#i wrote a fanfic where handler found out and its really just because i really needed anya to get some form of support for jt

[jamethinks]

Wish I could take some time to go in depth about Anya's powers and the pain and trauma that comes alongside having them. Someone compared them to autism to me, and that really motivates me to dissect her and her powers. The optimistic nature of sxf focuses mainly on the pros of her powers, so I want to look into the cons as well as touch on the isolation she experiences because of it.

[absolutelylosingmymindrn]

loid forger is eepy. he is sneepy

Hello everyone I'm back ٩(◕‿◕｡)۶ and i wrote a fanfic after over a year (if not more)! Please enjoy <(￣︶￣)> comments + rbs appreciated

Full fic under the cut!

Word Count: 1746

Twilight was tired. He was really, really tired.

Despite his mind screaming at his body to act normal, it was as if every fiber of his being had united against him in pursuit of a singular goal: to shut down completely out of sheer exhaustion. This is how Twilight soon found himself collapsed onto the ground, like he was a marionette that had its strings cut.

Or: Twilight almost passes out on the street and is saved by Yor, not without some shenanigans (and a lot of overthinking on Twilight's part) happening along the way.

Twilight was tired. He was really, really tired. 

Handler had just sent him on what she called an “easy task”. He should’ve known better than to trust her definition of “easy”, however, as she had practically thrown him into a den of wolves just to gather a scrap of information. It was nothing he hadn’t done before, of course, but that didn't mean it wasn’t incredibly physically demanding. He had had to sprint and fight nonstop all in an effort to not get injured to a point where even his excuse of ‘dealing with rowdy patients’ wouldn’t work on Yor and Anya (he really didn’t want to worry them. Only because it would be bad for the mission, of course. He needed to make sure they were happy...for the mission). 

He walked down the street, his feet dragging against the rough pavement and his arms swinging loosely by his sides. He breathed deeply, but even that felt like a herculean effort, the little amount of energy he had left quickly burning away.

I shouldn’t even be this tired , he thought to himself as he shuffled across the road. I’ve survived much worse and come out unscathed. Come on, Twilight, pull yourself together! Despite his mind screaming at his body to act normal, it was as if every fiber of his being had united against him in pursuit of a singular goal: to shut down completely out of sheer exhaustion. 

This is how Twilight soon found himself collapsed onto the ground, face crushed against gritty rock and limbs sprawled in all directions. He tried in vain to scrape together any energy he could find still clinging to his body in order to try to stand back up and for god's sake act normal , but it was like he was a marionette that had its strings cut. 

I need to get up, he grumbled to himself in his head, speaking being too much of an effort, what with his mouth being pressed right against the ground. I need to get up, otherwise people will notice me on the ground and report me for suspicious behavior and then it’ll be all over for Operation Strix, no, my whole career! Get up! Now! And yet Twilight’s body continued to betray him and he remained slumped on the roadside. 

Suddenly, a familiar set of shiny black flats came rushing to his side, and a sweet voice cried out to him, “Loid! Loid, are you okay?!” Twilight just barely managed to shift his head up enough to get a glimpse at the owner of the voice: Yor. She leaned over him, her eyes wide with worry. She was still wearing her office uniform and Twilight deliriously took note of how disheveled her deep black hair was ( she must have run over to me...how nice of her ) and how she still managed to look quite nice despite it. Twilight was vaguely aware of Yor checking his pulse in several different locations, asking him what happened and borderline begging him to stay with her. I’m not dying, Yor. I’ll be fine, I’m just tired, was what he tried to tell her but he only managed to mumble incoherently. As his eyelids almost drew close, he saw out of his thin line of vision Yor panic even more then nod to herself resolutely...

before picking him up bridal-style and absolutely booking it. 

Twilight’s eyes snapped open, and he clung to Yor’s work uniform in shock of what had just happened and in fear of getting thrown out of her arms. While he took a note in the back of his mind of how strong Yor had to be to be able to pick him up as if he weighed absolutely nothing (and he took another, much smaller, note about how that was very attractive to him. Only because having her strength at his side would make her a powerful asset to his mission. That was all), he mainly concentrated on trying to get a bearing of his rapidly changing surroundings. First they were in the shopping district he was slugging around in, then at the park, then past the park and then racing through a busy, car-lined street (how Yor managed to dodge all of those cars at the speed she was going Twilight couldn’t understand) Twilight recognized to be the way to the hospital. 

