#need to post snippets of this to release it from my brain

[turian]

garrus's position as what is essentially a police officer puts him in the line of fire of various tired copaganda tropes. worthy of note is the "cowboy cop" trope, which can be summarized as a renegade police officer who breaks the rules in favor of vengeance, justice, or righteousness. the "cowboy cop" is usually framed as being in the right; this trope largely belongs to antiheroes. "cowboy cop" is considered by tvtropes to apply to both garrus vakarian and renegade shepard. garrus, though noted as being more "polite and soft-spoken" than those the trope generally applies to, is a character who defies authority and values his own sense of justice above the law. he voices his preference for killing criminals rather than letting them slip away. his personal quest in me2 is heavily related to this - he seeks to hunt down and kill a man who he perceives (whether or not he is correct is not relevant; all that's relevant is that garrus believes wholeheartedly in this conviction and this method of justice) was responsible for horrific human rights abuses. as a paragon or renegade shepard, you can either aid garrus in this or stay his hand and insist that you seek another more measured form of justice.

garrus has, by this point in the narrative, essentially become a vigilante. he is a dog with a bone when it comes to his view of justice, and he is not capable of letting an investigation go because beureaucracy - or hierarchy - dictates he must. this is why he quits c-sec, so that he can chase justice along shepard's side. after shepard and him are separated, garrus, rather than resuming a c-sec career, decides to go clean up crime on omega. he is granted the nickname archangel. these exploits nearly get him killed - it is only shepard's intervention (which occurs just in the nick of time) which save him from near-certain death. even with shepard's help, he does not leave omega unscathed - he has, by the end of his recruitment mission, taken a rocket to the face, and for the rest of the game series, carries those scars.

garrus's story would not be terribly out of place in gotham, though its politics differ from batman's. the "cowboy cop" trope doesn't technically apply to bruce wayne. bruce wayne's vigilantism, gothic or not, is shown to be directly in community with police. batman serves the empire in which he lurks. batman may take issue with some corruption in that system, but he naively believes in good cops. batman is elevated by one thing only - his refusal to kill. that said, he is happy to hand victims of his justice to institutions that will kill.

garrus vakarian has oft been called the batman of his universe, but should instead be likened to jason todd, aka red hood. red hood is fuelled by anger at a system that failed him, and seeks to work outside of that system. however, even in working outside of that system, jason carries the system's view of justice with him when he dispenses his own violent form of vigilante justice. red hood fights the same people that batman fights - the only difference, really, is that jason fights with bullets rather than batarangs.

garrus's motivations are alleged to be a desire to stand against and work independently of corruption. and to be clear, taking a stance against corrupt police is good. violence against corruption is good. violence against police is good. however, based on garrus's aims and actions, it seems clear that garrus is not against policing, nor is he necessarily against corruption in all its forms. garrus is instead against being controlled. garrus would like to step outside of the system, but unwittingly brings the system with him when he makes that move. quoting from tvtropes:

Paragon Shepard's influence can inspire [garrus] to rejoin C-Sec with a new appreciation for playing by the rules, in addition to reapplying for Spectre candidacy (which happens either route you take). Renegade Shepard's influence, conversely, will encourage his tendencies to the extent that he envies Shepard's lack of problems with red tape.

garrus's frustration may be with c-sec and corruption within c-sec in part, but garrus is distinguished from corrupt officers only through his disdain for anything he perceives as leashing him. it's made clear by his respect for renegade shepard and the ability of a pro-police paragon shepard to sway him back c-sec's way that garrus is more than fine with the police. his disdain for them is in no way radical. it should also be noted that garrus leaves c-sec to serve the alliance military, who are enforcing laws in their own right. garrus simply moves to doing the same things he's always done in proverbial international waters.

characters like garrus and bruce wayne (and, for that matter, jason todd) act with authority based on their own convictions. because they operate within stories and are intended as sympathetic characters, their convictions go largely unquestioned by the narrative. batman is right because he's batman. red hood is right because he's red hood, except when batman is right instead. shepard is right because they're shepard. garrus is right because he's garrus, except when shepard is right instead. the question mass effect really poses in garrus's arm of the story is as follows: should garrus dispense violence for the system within the system, or should he dispense violence for the system while pretending he exists outside of it?

[inexplicifics]

Hiya! I was wondering if you’d been having any luck making the Cats Among Wolves bunnies cooperate lately? If not, that’s cool. Plot bunnies are not the most cooperative creatures, but I figured I’d ask. I was also curious about what the writing process usually looks like for you if you were willing to explain it a bit. Do you tend to jump around between projects just following the inspiration, or do you write out at least a whole scene or chapter before letting yourself move around? How many times do you usually send a fic to Rose for betaing before you feel ready to release it? I always find different people’s processes so interesting.

So Cats Among Wolves is mostly not cooperating at the moment - I am weirdly low on Brain and the bunnies are not doing long-form very well just now. But here's a snippet from the Cedric & Axel fic:

Fuck, this is good, Cedric opines, sipping greedily at the soup Gaetan is holding for him. “The old Wolf knows his way around a kitchen,” Gaetan agrees, nodding. “I think I gained most of a stone the first winter I spent here.” “You needed it,” Eskel puts in. “All you Cats are too damn scrawny.” “Wolves are just absurdly big,” Gaetan sniffs. “And what are Vipers, then?” Eskel - teases. And Gaetan is grinning. Axel has never seen Gaetan so relaxed around an alpha before. Not even Cedric. But there’s not even a hint of tension in his littlest brother. He’s utterly unafraid. “Vipers are mostly perfectly normal sizes, Letho’s just special,” Gaetan says cheerfully. Letho smirks.

As to my writing process - oh gods, it's like a pogo stick. I often have eight or ten docs open, and I create a new WIP at least three times a week. (I am very easy to plotbunny. And I am surrounded by enablers.) I write until I get stuck and then I go to something else. Sometimes, if something really grabs me, I can get a whole longfic out in a week; sometimes I have to come back to it again and again until it clicks. My personal feeling is that as long as words are ending up in a row, it's all good.

I don't outline. Outlines kill fic for me. Once I've written down what's going to happen, why bother writing it again? Even for something like MBtT, I had the very loosest possible sketch of the plot and the desired relationships. I also can't estimate how long a fic is going to be to save my life. I thought MBtT was going to be 50K. I have to very deliberately keep from putting plot into things like prompt fills and flash fics, because once I've added plot, that fic isn't getting done in less than 10K.

I usually send the fic to Rose when it's completely done, and then do a pass through it once she's left comments, fixing all the plot holes she finds. Then she checks my work and I put it in the posting queue.

One thing I have found that helps me is that I color-code my docs. Blue is in progress, purple is ready for beta, and green is ready to be posted. It makes it easier for me to track things visually.

The other thing that really helps is cheer-readers. Because I try to only post finished fics, sometimes I'll start wondering if what I'm writing is really any good. Rose and Twist and Ray have all been wonderful at Encouraging me enthusiastically to keep going, and suggesting directions when I get stuck. Cheer-readers are great and I encourage writers to find them if they can.

Hope that was interesting!

[jumpywhumpywriter]

do you have any tricks for getting your brain to listen to you and Actually Write

YES! There are several useful tricks I use to get motivated or jumpstart my brain into writing mode (because brains have a mind of their own sometimes and are incredibly stubborn). It doesn't work 100% of the time but here's all the stuff I try that can increase chances of successful writing by a large amount:

1. Listening to music scientifically stimulates the parts of the brain that control imagination and creativity, which can really help get you going. For me, I like to find songs that represent certain characters or particular moods based on what scenes I'm writing. This has helped me a TON in writing. Example: if I'm writing a sad death scene, I like to listen to sad/melancholy music to help bring me the emotions that I can then transfer to the characters I'm writing, or giving me the right "mindset" for certain scenes. Action scenes would be something like adventurous or rock music. (If you'd like, I have an awesome list of perfect music for different moods I could share that you can try out and see if it helps -- songs that are like "saying goodbye to someone" themed, etc.)

