#ashe writes fanfiction APPARENTLY

[hannah-heartstrings]

Sweet Surprise

During a trip to Skingrad, Lecrinn and Garrus decide to surprise each other. Early in the timeline, though I'm not actually sure how canon it is.

The lost sweetroll prompt fic. I spent half a month writing this, finished it, and went "meh." By then I'd worked on it to the point of not being able to tell if it was good or not, and I still can't tell.

So I'll just release it into the wild and you can tell me. (I do know some things I do and don't like but I decided to keep them to the tags.) From October 2022 but I'm still accepting concrit on it.

@druidx @babyblueetbaemonster @inkysqueed

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            Cradling two sweet rolls in one hand Lecrinn held them close as she pushed the heavy door with the other. She opened it just enough to slip out, leaving the chatter and warmth of the busy inn for the street outside. It was also busy and warm but more tolerably so.

            She squinted against the afternoon sun. Now that she had the sweet rolls it was time to find Garrus, after she dragged him all the way from Cheydinhal to Skingrad it was only right he get something out of it.

            The roads were narrow between the tall stone buildings that arched above them. She weaved through their hustle and bustle. The street widened out into a fork, forward continued to more buildings and to the left, a statue of a horseman. There gazing up at the statue she found Garrus.

            Catching her from the corner of his eye he turned and beamed at her.

            She couldn’t help but smile back.

            “I have a surprise for you,” he said as she walked up.

            “So do I!” She stopped, both their smiles falling at the sweet rolls in the other’s hands. Looking back up at the other’s face they gave laughing smiles.

            “I suppose we had the same idea,” he shifted.

            She shrugged. “It’s a good idea.” His smile looked forced, he seemed to feel awkward, she didn’t know why and it was making her feel awkward too. “Well… this one’s yours,” she held one out and they swapped, both laughing a little. She noticed he only held one. “Did you already eat yours?”

            “I uh,” he glanced down, “I don’t know how much money this trip will end up costing so I only bought one for you.”

            “Oh…” she looked to her second one.

            “You can keep it.”

            “Nah, lets split it later.”

            “No, you bought it for yourself, you can have it.”

            She walked passed him. “One and a half sweet rolls is still more than I planned on getting.”

            He tilted his head, he supposed that was true. Turning he saw her sitting on the round base of the statue. He looked startled. “Are you allowed to sit there?”

            “I don’t see anyone guarding it.” Pulling the pack off her shoulders and beside her she rifled through it.

            “What if you get in trouble?”

            “Then you can just arrest me.”

            He looked around before going over to sit beside her.

            Finding a small cloth she wrapped up one of the rolls and put it in her pack. She then turned all her attention to the one in her hand, closing her eyes as she took a bite, savoring its sweet spice.

            “Mmm!”

            She looked to Garrus who was looking at his sweet roll surprised.

            “They really are better in Skingrad.”

            “Salmo’s sweet rolls are famous for a reason.”

            “Perhaps we should get more of these before we leave.”

            Her smile widened. “Does Cheydinhal have its own desserts?” She took another bite.

            “There’s the thirty layer cake.”

            She had to quickly swallow the bite. “Thirty layers?”

            “They’re thin.”

            “Why would you ever need thirty layers?!”

            “No, they’re very thin, it isn’t much taller than a regular cake.”

            “Oh… I’m having a hard time picturing it,” she gave a smirk, “I think I’ll have to see it for myself.” The smile turned more genuine. “Is it good?” She took a smaller bite.

            “I haven’t got to try one, they’re expensive.”

            The smile fell. “Oh.”

            “I like the spiced root cake the Dunmer make, and there’s one made from something called marshmerrow, it’s a little too sweet for me but I think you’d like it.”

            “I’ll have to try them next time I’m in town.”

            “I’m also quite fond of the bread they make out of yams, though,” he lowered his voice, “I’ve been afraid to try it with scrib jelly.”

            “What’s that?”

            “…Maybe when you’re done with your sweet roll.”

            Her brows rose.

            As they continued eating she looked around, gaze catching on the red leaves of a nearby tree, its branches bobbing slightly.

            He stared out at the street. “I have been trying to learn more about Dunmer culture, and not judge things that are different too quickly.”

            She smirked to him. “Except for scrib jelly?”

            “Well some things are easier to respect from afar.”

            “Ah.”

            “It is admirable though, because not much grows in the ashlands they have to find food elsewhere and they managed to get multiple food types out of something others wouldn’t see as such, they’re survivors, no matter the situation you put them in.”

            She furrowed her brows. “I really don’t want to know what a scrib is, do I?”

            “No.” Tearing a piece off his sweet roll he rolled it between his fingers. “I hope that learning more about them will help me be a better guard to them, like you said, at the very least, perhaps I’ll be a better man.”

            Her smile lessened but turned more genuine. “You are a good guard.”

            “I hope so, protecting everyone is why I became a guard in the first place.” Eating the bite his eyes lit up. He turned to her. “Does the Merchant Inn still make those blackberry tarts?”

            “What?” She blinked, brain taking a second to keep up with the sudden topic change.

            “I use to get them sometimes when I was training in the Imperial City.”

            “Um…” she glanced off, thinking, before turning back to him. “I don’t know, I’ll check. If they do I’ll bring you some, unless they wouldn’t stay good… Maybe I’ll just have to bring you there,” she smirked.

            “Hopefully that can be soon,” he turned back to his sweet roll.

            She looked surprised. Did he mean he wanted the tarts soon or did he like her dragging him places? She looked away as she couldn’t contain the grin spreading across her face.

            Turning back to him she saw he was staring at his dessert, the same awkward look as when she gave it to him. Seemed whatever had been bothering him never really went away. “What’s wrong?”

            “I am grateful, truly, but since I wanted to surprise you didn’t know what I was doing and bought some too.”

            “So now we have three sweet rolls,” she was confused as to how this was a problem.

            “I just feel bad you had to pay for two.”

            “Oh…” she glanced off with a smirk, “don’t worry about that.”

[humanteethmarksonhumanbone]

fictober prompt 16 “no, im not ok”

fandom: The Silt Verses

fanfiction/oc writing

characters: Pippa Strider (OC) & Lyra Christopher (OC)

“Are you ok?” Pippa took a second to evaluate her work of re-wrapping one of the travelers' many wounds.

“No, I'm not “ok”.” They said this with a dead annoyance that made sense considering this was the 3rd rewrap she had to do today and the pain medication was the only reason they were conscious.

They hadn't taken their eyes off Pippa for the entire time he had been there since waking up, save for when the sleeping medication took him. 

The traveler was doing better than they were before when they arrived, nearly comatose at the door of the parish, but still had a long way to recover and a long way to go before he trusted her. 

“You know sibling, if you keep glaring at me like that your neck is going to get stuck like that.” She said, sounding just like Oxbow when telling her to quit smoking “If you keep smoking you're going to dissolve into a pile of ash! Just wait”

“You try being held captive in a place you didn’t know with no idea how you got there.” The traveler didn’t move his gaze.

“First of all: not captive, you quite literally have a broken leg,” (amongst the several wounds that rendered him incapable of walking, let alone sitting up) “and two: how do you think I got here? Not like I remember either.” 

(Nothing like an allusion to a mysterious backstory to break the ice right?)

Even the traveler’s hardened gaze couldn’t hide his confusion.

“Yep, washed up on the bank when I was, oh I don’t know, 7? 8? Been here ever since.” 

“...oh.”

“Yep, no memories, nothing, well I guess some memories but nothing clear, so just the scars.” 

The traveler thought about this, taking a moment's pause before prying, tentatively,  

“..What about your family?” 

“No memories, remember? besides I have this place, and Cabbage of course.” 

“…Cabbage?” (Sure veggies were important but.. more than family??)

Pippa looked around the dingy room, searching for something, before settling her gaze on the table to her right, and pointed.

A big fluffy tabby cat, “Cabbage” apparently, stretched and yawned wide, showing off his claws and teeth, before curling back up. 

“Oh!” 

There was an awkward silence as Pippa turned around to get more bandages. But she no longer felt the travelers piercing stare at the back of her head, she took that as a good sign turning back to fact him,

“Let's get that bruise on your head shall we?” 

[melodicbreeze]

Author Portrait

get to know the author behind the blog! repost, do not reblog.

Basics Name/nickname: Ash Age: 26 Pronouns: they/them Years of writing: 10+

Reflection I saw others doing it back when roleplay groups were huge on Facebook. I started getting into more intensive writing in middle school when my friend and I would start writing self insert fanfics and the likes, especially when we started getting real into character crafting.

Do you have any writing routines? Not at all! I write when the mood strikes me. Usually it's not hard to get into a mood when I started working on something.

What's your favorite part about writing? Getting to create something together with someone! Also the plots. It's like, getting to read a fanfiction that ticks off all the stuff you want in one. It gets me so jazzed up and scratches the best itch in the brain.

Three things you like about your writing:

I like writing dialog! It helps that Venti is very chatty (even if he talks a lot but says little yknow). A lot of other muses I've had were pretty silent, so I thought I might stumble with dialog, but it's not really that hard for me!

I like that it's apparently good enough to gain some roleplay partners who want to write with me, haha.

I like that it lets me meet people! I've met some great friends, and my wonderful boyfriend, because I write!