“YOR!” Twilight yelled, trying to quickly get Yor’s attention. It worked immediately, and she stopped in her tracks, skidding a bit down the road from the sudden change in speed. She looked down at him as he laid in her arms and her eyes lit up upon seeing him looking back at her. 

“Loid, you’re awake!” She grinned, and Twilight could’ve sworn he went blind from how bright her smile was. “Thank goodness! I was about to bring you to the hospital-” 

“Yes, I know. But I’m fine, Yor.” Twilight held up a hand to interrupt her and tried to give her the most convincing I-Was-Totally-Not-About-To-Pass-Out-Before-You-Found-Me smile he could give. “Really.”

“Are you sure?” Yor’s face switched from happiness at him, at the very least, being alive to worry once again (and if Twilight’s heart dropped at seeing her lips twist into a frown and her eyebrows knit together and her eyes shining with concern, then that’s just another thing he doesn’t need to think about right now). “You didn’t seem well earlier. Are you really sure you don’t need to go to the hospital?” She adjusted her grip on Twilight, lifting him upwards so she could get a better look at him. Her eyes scanned his face, making sure he wasn’t about to pass out on her. 

“I’m sure, I promise.” Twilight gave her a hopefully reassuring grin before looking around the two of them. Every car around the two of them was honking incessantly at them to get them to get out of the road, and Twilight cringed at the noise. This is it. Twilight was internally screaming at himself for letting them get in the way of traffic for so long (no good spy would let themselves be in such a revealing spot for that long of a period of time), and especially for not speaking up sooner. This is what gets us both reported. Especially now that there’s an SSS officer present. Twilight shifts his head inconspicuously in the direction of the officer’s car. That man in that British Ginetta 2 cars to the left of us. I recognize him from the files Handler showed me. He’s been eyeing us this whole time and he’s no doubt going to remember both of our faces, if not track us both down once we leave the vicinity. Twilight’s mind began running a mile a minute, going through every possible outcome of every single scenario he could think of. I have to move us both out of here quickly, but in a way he won’t be able to see us leave. I just need to- his train of thought was cut short by Yor suddenly shrieking as she threw him away from her, hurtling him into the air. 

While Twilight was busy ruminating about their situation, Yor was equally deep in her own thoughts. What happened? She questioned him in her mind, tilting her head down to examine him even closer. Is he injured? It’s not like this is the first time he’s come home hurt or tired, he does work with uncooperative patients after all but...he’s never gotten like this. Yor pouted a bit while she thought, her eyes running up and down Loid’s body in search of injury, and she looked closely at his eyes for any sign of them dropping closed again. I never noticed just how blue his eyes were until now...wait. It suddenly dawned on Yor just how close Loid’s face was to hers and just how tightly she was gripping onto his body and him to hers. Her face rapidly turned as red as her eyes and she screamed as she thrusted Loid into the air. 

And that is how Twilight escaped being reported by the SSS officer. As he flew through the air, he saw out of the corner of his eye Yor was sprinting after him with her arms outstretched, ready to catch him. What...the hell just happened. He thought to himself as he rapidly crashed down back to the ground and right into Yor’s waiting arms. 

“I’m so so so sorry! I, you see, I took disc-throwing lessons when I was a child and- and-” Yor rapid fire sputtered out apologies while she cradled Loid in her arms. He blinked at her in shock, then burst out laughing, cutting her rush of words short. 

“It’s okay, Yor. Thank you very much for catching me.” He smiled up at her, genuinely this time, and she smiled softly back. “Now I really think we should go home. It’s almost dinner time, and Anya is waiting for us.” He could imagine her at that moment, pouting while standing in front of the door, ready to guilt Yor and Loid for coming home so incredibly late and letting her half starve to death (they would only be half an hour late at most, and Anya had plenty of snacks to tide her over) with Bond at her side. “Also, I think I feel well enough to walk, so...” he trailed off and watched Yor’s cheeks dust with red in embarrassment. 