This has literally saves me so many times, and is my #1 go-to method above all others.

2. Try writing something different or unrelated to your main story, just to keep your mind sharp and active until the inspiration comes. It could be a random funny/fluff scene including your characters, OR it could be completely unrelated -- you'll see this in a lot of my writing I've posted on Tumblr Almost 100% of the stories I've posted here are ones I made completely unrelated to the fantasy trilogy I'm writing (located in Masterlist #2). Because I have learned about myself that my best work comes from when I'm "in the mood" for it. If I try to force myself to have a certain amount of chapters I write each day for my main story, I tend to burn out and the quality of my writing declines very obviously. So I write what seems fun in the moment, just to keep my imagination active until the creativity comes and I can switch back to my fantasy trilogy. Try not to limit yourself with the "I have to write every single day", it's perfectly fine to take breaks and write other short stories and snippets, or even take a break from writing altogether.

3. Okay, this one is going to sound kind of weird and quirky, but PROTEIN. For some odd reason, I think better when I have plenty of protein in my system. So eating foods high in protein (or even just using protein powder for a quick boost) an hour before you plan to sit down and write can actually make a noticeable difference in your mental energy. It's so weird, but it surprisingly works for me, so I just thought I'd throw it out there as another option.

4. Getting fresh air. Literally a lifesaver. You can take your phone/whatever electronic you write on outdoors, find a nice shady place to sit down and write away. This helps in particular with writing scenes where characters are outdoors as well, because you can use your own senses to observe your surroundings and weaving it into writing (like "the air was crisp with the scent of fresh-cut grass" or something like that.) It's also scientifically proven to boost mood, and can help your mind wander until it stumbles upon inspiration.

5. EXERCISE! it releases a bunch of dopamine into your system that makes you feel happy and has many mood-boosting effects, great for creating a solid foundation to let inspiration flow in!

I hope all this helps! (And if it doesn't, or you need advice on a particular area of writing, feel free to ask for more!)

[k-s-morgan]

Those Gentle Slopes: Snippet

Thought to share a final snippet before the posting of the chapter! Have some protective Sebastian and unhinged Ciel)) Also, I have to say that when I'll be writing this chapter from Sebastian's POV, it will be probably creepier than anything that happened so far. He broke my plans and started getting a lot more physical than I expected, having a couple of unplanned realizations. Huh. I love the mystery writing.

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

“Sebastian,” he barked. His commanding tone must have reached some part of Sebastian’s brain because he turned his head slightly, but he still didn’t let go, and this was infuriating as much as it was flattering.

Looked like not sensing his soul didn’t make Sebastian any less willing to protect him. He still got angry on Ciel’s behalf — angry enough to ignore his orders and common sense.

Good. But unacceptable. If speaking didn’t work…

Ciel stepped out from behind Sebastian and wrapped his hand around his wrist. Shivers of strange, heady heat blossomed all over his body when he sank into the inviting unnatural energy Sebastian was radiating, feeling it sing under his touch. It was becoming increasingly difficult to keep his head cool, but fortunately, Randall’s gurgling sounds helped a little.

And it seemed like he’d already succeeded in something — Sebastian was staring at him now, the deadly redness of his stare quickly softening to a more human shade. Holding his gaze, Ciel tapped against his wrist in rapid succession, recreating the secret language they had devised a long time ago.

Stop. This is an order. You’re still mine, you have to obey me.

He wasn’t certain it would work any better than his verbal commands did, but something about his new approach must have finally gotten through. Sebastian released his grip and let Randall crash to the floor like a sack of sand. He seemed far more interested in Ciel now — one of his hands wrapped around his waist, pulling him closer, and another one touched his chin, tilting his head back to reveal his neck.

The futility of this evaluation was blatantly apparent. Randall hadn’t managed to touch him, so whatever damage Sebastian was checking him for couldn’t be there. It was absolutely ridiculous, but for some reason, Ciel didn’t protest. He stood there patiently, allowing Sebastian to examine him to his satisfaction.

Finally, Sebastian hummed in contentment and let him go. Almost. His fingers slid down to Ciel’s wrist and stayed there, holding it firmly but unobtrusively. His attention returned to Randall’s panting form, and this time, Ciel caught the moment when the darkness flared in his eyes.

“Let me make one thing clear,” Sebastian uttered. A smile touched his lips, but it was as far from what a smile was supposed to be that even Ciel found it disturbing. “If you attempt to inflict any kind of damage on my Master again, the next time your family sees you, you will be chopped into more pieces than your daughter will be able to count. Perhaps I will feed your liquefied remains to her. Would you like that?”                

The desire for something Ciel couldn’t identify took over his rational thoughts again. He almost swayed on his feet, his skin burning, his lips parting in a pleased sigh. More waves of joy crashed into him when Sebastian placed his shoe on Randall’s ankle and pressed against it carefully. His movements seemed feather-light, but the bone cracked anyway, followed by Randall’s pained shout.

“It’s not broken,” Sebastian noted disdainfully. “Consider it your warning. You will leave this house and you will not bring anything that happened here up with anyone. Because I know where you live, and I know how to slip into places unnoticed.” The sharp grin he gave Randall was downright frightening, but Ciel felt like he could drown in it. He shook his head, hoping it would be enough to sober him up. His body was behaving in an increasingly odd way, and it was getting tedious to make sense of its incomprehensive needs and demands.

Wheezing but trying to keep all the sounds locked in his mouth, Randall stood up. He nearly fell down, a pained grimace twisting his red face. What was even more fascinating was the wetness of frustrated tears shining in his eyes. The sight was completely unprecedented, and Ciel stared at it greedily, committing every inch of it to memory.

“You may not believe it right now,” Randall said, his voice hoarse, “but there will be a reckoning. One day, the both of you monsters will die, and I’ll become the last thing you see.”

[holmesxwatson]

The Private Life of Sherlock Holmes dir: Billy Wilder, 1970

I only watched The Private Life of Sherlock Holmes for the first time a few days ago but it lights my brain up in that special way that I know I’ll revisit it a lot. Don’t get me wrong, it’s far from perfect, for one thing Colin Blakely’s Watson is a little too shouty for me, but it’s very worthwhile to check out despite its shortcomings, which I think mostly come from the fact that so much was cut from the intended script.

I absolutely love Robert Stephens as Holmes. His face is so good, he has a way of looking at Watson when he doesn’t know he’s being observed that is very soft. I thought I was hallucinating the beginning of this movie with Holmes telling the ballet dancer he’s gay and in a relationship with Watson. I thought it was going to be played for a joke, and it was a bit, but it didn’t just end there. Holmes and Watson have a conversation about the repercussions in a lengthy scene that turns very serious by the end. I can’t believe this was 1970 and no one has since tried to build on this specific dynamic in a more meaningful way. Someone needs to remake this into a mini-series exactly how Billy Wilder intended it to be, here’s hoping public domain can make it so.

[above: script page from the cut story The Curious Case of the Upside Down Room, where Watson creates a fake case to make Holmes feel better]

Also, the backstory of the making of this film is so out of control: Robert Stephens’s nervous breakdown and suicide attempt during the production, the amount of years Billy Wilder was trying to write it and get it made, the interference of ACD’s son, the Loch Ness monster prop that the crew lost in actual Loch Ness, the immense scope of the episodic story they were going for, the way it got cut down from its original 3 hour 45 minute runtime and how that cut footage was lost forever! (this is crazy! everyone go check your attics and storage lockers right now).

In one of the interviews I found, Robert Stephens says “if something is boring — if it’s three minutes long it’s too long, but if it’s interesting it’s never long enough…you don’t want it to end.” Big same Toby Stephens’ dad, big SAME. I didn’t want it to end. I read the uncut script and I am just floored at what we missed out on. Thankfully some footage and audio remain of some of the cut scenes (but still! check your basements too).

Just fully let it settle into your brain that they filmed all of these stories in the script, and then cut most of it away. Like that is mind-blowing to me, it existed at one point as it was fully intended to be. If this was made now during home entertainment times, they would have no problem releasing an almost four-hour movie, but at the very least there would be a big director’s cut dvd release and we would be enjoying all the small Holmes x Watson moments we deserve.

