be worse! William: No way, that's so bad, that's so terribly bad. Jennifer: What about Sisqo or something? William: Well, that's... wait, is that you? Jennifer: No! [everyone laughs] Well, I do have his CD, but it's from like seventh grade! William: Yeah, Ginuwine... well, Sisqo's probably worse. But at any rate, I'm a big opera fan, too. That's not really an embarrassing thing, but yeah. Jennifer: Have you seen Phantom of the Opera? William: Yeah! Jennifer: Was it good? William: Uh, no. I've seen the actual opera before... Jennifer: I did, too! On Broadway? William: Yeah! And it's amazing, I was raised on the Andrew Lloyd Webber performance disc and then I saw the movie and it was cool, but they changed some lines and it was just really Hollywood. The singing wasn't great, all the actors actually sang so it was cool but they just didn't do it very well, I don't think. Who's the most famous person that you have in your cell phone? William: Probably, like... I don't like name dropping. Jennifer: You can do it, we'll forgive you. William: [laughs] I should make a joke... Pete Wentz, and that's a joke, but Pete's getting pretty famous. That I actually talk to? Jennifer: Um... yeah. Or do you have any random people in there that you just got from a friend or anything? William: Yeah, I have Jakob Dylan's number but I never use it. I have, I don't know, I don't really look for famous peoples' numbers but the most famous person I have is probably Lyor Cohen, you probably don't know who he is. He owns Warner Brothers and Electra and Atlantic. He's like a multi-billionaire and he's one of the coolest guys in the world. I've met a lot of label people before but yeah, he's probably the most admirable one. If you had to describe yourself in five words, which ones would you choose? William: Myself? I'm really bad with self description, I'm really good with self reflection and creation and song writing and things like that, but actually flat out 'this is who I am?' Honest, passionate, polite, moderately-conservative... hyphenated! And, uh, sexual. Jennifer: Oh, that's a good one! Just kidding. William: I'm actually kidding, that wouldn't be my top five. Jennifer: None of them? William: No! None of them wouldn't except for sexual. Kidding once again, there we are! There we are, just joking. So there's my four. What's the biggest purchase that you've made since getting signed and everything? William: Other than my laptop... uh, yeah, it's my new Mac G4, I don't know I feel like a nerd talking about it. But yeah, my new laptop, probably. I try to conserve, to save my money, I don't really like to spend it on a lot of things. What are one of your favorite lyrics from one of your songs? William: It's really hard because... I think you'd have to take each song for it's whole, the song in it's whole is the work, you know what I mean? But I guess in the bridge of "Down and Out," I don't know if you know which song that is, but that song is the closest to me personally. The bridge is really cool and really close to me and all of our friends, just because we name dropped all of our good friends who really helped us and who we wouldn't be here without, and a bunch of records that we were influenced by during the writing process. Like, uh, Johnny and Tony, if you know the lyrics, they started a small record label called LLR and we had our EP on there. I had a solo project in high school.. Jennifer: Wasn't that Remember Maine? William: Yeah! Wow! You did your homework. So that was sort of like the moment in my life where I was making the decision to do music versus going to school, and no one believed in me really except for me and Johnny and Tony. It was a little bit later on that Tony came into the picture but Johnny was and is my best friend and the reason why I'm here, so he helped us get our foot into the door and we've sort of had this success since then which surpassed what they did for us. But we kind of took them with us, like now Johnny is head of retail at Fueled by Ramen. We were like, 'Hey, Fueled by Ramen, this dude is awesome, pick him up!' And Tony is our tour manager, on tour with us, so it's great, it's awesome. That's pretty much the bridge. Jennifer: We were kind of talking about that last night, about how random all the names are and stuff? We were wondering about that. William: Well the song sort of starts with this story about domestic abuse and escaping and getting away from something that you're afraid of or harmed by, it's sort of really dark. But the whole essence of the song, we didn't want to just focus on that, we wanted to focus on the ups and downs of life and growing up. The second verse says a lot about that growth process and friends and coming to that realization that most of your friends in high school, you're going to have to say goodbye to relatively soon and that's something that's hard for everybody I think, to say goodbye to anyone, be it death or be it whatever someone chooses or ends up having have happen to them. But for us it's not about like finding a dark corner and hiding and blaming other people and getting angry and aggressive, it's about accepting darker times and sort of welcoming those things when they happen, you know, to better understand and appreciate the great things in your life and the people that love you. Are you okay? Jolene: Uh huh! William: You're just cold, aren't you? Do you want my jacket? Jolene: No, it's okay. William: Are you sure? Jolene: Yeah, I'm fine! William: So yeah, for us it was really fitting to make the song about more than just that instance, you know, to make it a little more well-rounded so that was just, yeah.