“O-oh! Yes, sorry.” Yor gently set Loid onto his feet and he quickly thanked her. “And yes, let’s! Anya must be worried about us.” She began to walk in the direction of their home and Loid joined her, the two of them walking in step. They talked about small things, Loid asking Yor about her day and Yor asking Loid about what had happened to him (he told her he’d just had a rough day at work, which was not entirely a lie), then they moved onto other things like what was for dinner and where to take Anya in the weekend. As they walked, Twilight, without thinking about it, smiled while gazing softly at Yor while she talked and Yor, upon noticing, shyly smiling back. 

Even though his new family may just be crafted for Operation Strix and the amount of days left where he and Yor could peacefully walk side by side were unknown, nevertheless Twilight found  himself thinking that he could happily get used to this.

[ashintheairlikesnow]

Colton/Kauri Fanfiction #1

@shameless-whumper and I ended up basically accidentally creating a challenge in which I promised to reward anyone who drew a specific, amazing fanart idea I was sent in an ask with a fake fanfiction drabble that featured the Colton/Kauri pairing.

You guys took me up on it.

Holy shit did you ever.

I am currently sitting at I believe four fanfic drabbles owed with at least one more soon to be claimed, I think. 

I’ve finished the first, and it’s below the cut. I give you... @haro-whumps‘s request for “Colton touches Kauri’s hair”:

Tagging: @maybeawhumpblog, @pepperonyscience, @haro-whumps, @18-toe-beans, @burtlederp, @finder-of-rings, @giggly-evil-puppy, @lump-of-whump, @whimpers-and-whumpers

(Colton is of course @shameless-whumper‘s and this drabble comes with express permission and no small amount of glee)

The fog was deep and my voice was inside and it told me a secret by NotAHowenShipper Youtube Videos - The Host

No Archive Warnings Apply, Colton/Kauri, On the Run, Forbidden Love, All They Do Is Kiss (This Time), I wrote this instead of sleeping, should I write another one where they do more, maybe if I get enough comments lol, omg can you even imagine the Host’s face, Owen Grant is a dick, wouldn’t it be so funny if Vincent Shield saw this

Kauri and Colton are on the run after leaving the Host and Owen Grant. They’re alone in the city with no one to turn to but each other. A cold night in a dark alley changes everything.

I love comments and kudos, you guys!!! Let me know if I should write a chapter two or something that gets a little ~spicier~, if you get my drift! LOL these two were so cute in the Better Box Boy video, I hope we see them again. They are TOTALLY made for each other, right????

This was written after like six Redbulls and at 3 AM so don’t judge!!!

The alley is already dark, the shadows of the buildings on either side closing in over their heads. The footsteps pound past, a flash of darker shadow in the yellow late-afternoon winter sunlight. 

Colton’s black hoodie blends in, the hood pulled up to hide as much of his face as possible, and he presses Kauri against the crumbling brick wall behind him to hide the younger man, in his thin white T-shirt, from the handlers pursuing them. He has a hand against the wall on either side of Kauri, boxing him in, his mouth very nearly pressed against Kauri’s ear. “Just be quiet and they won’t see us,” He murmurs, and thinks that Kauri’s ear feels cold where his lips just barely brush along the shell.

Kauri was already shivering long before they made it into the alley, but here out of the weak sunlight the temperature drops even more, and he can hear Kauri’s soft breathing starting to get shallow and panicked. 

Or maybe he’s breathing faster because of something else.

“It’s okay,” Colton says softly, low voice pitched deep enough not to carry. Black curls gently graze against his forehead, his cheek, and Kauri is biting his lower lip, his eyes staring to the side, towards the entrance of the alley. “It’s gonna be okay, Kauri, I promise, just wait until they’re gone.”

He can still hear them shouting to each other, trying to find them, and while Kauri nods, Colton chances a direct look and finds his blue eyes are wide, white-rimmed, and frightened. 

He can’t stand it; hates the way Kauri looks so scared, even days after running out of the Host’s house. They could be picked up any second, the moment a sleeve rides up enough to show the barcodes and numbers tattooed into their wrists, the second their jittery nervousness is read for what it is by strangers on the street.

Pets on the run, to be rounded up and returned to Owen Grant and the Host - probably sent back to the Facility to be refurbished and sold off like virus-riddled computers. He doesn’t even know why he decided to run when he did. Owen and the Host had been in another room, and he’d just grabbed Kauri’s arm and said, come with me.