Anyway, in pretty short order I found a bunch of interesting links to stuff, details below. I also consulted my very well-thumbed Conversations with Wilder book by Cameron Crowe, but there wasn’t that much more information in there. I have Robert Stephens’ memoir Knight Errant and the TPLOSH blu-ray on order so I’ll add to this post if I find any more good resources. Let me know if I’m missing anything, and enjoy!

Full movie on YouTube (x) <-update: this link went private, but it's also streaming for free on Tubi and Freevee, and available to rent on YouTube, Google Play, and Apple TV

Original roadshow draft of script on Internet Archive (x)

Missing footage: Prologue [sound only plus stills] (x), The Curious Case of the Upside Down Room [sound only plus stills] (x), The Dreadful Business of the Naked Honeymooners [footage and soundtrack only, no sound dialogue] (x), alternate ending [sound only] (x)

Making of documentary that includes behind-the-scenes snippets of some of the cut scenes [this doc is in German, but you can turn on the auto-translate to English in the YouTube settings] (x)

Interview with Ernst Walter, film editor of TPLOSH (x)

Interview with Christopher Lee “Mr. Holmes, Mr. Wilder” 2003 (x)

My YouTube playlist with all of the above links in one place plus an excellent fan vid by Just Bee that I added to the list because it’s just so good (x)

Missing Movies: A Case for Sherlock Holmes from 1994 BBC Radio 2 on Soundcloud [includes interview with Robert Stephens and folks involved in the production] (x)

Articles about the lost Loch Ness monster prop (x) (x)

The soundtrack by Miklós Rózsa (x)

[wolfofcelestia]

Welcome! Now that this blog has been fully converted into a Zayne loveblog, I've finally decided to make an actual introduction.

─── ･*☆･ﾟ: 𝓣𝓱𝓮 𝓑𝓵𝓸𝓰𝓰𝓮𝓻

My name is Elara (she/her). I am an adult and will be posting adult content. Minors, blank blogs, art theives, and toxic people will be blocked

Most of what I write here will be about fictional boys voiced by Satou Takuya

Most of my analysis posts are usually very stream of conscious-y because I never stop thinking about this stupid ice man

Sylus will also appear on my blog. He's settled in as my second favourite so he will be around too

─── ･*☆･ﾟ: 𝓣𝓱𝓮 𝓦𝓻𝓲𝓽𝓮𝓻

I write when my brain allows me to. Most of what you'll see here are short clips of dialogue, headcanons, scenarios, and scenes in the style of LADS's social media posts. These snippets tend to be comedy, fluff, smut, angst, and occasional dark content

Got a request? Feel free to drop an idea in my askbox. No guarantees it will get filled, though

─── ･*☆･ﾟ: 𝓣𝓱𝓮 𝓨𝓾𝓶𝓮𝓳𝓸𝓼𝓱𝓲 💙❤️🩵

This blog is my self-indulgent yumejoshi (self-insert) safe space, with my F/Os being Shokudaikiri Mitsutada and Rei.

I am extremely sappy and sentimental. Also extremely thirsty. I am parched. Dehydrated. I just have a lot of feelings for these boys. If you have a problem with that, feel free to block or unfollow me. You don't need to be in my space.

─── ･*☆･ﾟ: 𝓣𝓱𝓮 𝓦𝓮𝓵𝓬𝓸𝓶𝓮

Thanks for stopping by and reading this far! There's more information about my name and Rei under the cut below for the curious.

Feel free to have a look around and interact with me whenever you like! I’d love to hear what you think of my ideas.

All of my writing can be found in my blog directory.

Quick tags:

─── ･*☆･ﾟ Zayne, Dawnbreaker, Foreseer, Master

─── ･*☆･ﾟ Scenarios, Headcanons, Poems

─── ･*☆･ﾟ Vampire AU, LADS Soundtrack, Zayne Tier Lists

─── ･*☆･ﾟ Hunter's Diary, Glint Photos

─── ･*☆･ﾟ Zayne Favourites, Sylus Favourites

─── ･*☆･ﾟ: 𝓣𝓱𝓮 𝓦𝓸𝓵𝓯 𝓸𝓯 𝓒𝓮𝓵𝓮𝓼𝓽𝓲𝓪

A rough translation of my Saniwa username: 天狼星

This is the star Sirius, which roughly translates to "heavenly wolf star" in Chinese/Japanese.

I wanted a daimyou-style title for my saniwa self-insert, so it turned into Wolf of Celestia.

Don't be fooled by the name, though. I'm actually just a smol wet puppy burdened with feelings for boys who don't exist.

─── ･*☆･ﾟ: 𝓣𝓱𝓮 𝓜𝓸𝓸𝓷 𝓟𝓻𝓲𝓷𝓬𝓮𝓼𝓼

“Elara” is the name of one of Jupiter's moons. In Greek mythology, she is a mortal princess with an unfortunately lame story. But I liked the sound of the name so I kept it.

The pronunciation on wikipedia is EL-ara. I also accept el-ARA.

─── ･*☆･ﾟ: 𝓣𝓱𝓮 𝓑𝓻𝓮𝓪𝓴𝓮𝓻 𝓸𝓯 𝓓𝓪𝔀𝓷

You may have noticed that I call him Rei in some posts and Zayne in other posts. Sometimes even in the same post, like this one. This is a very deliberate choice.

I first learned of his existence from Satou Takuya retweeting one of the promo videos for the game before it was released, so even before Day 1, I knew him as Rei. (And I was downbad for him without even knowing a thing about him.)

He is still Rei to me and always will be, but for ease of communication, I call him Zayne.

Long story short,

I call him Zayne when:

I'm referring to his character in general

I'm writing something meant for the rest of tumblr to reblog or engage with

I call him Rei when:

I'm referring to "My Rei", the Rei in my game, and the F/O of my yume ship.

─── Usually used in personal posts about my sappy feelings, not really meant to be engaged with

I'm referring to the character who is voiced by Satou Takuya and speaks Japanese.

─── Usually used to comment on SatoTaku's voice work specifically

─── ･*☆･ﾟ: 𝓣𝓱𝓮 𝓒𝓸𝓵𝓸𝓾𝓻𝓼

In my scenarios, I usually put dialogue and emphasized words in certain colours

MC is red because… put simply, that’s my colour

Zayne is always blue

Foreseer is always purple

Master is always green

But because tumblr is mostly in dark mode and I’m too lazy to add colours that aren’t on the default options, Dawnbreaker is usually red

Because if he were to choose a colour, it would always be hers

The only time Dawnbreaker isn’t in red is when MC is in the same scenario. In those cases, Dawnbreaker is the default text colour, relinquishing his colour to her

Because he would choose to be empty if it meant he could stay with her for just a little longer

That's all for now! I'll keep this updated if I need to add more links or information.

Final note: Yes my whole aesthetic is space and stars. Yes, my main is 10000% Rei LMAO I am so sorry Seiya

Dividers by saradika-graphics, cafekitsune

[goatunderthebridge]

that pretty boy just bit me! he bit me! are you fucking kidding me-?

thinking about the hq characters whenever I listen to the Warriors album that came out recently (I actually really like it - I watched the film as a kid when I shouldn't have and was so scared of it that this album has healed that fear a little - the bottle clinking is still the soundtrack for my nightmares though).

yes I have daydreamed the entire story, yes you will see snippets of it if this stays latched on my brain for long enough. for now, enjoy my match-ups of hq characters to the main gang members because I have been thinking non-stop about how easy it is to transfer their personalities over since the album was released. if you know nothing about The Warriors (book, film, or album), this will probs not make much sense but enjoy anyways!

tw for anyone who needs it: The Warriors is about gang violence and murder so caution engaging with it + this post thus mentions it briefly

The Gramercy Riffs = Aoba Johsai

Oikawa is absolutely Cyrus who believes in everyone to come together for a common dream (and in turn they build a belief in him). Iwaizumi is Masai and grieves so hopelessly for Oikawa. Aside from the devastating iwaoi, it's funny on a meta-level to imagine Oikawa saying "can you dig it?" when thinking about his serves like no they can't dig it babe !!! But we love you king

The Warriors = Karasuno

Ofc Karasuno are the stars of this daydream. Daichi is Cleon who helps Iwaizumi find the killer gang, obviously renamed Odysseus because that man just wants to go home (although he would defo believe in Oikawa's ideals and want to set things right, even at the expense of himself). Kageyama is his right hand man, Swan (renamed King ofc), and leads the gang back home - imagining Kageyama saying that he has a gang loyal to him makes me want to cry when thinking about hq, trust me and listen to the album whilst imagining Kageyama as Swan. It will change your life.