What's something that people would be surprised to learn about the band? William: Probably our seriousness and what we're trying to accomplish. We have a lot of fun, we do, we indulge but our main scope isn't to be a big band and get famous and get chicks, or to get drunk and do drugs and be like this icon. Like, no one will tell you that unless they're just straight up rockstars, but for us, we really want to help people and change the world in the smallest way or globally and that's really what our end of the road goal is. To transcend age, to transcend sex, to transcend race, to transcend languages. Bands like U2, bands like Pink Floyd and bands that I was talking about earlier, bands that shaped generations and shaped people. It's like, 'You're playing these indie tours, you're playing to these young kids, how are you supposed to change the world?' But for me, I see that as an opportunity also. I also want to appeal to older crowds, I want to appeal to people our age, or maybe people that are a little bit older, like twenty-six, twenty-seven years-old and I think that our record does and will once they hear it. But for the future, as we expand and grow and as our minds grow and as our musicianship and our scope and those things grow, we want to be one of those bands that can make a difference and can help people. We want to be that band that you saw when you were fourteen, like our parents loved the Beatles or whoever when they were fourteen years old and they still love them today, and they're like fifty or sixty years-old. That's the band that we're going to be, because we're going to be the band or the songwriters that stick with the generations. I think the way you do that is being fucking straight up honest and genuine and unselfish. If you write about things that are self-loathing and very trendy and very high school angst, those are the people you're going to appeal to and that's it. You know, your mom's not going to listen to a band that sings about slitting their own throat or hanging themselves or crappy metaphors that are in like, Goosebumps books, you know? I think being genuine and honest and smart and unselfish and really looking at the world in a different light... if you have a minute, I try to do this exercise every morning. I think about people's minds, in this example let's think about the musician or whoever that's on a label that's writing these lyrics, okay? I sort of think of their creative mind as a room and let's take one of these singers that sings about one of these things like self-loathing or slitting wrists or something. So they're in this room and it's totally dark, and they have this candle in front of them and it's creating this light that they can only see like three inches in front of their face. They can only relate to those three inches in front of them which is their own little isolation bubble where they can't relate to anything beyond that because they don't know it exists. So they're so wrapped in themselves, writing about how much life sucks and how much it's unfair and about how much they've been mistreated. Or also things that are very self-righteous, like, 'I'm the best, this is how you do it,' things like that. There are those people everywhere, they're in high schools, they're parenting children, they're on their death beds... they're everywhere, you know? These people, I think, especially these artists are too wrapped up in themselves to realize that there might be a wall behind them with a light switch and if you flip that switch there's this whole room around you that illuminates. And for me, that's the world around me, that's everything. That's this tree, that's you guys, that's my family back home, that's this show, these people that are here, the people that are staying at this hotel. It's how it's cold and you're cold and I'm sorry that you're cold, you know? It's the world around you. Every morning I try to wake up and turn on the light, I try to turn on my creative room light to make sure that I'm always viewing the world in the way. I think if more people did that, a lot of things could change for people in their own lives and in other people's lives. That's one of the main things that I'm trying to convey, especially in our newest stuff that we're writing for the next record, so yeah, that's sort of something that people probably don't know about me or us. Jennifer: You're awesome, I decided that. Just now. What's the strangest voicemail or answering message that you've ever received? William: Received? I've given a lot of crazy ones. Probably the strangest one I've ever received... man, it's on the spot, you got me again. I'm tongue tied. Ohhh yeah, this is awesome! [everyone laughs] There was a point when I got a lot of prank calls when people hated me and stuff, it was that stupid, like... Jennifer: Jealousy? William: Kind of, but it was before I had really any success, it was just myself going for what I believed in. Since I was doing something different and not going for a screamo band or something, so it was a big deal when I was playing an acoustic guitar and singing melodies, so it was like 'What the hell?' It was a big uproar. So I got like crazy ones like, 'You're a faggot, you should kill yourself,' stuff like that. Jennifer: That's so mean! Jolene: That's terrible! William: Yeah, but it's awesome, though. No, for real! It's so funny, I know for a fact that that person has grown up and has seen me live by example and that I went for my dream and it's totally paid off, and it's going to pay off in the future more fruitfully than ever. Instead of me feeling anger and being like, 'Fuck that guy, I hope he's burning in Hell' or whatever, I hope that he realized that the way that he was living and the fear that he had about being his own person, I hope that he turned that around, so yeah, it's kind of funny. Jennifer: What about one of the funny ones that you've left people? William: Oh, man, there were some nights that I just called people singing crazy songs that I totally made up at four in the morning, I don't even know, man. I can't really get into too much detail, there were some wild ones. I do voices, I'll be like, 'Hey, yo-a, it's Johnny from over at Auto Repairing, I got your car and it's looking sweet.' [everyone laughs] I have this British voice and this gay voice and some other shit and it's hilarious, I would leave people messages like that and not tell them who I am. What's the last movie that you saw? William: Last movie? Oh, man, that's bad, that's terrible. I had a journal that I write on the website and I actually just talked about this. I'm on this weird horror movie kick right now, and I'm into crappy old horror movies right now. Not even old, like eighties or nineties. I don't recommend them to anyone, it's like Pet Sematary and From Dusk Til Dawn. Well that's like a Quentin Tarantino movie so that's actually a good movie, but the last movie I actually watched was House of 1000 Corpses. [everyone laughs] Jennifer: Oh, God. Jolene: Did you like that? William: I think it's great! For two reasons, alright. One, it's not original by any stretch of the imagination as far as a horror film, it's like Texas Chainsaw Massacre meets something vile, you know. It's basically like Texas Chainsaw Massacre meets a strip club, that's what that movie is. But, BUT-- Jennifer: Oh, I want to hear the but, because I don't think there's any defending this movie. [everyone laughs] William: The way that the movie is edited and the way that the movie is shot, with the color contrast and the way that it looks is just fucking phenomenal. I think the movie is so cool purely because of the way that it looks and because of the cinematography of it, but I'm just a geek like that, those are the kinds of things I look for. But if we're talking about movies that are actually good, go buy Big Fish, it's a great movie. Jennifer: Is it good? I heard that it's really depressing. William: Did you? No way. Jennifer: I work at a video store and that's what everyone's told me, I haven't watched it. William: But those people that told you that mind be those people-- Jennifer: Oh, the close minded ones, yeah. William: The people with the light off! If you watch that movie it's so cool because it seriously confronts some issues like death and memories and relationships being parents and fathers and mothers and their children. I thought it was a really heartwarming movie, especially at the end. It's not this cheese fucking Hollywood ending that everyone wishes would happen but doesn't, you know, but yeah I think it's a great movie. Jennifer: Have you seen I Heart Huckabees? William: I have not, yet. Jennifer: It seems like a movie you'd like. William: I'm sure I would like it. Jennifer: It's kinda like, off the wall, it seems like one you'd like. William: My girlfriend got it and said that it was pretty cool and I'd probably like it. Yeah, I should probably get it. Jennifer: Yeah, I didn't like it that much. William: You didn't? Jennifer: I like my stupid girly movies. William: Like what? Like what? Jennifer:: Like, have you seen the Notebook? William:: I haven't seen that one yet! Jennifer: What?! It's so good. You will cry, I bet. William: I'm one of those dudes that cries in movies, like seriously. Jennifer: Everyone cries in that movie! William: Dude, I even cried in, this is so embarrassing, I even cried in A Walk to Remember. Jolene: Oh, I cried in that one. Jennifer: That movie is so sad! William: I cried like seven times in that movie ALONE, I was alone! I have a huge crush on Mandy Moore, too, like a Hollywood Crush. Jennifer: That one was really sad. William: But at the same time, you know, it's also very... Jennifer: No. William: You don't think so? Jennifer: No! She should've lived. William: But she did through him! She changed. Jennifer: I know, I know! But wouldn't it have been better if she just lived forever? William: Well, it's not Hollywood. Jennifer: I know! What's in your pocket right now? William: Like, seventeen cents in change and a guitar pic, and that's it. Oh, and my cell phone is in my jacket, if that counts. Jennifer: It counts! William: These are cool questions! Did you make them up, too? Jolene: No. [laughs] William: Maybe you should let her make some up next time! Jennifer: I tried! I was like, 'Jolene, help me think of some questions.' She said, 'We're going to do it on the way there.' Two and a half hours later, oh no, no questions. [everyone laughs]