The real question was why Kauri had so quickly gone with him.

No argument, no fight. Kauri had only whispered, yes, flashed him a slight, shy smile, and run right after him out the door. The Host and Owen hadn’t even noticed until they were most of the way down the block, and he’d heard them shouting as a distant sound that seemed barely human. 

But barely human is what they are, and the only way to stay together now is to never stop moving. They’re hungry - Colton’s been panhandling, making enough to get by but not really enough to live on, even as homeless ex-pet runaways. Kauri’s too distinctive, his looks are too much like Vincent Shield, and so he mostly stays back in shadows while Colton, who looks like no one in particular or at least no one famous, does his best to keep them fed. 

They’re hungry, and hunted, and running out of time to figure out another plan. He doesn’t even really know where he is, or why he ran, or what he expects to happen next. The weirdest part is that it doesn’t even matter.

All that matters is who came with him.

Kauri shivers again, and he’s close enough to feel it. Colton lifts a hand to his face, and Kauri’s breathing calms, a little, at the touch. Colton swallows against the urge to keep this up, to never stop doing whatever it took to make Kauri feel just a little safer. 

“Hey, are you shaking ‘cause you’re scared, or is this just because of the cold?” His heart is pounding but it feels like it’s less from fear than it was before, now some other feeling creeping its way in. 

It’s something he doesn’t want to think about, or to talk about, but it’s still been between them from the moment he’d seen Kauri from behind the camera.

“Can-... do I get to say both?” Kauri whispers, and the two of them laugh, airy and breathless and barely sounds at all. “They almost got us that time, Colton.”

“It doesn’t matter. We got away again. We’ll always get away, I promise, I’ll make sure you always get away.”

Kauri turns his head a little, and they’re barely an inch apart, now. “I don’t want me to always get away, Colton,” Kauri says, and there’s a hitch to his voice. “I want both of us to always get away... together.”

The air is warmer between them than the cold around them, and this time when he feels Kauri shiver, Colton pushes closer to him instead of pulling back. He unzips his sweatshirt - they’d dropped the branded Host’s merchandise as fast as they could, taking a sweatshirt right off the hanger at a convenience store and putting the Host’s sweater in its place - and slides it off his shoulders.

Colton wonders why it is that this is the person he wanted so badly to protect that he’d lose everything - and risk even more - just to end up here. Some sweet guy he’d only barely met, barely spoken to… but here they were.

Together, half-starved and freezing in a dirty alley, and Colton is taking off the only warm clothing he has to slide it over the shoulders of the younger man looking up at him with wide, blue eyes, his face slightly scrunched up with confusion. 

“Colton, no,” Kauri says softly, but he pulls the sweatshirt tighter around himself, and Colton swallows against an unfamiliar feeling (but no, it’s not unfamiliar at all) of wanting to see Kauri wearing his clothes - all of them, not just his sweatshirt - one day. “You’ll get cold.”

“You’re already cold,” Colton says softly, and his smile is slight and maybe a little sharp, but softer than it ever was for the Host. And Kauri’s returning smile had none of the nervous fear of every time Colton had seen him look towards Owen Grant when Colton had stood behind the camera.

“I don’t want us to trade off being cold,” Kauri says, and his hands are a little shaky when he reaches out, twisting fingers into the fabric of the thick long-sleeved shirt Colton was wearing under the hoodie. When he pulls Colton forward, he moves easily enough, until they’re touching and Colton can feel Kauri’s heart beating as hard and fast as his own. Kauri shifts, pulling the sides of the hoodie around so they wrapped around behind Colton, too, and Kauri’s shiver was still there but it had changed, too. “We could be warm together, instead.”

Colton’s forehead drops forward, to rest against Kauri’s, breathing a little harder. “We don’t even know who we are,” He whispers, and there’s real pain in that confession. He doesn’t know why he’d signed up for the pet program, what he’d done in his past that was so bad he had given up everything.

But he’s found something else in the process.

“I could be a murderer. I could be something terrible, and you don’t even know.” Even as he speaks the words, Colton’s hands move up to cup Kauri’s face, the cold cheeks against his warm palms. He moved his fingers up into Kauri’s hair, into wild black curls that had gone tangled with days on the run, a little dirty, but still they feel impossibly soft to him. 