A question for the next person! Write a question for the next person to answer. Once you've answered it, leave a new question for someone else to answer. From Vênus: What's the most challenging thing and character you've written, and why?

The most challenging writing I would say has to be on my previous main blog. I wrote Ryou Bakura, and he was a very quiet type. I had to work a lot with introspection, thoughts, and setting while writing him because I couldn't lean on dialog to keep the thread moving forward. I don't think there was one specific thread that was more difficult than the others, just that in general.

Anyway, it was great to learn and practice the "yes, and" of roleplaying. Responding to the previous reply being the yes, and then furthering it being the and, so that not one mun is solely moving the plot along.

My question for you: Is there a character from media you disliked that you then grow to really like because of a specific mun's portrayal?

Tagged by: @predvestnik

Tagging: @viridianwins @sylvctica @deiscension + anyone who wants to!

[myrammmortal]

Chapter 39, either the writing has gotten better or this is the hacker chapter

Disclaimer: I do not own the HP series and I am not the real XXXbloodyrists666XXX.

AN// I am an extremely immature pathetic idiot girl, I know. Out of boredom, I crack this girl's passy for fun (and it took less than 8 minutes to do it too) and will probably get in a shitload of trouble. Which I probably deserve 'cause I'm being a troll right now. Meh.

And I present to you MY crappy part in this story. (And take note I haven't even finished reading this fic yet, but instead skip over to skim chapter 38.) Flame, laugh, do whatever you want "preps."

I, the American retail wearing british-german vampire Sue, coughed up blood.

Satan kneeled down beside me.

"Noooooooooooooooo! Don't die!"

I gave him a rueful smile. "I'm sorry. It's something I had to do, to fufill my duty as the noble gothic Mary Sue."

Satan sobbed. "I love you Paul Darkness Omnipotentia Brick Face Landers."

"I love you two. I'll...I'll see you in hell." I mumbled, already finding my surroundings fading to black.

Frau Schneider suddenly popped into the room for no apparent reason. She frowned when she realized the room was oddly quiet, but at the sight of Paul Darkness Alzheimer Birdflu Landers' lifeless body, she screamed. Her face became pale with horror. She screamed for the healers, Daddy Till, Mcgoogle, and every single gothic person she could think of. It was a long, long, long, long, long, list. Still not sure why her parents old neighbours were here.

Suddenly, a glow started to surround the body of Paul Darkness Alzheimer Birdflu Landers. Everyone stared in shock. Her body started to lift ever so slowly and then, to everyone's shock, it started to incinerate.

When everyone realized what was happening, they rushed over to try to rescue the body, but it was too late, the Sue became nothing more then a pile of ashes.

A loud resounding of everyone bellowing "NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO...!!" filled the room.

A flash of white light from the ashes then started to bounce around the room. Everyone cowered in fear and were temporarily blinded. When it was all over, things changed.

All the silly goth clothes dropped from everyone's bodies (AN//I will refuse to explain how the hell that happened. EN: thank goodness because I don't want to know) and, in their place, clothes the characters would normally wear in canon appeared on their bodies.

When everyone got over the shock of becoming free of the gofick power, everybody cheered. Everyone started singing 'Ding dong the sue is dead...' Well, that is, until all the HP characters realized the true implications of becoming more canon like again.

All the characters who were supposed to be dead fell to the floor, their bodies cold and lifeless. Harry and Voldemort started dueling. On the left side of the two, the battle of the Light Side and the Dark Side were reaching a climax.

And, because the replacement author also likes to screw around with canon, Richard and Frau Schneider fled the scene and got married.

Meanwhile...

Down in hell, Paul Darkness Alzheimer Birdflu Landers shed a single tear because of her current situation. A situation that would live on for all eternity. Or at least until the end of fanfiction time.

She lost it all, but she knew she had to remain strong. Nothing would ever break her down.

She looked down over her pale body, and frowned. 'Where are my emo clothes?' She asked herself in confusion.

And then it occured to her...

For her shirt, she was wearing a bright pink polo with a little seagull on the (right or left? I can't remember) side. Below that, she was wearing a denim miniskirt with the "destroyed" look on it. Paired underneath that skirt were leggings with a little moose at the bottom. And then Paul Darkness Alzheimer Birdflu Landers realized, on her shoulder, she was carrying a pretty bag with an eagle on it that said Live Your Life written all over the bag.

Paul Darkness Alzheimer Birdflu Landers supressed the urge to scream. Here she was decked out in clothes prep to the extreme wearing stuff from Abercrombie and Fitch, American Eagle, AND Hollister.

Panicked, Paul Darkness Alzheimer Birdflu Landers hastily tried to take off the Hollister polo, but underneath it, there was another Hollister polo underneath. Paul Darkness Alzheimer Birdflu Landers frowned, and looked under her shirt. All she saw was a bra underneath (dare I point out it's from the Aerie line available at American Eagle?). Paul Darkness Alzheimer Birdflu Landers tried to remove the shirt again. But to her frustration, there was yet again another polo to replace it. Every polo more preppy and pink than the last.

"THIS IS UNLOGICAL AND DOES NOT MAKE ANY SENSE!!" Paul Darkness Alzheimer Birdflu Landers bellowed out to the air. She failed to see the irony in her statement, how hypocrytical her words were, seeing as she was practically calling the kettle black here.

Paul Darkness Alzheimer Birdflu Landers slit her writs and mumbled to herself, "Omigod."

/End Crap Fic.

AN// Oh yeah, if you wanna see the original content this chick had planned for this chapter, I accessed it through the document manager thingy, which I copied and pasted, so you can read it tomorrow

Editors Note: Thank you to whoever added the smallest bit of sanity to my perfect hell. I wish the whole "story" would've ended here but then again, I can't live without Daddy Till, Evil Twin of Flake, Sometimes Flake, Frau Schneider, Oliver Who Was Once Named Navel, Richard and Paul Darkness Alzheimer Birdflu Landers.

[morningstargirl666]

WIP WEDNESDAY #2

TBBW C30 - Sneak Peak

Finally, I have something written for the next chapter of The Big Bad Wolf at the same time WIP Wednesday comes around in the week! Thank you to @stars-and-darkness for reading over this and helping me get Klaus' characterisation right. And kudos to Joseph Morgan for portraying such a complicated character but like damn is Klaus hard to write. I'm still not sure if I've got it spot on. But eh, this is fanfiction.

Anyways, here's part of the flashback that opens chapter 30. Fun fact: originally, I didn't plan the flashback between Sam and Klaus in chapter 27, in fact that was improvised when I started writing the chapter. However this flashback was always going to be here, as it's quite a significant one.

______________________________________________________________

1992, Minnosota, Superior National Forest

North East Atlantic Pack Settlement

Klaus woke up gasping, his panicked heartbeat ringing in his ears, and as his body jerked, trying to escape the phantom hold on his heart, he reached under his pillow and grasped the handle of his dagger, sweeping it out at an opponent that wasn’t there. Only then did he freeze – back braced against the bed’s headboard, blade pointed out into the dark – realising this was not the place that haunted his dreams, nor was there a familiar figure lurking in the shadows. This was his room in Lycaon’s cabin – there to the right, upon the set of drawers, were his collection of records sat next to the antique player. To the left, beside the window where the moonlight cascaded in through, stood his easel, a half-painted canvas fixed in place and paints scattered across the surfaces nearby. He was alone. He was safe. A few doors down, he could hear Lycaon’s heart beating, breathing softly in his sleep.

Klaus lowered the dagger, his shoulders slumping as he tried to catch his breath, letting the blade fall uselessly from his fingers, down onto the bedspread. The covers were a mess of tangled sheets, the rumpled duvet cast aside in his alarm, and Klaus only waited a second for his heart to calm down before pushing his legs off the bed, landing his feet on the floor. He threw the sheets completely aside, grateful for the prickle of cool, blissful air tickling his sweat-drenched skin. And then he let his head drop into his hands, trying to ignore the way they shook as he scrunched his fingers in his hair hard enough it was nearly painful, wanting the distraction. He’d let his hair grow out a little, even since arriving at Lycaon’s. Nothing as extreme as the haircuts he had sported in earlier centuries, but the strands had grown long enough to curl into their natural state, hanging over his eyes and teasing the nape of his neck. The stubble decorating his cheeks and chin was similarly a few days too old. Enough to look unkempt.

He'd been staying with Lycaon and Sam for about a week now, adamant his stay would only be temporary. But Elijah’s continued efforts to locate him had passed being a simple annoyance and crossed into dangerously hostile territory after his brother started systematically making his way through all their family’s estates, looking for Klaus with vicious efficiency, compelling the staff, even slaughtering the rare few vampires bound by loyalty when they denied him information. Elijah had even taken to, in a rare show of pettiness and rage, burning any art pieces he found, leaving the ashes for Klaus to find (or for his minions to report back about – Klaus was not foolish enough to show his face in person, well aware Elijah was trying to flush him out). Apparently, Elijah had even thrown a particularly beloved art piece Klaus painted in the 17th century into the grand fountain of their Italian Villa in Tuscany, the water running red with blood from the vampire’s head he’d thrown in with it. It was a travesty, was what it was. Four centuries worth of aged art – gone, destroyed, just like that! Not to mention competent sirelings were hard to find and trusted ones even harder. He’d have to train another one now and who had the bloody time for that?