What's in your CD player right now? William: I have an I-Pod. Jennifer: Well what's on your I-Pod that you're listening to a lot lately? William: I'm just going to be difficult. No, I have an I-Pod, sorry. [everyone laughs] I listen to tapes, I don't even have a CD player. No, uh, what am I like loving right now? I'm loving Ryan Adams right now. I'm loving Muse. Jennifer: Oh, they're so good! William: I was on this huge Muse thing and I totally forgot about it and didn't listen to it for forever. I listened to them again today and I was like, AH! I was like, [does Italian voice] yes, yes, yes, this is so good. [everyone laughs] I'm listening to a lot of Radiohead, I'm always listening to Simon and Garfunkel, I'm a huge Simon and Garfunkel fan. Prince, I'm listening to a lot of Prince, a bit of Bowie. It's sort of today's little shuffle encompassed, so that was that. What's the last concert you've went to, other than one that you've played at? William: Damn... I was at South by Southwest but I didn't see any bands, I was just wandering throughout the streets. Last time I was at a show, watching bands... oh, yeah! it was an acoustic show in Chicago, it was Bob Nanna from Hey Mercedes and Justin Pierre from Motion City Soundtrack. They just played acoustic, it was really cool. What are some questions that you hate hearing in interviews? I probably should've asked you this at the beginning so I wouldn't have asked you any of them. William: [laughs] Yeah, right! There really aren't any questions that I really hate, I encourage tough questions. I enjoy people asking tough questions. Hard hitting questions or ones that are condescending because it's their right as journalists to ask those questions. I wouldn't ask somebody, 'What songs do you hate? And I won't write those.' No, I wouldn't ask anyone that, I would just write what I love and write what I want. So yeah, that's my answer. What's a question that you've been wanting an interviewer to ask you but they haven't? William: I haven't thought of one because with every interview, with a few exceptions, I've been asked new questions that I haven't heard before, like today for instance. That's enough for me to keep interested.

[vesperlionheart]

I admire your work a lot, I am trying to comment on every book I can read, sometimes I appear as Nanami or Diane (Live The GaaSaku Forever o LTGSF!!! it's my signature), I love GaaSaku, but I don't have the confidence to write my ideas on paper, I have always wondered how you distribute your time to write and your personal life? I really admire that about you. Good night.

That’s very kind of you to say and thank you for both the compliment and the comments! 

In terms of distributing time between my writing life and my personal life/work, I’m so flattered to hear that you think I balance them well, because I never feel like I do.I will say, I think that the fact I’m a full time employee has a big part to play in all of this. When I was in college I never felt like I had free time, because there was always an assignment, a paper, readings, or a project I should be working on. Compared to that, working a ‘real job’ provides me with better boundaries that I can utilize for a more balanced lifestyle. It does get easier the older you get, and this idea that life peaks in your 20′s is really such a lie. Stability is sexy, my friends. It helps me balance so much. That being said, I get 5 to 6 hours of sleep each night except on the weekends where I just almost never leave my bed because I’m THE WORST. I’m honestly such a mess, a true disaster. I’m not sure where the energy comes from during the day. But I’m really good at pushing up against my limits, (not healthy!) and driving myself to do hard things. I am literally the worst; I’d rather go all day without eating than ask for a lunch break because that just feels so rude to me and I’m terrible and not someone worth emulating!

For real though, treat yourself better than I do, lol.  

But on another note, writing is my emotional release. I’ve been doing it for years and years and it’s always been the thing that I gravitate towards. When examining priorities in my life, there’s money so I can live, and then there’s writing. It’s been a lifesaver and it’s been a balm. I love it and I think I’ll always be writing, even if my life drastically changes, writing will always be a part of it.

Writing is like a muscle and I use it regularly. I try to write a little bit every night before bed, even if it’s garbage and never sees the light of day (I’ve got so much terrible stuff I hate but that’s okay because I worked out to get it.) And during the weeks I can’t write, I forgive myself and try to take time out on the weekend to write.

DON’T LET A LACK OF CONFIDENCE KEEP YOU FROM MAKING BAD ART. Seriously, if you think my writing is good listen up, I think it’s crap and I’m always envious of other authors/writers for their beautiful stories but i’ve learned over the years that confidence does not grow in an empty garden; it’s never gonna just come to you. You gotta try, my friend, you gotta go for it and make some terrible art, some awful writing, some self indulgent crap. Write and keep writing. I will not lie to you, the early years stuff is probably going to suck, and that’s okay because you got it out of you. Keep writing. Confidence is a lie and you shouldn’t wait for it. You don’t have to share what you write, but pick up your tools and write. Go for it! Make some GaaSaku stuff because the world needs more of it. Make what makes you happy. 