Suga is Cochise (renamed Polaris/Sirius bc symbolism), Asahi is Rembrandt, Noya is Ajax (we love a fighter who refuses to back down from a challenge), Tanaka is Cowboy (ofc he gives in to the Sirens), Tsukishima is Vermin/Snow (renamed to idk something like Clock bc he tsks a lot and it sounds like ticking), Yamaguchi is Fox and I cry every time I think about him as Fox (currently listening to that song and sniffling as I type). Hinata absolutely is Mercy (renamed Sunshine or something) and I cannot listen to A Light Or Somethin' without thinking about kagehina. They like and want each other instantly but can't express that in the 'right' way !! Kageyama lifting Hinata's face when he's embarrassed being seen by others and then kissing him??? Oh. oh the humanity.

The Rogues (killer gang) = Shiratorizawa or Johzenji

Ahhh the killers (no, not Mr Brightside). I love Luther's character because he is so unhinged for little reason which is why Tendou springs to mind BUT I cannot see Tendou in this. So my mind goes to Terushima (likes fun and pushes boundaries => obvs transfers to being a maniacal villain who kills for no reason (jk)).

The Hurricanes = Nekoma

I just love the idea of these guys acting as alley cats on skates. that is very funny to me. Also: Kenma on skates?? I love that visual. I fully believe he would hate it and either be the only one in the gang to walk or is dragged around by a leash so someone pulls him along on the skates OR Kuroo straight up carries him. Anyways: Kuroo is the gang leader, Kenma is the one who convinces them to let the Crows go because he uses one of his many braincells to realise that they absolutely didn't kill Cyrus (unlike many others in this story).

The Furies = Fukurodani

If you haven't listened to the song about them, please do. I get chills every time - they only come out at night?? Oh yes please, the ideas are flowing. These are the Night Owls with metal bats and painted faces. Bokuto is the leader but I can't imagine him to be willingly silent in a gang hmmm.

The Orphans = Inarizaki

Atsumu and Osamu as twin leaders of a weak but large gang makes me giggle okay? Hinata calling them chickens and trying to get into the Crows' gang? yeah i like that idea. Also the idea that Atsumu follows the vibe of the music album by letting the Crows walk through Orphan Town after flirting with Kageyama and Yamaguchi makes me laugh.

The Lizzies = The Sirens (aka any pretty people in hq not already mentioned in a gang)

Kiyoko is a given as the gang leader who Tanaka falls for and derails the Crows for a little bit. However, as the title suggests, the lines 'that pretty boy just bit me! he bit me! are you fucking kidding me?' are really catching onto my brain and I can't stop vocally stimming with it so maybe we follow ennotana and let Ennoshita bite Tanaka idk.

Honourable mentions: UshiTen as the radio DJs.

That's it. You read it right. Tendou is the radio DJ calling out to the boppers and chilling me to the bone but Ushijima is the one behind the scenes whenever I think about this, ensuring the radio show goes smoothly lmao

And I'm finished :D I really had to get this out lmao I cannot stop thinking about this nor stop listening to the album so this will be something I obsess about for a while longer !!! If you see references to it in future fics, no you don't <3

[vera-king-hrfl]

I'm not really sure how to introduce this one. It's a continuation of the Zevlor story that's quickly becoming a novel. But I'm posting it for you guys because it's kind of a snippet. It's after we find our man in the illithid colony, and he finds out what happened while he was enthralled. A brief warning. There is some angst, emotional pain, a little self-harm, and major feelings here. No smut in this one. It's also a pretty long scene. I did cry while writing it. I'm not sorry.

Tav is based on my current, who is a noble high elf silver dragon disciple. Highfalutin, I know, but that's what was in my head.

You approach Gale with a bit of trepidation. You're not sure if he'll agree, or even if your idea will work, but you have to try. Zevlor needs his people on his side. Or, at least, for them to understand what actually happened in those dark lands, when he was taken by the Absolute. But you couldn't be the one to do it.

As you move to stand near the wizard, sitting cross-legged on a mat and reading some dusty book you'd found in the house of healing, he looks up and smiles. "Greetings, Tav." Seeing the expression on your face, he rises with a look of concern. "My, you seem agitated. How can I help?"

You bite your lip and take a breath, then speak, your voice tight and apologetic. "I need a favor. If it's not... if you can manage it." 

He nods, taking your hand and pressing it. He can be so sweet sometimes. "If it is in my power, I shall do my utmost. What do you need?" 

You nod and squeeze his hand, grateful for his friendly devotion. "How are you with... mental domination?" 

His eyes widen a little, but he smiles. "I can cast the spell. Depending on the intended victim, I suppose I could maintain it almost indefinitely, as long as there are no other distractions. The power and duration really depend upon my concentration and the target's resistance. But so can you. Why? Who are we dominating today?"

You worry your lower lip with your teeth again and shake your head before continuing. "It cannot be me. They all know... look, Gale. We both know how powerful the elder brain is... with an unprepared mind, it would be almost impossible to resist its influence. Is that right?"

He nods slowly. "Yes, of course, but... oh, I see." He catches on quickly, you reflect, as he works out for himself what you want. "Let me see if I can guess your thought process. I assume this is in reference to your Hellrider and how his people have been treating him since... all that. You want to show them that what happened was not his fault, and you think a little demonstration of that kind of power would be a good way to do that. You can not perform this feat yourself because of your known association with him, so you want me to make a tiefling stand on one foot or something to demonstrate how easy it is to lose oneself in the face of strong magic." He ruminates for a moment, looking thoughtful, then shrugs and smiles. "I don't see that it could hurt to try. Courtesy dictates that I must warn the person I am to control, but even then, I should be able to hold them to my will for some time. May I involve another of our group?"

You nod. "If you think it will help. I can't really keep secrets from any of you anyway. Who are you planning to bring?"

He squeezes your hand and nods decisively before releasing you. "I had a thought to take Karlach with me. She's a tiefling, and she well knows how it is to be compelled to do things she doesn't want. I will go immediately. I saw a group of refugees in the inn recently. I imagine they haven't gone anywhere. I shall do my best to make them understand. Who is the intended target?" 

You watch Gale as he nearly bounces on his toes, seeming eager, as always, to demonstrate his skill. "Whoever is the strongest. But... well, don't hurt anyone or humiliate them too much. Just... never mind, you know what to do. It is in your capable hands."

Gale grins and bows. "My lady, I live to serve. Rest a while. You've been burning the candle at both ends lately, and you're a bit overwrought. Stay near. I'll come find you when I'm finished."

You watch him as he heads off to find Karlach and the other tieflings. You are overwrought, nervous, your concern over Zevlor and the refugees, the remaining Chosen, and the Elder Brain mingling and draining your mental faculties. You wander back to your own tent, sitting on a cushion just outside the flap and trying to meditate for a little while to clear your head. 

After what seems like ages, but is probably closer to half an hour, you sense Gale and Karlach returning, open your eyes, and struggle to your feet, trying to read their expressions. As they draw near, you can see that they are both smiling. Gale with an expression of satisfaction and Karlach a cheeky grin, bouncing a little as she approaches. She looks around when she arrives, before speaking at half her normal volume. "It worked! You're a genius, Tav. Cal volunteered. He hopped on one foot and everything! Gale was even going to make him slap Lia, but I stopped him, so he grabbed Dammon with the spell too and made them dance together! There was nothing they could do about it." She slaps Gale on the back, and the wizard wheezes, but looks pleased nonetheless. 