Anger at the situation that had befallen him was good. Better, even, than the fear that was starting to creep into his chest as Elijah started to get too close, familiar with his tricks. And Klaus knew that once his brother found him, it was not a friendly chat that Elijah sought. No, Klaus knew what it felt like to be hunted, had spent centuries running from a monster after his head. This time, he knew he was not the predator in this game of cat and mouse.

Elijah didn’t just want revenge. He was out for blood.

All because Klaus had let his temper get the better of him. He’d never had a great record with it to begin with, true, but even he could admit his words spat out four decades ago had been...not quite thought all the way through.

The last century had not been his best. Ever since the fall of New Orleans, since Marcellus… and then Chicago, daggering Rebekah and saying goodbye to Stefan, Klaus had been unbalanced. Emotionally… charged. Particularly quick to ire (to which the witch coven in Spain’s Alicante province could attest to in bloody detail). His loneliness had started to gnaw at him in a way it hadn’t since his time under The Curse of the Five, spiralling into a miserable despair that was only quenched by violence. So, when his brother had found him in the cobblestoned streets of London’s supernatural underbelly, right in the middle of vampire territory, he’d been relieved to see him – until Elijah greeted him with a fierce fist to the jaw.

“Is it true?” Elijah had demanded, when he’d heaved himself to his feet after their following fight, looking down on his brother’s beaten form with barely controlled fury. “Did you do it?”

At the time, Klaus had thought he knew what had inspired Elijah’s ire. They hadn’t seen each other since that fateful night in New Orleans, where they’d split up, fleeing Mikael’s wrath in different directions hoping it would give them a better chance at escape. It had worked, but Klaus received no word from Elijah, and although that was a good sign – the news of the death of an Original by The Destroyer’s hand would not be easily silenced – he and Rebekah had spent the next decade on edge, not knowing about their brother’s state and unable to contact him, fearing Mikael’s interception. But there had been no Rebekah with him then, when Elijah found him, their sweet sister sleeping soundly in her coffin. Her absence and the implication of it (Klaus daggering Rebekah, again) was a pathetically predictable reason for Elijah’s fury.

The punch to the jaw, and quite possibly his brother’s entire stance, all high and mighty, superior in his morals and honour, had pissed Klaus off no end. So, instead of explaining why he had daggered their sister – foolishness, going back for Stefan, he had already handled it, Stefan knew nothing, he would be safe – he dragged their confrontation out, deliberately being abstruse.

“Do what? I’m afraid you’ll have to be more specific, Elijah. I’ve done a lot of things.”

“Is our family gone?” Elijah had spat at him then, losing his patience with such vitriol that Klaus had felt his eyes widen, shocked - and even slightly afraid - as his brother advanced. “Did you discard their bodies in the ocean like useless trinkets?!”

Klaus had been so thrown by the accusation, he had frozen in shock, unable to say a word in his defence. He wouldn’t- He would never do such a thing. To throw his family into the depths of the ocean, to forever be encased in a watery grave for the rest of eternity, caught in between life and death - it was a fate he feared could happen to them, not something he would do to them himself. And to see Elijah looking at him like that, like he believed Klaus was capable of such a crime, could hurt their siblings in such a way-

It was one thing to have the world see you as the villain, the monster in children’s nightmares. It was another to see yourself as such. But it was an entirely different beast to see the same condemnation on the faces you loved, the faces you trusted.

“I didn’t want to believe father. But Rebekah is not here. Kol, Finn - they are not here.” Elijah had continued, taking his stunned silence as confirmation. The mention of Mikael - the implication that Elijah had believed such a thing because Mikael had accused him of it - landed a heavier blow than Elijah ever could. What had Elijah been doing? When had he spoken to Mikael? What else had been said? “But it is true, isn’t it?”  

Klaus should have denied it. Told the truth. Pleaded with Elijah to believe him, if that was what it took.

But he had spent his life fighting other people’s beliefs. Spent his childhood trying to prove Mikael wrong, to make him believe he wasn't a weak disappointment of a boy, but a man grown, a warrior worthy of his father’s name. He’d spent his first few weeks as a vampire trying to convince his mother he wasn’t a monster, and then pleaded with her more still, when she took his wolf away, believing that with it running free, he would always be little more than a beast. An abomination. And then as the decades passed, as the centuries followed, it was not his parents he had to prove wrong, but his siblings. Finn first, who always hated what they were, but was doubly disdainful of Klaus, now knowing they were not brothers by blood. Then Elijah, who watched Klaus sacrifice his honour to protect them all, slaughtering all their enemies brutally and ruthlessly in the name of not greed or ambition, but family and found him lesser for it. Rebekah was no better. She could be as violent as the rest of them, it was true, but there was still a naivety to her. A longing to love and be loved in return. She didn’t see the risks of betrayal and heartbreak, and so when Klaus tried to protect her from it, in a way no one had protected him, she cursed him for it, turning her own back on him when it suited her. And then Kol - who never looked at Klaus with disdain or disgust, still stared at him in fear sometimes. Like he no longer recognised him.

It didn’t matter if his siblings had once stood by him when Mikael cast him out, declaring him their brother, no matter what their father decided. It didn’t matter that they promised to help him break their mother’s curse, accepting him for not just who he was, but what he was. Those words and promises were hollow when their actions no longer reinforced them.

In the end, what was the point in fighting people’s perceptions, when they would never believe you anyway?

So Klaus didn’t fight it.

Didn’t deny it.

Elijah had already decided who he was. What he was capable of.

Maybe he was right. And that? That was the worst thought of all, making him indignant with rage at the injustice of it all.

“Yes.” He had answered, voice steady in challenge, watching as his older brother’s face twisted with pain, relishing in returning an ounce of the hurt Elijah had caused him with such an accusation. 

Elijah’s words were a lie. What was one more, in the grand scheme of things?

A great deal, he came to realise.

When Elijah came at him, the raw pain on his face twisting into hate and blinding rage, Klaus had fought back just as viciously, the two of them barely walking away in one piece that night. And now, decades later, the wound of that two-sided betrayal still stretched as far and as wide as a ravine, haunting him, invading his dreams, twisting his memories into nightmares.

They were getting worse. Fear of Elijah’s pursuit or simply the familiar loneliness encroaching him on all sides made for a poor mental state. Any night, he could be haunted by ghostly echoes of the past. Henrik. The night of his first turn. The binding of his wolf. The Curse of the Five. The burning of New Orleans. The memories all swirled together, twisting into familiar and unfamiliar shapes, macabre and frightening. Sometimes Mikael thrust the white oak stake into his back as the theatre burned around him. Sometimes Kol stabbed him through the heart with a dagger tailored just for him in the middle of The Abattoir. Sometimes Rebekah left him to Mikael’s beatings, no longer coming to his defence, no longer standing between him and Mikael’s sword like she’d throw herself on it to protect him. And then sometimes, like tonight, Elijah would rip his heart out, no longer believing his lies, just like how Klaus had ripped out their mother’s. Justice served; a heart for a heart.

Klaus inhaled shakily, squeezing his eyes shut, hands clenching in his hair hard enough it hurt as he forcefully pushed such thoughts away.

[asummersday]

43, 55, and 58 for the writers ask game! <3

tumblr deleted my answer like twice for this one asjdskdsksf

43. is there a trope or idea that you’d really like to write but haven’t yet?

most ideas/tropes that i want to write and haven't yet are often longfics, because those take a lot of time and energy (see my wacky update schedule for ataimw because plot is HARD)

i want to write a casefic for another fandom i'm in, i've had the idea bouncing around my skull for a while, and maybe one day i'll get to it! i hope to!

55. have you noticed any patterns in your fics?  words/expressions that appear a lot, themes, common settings, etc?

here's a fun fact about me: i suck at noticing my own writing patterns lmao

i DID notice that for patrol scenes (especially ones that end up in like. fights) i usually put the characters in a warehouse. i think it's because it's easier to write, since a warehouse is simple enough to describe: big space, catwalks, windows if you want to break em, maybe boxes of smuggled goods idk, etc). but also it's like a good generic bad guy location

i only noticed this because a friend brought it up, but apparently when there's a lot of high tension in a scene, i tend to use italics a lot.

as for expressions uhh. that ones the hardest because i dont reread my stuff as often as i probably should, but i know that i often use stuff like "their head buzzed with static" when the character is like concussed/having a panic attack/etc

sometimes when a character is about to pass out, i like to say "they felt as if they were underwater/everything sounded muffled" etc etc

58. do you have a favorite piece of figurative language you’ve written?

ohhh i don't reread my own writing often enough to have a quick answer for that one lmao

this is a recent one, from chapter 4 of all the ashes in my wake, but i really like this bit i wrote

Donnie’s words loop around and around in his head like a record on a turntable.

ty for the ask!! 💜

fanfiction writing asks

[freedfromthegalactichivemind]

Pondering my existence in this fandom...

I am not sure how much longer I am going to be here.  Personal musings under the cut.  