[ao3feed-themagnusarchives]

You look death in the eyes, you wave hello, but they shake their head and you keep on living

by Garecc

A Tim lives Scotland fic. Because not only am I still in denial of Tim's death, I am in denial over the second half of 160. Season 5 scares me.

Tim is anxious, he isn't sleeping. He's convinced that at any moment, they will be attacked and killed. Dragged back into the fears and back into the endless vats of terror. He stays up at night, anxiously keeping watch. Because if he doesn't, who will?

Jon precedes to drag him to bed, and make him get some actual rest other than the on and off 20-minute naps throughout the day.

Words: 1469, Chapters: 1/1, Language: English

Fandoms: The Magnus Archives (Podcast)

Rating: General Audiences

Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply

Categories: Gen, Multi

Characters: Tim Stoker (The Magnus Archives), Jonathan Sims

Relationships: Jonathan Sims & Tim Stoker, Jonathan Sims/Tim Stoker, Martin Blackwood/Jonathan Sims/Tim Stoker

Additional Tags: Martin is also there but more minor, Like martin is asleep the whole time and has no dialouge, Tim Lives, This is my Self Indulgent Tim Lives au, Hurt/Comfort, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Angst, Happy Ending, Pre-Slash, Pre-Relationship, the tim/jon isnt really there yet but its building up and heavily implied, this is sans all the prior tim forgiving jon and stuff bc i just felt like writing this, I Wrote This Instead of Sleeping, Literal Sleeping Together, Cuddling & Snuggling, Scotland, This is a tim lives scorland fic, slow burn but like only in the au as a whole, no beta we die like tim, or at least canon tim anyway, this is soft, Fluff and Angst

source http://archiveofourown.org/works/23153593

[vanaera]

Petals in Envelopes

25. Things you said in writing

Synopsis | Misunderstandings happen when Jungkook expresses himself aloud so instead, he opts for writing, the medium that you know best, even if he has to hide under a different identity. (Or this is where you start to receive love letters from The Little Prince).

Genre | Tooth-aching flufffff I'm not even joking, oh and an attempt to humor because I’m suffering and I wanna laugh

Wordcount | 3,333 (I did not intend this but WOW)

Read more of football!jk drabbles in The Prince and His Rose

           If Jungkook would compare his locker to yours, there is always one single thing that sticks out like a sore thumb and it has always been there since kinder – the obnoxious, cheesy, overrated, sickening love letters.

           When you were in kinder, you always asked yourself how does your bestfriend always receives letters any time of the day when he’s always been nothing but an annoying “buttface.” Jungkook would watch you pout at the emptiness of your locker just to have the chance to poke your side and tell you to stop frowning because your ugliness will only drive more boys away. Of course you’re not one to be challenged so you chased him away with a shoe in your hand that almost whacked him out when you threw it his way. To sum up that fateful event, Jungkook realized the locker topic is not one to be brought up ever again. Anyway, that day didn’t stop you from mulling the thought over and over again. The frequency of the arrival of pink letters only increased as you two grew up to the point that Jungkook’s locker in high school is always expected to burst with the annoying pinkness every Valentine’s Day. Even when you reached college, the letters still came, though it wasn’t as intense as the previous years, but nevertheless, they are still there.

           You’re not jealous–okay when you were a chaotic five year old, of course you are–because it’s nice that your bestfriend gets some admiration here and there that unfortunately just makes his ego, that is already larger than his head, only grow. What only frustrates you is–why the hell does everyone seem to admire him and not you?! You’re much attractive than your dumbface of a bestfriend!

           “It’s because the Jeon Effect is irresistable!” Jungkook declares which only earned him a playful slap on the shoulder. He decides he’ll forgive you for that as consequence for always messing up your hair when you meet.

           In his defense, Jungkook admits that he’s really irresistible. What great ego he has, right? But anyway, most of the reason why there are zero letters in your locker centers around him and him only and yep, you’re not supposed to know that because you’re gonna beat him up when you finally learned the truth.

           You see, Jeon Jungkook always has a problem when it comes to you.

          You always had this effect that makes people gravitate around you and as his bestfriend, he doesn’t want to feel left out. It’s selfish he knows but what can you do when you’re five and another guy or girl kept hogging your attention to tell them stories, leaving him less time with you than the usual? Shouldn’t he be given more attention and more exposure to your storytelling as privilege of being your bestfriend? The answer is “yes, he should be” and he kept that mentality through high school and now, in college. He always drives off the boys that just so much attempt to slip in the damned pink envelope in the crevice of your locker and he keeps you away from those who are adamant to have you for themselves. He knows it sounds kinda paranoid but for him, it’s his form of his expression of affection, and well protection as evidenced by the Lee Taeyong Incident that will not be brought up now. Some other day will do, okay, just not now. He wants to indulge in the fluffiness of his stupidity for today.

           Anyway, Jungkook’s expression of affection, as introduced above, is quite peculiar. Soft sentiments are a luxury Jungkook can't easily afford for everybody, except for his family, close friends, and yeah, especially you. In a sidenote, that practically sounds like everyone but Jungkook swears it isn’t. Going back, Jungkook’s expressions of endearment for his family and friends ranges from bear hugs, bro hugs, fist bumps, and sometimes playful whacking of necks but when it comes to you, he doesn’t know why the hell he seems to be a new person. For Jungkook doesn’t spew intended mean comments at anyone but everytime he opens his mouth in front of you, Jungkook's supposed-to-be compliments turns to insults or…unusual nonsense he cannot even understand. And most of these instances involve his admiration for the little things in you.