"Yes indeed," he continues with a smug expression. "Rolan has the strongest mind, but I do not think he would have taken my meddling with it lightly. So I thought maybe, if I dominated two of them at once, when they were prepared for it... and I made it quite clear that my powers do not nearly match those of the brain. I think it's had the desired effect. I believe Tilses went to look for him. She has been on his side the whole time anyway, and the others seem prepared both to apologize and forgive."

You blow out a breath and sag with relief. It was a long shot, and could have gone quite badly, especially with Rolan being so protective of his siblings... But hearing that your plan had worked was a welcome bright spot in an otherwise trying day. You pull them both into a hug, Gale grunting with wounded dignity and with the pressure of the grinning tiefling’s muscles crushing you both, thank them profusely, and then head off to look for Zevlor. Maybe this news would help with the deep depression he'd been struggling with since you rescued him.

The soft call of the scale you'd planted on him leads you toward Rethwin Town. As you approach the mason's guild, you see that Cerys, as well as Tilses, are standing near the doors, heads together in a fervent whispered discussion. You are opening your mouth to greet them when you're startled by a crash from inside, and the crunch and rattle of splintered wood. Cerys notices you first, and waits for you to arrive with a concerned expression. They're both looking at you nervously as another burst of noise echoes from beyond the half open doors, causing them both to flinch as you hurry over. 

Noting your concern, Tilses raises her hands, palms facing you. "He's not in any trouble. At least, not from fiends or undead. His only enemy is... well, himself." 

Your eyes widen. "Zevlor is making those noises?"

She nods, voice low, "yeah, the Commander is in a state at the moment. We came looking for him and heard the crashes... we thought he was being attacked. But... He's alone in there. At first he was shouting about being weak and unworthy, but then... well, he just started tearing the place apart."

You turn to go into the building, but Cerys catches your arm. "You might not want to go in there, Tav. He's unhinged. I've never seen him in this mood before. He might be... dangerous." 

You smile reassuringly and pat her hand. "He won't hurt me." Though, with the sounds coming from beyond the doors, you're not quite so sure as you pretend. "Go back to the inn. Please. If... if anything goes wrong... I can defend myself, but I don't want you in the crossfire. Just in case."

They exchange a long look, but then nod. "Very well," Tilses says quietly. "If anyone can help him, it's you. We know him, but he may be embarrassed... I know he thinks very highly of you." She grips your arm, a plea in her eyes, and then she and the other woman move off, looking over their shoulders once or twice. You wait until they are out of sight, and then take a deep breath and turn toward the doors. 

It is dim and dusty in the building, golden motes drifting through the newly revealed sunbeams that are filtering through holes in the battered roof. There is a flurry of movement in the back room, and you pass through the second set of doors just as Zevlor seizes a thick, rotten log from a cradle by the ruined fireplace and rips it in half with his bare hands. He casts the pieces aside and paces the width of the room, his hands shoved into his hair. There is blood on his face and hands, spattered on his dully gleaming armor, and a wreck of shattered crates and tools is scattered about. Your heart aches for him, but you hold your tongue for a moment as you sidle through the door and stand next to it, leaning your back against the wall. 

He doesn't notice you at first, so great is his distress, and in the relative quiet, you can hear him whimpering to himself, his voice hovering on the raw edge of sanity. "I tried. I'm so sorry. I wasn't strong enough. They're dead. They hate me. They're right to hate me. It's all my fault. If I had only been stronger..." He grabs another crate and sends it hurtling into the stone wall, where it explodes in a shower of splinters and small nails. You turn your head, but don't move, feeling a few shards pepper the side of your face. He turns back to pace in the other direction, stumbling and nearly falling over as he finally catches sight of you. He freezes and his eyes go wide, orange rings in deep black, shining in the gloom. His mouth wags for a moment, but then firms as he turns his face away. 

His words are a low, pained growl when he finally speaks. "You shouldn't be here." His hands flex, and you see that some of his claws are broken, his fingertips bloody. "I couldn't bear it if I... I  killed them. Leave, before I..."

You stand away from the wall, approaching him slowly, staying well out of his reach, but preparing a shield just in case. "We both know that's not true," you say quietly, your own hands wringing at your robes. "You weren't in control of..." 

He cuts you off with a roar, swinging his fist until it meets a supporting beam with a loud crack of splintered wood. The edifice sways, and dust and bits of ancient birds nests filter down from above. He's not a big man, but in this extremis he's terrifyingly strong, and you hope he doesn't manage to bring the whole roof down on your heads. "But I am responsible! I led them, it was me that... I..." He winces, looking at his hand in confusion, and you see the flash of white bone peeking through his scraped, ruby skin. Dark blood drips onto the floor from his torn flesh, drops scattering among the dust and ashes. "I wasn't good enough for them. I'm not strong enough, couldn't resist her. They're dead because of me. You don't want to associate... I've failed everyone. You deserve someone who..."

He stands there trembling for a moment before looking up and quickly striding toward you, raising his wounded hand to shove you back against the wall, your head hitting the stone so hard you see brief stars drift across your vision. He's on you in an instant, mouth crushing yours, bloody fingers pulling at your clothes. You feel all of his rage and shame and desperation as he kisses you frantically, his teeth cutting into your lips. You let him tear at you, neither returning his violent kiss nor trying to push him away. You're slightly dazed when he suddenly gasps and rips himself away from you. He pants, eyes blazing... "Gods I... I'm... you see? Im no good to anyone. I could have..." He reaches out as if to touch the drop of blood oozing from your bruised lips, a horrified expression on his face, but the lowers his eyes and drops to his knees before you. He covers his face with his hands and keens. "You don't want to be near me. Nobody wants to be near me. I see their faces when... you should leave me. I could never... never be good enough for... I'm not the man you..." he stops, shaking silently in the dust, ragged breaths filtering through his hands. 

You stand still for a moment, stunned, but then slowly let yourself sink to the floor, sliding your back down the wall until you’re sitting before him. You keep your tone gentle, "I am perfectly capable of judging for myself what kind of man you are. Here." You reach out and, ever so gently, ease his hands from his face, being careful not to put pressure on the broken one. He resists at first, but then relents. You inspect his bloody hand, lamenting to yourself that you cannot heal him, but you let coolness flow from your fingers, hoping to soothe him and ease the pain into numbness. "Hold still," you say as you release his fingers and reach beneath the hem of your robe to tear a strip from your linen under tunic. He flinches at the ripping sound, but keeps his hand stretched out before him, breathing harshly. You carefully wrap the linen around his hand, sinking a deeper cold into his inflamed flesh as you delicately press on the exposed little bone, easing it back into place and pinching the skin together before wrapping his palm firmly and tucking the end of the makeshift bandage under itself. You cradle the wounded appendage and reach out with your other hand, cupping his cheek lightly. His eyes are wide, sparkling with unshed tears, his mouth working in shock, lip trembling. You lean forward a little to hold his eyes, keeping your voice soft, soothing, "you do not have to carry the world on your shoulders, my love. Let me take some of the weight. Come here."

A silent tear tracks down his ravaged cheek, but he allows you to draw him toward you, laying his bandaged hand on your lap and shifting him so he's sitting before you before pressing his face into your shoulder, lifting your chin to avoid his horns. He curls his tail around himself and hesitantly wraps his good arm around your back, and you hold the armored tiefling close as his lean frame hitches and trembes with silent, heart-wrenching sobs.