Okay, ramble-time.   I am still engaging as far as reblogging some art I like and reading Sweary She-Ra, which is a nice distraction.  I have not felt at all like engaging with fan theories or fanfiction ideas or any goofy fun stuff for the last several days for reasons that should be obvious to people who regularly follow this blog.  I am grieving the loss of someone very close to me and haven’t felt much like doing anything.   I’m also in the “herding cats” mode of family and friend interaction in regards to figuring out what to do with my loved one’s things and the whens and hows of a memorial service.  A weird way in which it might tenuously link back to fandom here is that it seems like we all agree to do something that is eerily similar to how I wrote clone-funerals in my original Horde-clones series.  There are definitely differences, I had clones see each other’s bodies as important to say goodbye to and we are planning to say goodbye to ashes.  However, a lot of what we are planning is more celebratory rather than grim, recognizing all of the little things that made my nephew up as a person, an individual, especially the goofy and the geeky and not a damn priest or preacher in sight (not needed, not welcome).  There is just a little bit of spookiness here in that I wrote that stuff 1-2 years ago and it makes me wonder if something in the spiritual realm (if there is one) was preparing me for something that I did not foresee.  I just wrote those stories after a thought of “what would happen with clones on Etheria post-canon in terms of remembering their fellows who lived and died without names and freedom” and they wound up being this whole entire thing in which I was contemplating my thoughts on death and it came... completely out of the blue.  These stories were not prompted by losing someone and having to deal with it.  They came before it and were like some kind of preparatory course.   And it’s some very off-canon fanfiction for a dumb cartoon.   I’ve found myself fading just a little for this fandom, even before this event.  I had lost most of my “friends” in it and was lingering on (making the new blog here) in part out of a sense of spite.  A “No, you don’t get to kick me out.”  I’ve had an awkward relationship with it, feeling like I just can’t review fanfic and art by a number of people (not just people who’ve blocked me) but over on Ao3 and such because “Okay, is this person I only ever kind of sort of knew, barely knew or even is new to the fandom going to enjoy a compliment from me, or are they going to be one of those people who erase all of my reviews?”  There are people in this fandom whom I didn’t even know / new to the fandom who didn’t see me have a meltdown who have treated me thusly - blocks review-deletion because, apparently people have talked about me, spread rumors and some people just don’t judge people for themselves.  This has left me over the past year feeling very awkward, even afraid to engage with new people in this fandom and with old hands who weren’t involved with the people I was fighting with with the “Am I bothering people?” idea, a feeling of being gatekept.  I know for a fact that the person who runs the Entrapdak fandom-events has blocked this blog (although only barely knew her), which means to see event-calendars, I’ve had to rely on reblogs by the fandom at large or my non-fandom viewer blog.  And, oh, yes, I’ve done Entrapdak-work, using the calendars out of spite.  Like “You might try to gatekeep me, I’m here, anyway.”   However, I have felt some of this spite fading.  I didn’t want to do the Entrapdak-Month (full month) this year because I’d felt a little tired for big fandom-events after doing a Legend of Zelda work prompt month and doing some of the mini-Entrapdak things. I felt like just writing what I want at my own pace and didn’t see any prompts in the collection that struck me with much inspiration.   If I had been planning on participating, I definitely would have dropped it, because of the tragedy in my life.  As it is, the one little fanfic I was working on is on hiatus indefinitely and I might take it down.  (Not that it has more than one or two readers who don’t review, as it’s a Horde-clone centric fic without Hordak and Horde Prime is only mentioned).  Also, it’s a general fic, lacking any hot Horde Prime x clones or clone on clone action (I’ve always felt a little weird in the clone-fandom for definitely not being into that).   What is more is that I am feeling ashamed right now for having too much of my life taken over by this fandom.  I got in touch with an old friend.  I hadn’t talked with her in a while because I thought she was too busy for me.  It turns out that she had avoided me because she’d thought that I’d abandoned her for this fandom. We misunderstood each other.  I got hyperfixated on She-Ra and she was not interested in it at all and I got too into my “She-Ra friends” (most of whom turned out to not be friends at all in the end) and had neglected my friendship with her.  I, in turn, had thought she had gotten too busy with her work and family-life.  I told her about my nephew because she had known him - not too well, but she’d met him.  (She reminded me that, yeah, we’d all played Cards Against Humanity together - good God, my memory’s a bunch of Swiss cheese).  We got to talking - I wanted to reconnect.  Matt was basically my best friend, a constant in my life and we’d had our insular little family and I really need to rekindle with friends / this has made me realize that I need more real friends in my life.  This friend and I used to be close before getting busy and my stupid hyperfixation drifted us apart.  She was actually mad at me.  I basically did the Entrapta “Are you mad at me?” type of speaking.  (And informed her of my autism diagnosis, which i think is pretty much why I don’t read between the lines well at all and didn’t realize that she was actively avoiding me).  This was a whole mess, but... we are talking again.  It’s horrible that it’s a death that got us back to talking, but I do want to do the things I used to do with her, like our silly Legend of Zelda / Fire Emblem Awakening roleplays, and maybe if we mutually play Kid Icarus again (fandom where we’d met) we can have something again.  Or she might realize she’s mad at me again.  I do not know.   As it is, I feel embarrassed that I’d let this fandom do this to us.  I was a bad friend to someone who was an actual, real friend who cared about me for the sake of a bunch of fake friends here, my silly shipping-interest in something she just didn’t vibe with.  Ultimately, my “friends” here scolded me when I was having clear mental health issues (and no, I am not claiming uwu victim blamelessness here, I was an asshole to some people on the Discords, but people whom I thought I was actual friends with who could clearly see I was in danger are what I’m talking about here)... And, well, I got accused of plagiarism over a mistake, continuing accusations of that after I thought the misunderstanding had been cleared up and I’d done what I was supposed to do to resolve the situation in regards to eliminating joint-fanwork, and ultimately someone infulential in the fandom doing a callout post on tumblr calling upon the entire Entrapdak fandom to not talk to me, telling everyone that I was just a manipulative bitch and insinuating that my very clear and public suicidal ideation was being faked.  In other words, my “friends” in this fandom drove me to a stay in a psychiatric hospital which... was actually more traumatizing to me than the events I am describing here.   Meanwhile, my late nephew was the one who contacted people to SAVE MY LIFE and my friend whom I was drifting away from because of the stupid fandom found out about what happened and was concerned for me and asked about me, even though she hadn’t talked to me in a while at that point.  I regret not being a better friend to her.  Reconciling might actually mean me giving up this fandom.  (No, she has nothing in particular against it, it’s just... it being a thing that sucked me away from her).   I probably will still participate some, because I like the show, the themes and the characters, but I’m realizing now that a lot of my new friends in this fandom are kind of arm’s-length friends still.  I’m not in any core friend-group and I really don’t know any of you all that well.  Certain former “friends” are absolute shit and Fuck You.  (You won’t see this, you’ve blocked me).  Some of my fandom-participation is just habit, or even a bit of spite, which is fading.   I know who my true friends are.  I have just lost one due to his health problems, which I had no control over.  I lost another one due to entirely my own fault and I’m trying to get her back.  I expect to become less and less interested in this fandom that has been incredibly painful for me as time goes on.   Thank you  / apologies for listening to my ramble if you clicked on it. 

[bemusedlybespectacled]

Hihi 😃👋🏾

1 What was the first fandom and/or pairing that you wrote fic for?

8 Do you listen to music while you write? If so, share a song that’s been inspiring you lately.

17 What fic are you most proud of?

1. What was the first fandom and/or pairing that you wrote fic for?

Eragon. Not even joking. My first couple of fics that I wrote as fanfiction on purpose were the type of jokey list fics that were popular on LJ at the time (like "101 Things I Will Not Do At Hogwarts"), except FF.net didn't allow fics that were solely lists, so I got around that by having the list and then a little blurb of actual plot at the bottom demonstrating the things on the list.

8. Do you listen to music while you write? If so, share a song that’s been inspiring you lately.

I don't typically listen to music while writing – it's distracting most of the time – but I do get inspired by songs. Most recently I have been listening to Dust & Ashes from Natasha, Pierre, and the Great Comet of 1812 and having deep thinky thoughts about how it's a perfect Stede song.

17. What fic are you most proud of?

Hands down The Retrieval Job. It's my most polished and longest fic and I spent a lot of time trying to get the show beats exactly right.

Secondmost one is actually The Vinegar and Honey Affair. It's apparently really well-liked in the greater TMFU fandom and I had no idea. XD

[beyondthetemples-ooc]

You know how I said I'm back on my Pokemon bullshit?

The internet's working well enough to watch episodes on my phone if I don't mind it freezing every now and again!

Yesterday it was letting me joltingly watch short youtube clips. I found a site that seems to be loading quite well though! And apparently there's new Misdreavus content in the newest season, so, you know. Hyperfixation mode, ACTIVATE!

I'm gonna ramble a little, okay? Okay.

I'm being a total Ghost Pokemon nerd and smiling at the Gengar (the voice acting for the Pokemon in this season is really good actually, still says their names but sounds a bit more animalistic and they have LOTS of personality!), also grimacing at the guy who abandoned it and said nothing but bad things happened when he had it, and I'm not gonna lie, the story of abandonment and ghosts being blamed for someone's bad luck are really close to my heart because I've invested a lot of emotion in a story like that with my fanfiction.

(The Misdreavus I gave my trainersona was abandoned and the Mismagius has a serious Problem^tm with the way humans treat her species. And humans in general really, which also probably softened my heart to this particular episode, which also involves character developement for the Gengar on not trusting humans... I got legitimately Mad about that trainer. Nexus mode activated too, apparently.)