           Your usual petty arguments most of the time revolves around his fondness for your (a bit) small, terribly cute height. He loves how your height contrasts against his in an endearing way that makes him look–actually he is someone you can (literally and figuratively) look up to and depend on. He loves how your head falls against his shoulders when you sit side by side in a perfect puzzle fit that makes him feel he's the only piece out there that can complement you. He just loves you and your height, okay.

           And all he could muster to say almost everyday was, "Your short legs are cute."

           The smile on your face when you met him falls into a frown. "Great way to say 'Good morning, Y/N', Jeon. I already know my legs are short, you don't have to inform me again and again."

           "But- But I said they're cute!" Jungkook tries to explain but you already walked far from him and towards your first class.

           "It's a compensation for your remark!"

           After agonizing over the fact he hadn’t received his morning hug from his bestfriend, he has to endure seeing you ignore him for a half a day for unknowingly ruining your morning, which to be honest, always starts out unfortunate. Anyway, after a class and two, you happily bounced to him and demanded him to treat you as an apology. It's always your go-to tactic when he upset you since you're in kinder – the feet apart, hands on your waist pose, a.k.a. the power stance, and the "you have to treat me as your 'sorry'" is all too familiar. He’s never run so fast in his life just to buy you that carbonara in Mark’s that you always crave. And oh, he also buys you a rose from the nearby flower shop. The color of his face competes the redness of the pimple that erupted like a volcano on the corner of his hairline, which he sure as hell covered with his fringe to keep it away from your sight that may or may not weaken the Jeon Effect, when he gave the flower to you. It wasn’t the first time he gave you a flower but the effect of the first time still remains. The songs in his chest goes on and on through day and night and they only increased in tempo when he finds out the next day that you already pressed the petals of the flower in your notebook, the one filled with your poems and proses, so as to keep the rose permanent.

           “So as to remind you that would be the last time you will insult my legs!” you huff.

           Well, Jungkook can’t promise he would actually stop. He loves your height too much.

           Aside from your height, another thing Jungkook finds very, very weakening to his heart is your utter clumsiness. Your entrance in rooms or anywhere when he meets you is punctuated with you tripping on your own foot, or a tornado of papers falling from your clutches, and if not papers, then books or the tray from the cafeteria which is very much more alarming. No wonder everytime he sees you, he feels his heart shaking - from anticipation or worry, he doesn't know. He just muddles it up together as fondness for you, his small, chaotic bean. And he wants to be the reason why you will blush or why your heart will skip a beat but the circumstances just has to topple over the proportion.

           One day when it's your turn to bring the tray containing your foods to your table, Jungkook speaks out his mind. "I don't know why I always have to watch for my heart when I'm with you."

           You face him, brows almost bunched together. "Why? Am I bad enough to cause you heart attacks now?"

           Yeah, heart attacks from your cuteness. "No but you will because you're gonna trip on yourself-" and you do. Luckily, Jungkook has his hand on your arm and the other on your tray before anything spills or gets wasted on the grimy floor. The momentum has your back pressed close to his chest, too close for his heart. Your natural scent fills his senses and Jungkook thinks he may die too early for his age. You were supposed to feel the overwhelming cardiovascular palpitations from this very cliché romantic move in movies, not him-Oh my fucking god, she will hear my fucking heartbeat-

           "Thanks, Kook,” you said as Jungkook helps you regain your balance, hands on your shoulders to keep you steady.

           Jungkook breathes out, "You're welcome" and composes himself. The beating of his heart has still not stabilized so he immediately does his go-to mechanism: be the cool dude. Jungkook wills himself to try the eyecandy move and smirks. "I hate to say I told you so but I will still do so. You should just leave the tray business to me."

           You glanced at him, placing your tray on the table. His effort – The Smirk™ unnoticed. "But I don't want to look like I can't do this simple stuff without you.

           Jungkook decides to rest his case. The Jeon Effect is not working so he’ll go back to his usual self. Settling on his seat, he tells you, "I know you can. I just insist because I want to. Otherwise I would just leave it to you - like our pair project that I'm too lazy to do."

           Your forehead furrows in worry. "Hey, you're not going do that are you? Don't you-"

           Jungkook laughs. Of course he can't let you do a two-people-project on your own like the past people who did just because "you're a writer, you can do this stuff easily." Anyway, he just shrugs, a smug smirk on his face that irritates the hell out of you. "I'll think about it."

           "HEY!"

           Ah, you're just too cute for his poor heart.

           And there's a whole lot of things that he loves about you, like your fascination for fashion, how your eyes sparkle - really sparkle when you talk about writing, how you hold up yourself to everyone and be intimidating like the badass that you are. Honestly, you possess million things he adores to every bit and Jungkook thinks he has to spend a lifetime to tell everything about you that he loves and learned to love.

           Going back to his main dilemma: So far, everything is good - pining for you, impressing you, earning attractive points when he attempts to be "eyecandy" again, except for one (excluding the unforeseen obstacles like Kim Jongin sneaking behind his back to get to you because that is a separate problem Jungkook will have to deal with in another day). Yes, he's courting you, but he can't make you feel like he's actually doing so because, quoted from his friends, "his mouth always has to fail him." And this could be illustrated in numerous instances.

            Your have such a nice smile. "You have nice teeth.”

           You give him an incredulous look. "Thanks?”

            You styled your hair so pretty today, I wanna touch it. "Nice hair! Lemme touch," Jungkook pats the curls you did and you swat his hands in annoyance.

           "Jungkook, stop messing my hair!"

            You really look good today, ethereally good everyday. "Wow! You look nice today!"

           "Just today?"

           Jungkook scrunches his nose. Why are you asking? You do look good today. "Yeah."

           You only scowled at him. "I hate you."