Kauri melts into the touch, leaning his head back slightly, and he’s so close. He’s so, so close. 

“I could be a murderer, too,” Kauri whispers, and Colton can’t stop the huff of laughter. Kauri’s eyes flash with defensiveness and the scrunch of confusion shifts to an attempt at an angry frown, but his hands stay wrapped in Colton’s shirt, and Colton doesn’t pull his hands back from his hair. “I could be a murderer!”

“No offense,” Colton says softly, “But killing someone is genuinely the second-most impossible thing I’ve ever tried to imagine you doing.”

“What’s the most impossible thing?” Kauri asks, and Colton keeps one hand in his hair, sliding around behind his head, while the other moves to take him by the chin, lifting his head just a little bit.

The wide blue eyes are on his, now, and they’re not frightened anymore.

“The most impossible thing I can imagine you doing is this,” Colton whispers, and leans down to kiss him. 

[panticwritten]

10 Questions from Breakeven2007

Haha, thanks for the tag @breakeven2007, I’m always a slut for answering questions.

Since I forgot to put the rules on the post last time I got tagged, I’ll go ahead and do that this time. Basically, if you’re tagged, you answer the questions your tagger left at the bottom of the post, then you tag some other folks and leave your own questions at the bottom for the next people to answer!

I’ll do this under the break again.

1. What OC makes you want to tear your hair out and why?

Okay, when it come to writing a character, like getting the writing down when I’m writing them, it would probably be Jay. They spend so much time locked away in their lab that they talk to their androids more than they even see other people. They have shaky morals and I always want to write them as being better than they are.

With the way characters act and general ‘what are you doing?’ tearing my hair out, I’d say it’s Sawyer. Because most of my writing is daydreams and I’m writing the things that happened in my daydream, I write with the knowledge of how much those decisions fucked me over. Sometimes I wish I could go back and whisper in my past-self’s ear saying “NO!”

Retrospect is 20/20 and I hate it.

2. Do you like going back and reading old writing or looking at old drawings? Why or why not?

Oh my god, yes. To a point. I love reading 2014-onward writing. Before that, there are things I should just let die. I have a completed Johnny the Homicidal Maniac/”Gory Demise” by Creature Feature fanfic in the depths of my DA, for Christ’s sake.

The worst part is, on my particularly nostalgic days, I have thought about rewriting that ;^;

But I like looking back and seeing how far I’ve come in my writing. I like seeing how different projects change the way that I write. If I read my god-awful writing for 2010, I can actually start to believe it when people tell me my writing is good. Because no matter how many flaws it might have, It’s better than it was. That’s all that matters in the end.

3. Have you ever had a daydream so long and extensive you actually have to catch yourself before writing all that shit down because it was good.

HA yes.

I’d like to say that all of my daydreams that I end up writing are like that, but I know that isn’t true. I waited about a month before I started writing Breaking Furnace, and it took one of my friends asking questions about what in my daydreams was bothering to get me to write Sequence of Regrettable Happenings. I started writing Trollhunter’s: Subverted a few says after the daydream started, but I wish I’d started sooner. So many little details were lost from the first couple days.

The daydream sequence that brought Journey to the Center of Our Mind around is what I’m thinking of for this one. So much just started happening at once and I started writing it as soon as I could tear myself away from the actual daydream.’

On a vaguely related note, the beginning plot for Savior Destroy came out of an actual dream, and so did Damien, one of the paras/characters I have.

4. What is the hardest genre for you to write?

I’m not sure if this actually counts as a genre, but the hardest thing for me to write is physical fights. I’ve never experienced an actual fight, and I have a hard time balancing pacing, action, emotion, all of that stuff.

5. How often do you pull all-nighters (if you do)?

I don’t really pull all-nighters, but I come close a lot. I normally go into staying up past 2am expecting to stay up the whole night because I used to all the time. I never do, though, because I get tired and can’t function. I’m already so tired all the time, I have a hard time when I reach the middle point between normal levels and the I’ve-been-awake-for-36-hours-I’ve -never-felt-so-alive high. I miss the manic feeling of staying up the whole night, but it’s probably not a bad thing that I can’t seem to get there anymore.

I normally just end up making bad decisions lmAO

6. Is your writing better with or without sufficient sleep?

Without. I do good writing between like 8pm and 6am which is why I try to stay up so often, even if I know I’ll fail.