Makes me wonder though. That Gengar was Very powerful, they made a point of both showing And telling that. How did it get so strong with a trainer that said he couldn't win battles while he had it? Was it already powerful before he captured it?

Fun canonical tidbit though that ghosts besides Mismagius can curse humans, so that's fun.

And the way Misdreavus is animated in this season is so fun??? Both the "hair" and the "dress" twirling around constantly, that's neat! (And the little sparkle in those eyes I adore so much!) I mean, having spent the vast majority of my life around animals, I already have a sort of default Writing Mode with Creatures Being Expressive and like. Alive. I played so much Pokemon Stadium 2 and Pokemon Battle Revolution, and also played with Misdreavus so much in Pokemon Amie and Refresh, that my brain defaults to imagining them flowing and waving anyways. Despite how the anime and movies have them just... static and sliding around. I imagine, for a levitating ghost type, they emote through body language that is also affected by the way they flutter around!

Why yes, I HAVE thought about this very deeply for 15 years, how can you tell? ;P

Seriously though, writing Pokemon emoting has always been one of my greatest strengths with that fanfiction. And that was a fact well before Amie!!!

Also, sidenote, note to self: I need to slip in something about Jess hearing of a haunted Pokemon lab at some point. Maybe. I tried keeping count of how long the Gengar was waiting and I THINK I counted three years, and there are boyfriend-instigated plans to meet up with Ash n co a la Sinnoh Seasons later in the fic, so I have to figure out if I'm going to care about the timelines on that in regards to Ash's canon... Probably not though.

[m0ther-of-p3arl]

alright man.... alright... you asked for it!!! here is literally everything in my entire brain right now (hope i'm not oversharing or anything lol, just following the prompt :3c)

I am ranking fanfiction! it's very fun. i'm using a whole rainbow of colors, because it reminds me of a tierlist and tierlists are fun as fuck. there's something nice about systematically putting things into little boxes, you know? it soothes my mind. the monotony of it, but also, i get to go back and reminisce about everything i've written.

i'm going to a lovejoy concert the day after tomorrow, which i'm super hyped about. It's going to be my very first live music experience, so i'm really really excited about that. i'm especially excited to see ash kabosu because i think he's cool as fuck

my chosen brother who lives in australia thinks i might have adhd and/or autism (he has both), and he has for over half a year now. i don't know how to feel about it because i don't want to be insensitive or self-diagnose or anything. he thinks i should tell my parents or therapist about it, but i just don't know how to bring it up because anxiety fucks me over all the time

my room is a fucking mess and i like it that way, because it feels homely. my mom wants me to clean it, though. she likes things neat but i don't want to clean it because it's MY room and i like it when there are clothes all over the floor and charging cables littering the grounds. it makes for a better writing environment.

i really like to write, did you know that?? writing and playing guitar are the two most important thigns ever actually. i started playing guitar a few months ago and fell in love.

i should put more stuff up on my walls, my room feels empty. lots of places feel empty, though. you know school classrooms? and all the shit they put on the walls? all the motivational posters and word-definition posters and stuff? it just feels so fake. it gives me the ick. so does sitting at tables/desks, i pretty much exclusively sit on the floor and idk if that's normal but like. i just prefer to sit on the linoleum fucking floor without any cushioning or anyting, if there's carpet then i won't sit on the floor.

there's a mirror hanging from my door that's stained with blood because one time i had a bloody nose and accidentally wiped some on there. it's all gross and brown now. i can't be bothered to clean it up, call me disgusting, but i just do not have the energy man. there's a harry potter book sitting on my floor. i should burn it

i got to stay home from school today and watch owengejuicetv live!! two streams in a row, which absolutely never happens. it was super fun to actually be a part of chat. i still like watching vods, though. i know a lot of people dislike them, but they're really not that much different. the only thing i absolutely cannot vodwatch is mcc. idk why lol

my dad is such a lovely lovely man

whenever i type "lovely" i automatically almost type "lovejoy" it's because im a nerd for this band and my fingers have muscle memory apparently. when i handwrite, i write with my whole fist. i death grip that motherfucker of a writing utensil.

sweaters are nice and underrated, but i still like hoodies more because the hood is the best thing. sometimes my friends call me emo. then i punch htem in the arm and we laugh at each other.

my walls are this gross banana-yellow color and i wish they weren't

ALRIGHT THAT"S IT THATS ALL YOU GET. hope you enjoy this screenshot of my brain (literally this is my brain all the time ever i jump from one subject to the next CONSTANTLY omg.) i hope this was some help?? hopefully?? idk i just kinda rambled but

o7 to the void it goes

(good luck finding lyrics!!!! we're rooting for ya :D

I SUMMON THY MOOTS

please....just shit out ALL of your thoughts to me. i wanna make a pogger guitar song but im shit out of luck with lyrics. This literally requires everyone i know to help me.

MSR fucked my brain. trust me, ANYTHING YOU WANT GOES, i get ideas from the craziest of places. tell me what you ate for dinner, a heartbreak or relationship, your theories about aliens. like i said, anything goes.

even people i dont tag feel free to join...

@19-cats-in-a-trenchcoat @wiblursaystuff @zubinflower69 @thinkingaboutctommy @gay-mooshrooms @paldeanbooper @thetiredyuk @temporaltourguide @duckwithacapitald @strangleetomz @felixisfruity @paradox-hq @fraudfrogz

@wormsinsdirt @tntduowo @ender-outlaw @demon-and-genshin-men-slvt @ace-the-internet-ruined-me @yes-i-think-ranboo-is-beautiful @vibestillaxxx

@asinglepackofwelches @dead--hate-deactivated20231004 @salineroses @redak-tedalt @awokenbydreams @localinsaneman @theverywest @coffeeflavored-tears @rottinnymph @1tzzbr1ght @call-me-frosting-or-not-idc @joethebeau @goosebeing @mayhem-moth @agentldiddy @unkn0wn-nys @a-random-mooshroom @sadgayenbyfrog @dicklessswonder

@unfairtradeyward @whaaaaaaaalllle6 @portalkittysilly @m0ther-of-p3arl @sunshinetrinket @dzikiemaliny @thefairfeline @ranboosoot @aparanoidcryptid @jinx---blackout---84 @shortgaything @sleepy-cat-maniac @particle70 @when-you-cant-think-of-anything @gguapoduo @ezra-767 @officialsoupstore @nictophobia @dumbartist101 @alex-your-local-genshin-player @emi-writings @genlossicle

@catboy-quackity @theborblord @skretri @klownxd @ink-n-stuff @wtfables @bastianfruit @elmarcyarka @g1gglee-rxccoon @cromatheskeleton @kotaishere @nyx-can-draw @wilbyscoot @sootings-fag

@butter-goat @im-an-otter-with-a-dark-side @idk-why-i-have-this @mcytiddies @cheeeseborgor @toulouseradiosilence @skellyrrosedesigns @glowinggayduo @beef-fajitas @shr00marts @quinnsstars @haunted-headset

plz help ;-;

[pixelsandpins]

I just spent this afternoon and early morning writing the most self-indulgent 2495 words I’ve ever written because I was stressed as hell. 

It’s also on Ao3, but heck to tumblr and their links not showing in tags apparently. Here it is, under the cut. 

A Year Later: Hugo

(A @dreamdaddygame ficlet)

Dadsona/Hugo (Obvs)

Teen, Fluff (mild cursing and slight innuendo)"And this one's called a camel clutch."

The entirety of Hugo's weight is on my lumbar, and his hands are threaded under my chin, pulling my head back.

It's awful.

When we were still on leg locks, it was sexy. Now it's just a literal pain in my ass...and neck...and back. But it makes him happy, and I'm only a little sorer than usual the next day.

"How's that feel? Do you like that stretch, honey?"

Oh my god, he's getting a sick kick out of this, isn't he?

"Ew. Really?"

When I look up, Ernest is standing in the doorway of the office looking down at us with a very particular shade of contempt. Hugo drops my chin and immediately moves off of me.

"It's not what it looks like. We were just wrest-"

"Wrestling. I know. Gross."

Ernest starts walking off.

"Wait!" Hugo calls out, and Ernest leans back lazily to appear in the doorframe again. "How was your weekend with Mike?"

"Fine. We went to the water park, and he bought me some games."

"That's great. So you had fun?"

"Yeah sure." Ernest shrugs and stomps off down the hall. We can hear the door to his room slam.

Hugo hops onto his feet, then pulls me up, being sure to give me a quick peck on the lips along the way. I could definitely stand for something a little heavier, but we both know we need to get dinner started.

The thing I had underestimated most when Amanda left for college was my willingness to actually cook a meal for one. I had been living on nachos and salami sandwiches for a solid six weeks until Hugo had soundly chastised me into eating dinner with him and Ernest as much as I wanted. This certainly made it easier when Amanda told me she'd gotten an internship that would be keeping her there for the summer.

I like to think that in the year Hugo and I've been together, Ernest has come to at least tolerate my presence, but it's so hard to tell with that kid.

When I help with dinner, my duties generally consist of leaning back against the sink and looking pretty. Maybe occasionally passing Hugo a spice or two. This time's no different, but there seems to be an extra bit of tension in Hugo's shoulders as he lifts a pot out of the cabinet and fills it with water.

"Something's bugging you. What is it?"