             "Why can't you just say nice words to her that will make her heart go doki doki?" Taehyung asked one Friday during their practice.

           "I've said nice words!" Jungkook pants in between intakes of air, still breathless from their play. "And okay, I'll appreciate your attempt for kawaii eventhough you're being far from cute."

           "Hey!" Taehyung claps his back and Jungkook snorts. "As I was saying," Taehyung hands Jungkook a water bottle, "You've always been romantic. You're even clingy to us!"

           "I am not! I-"

           "Then what do you call that day when you thought Namjoon was going to accept the overseas scholarship, and you bawled your eyes out like your parents are putting you up for adoption."

           "That's -"

           "Or that day when Yoongi went out to get lamb skewers alone and you practically hogged him when he went back to our hangout place and you're like,” Taehyung makes crying poses, “'never leave me alone again, hyung.'”

           Jungkook runs his hand over his face. "Oh my god, that was only one time!"

           "Anyway, that's not the point," Taehyung looks at him, serious now. "You always fuss when Y/N is not by your side, act like the drama queen that you are, or tell us countless of times how 'Y/N is so amazing,' 'Y/N is so hot'-"

           "I'm not like that!"

           "Same context, though, Jeon," Taehyung giggles before finally drinking his water. After wiping his lips, he continues on. "Why be affectionate behind her back and act like a dumb, annoying jerk when she's in front of you?"

           Jungkook freezes. "I act like- like a jerk in front of her?"

           "A dumb jerk," Taehyung emphasizes, "You're not rude okay. You just say dumb things that make you look like a jerk."

           "I don't get you."

           "Don't worry, I also don't get myself." Jungkook scrunches his face at this and Taehyung breaks into a fit of giggles. "Jokes aside, you're being a jerk because you make mindless comments that make her feel bad or confused."

           Jungkook looks down, biting his lip. It's true though. His attempts of romance only make you frustrated or bewildered. Not once has he made you blush. Not once has the Jeon Effect been actually effective on you. You only laugh at his silliness but it's not something he can regard as his special effect on you when you easily just laugh...at everything. You already break out into snickers just by the sight of his face.

           Jungkook sighs and shakes his head. "Honestly, I don't know what to do, hyung. You said that I should try to compliment her smile and I did. I noticed the details she put on her hair and I said them aloud. I complimented how she looks that day and I really worked on the courage to say it. But everything always has to go down the drain. I can't voice them out the way I want them to be and I feel bad I'm making her feel like this."

           "Of course she'll react that way. It's not everyday that someone repeatedly informs you your legs are short or that your teeth is nice." Jungkook's glare makes Taehyung chuckle and finally think of something sensible to say. "For the record, I'll give you full points for determination and effort.” Taehyung pauses, enjoying the sight of a very lost Jungkook. And then a light bulb suddenly goes off in his mind and Taehyung’s smile widen. “If you can't voice out your feelings, have you ever thought of an alternate medium? Do you really need to say them aloud?”

           That's when a similar light bulb goes off in Jungkook's head. "Oh man holy shit, hyung."

           Taehyung smirks and drinks from his bottle, his other hand reaching for a fist bump to which Jungkook reciprocated, smiling. "How come I've never thought of that?"

           “It’s because you’re dumb.”

           “I hate you. Okay, I’m not gonna hit you as a sign of gratitude for the one sensible idea you have ever given to me.”

             Jungkook has thought of a perfect plan and approximately just two days later ("That fast?" "Yes, hyung, that fast. It's the Jeon Effect."), he sees his plan come into reality the moment you open your locker.

           "Eh, what is this?" you grab the lone pink envelope laying flat on top of your books. You don't remember having any stationary that matched the pink paper and the small golden? (It’s yellow with glitters so it’s golden according to Jungkook) crown drawn on the bottom left. How did it end up here? Quickly, you turned around and flashed the strange object to your bestfriend."Jungkook, look what I found."

             Jungkook's eyes widen, his lips splitting into a grin. "Oh my god,Y/N, you got a love letter! For the first time in forever!"

             "Love letter?" You frown.

             "Of course, Y/N! It's pink and it's in your locker, of course it's a love letter!" You look at him funny before deciding that yeah, maybe, this is a love letter. Jungkook received tons of them in high school, and actually until now, and given with his experience, maybe he's right. But you still won't know until you see it. Excitement bubbling in your chest, you set down your bag on the floor and hurriedly took off the heart-shaped pink tape that secured the flap of the envelope.

      "Wow, finally someone started to get attracted to you! It's about time you start considering not to become an eternal maiden, Y/N!" You could hear Jungkook tease you behind your back but your mind was too focused on opening this hell of an envelope. The moment you finally opened it, a small piece of a vintage-looking stationary paper is folded inside and your hand carefully pulled it out. You spread it open, your eyes drinking in every detail like a map that would lead you to a hidden treasure. The margins of the paper contain seemingly hand-drawn planets and one single rose, but apart from the wonderful illustrations your eyes cannot tear itself away from the handwritten letters penned as if to make it an entire art itself.

 " Dear princess,

I know you may be wondering who I am but for the mean time, let me just be the prince who loves you from afar. Sorry this might have come too sudden, but please let me admire you from a distance until the day I finally have courage to reveal myself. This is in no way how princes write letters so to compensate for my lacking skills, I will try to be more romantic:

The roses will be in a losing battle trying to rival your beauty and comparing you to an ephemeral entity seems pointless when I could spend the rest of my days dreaming about an eternity with you. Nevertheless, I just wish for you to know how wonderfully beautiful you are in every possible way.

 This may be cringey but I hope I made your day a little bit better.

 Your admirer from a faraway land,

The Little Prince."

            "So, what did it say?" Jungkook asks, grinning at the way you seem to not hear a word he's saying, too focused on the love letter, too focused on his words. The sight of your blooming grin makes the birds in his chest flutter. He's finally done it right! The Jeon Effect is working -though not directly – it’s fucking working and that's all enough to appease his poor love-sick heart.