The fading beams have crawled a long way up the wall before a low voice nudges you out of your doze. "My. Aren't you two a mess." Zevlor is cradled in your arms, having fallen into a deep sleep after crying himself out. Shadowheart crouches next to you, her expression unusually soft, and looks you over. You know you must look shocking, with your lips bruised and cut, and little streaks of dried blood on your face, your eyes puffy from weeping with heartache over Zevlor's pain. She reaches out and brushes a lock of hair out of your eyes, dropping her voice to a quiet whisper. "We saw the other two return, but it took a while to get it out of them. We waited as long as we dared, and then I came because, well, I'm the most subtle." She smiles. "Good thing too. You look like you both could use a little attention." You nod and shift slightly, letting her see Zevlor's hand, wrapped in the bloody bandage on your lap. He tenses a little, tightening his grip on you and murmuring into your robe, but doesn't wake, such is his exhaustion. Shadowheart reaches out, very lightly touching her fingers to his, and whispers the spell. His breath hitches and he shudders as the tingling power filters through him, but then sighs, seeming to feel the relief even in his sleep. She heals you next, the sensation making your skin prickle with gooseflesh, but you feel the small cuts close and the bruises fade.

"Thank you," you mouth silently, and she nods, leaning back on her heels. 

"We will leave you alone as long as you wish. We just wanted to know you were safe." Her expression becomes thoughtful. "You love him." Her own nod follows yours, and she reaches out to brush one knuckle down your cheek before standing. "I'm happy for you. Truly. I will tell the others you are both alright. Take as long as you need. You deserve to be happy." Her smile is almost sweet as she turns away and silently exits the room. 

The last light is fading when Zevlor stirs against you. Slowly he turns, easing himself around in your grasp until his eyes, just a flicker of fire in the darkness now, gaze up at you. His voice is a husky whisper, "did you mean it? What you said, before. You called me... or, maybe I was dreaming." He closes his eyes for a moment and sighs, a soft, happy sound. "If so, it was a wonderful dream."

You look down at him with a soft smile and bend your head to place a light kiss on his full lips. "I did. And you are. Ai armiel telere maenen hir, Zevlor, and I can only hope you feel the same." He sits up, keeping his arm about you and chuckling softly, looking at you with undisguised adoration. 

"I don't know what that means, but I think I can guess. I can see it now, in your eyes." He cups your cheek with a gentle hand. "Are you certain this is what you want? Me? Because, I know... my heart is yours for as long as I draw breath. I love you. So very much." You nod yes, and he slowly leans toward you, taking a deep trembling breath before pressing his lips softly to yours. 

Zevlor kisses you chastely for a little while, his lips and hands full of tenderness, before placing a kiss on your forehead, and then resting his own against yours. "Very well, my lady. Together, then." His words are a feather brush against your lips. "But you need me at my best if we are to prevail in this... I will seek the Oathbreaker Knight."

[childotkw]

Hi! I'm a fan of your Lucemond content and I'm finally brave enough to ask about your "Dichotomy of Loyalty" AU (that is if you're okay with answering). What exactly happens during Lucerys's abduction / forced familial reunion? Your post says that the house is ransacked, Laenor is gone, and there's a black car outside. What goes on during Lucerys's last minutes of freedom before he is brought back into the family?

Does he attempt to call the police and find a hiding place? Does Aemond pop out like Michael Myers if he's inside the house or does he force his way in? If Laenor has a weapon someplace (despite wanting a normal life, the man has to be aware that he's a fugitive in the mafia underworld now and needs to have a just-in-case weapon handy), does Lucerys try to reach it? Or does Lucerys arm himself with a knife and a near reenactment of what happened years before take place between him and Aemond?

I'm sorry to force this on you, but this time placement in your AU is probably the most suspenseful and action-packed scene. Would it be alright if I ask more questions I have on this AU or do you want your focus on your other writings? Thank you so much for sharing your creations!

Hello, darling! Thank you for your message 💕

Lucerys was actually meant to be at their home when it got raided. They’d been watching and following him for weeks before they made their move, learning his habits and schedules and confirming that he was actually their Lucerys.

Normally, Lucerys would have finished work early on Fridays, but something came up and he had to stay back - which wasn’t uncommon but it hadn’t happened since the Targaryen’s had begun their reconnaissance. So they raided the house, expecting both, but it was only Laenor there at the time. They took him and threw him in the second car, then settled in to wait.

Lucerys came home, and when he found the house wrecked he immediately tried to phone Laenor, and then the police. Before the call went through, he was grabbed from behind - but Lucerys, despite being small and looking soft, did know some self-defence. His elbow slammed into the guy’s face, and the second he was released he bolted.

Unfortunately though, Lucerys couldn’t outrun the men sent to retrieve him. He was subdued, knocked out, and whisked away.

Aemond was, in an impressive show of restraint on his part, not actually part of the retrieval team. Everyone, including him, knew that if he had been there, there was the chance that he’d be too emotional and things might go wrong. Instead, he was waiting at the main house for the men to return.

When they did rock up with an unconscious Lucerys something loosened inside Aemond, because they had suspected that Lucerys had no memories of them or their family, but not everything about his nephew was lost. There was still that savagery in his blood, the savagery that sang out to Aemond, evident in the bruise forming on one guard’s cheekbone, the deep scratches on another’s arms, and the scuffed clothes and cut eyebrow of the other.

And feel free to ask me whatever you like! I don’t always write snippets, but who knows - something you ask may kick my brain into gear!

[umbracirrus]

WIP Wednesday-!! 💛

I'm not sure why, but it felt incredibly hard to pinpoint something to post as a WIP this week! Maybe it's because my brain has been focussed on getting the smut which I posted of my idiots Elyse and Balgruuf finished... But anyway. Back to The Perfect Storm. Back to a time before they're happily married, or even together in the first place ;-; This snippet features a lil bit of main quest deja vu :3

Tagged by @hircines-hunter and @skyrim-forever! Tagging @thequeenofthewinter and anyone who wants to share a WIP!!

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

“M-My Jarl! Dragonborn-!” Elyse and Balgruuf were cut off from their conversation by a guard running over to them. Elyse recognised her straight away, it was Fjora – she looked out of breath and frantic.

“Take a breath,” Elyse stated, approaching her and taking hold of her shoulders as she clutched at her chest. “Has something happened?”

“A... A dragon. It came down the mountain and started attacking the road between here and the east. N-Near the Ritual standing stone...” Fjora’s free hand was shaking as she reached up to grasp hold of one of Elyse’s wrists. “I- I was told by the lad I was on patrol with to- to report to you moments before he- before he was-!”

Both Elyse and Balgruuf exchanged a concerned look as Fjora continued to breathe heavily, before slowly releasing her grasp.

“Thank you for letting us know. Go inform Commander Caius of what happened to your partner, then get some rest.”

“A... Aye, Jarl.”

Fjora looked between the pair as she pursed her lips together, before turning on her heel and quickly making her way out of the room. When the door fell shut, Balgruuf noticed that Elyse was slowly clenching and unclenching her fists. He made his way over to her, and placed a hand on her shoulder.

“Are you going?”

She was quiet for a moment, then nodded. “I have to. I am the Dragonborn after all...” She inhaled sharply. “This reminds me of that first dragon. When it attacked the watchtower... I’ve got that same anxiety that I felt back then.”

“Elyse...”

“It has been so long since a dragon has emerged to stir trouble. I’ve been keeping on my feet by training with Lydia and teaching Frothar, but a dragon...” She then folded her arms over and frowned. “But unlike then, I actually have some tricks up my sleeve... Like dragonrend.” In spite of her level tone of voice, her body was just noticeably shaking. “Divines... Can I even do it? I don’t know-“

“Elyse... You can do it. I believe in you. We all believe in you,” he whispered, taking hold of the sides of her face gently. “Take Lydia with you, if you feel that you need the support. By the Nine... I would even go with you to help, if not for my responsibilities keeping me tied to the palace.”

She was silent as she looked up at him, before she weakly smiled. “Thank you...”

[alwaysamage]

How Much is Too Much?

I am doing something very self indulgent and making 5 pathfinder 2e characters, and plan to run them through the Strength of Thousands campaign and write it up instead of like playing it at a table. Possibly even posting it or snippets of it to Ao3 for the fun of it.