"Just...the usual," Hugo sighs. "I get...frustrated. I don't mind Mike taking him out to do fun things, but I just wish he'd leave something for me. It undermines my authority when he can just go to his other dad's and get the things that he has to earn from me." Hugo places the pot down hard on the stove and sets it to boiling. "And you know I've talked to him about it."

I did know this. Intimately. I had heard half of multiple heated conversations about it.

"I wish there was something I could do to help."

Hugo moves away from the stove and comes to stand in front of me at the sink. His fingertips find the counter top on either side of my hips, his chest pressing against mine. He leans in and gives me a quick peck that turns into the something more that I was pretty keen on before. He pulls away and rests his forehead on my shoulder.

"It's enough that I have someone to bitch about it to." He kisses me under the bottom edge of my jaw. Then my neck. Then the edge my collarbone under my shirt.

"EWWWWWW. IN THE KITCHEN? REALLY? I'd rather you go back to wrestling." Ernest is standing in the doorway of the kitchen. Hugo makes a clear point of not backing away from me this time.

"Spaghetti will be ready in about twenty minutes, so don't get too into one of your games or anything."

Ernest rolls his eyes and goes back to his room, again.

 When I get out of the shower later, Hugo is sitting in the middle of the bed staring down in irritation at his phone. He's only put his boxers back on which is just excellent, really, but anger doesn't look good on him.

"Boop." I press a finger to the space between his crinkled brows. "What's goin' on, teach? Someone about to get detention?" Hugo tosses the phone onto the bed and rubs his eyes under his glasses.

"One of the games that Ernest brought home. It was one I specifically told Mike not to get him, so I texted him, and he says 'oh, I'm sorry, it was a gift that my boyfriend got him.' And I just….we had an agreement. We had an agreement that if either of us brought new people around, we'd get to meet them first before Ernest. And he's been good about it before, you know? I know he's dated people. But it's like...as Ernest gets older, Mike thinks he can just let up on the rules, and now is the WORST time for that. We need to be able to show solidarity if Ernest is going to get his act together."

"Well, I mean….to be fair, I've never met Mike after all this time." I sit down on the bed next to him, careful to arrange my towel to not get the sheets wet. Hugo leans on my shoulder.

"That's different. You already knew Ernest because we were friends and neighbors. And I told Mike when we started dating for real. I even invited him to come meet you, and he could never find the time. Because he's a dick." Hugo lets out a huge exhale that rattles his whole body.

"From what I've heard, Mike's always been kind of a dick, right? Is this some advanced tier dickage we're dealing with?"

Hugo chuckles a little.

"No. I think...I think this time, it's possible, that I might be the dick."

"Whatchu mean?"

He sighs one of those impossible sighs again.

"Nothing. You staying over?"

"Why do you always ask that? Because you know I am."

"I know. I just like hearing you say it."

He bites my ear a little then runs his tongue along the inside of the outer ridge.

"Hugo. I don't have another round in me, and if you keep doing that…"

And he keeps doing that. And I'm already apologizing to my future self for how sore I'm going to be in the morning.

 I'm waist deep in a marathon of Doomsday Wedding Planner when there's a knock on the door. Hugo's got meetings after school, so I know it's not him. It's rare he comes here, anyway; I'm the one who goes to his place. When I go to answer, then, I'm not sure who to expect. And yet, still, I didn't expect Ernest to be standing there, bored looking with his school bag hanging off his elbows.

"Uh...hey," he drawls. Then he just stands there. Waiting for…something...I guess.

"Did you want to come in?"

Ernest shrugs and pushes past me into the living room, flopping down into the recliner. He still doesn't say anything until I sit down on the couch catty corner to him.

"I heard you and Hugo talking last night," he says with pretty much no pre-anticipation.

Oh, he heard us talking. Oh god, then he probably heard everything. OH GOD, THEN HE'S PROBABLY HEARD EVERYTHING THIS WHOLE TIME.

A year's worth of mortification sets in as one lump sum.

"Is he mad at Mike about his new boyfriend?" Ernest asks, staring at the now muted TV as it flashes through a montage of the chicest wedding chapels/bomb shelters on the east coast.

"No, kid. It's just...grown up stuff. Why are you asking me, though? Should really be talking to your dad about it."

"Because he'll say what you just did. That it's grown up stuff. Does he think I can't handle it? It's really fucking annoying, honestly." He rests his head on his hand.

Well, shit. I have to do some unexpected dadding, and I'm not even wearing my dad pants. Frankly, Ernest should be glad I'm wearing pants at all considering my usual lounge attire. Amanda was usually pretty easy with this sort of thing. I almost shared too much with her, though, I guess.

"Okay. Well, I'm not one of your dads, so will a man to man talk work?"

He looks as me for the first time, dropping his arm onto the armrest and raising his eyebrows. I guess that means I should keep going.

"Being a parent is...hard…"

Wow. Elegant.

"Luckily, you've got a partner. You're a team. You can work together. You argue, yeah, and disagree on how things should be done, but, generally, you've got each other's backs. When you're a single parent, though, it's even harder. You're doing a job meant to be a team as one person. It's...well...it's fuckin' rough, dude. Seriously."

I can't believe I'm swearing in front of my boyfriend's son. Whatever. It's not the worst he's ever heard from me, apparently. OH GOD I'M REMEMBERING, AGAIN.

"And the trick is that we're not supposed to let you guys know any of this is happening. We're supposed to sort of just keep everything under control without you ever knowing that we're all really just playing it by ear. Anyway, your dads pretty much have the worst of both worlds in a lot of ways. They've got all the bickering over how to raise you, but they're both trying to do it alone." When I started I had no idea where this was going, but hell if this isn't some damn fine fathering I'm doing. "So, I guess what I'm trying to get at is that there's some stuff that parents and grown ups have to deal with, but we don't want to worry our kids with it. And we don't tell you not because we don't think you can't handle it. We just don'twant you to have to handle it. It's not your job. It's ours. Am I-uh-making sense?" He's in his default bored face, so I can't tell if he's actually listening.

"So Hugo's not mad at Mike?" Earnest says flatly. I pinch the bridge of my nose.

"Hugo's got some…concerns related to Mike, but no, he's not, necessarily, mad. And he's certainly not mad about Mike's new boyfriend. So just...let dad take care of this one, okay? You don't need to worry about it. That's what we're here for."

Ernest stares off and away, thinking…maybe? It seems like a slightly different shade of apathetic, at least.

"But, you know, you can always talk to Hugo. He'll listen. Or...me...you know...maybe...if it's weird talking to him…" I add hastily, just a little worried about the door I'm leaving open.

"Okay." He's says it short and sweet, gets up out of the chair, and robots his way to the door, avoiding eye contact the entire time. "See you later tonight, I guess." The door half-slams behind him when he leaves.

 It's a week later when, instead of retreating to his room with his plate, Ernest sits with us at dinner. Hugo and I stop playing footsie under the table immediately to look at him.

"I haven't actually met Mike's boyfriend, yet. I know you were mad about that, but you shouldn't be. But Mike's got a bunch of pictures of him, though, and he told me about him and stuff. And he said that if it was okay with you, he wants me to, like, meet him." Ernest goes silent after having his say.

"Well, okay. I'm fine with that. I'll e-mail him later." Hugo darts a few quick glances at me, unsure. Ernest pushes his food around his plate a bit.

"I think we should all, like, get together. You guys and Mike. Just...together. Everyone." He pushes his outstretched fingers together to make them interlock a few times. "Because...I don't like it when you and Mike fight. You guys get pissy with each other and you think I don't know, but I do. Like, I'm not stupid. So I just thought...Well, I mean, we're supposed to all be a team right? We're supposed to work together...and stuff...or...something."

It's apparent Ernest is struggling to properly convey big thoughts with small words and growing a little frustrated with himself that he can't properly.

"Ernest," Hugo says softly. He reaches out across the table and places his hand in top of his son's. He looks like he wants to pull away but doesn't. "If that's what you want I'm more than happy to oblige. I'll talk to him tonight."

"Cool," Ernest replies. He pulls his hand away, picks up his plate, then vanishes like a ghost into the back of the house. The door closes quietly.

"You did something," Hugo accuses.

"Why the very idea. I'm offended you would even suggest such a thing." I flick my fork at him in defiance.

Hugo smiles at me.

"Did you father my son in my absence?"

"Again, I'm utterly shocked you would think so little of me."

He puts his hand on my thigh.

"Whatever it was, thank you. Really." He leans in and kisses me on the cheek.

"I didn't really do anything," I admit. "He just asked some questions and we just sort of...talked."

"And he listened, so you must be some kind of teenage boy whisperer."

"I'm just not his dad, is all. You remember what it was like to be that age. There are just some things you feel weird talking to your parents about, and I'm not his parent. I'm just some guy."

"Hm. Well, you're a little closer than you realize, I think." He waggles his eyebrows at me a bit.

"I don't-uh-what do you mean?"

"He included you in that 'us' earlier. And he came to you, didn't he? And he certainly sees you more than his other dad, nowadays." Hugo flashes half a grin at me.

"You know I was just getting used to not having to parent, anymore. No one told me I was going to have to put in a few extra years. And with a boy, of all things."

"If he starts calling you 'dad' before me, I'm going to lose it."

"Hey, if you need someone to call you 'daddy,' I can help you out."

Hugo stares me down over the top of his glasses.