7. Do you have a favorite fandom? If so, why?

Favorite fandom, not really. If I stay on the very surface of fandoms, they’re fine but most of the time if I go any deeper I just end up getting uncomfortable so I tend to not delve. I probably like what I’ve seen of the Dragon Age fandom the most, though. Particularly DA2 because I will fight on my stance that DA2 is the best game in the series.

I just like things. I like the things and I especially like it when I watch/read/listen to things without my brain deciding to give me another 500,000 page-worth daydream to obsess over. Can I just be a casual fan for once in my goddamn life please.

8. What book would you recommend to anyone who asked, regardless of personal taste? (Doesn’t have to be your favorite.)

The Belgariad and The Mallorean. It’s actually two five-book series, but they are everything to me. It’s a fantasy series by David Eddings (and his wife, Leigh Eddings, though she wasn’t credited until much later), and it’s a wonderful coming of age story.

The Belgariad is really focused, most of the characters (except for the protag of course) know roughly what they need to do and who the bad guys are and where they need to go.

The Mallorean delves a lot deeper into the particulars of war. That even the ‘bad guys’ aren’t necessarily evil or irredeemable. There’s a lot more confusion, mystery, and the unknown plays a big part in how the story plays out and the decisions the characters make.

They’re Good Books.

9. Is there an author that you can’t stand? And conversely, one that’s on your auto-read list? Why?

I think I’ve answered a question similar to this on this blog. I haven’t really found an author that I hate, partially because if I start a book and can’t get through it I tend to forget that it and its author exists. Mostly, though, it’s because of how writing grows and a writer can do terrible work in one genre and be great in another. For example, I don’t really like most of James Patterson’s work because the way he writes crime fiction is a little too much for me. I love his YA modern fantasy/science fiction writing, though! Maximum Ride and (okay god I can’t remember what the series was called, like ‘W’ or something, it’s about witches) were genuinely enjoyable, even if they have some big continuation and plot issues that come along with the past pace at which authors like JP write.

I’d say that I want to read every piece of writing that Daniel Handler has ever created as Lemony Snicket. The voice in his work is SO GOOD and fun to read. I’ve been reading TSOUE to my sister and I’m noticing more and more that went completely over my head when I first read it in middle school. Some jokes that are more relatable now that I’m older, and I fully appreciate how terrifying Count Olaf is as a villain. I’m also in the process of reading ATWQ, which takes place in the childhood of Lemony and his first mission as an apprentice in the VFD.

10. If you were a published author, would you support fanfiction of your work? (This is tumblr so I kinda assume so, but some people wouldn’t want someone to “mangle” their work, if you will.) Would you support complete crack ships or ships that you didn’t agree with canonically?

This is kind of a double edged sword, to be completely honest. Since, even in the works I could publish, the main character is a version of myself from my daydreams, fanfiction could be a little weird for me to read.

But, like, fanfiction?? And fanart????? Of something I wrote?? That would be awesome. It would be cool to see how people see my characters, even if they completely fuck up the actual characterization. There is only one noncanon ship that I wouldn’t just say ‘oh, okay, not what I had in mind but fine.’ I wouldn’t ask people not to write it because you know write what you want, but Sawyer and Dominic is something that doesn’t sit well with me.

And that’s a wrap!

I’ll go ahead and tag @cadewrites @itstheenglishkid and @alextriestowritestuff

Okay, here are my questions for you! 

1. Do you have any pets? How about your OCs?

2. How do you beat writer’s block?

3. Where do you draw most of your inspiration from?

4. How do you and your OCs feel about pineapple on pizza?

5. If you had to choose a fictional universe to live in, which one would it be?

6. Would you get along with your OCs if you met them in person? 

7. Which of your OCs would burn a house down or overreact in a similar way if they even thought they saw a spider?

8. What’s your favorite time of day to write?

9. Have you ever written an AU of your own work?

10. Have you ever written a scene so emotionally charged that it hurt you upon rereading it?

A fun story relating vaguely to question 7. Once, I was drawing during the summer with the window open. A dragonfly zoomed in as I was about to close the window and go to sleep, so I abandoned my room in terror, screaming, and slept in the living room instead.

I’m not even scared of dragonflies?? They just don’t belong in my room.