Reasoning behind doing this is in part cause it’s a campaign I’ve desperately wanted to play since it was first released, and only got through about 1 out of its 6 books before the group fell apart. The other part is just self indulgent self insert with other characters based on characters from other media I’ve always liked/resonated with.

Now this campaign is a bit unique in that since everyone is a student at a magical university, it gives a bunch of free things towards character creation. The first being a free archetype in wizard or Druid, aka free 10 feats to do watered down Wizard or Druid. It also gives a number of skill/general feats and trainings thematic to your branches of the university. You pretty much need a whole extra page for your character sheet for these bonuses. On top of this I am also doing the dual class optional rule, cause I just always love playing characters with that. So right now I have 5 characters that have 2 full classes, 1 half class, and a bunch of extra skill based trainings and feats. And I’m giving them each a relic that will grow with them. At this point my brain is pulling out the Bilbo meme of “why not? why shouldn’t I?” and telling me to use the variant rule of ancestral paragon too, which would double the ancestry feats they would get.

So my question is, how much is too much? Or should I just go full camp and give them everything.

If it helps, while I haven’t settled in this idea yet, I’ve been debating deviating from the SoT campaign with this after book one or two and possibly having each of them chase personal goals (end enslavement of their people, make a country change their genocidal policies, bridge gaps between androids and humanoids, etc) with the possibility of running into the star stone and becoming gods after all that. So maybe they should have more?

[affixjoy]

What I’m working on this year:

Original writing:

Romance novella: this is 2/3 of the way done, deals with polyamory and endometriosis, very spicy. My goal is to finish it by the end of February and then decide if I want to self publish it or try to find an agent.

Romantasy novel: queer witches, disability, time loop stuff. This one started as my 2022 NaNoWriMo book and is also about 2/3 done! My goal is to decide whether I’m finishing it or trashing it, and if I’m finishing it have it done by the end of the year.

Ephemera novel: I’ve got an outline for this one, it will be told through “found” newspaper articles, blog posts, interview snippets… I’m excited about this idea and hoping to actually start writing it this year!

Short stories: I’ve got a few ideas for short stories I want to write, including one set in the future about kids “remembering” their past and family through the huge amount of data collected in their childhoods, one about sisters and climate change in the vein of Years and Years, a few little romance things…

I’ve also got drafts of two picture books I want to illustrate and self publish!

Fanfic WIPs:

My goal is to better balance my original writing and fanfic writing this year. 2024 was my year of lots and lots of fanfic, and it was excellent for my brain but less excellent for actually writing MY ideas. To that end, I’m mostly planning on using fanfic as a palate cleanser when I need a break from my stuff. Expect mostly short, smutty fics from me this year and fewer longer works—I’m not planning on doing any big events!

I am working on one Trek fic that I’m excited about though! I decided to challenge myself to write one that’s set up like an episode of TOS, with a science fiction mystery to be solved! It’s outlined and about 1/4 of the way written.

Oh, and yesterday @mcspirkevents released the prompts for McSpirk month and that certainly got some gears going in my brain… I will certainly have at least a few fics for that!

So wish me luck! Last year I wrote over 200,000 words, and I’m hoping I can write a similar amount this year! I’ve got a lot of exciting plans and I’ll be proud of myself if I can accomplish even one of them!

[afloralrib]

So, guys. I know we’re all wondering what’s going to happen in CoT, and that we’re wary about what CC might have done with Thomastair for good reasons. But, I’m actually hopeful?

You’re right, it’s foolish. And yet, I can’t help thinking that all the Thomastair snippets we’ve been given lead to the two of them sorting things out by CoT’s first half.

Of course, I don’t think all will be fine by then; rather, that Thomas and Alastair will have talked it out, and moved on to dealing with the Merry Thieves.

Why do I think that? Well, my brain’s been mulling over the snippets since they got out, which means you now have to hear my interpretation of them.

A warning: I won’t be posting spoilers about CoT’s leaked chapters, but there’ll be clear references for those who read them.

CoT was always starting in conflict considering how CoI ended, and that became even more evident when Thomas’s note - because it’s his note, let’s be honest - was released.

With its tone, the note mirrors Alastair’s to Thomas before the Townsend Musicale, back when the roles were reversed. It expresses care and longing; the need to be with the person you love.

Now Thomas’s in that position, and all the while having to figure out what’s happening between Alastair and Charles.

He’s with Kit when Alastair visits Charles, and he’s distracted by the ruckus upstairs. The scene is clearly from early CoT, as shown by the lack of communication between him and Alastair.

How do we go from them not communicating to sorting things out, though?

There must be at least one meeting - most likely accidental - in between the encounter at the Fairchilds’ and Thomas and Alastair’s eventual reconciliation. The snippets say so:

This means that Thomas and Alastair meet exactly one day after Alastair visits Charles. It’s really too short of a time for them to have sorted things out, and Thomas clearly doesn’t know anything about Alastair and Charles yet.

After that, it’s all left open to interpretation, but Thomas and Alastair meet again - this time in a carriage - not much later. And maybe, it even happens because Alastair gets Thomas’s note.

Regardless of the reasons, the carriage meeting will presumably represent the turning point in Thomas and Alastair’s relationship.

They meet, share a blanket, talk. They, believe it or not, discuss Charles. And while bringing him up will likely be related to something he did, it’ll also help Thomas and Alastair sort things out.

They’ll be forced to face their feelings, and between that and their newfound proximity, they’ll kiss. It’s only natural, and there’s an art which confirms it.

There are good chances, then, that the carriage meeting will bring major changes to Thomas and Alastair’s relationship.

While making them kiss doesn’t necessarily have to mean anything, it shows that Alastair is faltering; that he’s rethinking his position.

Having talked to him, there won’t be much left for Thomas to do outside of clearing the air with the Merry Thieves - with Matthew.

The only other Thomastair snippets CC gave us either see Thomas and Alastair being happy - the mistletoe, hopeful Alastair - or them effectively dealing with Matthew.

And to be frank, getting him to support their relationship will probably be Thomas and Alastair’s greatest challenge in CoT’s second half.

They’ll be talking about it when Matthew asks Thomas if he loves Alastair, and he’ll accept it throughout the course of the book.

Maybe not immediately, but eventually:

It’ll take a moment of great emotional or physical distress, but Matthew will come around.

[baradesign]

✏️, 🖊, 🌝, 🍰?

✏️ Do you write every day? HAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAAHHAHAHAHAHA.... no :V I've been trying to write at least for 1 hr each day, but that hasn't been hapening ;w; 🖊 Post a snippet from a current WIP. Beware!

“Home! I need to get home and help look for Sidon!”

“I know that, Link, but you can’t just go and search for him!” The blond chuffed at such a ridiculous statement. Of course he could just go and search for him. He could already be doing that if Pipit would just let him! He turned away from the brunet, as if to prove a point, and managed to take only a couple of steps before he felt Pipit’s hands hold him in place once again. “Link you can’t!”

“I can and I will!”

“No, you can’t! We’re on duty, Link. You’ll be a deserter! A traitor!”

“I don’t care!” Link felt the hands on his arm release him in an instant and, just as he thought the brunet had finally understood his urgency to leave, a sharp, burning pain coming from his scalp morphed his angry roar into a pitiful yelp. The hand grasping at the base of his ponytail pulled his head backwards with such strength that he could only throw his head back and follow its movement until his gravity center shifted and he found himself falling backwards against the wooden floor.

“Well, I do, and you should, too!” Pipit shouted from above. His enraged face put an immediate end to whatever stream of colourful language was about to come out from the blond’s mouth. Link was not used to seeing Pipit with such an expression, and by the looks of it, he was about to learn not to summon it again any time soon. “ A deserter, Link! Do you even understand what that means?! Is your fish-brain big enough to comprehend the meaning of it?! You’ll get court-martialed and probably imprisoned, since there is nobody here who can say you were being forced to leave your post! And even if I were to speak for you, what am I gonna say?! ‘Please, Your Highness, have mercy on this idiot. He suffered from a stroke.’?! You’d still get banished from Hyrule, at the very least! And where are you gonna go after that? You can’t go back into Zora’s Domain, so what’s your plan? Run away for the rest of your life, hoping to not be captured while trying to survive by eating nuts and berries like a squirrel? Go live up the volcano with the Gorons? Dress in fucking drag and get lost in the desert?!”