           The glow you suddenly had makes Jungkook weak in the knees and when you finally tore your eyes away from the letter, Jungkook knows he's done for.

           "Oh man holy shit! Jungkook I finally have an admirer!"

           Jungkook smiles, leaning on your locker to watch you do a little twirl and giggle, letter clutched by small hands, pressed close to your chest.

           I'll always be your admirer and it will only be about time until I have the courage to finally say it right.

 Y/N, you're pretty. "Y/N, you look hot."

"What the fuck, Jungkook?"

"Sorry, I–my brain is malfunctioning."

"O...kay?"

"Damn it, why can't I say it right?"

"What do you mean?"

"U-uh- nothing."

"...Are you sure you're okay?"

I actually don't know. "Yes!"

 A/N | Hi anon, I hope you enjoy this! I was already writing this when your request came and the coincidence is amazing!

On a sidenote, I’m editing through the fics I made for the requests so be prepared for the onslaught of my replies and keep sending me requests for Things you said and Songs to Read Playlist!

And also, talk to me, hons! Hit me up with a message! That would be greatly appreciated! :D I hope you have a great day/night and thank you for all the love you have showered me :*)

 All Rights Reserved © Vanaera. No reposts, modifications, and translations of content are allowed without direct permission.

[thestrangestinthisstrangeland]

As We Lay Dreaming- chapter 5

warnings- none

summary- we can be anyone when we sleep, even our true selves.

AN - So I know this is a dreamless (ha!) chapter, I hope you'll stick with me because I just can't tell a story without the plot being well fleshed out, forgive my little indulgences I promise there's a reason and fingers crossed you'll all think it pays off in the end. If you're still here, you're awesome and thank you!

The one and only Mr. Gaiman has been one of the biggest inspirations behind my writing and my desire to get my stuff published one day. I just felt it necessary to add that if you haven’t read American Gods, please, add it to the top of your list. The idea of forgotten gods is something I think we’re all familiar with but the way he does it is just incredible and that book broke my brain and put it back together. This is and will remain a sandman fic but being able to slip in some nods to AG has been almost too much fun.

masterlist

AO3

*

"We were kings. We held power in our palms. We seeded the earth, and from those beginnings, such greatness grew."

In sleep, even old men find lost memories of who they once were, and in the back office of his grocery store –the finest in five counties– old Josiah Brown sleeps, and he dreams…

Black sparkling sands shift underfoot. They are the forgotten shores left empty by the stolen ones– but in dreams they are remembered.

"Our true names were known by all. Rich, poor, farmer, tradesmen, politician-- beggar." A voice as strong as the ocean current fills the broad brown chest and echoes out over the quiet scene. "It made no difference. Our names were spoken out loud! No one was afraid to say them when we were Kings!" He is boastful and takes a proud stance with his arms bent, fist at his waist, gold arm bands gleaming in the light of a thousand stars that fill the night sky. He's shed the skin of Josiah like an old coat, forgotten and tossed aside on the soft sands. Let me breathe, he thinks, inhaling deeply. Let me feel this air in my lungs.

Dropping his chin, Josiah-who- is-not suddenly finds it strange that he should be standing near the ocean and not in the middle of his well-tended crops, but perhaps he'd come this way after toiling under Liza's golden might, her rays bringing life to his harvest. Yes. That must be it.

"They brought gifts and sang." He reminisces . "From every corner of our great kingdom, they came to see the ones who ruled." He would have gone on, enjoying the sound of his own voice if not for the reply. It was unexpected, but when we least want answers, there they are.

"We were more than that old love. We were gods."

He stops, hands dropping, head back and slack-jawed.

Spinning to look up at the swirling galaxies overhead, Josiah-who-is-not opens his arms; tears sting his eyes. "Yemaya?" He runs aimlessly in the dark. "Yemaya!" He feels speed come back to him as it did when he was still strong, and his body was more than this earthly form– this brittle shell. "My love, please!" Asleep and awake, on the shores of the place they were forced to, he has not heard her voice in so very long.

"Stop running, old man. It is just a dream. I am just your better self, telling you to remember who you were, who you are. We were gods and gods we will always be, with or without the love of the people who no longer know our names."

He draws back, knowing in that instant that she's right. Of course. Yemaya is always right, and-- she is gone. She was silenced by the cruelty of oppression and erasure many years ago.

"But. You know what you feel; you know what you saw. Things very old, much older than yourself, even older than me, have come to this place, and all of it is because of her. She is a woman who bears heavy burdens, but compared to us she is only a girl." Yemaya went on. "She can not do this on her own. You must remember this dream and who you are, protect her and help her remember too. It is the least you can do."

He lifts his head and looks up to the cosmos, anger and loss intertwined. "Ah. Retribution for the sins of the son…." Heavy is that weight still, even in sleep, and Josiah-who-is-not hangs his head.

"No" The disembodied voice of the goddess he once loved replied. "Not retribution. Guidance for a child because you are not the son. You are the father of the son. You are not him Oko. Now. Wake up. Go and do what you can."

"I can do nothing. Give what I grow. Care for what is rightfully mine." He shrugged.

"That is good old love.That is a start. Do not shut them out,"

"Them?"

" The oneiromancer. The one called Morpheus and the beloved child, your granddaughter Glory. They're young love must survive."

He looked away. "The Dream King is as old as the first thought, you said so yourself."

"Yes, but this love he feels, that they feel, it is new. It is good! When have you ever known one to love an endless without it going badly?"

"I do not care what happens to the endless."

"Ahhh. You never paid attention to such things. But you will care now. They need you Oko."

He would not argue. Not with her. Even if she was no more than his own subconscious, he would take her anyway he could.