"Oh? Really?" His lips meet mine then pull away slightly. "We can always give it a test run." When he kisses me again, the tip of his tongue touches my teeth. Then I remember and push him away just a little.

"I think you might need to consider some possible sound proofing options."

[robo-cryptid]

Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: Overwatch (Video Game) Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Elizabeth Caledonia Ashe/Sombra | Olivia Colomar, Elizabeth Caledonia Ashe/Jesse McCree, Elizabeth Caledonia Ashe & Jesse McCree, Elizabeth Caledonia Ashe/Doomfist: The Successor | Akande Ogundimu Characters: Elizabeth Caledonia Ashe, Jesse McCree, Sombra | Olivia Colomar, Doomfist: The Successor | Akande Ogundimu Additional Tags: Character Study, Past Relationship(s), Family Issues, Doom and Calamity is the endgame here, Trust Issues Summary:

Love is a verb. Her parents taught her that early on: said one thing and did another, so she knew which was the truth. They didn’t even try to find her when she left. She took their butler and everything, and they still didn’t come looking. If she’d needed more proof, that’s where it was.

Love is in the doing, and they did fuckall.

---

Patreon subscribers got to read this fic last week. You can get early access to fics by becoming a patron for as little as $2 a month! For $5+ a month, you get to help me decide what the rewards will be!

[myotomespace]

Lancelot’s sip of temptation continuation:

As the title says, this is an extension of the ending of the story with my mc... i'm not sure why the hell i wrote it in the first place but here we are .w."

WC: 476

Warning: none

Tagging: @alloveroliver Because you told me to tell you and to thank you again for helping me :3

The next morning, however, was a nightmare.

“Ugh” Sylvie groaned, head resting on the dining table, her eyes closed to prevent the light from making her feel any sicker than she already was.

Kyle entered the room, raising his eyebrow at the sight that met him. “What’s this? Hungover, huh? Hang in there.”

“Please don’t rub it in, Kyle.” She could hear the amusement in his voice…And he was right. Normally, you’d only find Kyle in this position every morning.

(I’ll never try to get Lancelot drunk again! He’d just drink me under the table like last night.)

That morning, the number of hangovers in the Red Army’s headquarters increased by one.

A few minutes later, two of the officers headed into the dining room and were greeted, by not only Kyle but ALSO Sylvie, laying unceremoniously on the table, so ill for this beautiful sunny morning.

Edgar looked very amused, while Jonah next to him was confused for a good minute before he stomped over to Kyle, intent on lecturing him.

“Kyle! What have you done to Sylvie? How dare you get her into your unhealthy habit?”

“Stop screaming, it’s too early! And I did nothing, why are you blaming me?” he groaned, his eyebrows scrunching at Jonah’s loud voice.

“It’s not early. It’s almost 10 am-” Edgar corrected, moving to sit on his chair-“Did you have fun drinking with our king, Alice?”

“H-How did you know? …Ugh…” Sylvie raised her head too fast from the surprise, which she immediately regretted as a wave of dizziness hit her. “I think I’m going back to my room…” She stood up and left before Jonah could start lecturing her too.

A few hours later…

“How are you feeling, Alice?”

A worried Lancelot visited her after being informed about her miserable state by Jonah and Edgar.

“I’m better, thank you!” she opened her eyes slowly, still laying on her bed, deciding that it might not be wise to sit up.

“I’m sorry…I should have paid attention to how much you were drinking.” He moved to sit beside her on the bed, smoothing her hair slightly with his hand.

“Please, don’t apologize!” She declared quickly, trying to reassure him “it’s my fault. I should have stopped when it got too much for me, but…” She looked up at him, a gentle, almost shy smile on her face, and continued. “I love spending my time with you King Lancelot, and yesterday was no exception.”

She was too cute for own good sometimes.

He couldn’t stop himself from pressing a light, lingering kiss on her forehead. “I enjoy spending my time with you too, Sylvie.”

“Get some more sleep. I’ll visit you again later.” He stated, standing up and heading for the door. “Okay” She closed her eyes, and let sleep claim her, her smile joining her to her sweet dreams.

[calxiyn]

Did anyone consider, I don’t know, talking to me personally before writing an analysis on “why I’ve turned out the way I have”, or is it just me that thinks maybe that would be a good idea?

Usually I wouldn’t go out of my way to comment on things like this, but it’s always weird to be a person who lives a relatively normal life (going to University, working part-time jobs, etc) and seeing people on Tumblr go back and forth about you without even speaking to you first (except for Ashely, who has the only post with information in this string that is entirely 100% true). I know this is a normal thing for big YouTubers but considering I’m not this giant 100,000 subscriber YouTuber, it’s still weird to see people psycho-analyzing me and using me as some sort of prop for their analysis posts about RWDE/FNDM stuff.

So for the record:

In Terms of Swap’s initial post:

Remember, Calxiyn wasn’t always a bigoted RWDE, 

What exactly makes me a “bigoted” RWDE? What about our videos, since the Cinder Rewrite, has shown any bigotry? I wouldn’t even consider myself RWDE in the first place, because I’m still a big fan of the show, but is someone automatically bigoted because they are also in “RWDE”? What is the reason for this lol. Is it being friends with some of the critical RWBYTubers? Because if you really paid attention you’d know I don’t interact with the ACTUAL bigoted ones (like AA, who has a documented history of saying shit that is actually horrible).

she was bullied out of leftist communities because ONE anti-crit accused her of being an Ironwood stan when her rewrite of Cinder’s backstory showed that Atlas’ societal issues predated him.

There’s a nugget of truth in this, but I still think the post is greatly exaggerated. I do think this is a real, documented issue inside and outside of FNDM. People who care about social justice are run out of certain communities online for not being “good enough” “aware enough” or for being ignorant about certain things, even if we are part of the groups we are fighting for (Being genderfluid, bisexual, having ‘AuDHD’ etc) and willing to own up to our own ignorance. Marginalized people who are not speaking with malicious intent and are willing to learn are held to much higher scrutiny and are quicker to be attacked than their non-marginalized counterparts. I’ve always felt that Hunter and I have unfairly gotten a lot more shit compared to a lot of the male/straight RWBYTubers. The Ironwood stan thing isn’t even true in the first place, as OP said, but yeah, with other things, I think it’s been a real problem.

But still I don’t consider myself ‘bullied out’ of anywhere. Especially not because of one person or a handful of people. It was incredibly annoying, but it hasn’t stopped us from being in the community/making videos or writing 100,000 word RWBY fanfiction.

She became a bigoted RWDE because the RWDEs were the only people willing to support her after she was cancelled over a bad faith reading of something she wrote for fun to show her love for RWBY. She LOVED the show until the fandom ruined it for her.

It’s just a cartoon, it’s not worth ruining someone’s life over.

I... appreciate the sentiment? But this also just isn’t true. The Cinder rewrite was well received among my usual audience. It has a 96.5% like to dislike ratio. Though I agree with the sentiment you shouldn’t ruin people’s life over a show, I wouldn’t consider myself cancelled, or that my life was ‘ruined’. It’s also not true that only “RWDEs” were “willing to support me” I’m still friends with ThatKaitoDan, Jeremy, RWBYTuber Arryn (who works on the SHOW, like...). They were the ones at my birthday party stream the past week. MurderOfBirds is still my boyfriend (though apparently some people think he’s RWDE now too, so maybe that doesn’t matter). Point being, there was no mass exodus of positive RWBYTubers from my life, or exodus of my regular RWBY fan viewers. There was just a stink about it on Tumblr for people who have probably never even seen my videos anyway, and already don’t want to give Hunter and I a chance. So I try not to let it get to me, because people who aren’t willing to make up their own mind, decide for themselves if they like what Hunter and I have to say etc, aren’t worth it.

I’m not even going to bother replying to Lilith in that much detail because they made this post about themselves for no reason. It was CanonSeeker and another person on Tumblr that I can’t even remember who started the Ironwood apologist thing. However, I want to know how I have a tendency to “White wash” when Lilith tried pulling a ‘gotcha’ on multiple critics like EF and Vexed for being “Straight white men criticizing x or y” when EF is Asian, and Vex is Black. Vexed especially got a lot of shit for criticizing the White Fang plot line a few years ago, “as a white man” - even from other “positive” White RWBYTubers, and people didn’t call out those White RWBYTubers for speaking over a Black man until Arnold and I pointed it out. But anyway.

Who have I Whitewashed? Is this about a character or IRL people? What gets me about these posts is that there are no sources for anything and no one is questioning where any of this is coming from. You’re just supposed to know all the lore, I guess.