“I-I just-”

“No! You can’t possibly think you can ask me to just sit down and watch you do this. You. Just. Can’t!” Pipit stomped his boots against the dock, so close to the blond’s head, Link found himself flinching every time the sole made contact with the creaking wood. Blue eyes braved taking a look while the brunet struggled to catch his breath after the sudden outburst. He saw Pipit bit his lip and press a thumb and an index against his eyes, the fingers pulling on his sin as he dragged his whole hand against the side of his face. A deep groan left him, his usually energetic voice sounded as if he had aged ten years in the last ten minutes. “You can’t ask me to let you do this to yourself. You can’t…I hate nuts…I look awful in drag…” 🌝 Who is one character you haven’t yet written for that you would like to? To ot duplicate my answer, this tim I'll saaaaaaaaaaaaaaay... Gildan. I know he's an oc, but... I need to write him as an actual talking character. I NEED IT! 🍰 Name one of your fave comfort fics (doesn’t have to be your all time fave). These Tasks Three by @only-by-the-stars ! It gives me happy feels!

[venillopewrites]

August 2, 2023

I feel like an estranged aunt every time I return to this blog with news, but not a rich wine aunt but one of those aunt's who disappears into the woods for a few months and comes back with a pet skunk and a handful of berries.

WHAT'S DONE 🪐

➠ 3% of chapter 1 pt. 1 has been written! I know it doesn't sound like much but I'm vibing. With how I've outlined this chapter, 3% is a drop in the ocean. What was I thinking. Poor host, I love writing their existential crisis tho.

➠ The prologue is DONE! Or done enough to go through another round of testing and editing, and now I just have to check that all variables do what they're supposed to. Might even add more, knowing me and my wayward writing hands.

➠ The character profiles are coming! I'm just trying to reach my backup files because they got lost in the freak accident called 'Ven deleting stuff willy nilly and being a dumb'. Let's hope they're out there somewhere 🥹.

TO DO 🪐

➠ Still need to write chapter one, part one to completion. After that I can start thinking of demo release. Just saying that makes me shake in my boots!

➠ Check wtf I was thinking for ch1, pt2, because I have completely forgotten. Had to take a break and it just made my brain blank out 😶‍🌫️

➠ Post some character snippets! I have some very fluffy writings sitting in my notepad on the phone, drunk Ven really doesn't socialize but writes instead.

➠ Reintegrate to Tumblr. Be more active! I've missed so much during the impromptu break, breaks my heart 😞

While I've been gone from the online world, the game has been in the works. Things are going smoothly on that front! While I know the Tumblr for this game isn't popping off, I appreciate all of you who have had patience with me thus far 🧡 Good things are coming, I promise.

(There might also be a side project in the works, but that's still under wraps shhhh)

[griefabyss69]

07 hot mug please

Hot mug is something I started back before I even published my first fic on AO3 - it was originally a vent fic about being too broke to eat and turned into a "Steve is taking care of Eddie post-Vecna" fic with a fun little twist. My writing wasn't nearly as coherent back then and so while I have 8K in this fic, I need to rewrite it from the ground up to make it into something I can continue writing and finished. I haven't visited this fic in MONTHS, the last time I even touched it was in September and that was to rename it to my current organizational system. I love it, even if it needs some work <3 A big snippet of it, a fully coherent scene and everything: (contains: canon level injuries, painkillers, hospital mentions, rated like T for that stuff)

The first mug of coffee he has after getting ripped apart by the horrible (cool ass) bats in the horrible (sick) alternate dimension is at Steve Harrington's house.

Freshly released from a rushed hospital stay in an underground bunker, forced into Steve's guest room by circumstance and because Steve had been roped into being his nurse of all fucking things, he sat in Steve's kitchen. The stool at the island counter was completely unsupportive and so he mostly just slouched onto his elbows, trying to keep the pressure off of his injuries, but apparently if he popped a stitch or two then Steve could just fix it right up.

The bunker hospital was so much worse than Steve's house – as creepy as it is at night, like he's in the world's most boring art gallery after closing – but at least they had trained medical professionals there.

Hunched over the hot mug clutched in his hands, groggy in a way he never really feels, both the pain and the painkillers making him slow and still, he brings his face down into the steam. He took it black, just like he does at home (wherever the fuck that is now), but he's not sure if he even wants to drink it. He's had this feeling since he first woke up that anything he eats or drinks will just leak out of his sides, even though the doctors told him that the damage to his organs hadn't been so bad. He was all fixed, everything working just fine apparently, but he still checks his bandages after meals for signs of anything weird.

Inhaling the steam with a slow, deep breath makes him feel even sleepier, and his head starts to nod forward, making him jolt when the world tilts a bit.

"Don't fall asleep in that, you'll drown."

Steve sounds wide awake, full of life, almost chipper. Like a sitcom mom making eggs for her family. Eddie's mind supplies the laugh track.

"I'll grow gills," he mumbles, forcing himself to sit up straighter. He can't tell if he's blushing through the general haze he's in, but Steve's barely looking at him, spreading some jam on toast.

He watches Steve's hands as his own clench around the mug even tighter. The burn of it on his skin almost satisfies whatever the back of his mind is doing, the itching and gnawing in his muscles. The heat doesn't compare to the feeling of ambient warmth that he feels when Steve gets close, helping him change his bandages or look over all of his demonic body modifications, but he always takes what he gets.

"Eat this, I'll make you some real food in a while," Steve says, a plate with the toast on it in his hands, then on the counter in front of him. Steve and his hands go back to where he's making more toast, watching Eddie while he waits for it to pop up. "I just need to get groceries, it's been a while."

Eddie doesn't say anything, his sides throbbing even as his brain seems to get fuzzier. He woke up with the alarm that he had set to take more painkillers, and so he took more painkillers, but so far they're just killing his ability to think. He knows he wants to drink his coffee and eat the toast that Steve (lovingly, for sure) made for him, but all he does is watch Steve's hands. He doesn't know how to unstick himself to use his own.

His eyelids blink slowly and he feels like the air is swimming around him.

"Eddie?" Steve's good at staying calm, or sounding like he is anyway, even as he rushes over to get his hands on Eddie's shoulders, that beautiful warmth almost pressed up against his back. He's radiant with it, and despite the hot coffee, Eddie feels pretty cold.

Another slow blink, this time it feels like it takes forever and all of his energy to open his eyes again.

When he does, the world is tilting a lot more, with Steve's arms around him, supporting him as he carefully lays him out on the floor. Hands gentle on him, Eddie tries to keep watching them, checking his bandages for blood. One of the hands goes up to his periphery and brushes some of his hair aside to check his pulse. The other comes to hover over his mouth and for a second Eddie thinks Steve is going to cover it, like he wants to shut him up.

But he doesn't, Eddie doesn't really get what he's doing, but he seems satisfied after a minute and now Steve has his hands back to himself, fingers drumming nervously.

"Can you speak?"

Eddie can. He knows how, is super great at it. His mastery of words and ability to manipulate the world around him with his presentation of them is one of his greatest skills. He opens his mouth to inform Steve of this, figuring out how to make things move through the haze, ready to pretend he's offended to get Steve to stop looking so serious, but all that comes out is a reedy groan.

"Right. I'm taking you to the hospital. I'll be back in ten seconds, stay awake."

Steve disappears for, Eddie counts, seven missisisisipii's. He forgets how to spell it, but remembers how it sounds. He's got the cord from the kitchen's phone stretched over to where he crouches beside him, listening to the line ring.

Eddie knows he should’ve still been in the hospital, there's been a gut feeling from the moment they told him he was being discharged, but he doesn't want to go back. He'll never admit it to anyone but the place is scary, an eerie place like how in a horror movie a haunted house looks normal until the brand new family is all moved in. At least the Upside Down was honest about it.