He remembers walking through his fields of gold to her shores of green and blue. Hand in hand, two worlds two hearts. They had acomplished so much together, even the other god knelt to them. Those times were lost, nothing but memories within dreams that he would lose on waking.

"Well?" She asked and he smiled. She never waited long for him to answer.

"Yes, of course, I will do whatever I can."

Yemaya's spirit had been asleep inside the shell of so many women for so many years, that to hear her true voice was a gift. He would not squander it on trivial details such as how this moment came to be, especially not after Selma... losing Glory's grandmother to the state she was in now was like losing his first love all over again. She had been the closest match the goddesses true nature.

"Then be well Oko. One that I once loved. And go peacefully,"

The stars begin to rise like a surging wave curling over on itself as she turns away. The black curve of space bends and folds as she leaves him to remember this night, which he already knows is always so much easier said than done. Josiah feels the ache come back to his bones, the joints twist and swell. His vision begins to blur just enough that the stars fade. The pains of age bind him to his mortal skin once more. If he's not careful, he will forget.

He must not forget this time!

"We were kings... we were Gods. We were love before the first beating heart could break and I will remember."

Tonight, for Glory he would try.

[tothedarkdarkseas]

Wanted to ask something you've never been asked yet. Why do you write the stuff that you write? I know that you've said before, "I don't want my stuff to be seen as just smut or Gorillaz fanfic." I figure you have a reason, like an emotional feeling that writing expresses.

I'm sorry for the delay answering this (and the even longer delay on the AJJ question in my ask box-- I am so sorry to that anon, it's gonna be a tough one!) and hope you'll forgive it as, believe it or not, I've actually been writing the past few nights in the timeslot I often use to answer asks. Still a good ways off from finishing but I've met some short-term goals! A lot of navel-gazing rambles below:

Honestly, this is a difficult question to answer because I don't really know where writing fits in my life or how significant it will ever be outside of this blog. Right off the bat, I think it makes me sound like a complete tool to say it's "not just Gorillaz fanfic" when it quite literally is, haha. I don't have any illusions that writing fanfic is a lofty thing by nature, even if fanfiction across the ages has every ability to be "as good" as original literature-- this isn't a denial that fanfiction of a literary caliber exists, but I don't indulge in wishful thinking that my fanfic belongs in league with those. I do care, that much is certain. For all my failings, all my embarrassments and learning stumbles and clunk, I'll at least respect my efforts enough to say that I cared very much about every story as it was being written, regardless of how much I liked it thereafter. The simplest answer then would be that I wrote what I did because I cared about the potential in the characters, I cared for the versions of the two that had taken shape like real people in my imagination. And perhaps even more, if I was going to do something that others would see, if I was going to be open to judgment, I cared about putting in as much effort as I possibly could. By no stretch does that mean any resulting story was as good as it could have been, but... it was as good as I was capable of at that time. (I won't harp on this note much further as I know it's uncomfortable, I know it is offputting and rude to put others in the position of watching you criticize yourself, but I want it to be understood that I'm not trying to involve anyone else in that sort of talk. It really is just an unbiased observational l thing to me and something necessary for improvement, I think, just speaking candidly about these thoughts without so much emotional weight on them. But as a last thought: "trying" is a unique conundrum, as it is mortifying to feel you've failed on something you sincerely tried on, but I would have felt ashamed and hyper-critical to share something I hadn't tried on.)

I would have said in the past that I didn't write to work out any personal problems or to self-insert or chase fantasies, as that was never the motivation in exploring these characters, and their unsatisfactory endings would make that wish fulfillment or fantasy pretty grim. Being challenged so much to finish this WIP, though... I don't know if I can say I'm totally divorced from it on like, a non-literal level. I definitely don't consider Stu to be "like me" here, but I do think certain aspects of him are... informed, y'know, informed by things that I'm empathetic to. The fact that it's turned into this bizarre plotless mountain of avoidant behaviours that I cower at and avoid, and the fact that writing about a guy with depression became a lot more draining during the pandemic, is probably not much of a coincidence.

To an extent, I do just want stories that are interesting to me, that touch on human drama and keep a heavy hand of realism on the edges of the scene. That would probably be the most flattering thing to say. I don't think that entirely covers the nuance of actually writing, as in the process and the toll vs reward which massively fluctuates from person to person. Honestly, I don't know sometimes why I do it when I've struggled quite a lot, and I've certainly had some ungraceful private reactions to sensible advice that I shouldn't do a hobby I'm not enjoying enough; I've taken some offense to those well-meaning suggestions (even though I would most likely give the same advice to someone else) and to me, that says that there is some ego tied up in it, even if it's a seesaw that tilts up before tilting back the other way and giving that ego a beating. Writing has at times made me feel quite good, and it has at times made me feel like a failure. It has made me feel like I've got something of value to show and to prop some amount of self-worth up with, and it has made me feel like I've publicly embarrassed myself, which is the absolute center point of my anxiety, personally. I think that I've stuck with it, in the admittedly minimal way I've stuck with it compared to others with more prolific libraries, because those positive feelings are worth feeling worse sometimes. Up to a limit, at least. I do see myself in Stu in that way. I haven't quite met the wall with that yet, and I hope that I don't-- it would be my preference, if I could move freely with no other factors muddying the map, to keep writing as long as someone cares. I don't take for granted that I'm very lucky to have that now and that I may not always, so right now I feel more attuned to the sense of failure for not finishing the story and squandering that time and good will, rather than focusing on the failure to meet an idealistic standard.

Sorry for the rambles. Stream of consciousness stuff. I hope that you'll read this as honesty and candor because I respect and appreciate you being here with me, and not feel too disappointed in the unflattering bits. I really... I do think it's important to see those unflattering parts sometimes. To put bookends on this, if writing-- and specifically writing what I have for this fandom-- has taught me anything, I think it means something to see the whole picture, even if you like the cover shot more.