In regards to EF, though: I don’t think one cringey, stupid joke makes you a deeply rooted bigot. I think the “swapping crotch snot” thing is childish, but I also don’t think it’s homophobic. The sentiment of “swapping spit” or “swapping (NSFW fluid)” is not something that is exclusive to a sapphic pairing. Hunter and I have jokingly talked about characters being too busy “getting dicked down” or “sticking their dick in crazy” to do x or y (like, a character is too busy being thirsty to see the danger right in front of them in an anime/show). I’m pretty sure people have, even people who worked on the show, have joked about Ozpin sticking his dick in crazy. That doesn’t mean we’re some puritans who hate sex, are slut shaming, or that those people are victim blaming (in the case of Ozpin and Salem in V6 for example). Now if there’s something else he did or said I don’t know about, that’s a different story, but I don’t think this one thing he said makes him a bigot or hateful. If he’d say it about a straight couple, which I’m pretty sure he also did (about Ozpin?), and people have an equal issue with that, fine, maybe he’s an equal opportunity asshole. But he’s not a homophobe. First and foremost, I think people should be defined on how they treat real LGBT+ people - and I don’t interact with EF outside of RTX, but I think someone who was genuinely hateful wouldn’t be as respectful in private in the conversations we’ve had about things like identity/relationships/pronouns etc. Especially when as a giant channel he has more power - if he was really a jerk, he wouldn’t have to “put up appearances” in private to someone with less than half his sub count. He could just be a jerk and get away with it. But I think it’s important to note, people like CanonSeeker say I “constantly defend EF” when it was really just this one time when someone had said something obscene to ME directly about me being with him at RTX. If the critics do something wrong, I’m gonna call them out. I already unfollowed FMF because his edge toward RWBY fans (like the person who was showing the show to their roommate) was getting too annoying for me. I’m not a doormat who is just accepting all these horrible things because that’s all I have left. If something bothers me, or if I think something is wrong, I do something about it.

I was referring to canonseeker, who stalked Calxiyn on Discord via multiple alt accounts to punish her for writing a rewri, and was only caught because they accidentally used the wrong “character” with the wrong account.

In case you ever wondered why Calxiyn kept accusing you of being canonseeker’s alt, the answer is paranoia born from personal experience and psychological trauma.

That doesn’t excuse her actions at all, but the fact that a large part of the fandom sided with her stalker and abuser simply because they were defending the show while she was perceived as bashing it is a large part of the reason WHY she turned out the way she did.

In terms of this, yeah, I would say that’s all accurate. Not even mentioning that CanonSeeker is still spreading lies about Hunter and I being bigoted/queerphobic and whatever else (which is actively dangerous for us as LGBT+ people).

But I also still think this is an over-exaggeration. Hunter and I are still here, we still love the show. We covered IQ, we’ve done videos since the Cinder Rewrite. I wrote a 100,000 word RWBY fanfic over the spring. I don’t know where this “turned out the way she did” thing is even coming from - we’ve been making the exact same content we’ve always had, albeit, not as often because I’m a University student in a super intense program, and the hiatus has left things a little dry.

The reason why I wrote all this out is more-so because, has anyone actually like, considered the fact that they could join my Discord Server and talk to me like a normal person, and ask me about this things? Because these posts seem more like people want to use “Calxiyn” as more of a prop or a “concept”, an object to further their own point about RWDE/Anti-RWDE, or whatever. Like half of this is just over-exaggerated fanfiction about how I was “bullied out of the FNDM” and I “wasn’t always like this” (do you want to fix me or something OP? lol. Because this sort of feels like a ‘I could fix her’ post). Like I’m not an actual person who has any opinions on any of this, but just the face of “positive RWBYTuber fell from grace and entered the clutches of the awful HDTM” - and even with nuggets of truth, everything else is just made up to fit in with the narrative y’all already want.

So... thanks? But I’d also appreciate you to... not. I can’t tell you what to do but I think I’ve made it pretty clear why you shouldn’t do it, given that half of these things y’all are perceiving me to feel, I feel, are not even true.

For the record, I consider the zealous anti-crits to be just as toxic as the RWDEs, mostly due to the very blatant ableism and hatred of anyone who they think isn't dedicated ENOUGH to the show.

Remember, Calxiyn wasn't always a bigoted RWDE, she was bullied out of leftist communities because ONE anti-crit accused her of being an Ironwood stan when her rewrite of Cinder's backstory showed that Atlas' societal issues predated him.

She became a bigoted RWDE because the RWDEs were the only people willing to support her after she was cancelled over a bad faith reading of something she wrote for fun to show her love for RWBY. She LOVED the show until the fandom ruined it for her.

It's just a cartoon, it's not worth ruining someone's life over.

[jess-p-edits]

Writeblr and WIPs Introduction

Here to write, share, and encourage! Writing asks very much appreciated, but no pressure! I genuinely love hearing about the works of others as well!

I’ve been writing truly horrendous fanfiction since my sophomore year of high school on a private writing blog. Now I can proudly say it is slightly less horrendous, still on that private writing blog.

Writing:

Definitely on the ace spectrum, but I love writing romance in particular. Most of my writing, fics or original works, is very character driven. I love worldbuilding, but purely to provide a deep backdrop for the characters. 

I write short fics for myself as writing warmups, focus on one main work in progress, and one novella to avoid burning out on the main WIP. I greatly admire people who can juggle multiple WIPs. If I don’t focus on one main one at a time, I’d never get anything done! Details below. I hope you enjoy them! They are a blast to write!

I am currently working on a high fantasy romance. Currently 70k words and about halfway through.

Main WIP: The Hour of Magic:

Summary: In a land still reeling from the blessings and horrors brought about by a magical apocalypse a century ago, a king with a reputation for isolationism abruptly brings together representatives from disparate kingdoms, though no one quite knows the king's true intentions. As a part of this apparent call for an alliance, the king's own commander of the guard and a monster-slaying warden of the north culturally clash as they learn how the "other side" is reconciling with an irrevocably changed world.

✨ Full summary for The Hour of Magic

📖 Start reading it here!

Side WIP: Rot and Ash (tag #WIP: Rot and Ash)

Summary: A (seemingly) gentle healer and a monstrously transformed knight reconcile with the attempted destruction of their home, the realm of a slain tyrant king. Unabashedly inspired by Dark Souls, along with Berserk, Bloodborne, low fantasy stories, and the artwork of Abigail Jill Harding.

A monster romance novella, just for fun.

This will be about 20-40k words. Just a palette cleanser as I work on my main story!

The inhabitants of the priory had no use for the gods anymore, but they raised their clasped hands in veneration of a sturdy roof.

Favorite books:

Spinning Silver by Naomi Novik

Howl's Moving Castle by Diana Wynne Jones

Equal Rites by Terry Pratchett

Sabriel by Garth Nix

The House in the Cerulean Sea by TJ Klune

Scythe by Neil Shusterman 

Profile pic: Picrew Link

[bangtanficarchive]

It's here...

October 13th…

PARK JIMIN'S BIRTHDAY!

To celebrate our Jiminie's birthday, Bangtan Fic Archive has gathered some of our favorite Jimin fanfictions into a BIRTHDAY EXTRAVAGANZA MASTERLIST!

Featured are Park Jimin fanfictions from various genres and au's for your enjoyment. Check them out and don't forget to give the author's some love!

Enjoy!

🎂Taboo Attachment by @kpopisthereasonihavenolife

→Young innocence and an unhealthily stupid-lack of common sense lead to you accidentally summoning a demon on your 13th birthday. Somehow agreeing and forming some contract with the said demon, they disappear and so does your memory of it. 10 years later and finally financially stable enough to start college, you wake up with an ash-grey ring in your right ring finger. Despite your efforts, the ring will absolutely not come off. Now, all of a sudden your demon returns and apparently 13-year-old you got yourself engaged to this demon man. | PG-13 | fluff | violence | angst |

🎂 Lovely Demons by @kpopfanfictrash

→ As penance for a crime committed long, long ago, the Witch Council banished you to the feared Tholoss forest. Your sentence was one hundred thousand days of solitude – or death, whichever came first. Your only hope of salvation comes from the demon names routinely sent your way; creatures who escape the inner circles of Hell and pose a threat to the mortal realms. For each demon you kill, days are removed from your sentence. For years you’ve existed, biding your time, until one morning you receive a name which throws your entire world into chaos: the name of Park Jimin, High Prince of Hell himself. | M | smut | fluff | angst | romance |

🎂 Beneath the Water by @jungshookz

→ His legs were sparkling. You looked up from his face slowly and towards his legs, your head tilting in confusion when you were met with the sight of… well, it certainly wasn’t a pair of legs. What the fuck? | PG-13 | fluff | angst | humor | violence |

🎂 Cry Me A Galaxy by @army-author

→ In the emergency room on Christmas Eve, a celestial being comes to answer your whispered prayer. | PG-13 | angst |

🎂 The Voice In My Head by @fresh-outta-jams

→ Soulmate AU | PG | fluff | angst |

🎂 Unorthodox by @chaoticneutralwriter

→ You can’t tell whether you’re fortunate or not to have a guardian demon who thinks it’s funny to go around looking like your idol crush BTS’ Park Jimin. Writing Prompt; Everyone has a guardian angel except you. You have a guardian demon. He deals with things in a much more violent fashion, but much more effective. | PG-13 | fluff | angst | horror | violence | romance |

🎂 Baby Bear by @an-exotic-writer

→ You look forward to coming home to your boyfriend in his human form. | G | fluff |

🎂 Blessing and a Curse by @btsmosphere

→ You are the unlukiest person you know. Park Jimin seems to be the exception to the rule. But when strange dreams start haunting you, Jimin begins to piece together the events that have followed you your whole life… | PG-13 | fluff | angst | romance | humor |

🎂 Countdown by @army-author

→ Your soulmate watch is set to go off on the same day that you meet BTS with your little sister… | PG | fluff |

🎂 Mon coeur T'appartient by @jiminspjm

→ "Just let me love you." | M | smut | romance | fluff | humor | violence |

Bangtan Fic Archive does not own any of the fanfictions or photos featured in this post. All rights reserved to their original creators.