#no idea how long the full thing will be. 70k words maybe? | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

ridiasfangirlings · 2 years ago

Text

Title: Lovely, Dark and Warm

Fandom: K Project

External: AO3

Pairings: Sarumi

Ratings/Warnings: M

Summary: Totsuka Tatara was dead, Homra was certain of that. But rumors persisted, that he had been seen wandering the alleys of Shizume, with blood on his shirt and a mouth hanging open.

In retrospect, that was how every zombie apocalypse started, after all.

Notes: So all the way back in 2013 I decided to try NaNoWriMo again. Previously I’d won ever year but never managed to finish a full story in 50k words and I figured hey, I can finish a fanfic in 50k words! Needless to say, I did not finish the fanfic in 50k words and it’s been sitting on my hard drive ever since. Last month I decided to try and finish it and well, the Great Unfinished K Zombie AU is no longer unfinished! I’m not sadistic enough to drop a 70k word fic all at once though so expect a new chapter every week or so. As this was originally written in 2013 there were a lot of things about K’s world that I didn’t know and while I did update some portions to fit current canon there are other parts that I left alone (the Greens will not be making any appearances here), please enjoy regardless.

Prologue

-9 months ago

First the body twitched. There was no breath in those lungs, no blood coursing through those veins, but even so the eyes opened — empty, lifeless, unseeing, but awake. And as they did ‘he’ could feel a bit of himself there.

He smiled and the corpse smiled too, in stilted harmony. Behind him the Slate pulsed like a heartbeat as a trickle of blood oozed slowly down the sides. In the silence he laughed as shadows spread across the Slate like crooked fingers, grasping that power and squeezing tight.

The corpse rose.

—

Neko circled the old gym mat once, twice, three times, and yawned. The day had been tiring and long but that was okay — she liked this place, the school on the island. She had been all around the school, in every possible corner, under the tables, on the rooftops. It was nice being a cat, because there was always something new and interesting to discover. Sometimes there were bad people, of course — often there were bad people, because Neko always found it easiest to classify people as simply ‘good’ or ‘bad’ and then reacted accordingly. The ones who kicked at her or yelled at her or tried to put her in cages were the bad ones, and she avoided them. The students usually ignored her and she made sure they couldn’t see her, because Neko had too many memories of being kicked at and yelled at and taunted by teenagers.

She had almost gotten a fish today. It had been sitting on a plate in the cafeteria, looking so fresh and tasty and ready for eating that she’d forgotten herself and jumped for it, and as a consequence she had nearly been caught by the cook. She’d had to make a run for it, zig-zagging her way through the crowd until she spotted the open gym and let herself inside. She was hungry and tired and took a moment to just lay on the gym mat, sneezing quietly as dust billowed up around her.

Sometimes Neko thought maybe it hadn’t been such a good idea to become a cat.

Suddenly there was a loud crash and Neko yowled, scrambling to her feet and falling head over tail straight off the gym mat, landing flat on her stomach. Something heavy landed hard on the mat and Neko backed away, hissing softly under her breath.

The heavy thing didn’t move and Neko took a careful step forward, curiosity overriding caution.

“Oh…” The heavy thing made a groaning noise, sitting up. Neko approached it carefully, ears pricked, nose twitching. White hair stood out starkly in the dim light of the gym as the person turned and looked straight at her — a boy, the same age as any of the students at the school, but with vague eyes and a different smell that she couldn’t quite place. Neko tensed and the boy extended a hand towards her. Neko eyed it with suspicion but the soft eyes made her curious and being curious made her interested. She took a step closer to him, prepared to run at any sign of a kick or a slap. The boy kept holding his hand out and finally she got close enough to almost touch it.

The hand touched lightly along her face, fingers just grazing her fur, and the boy smiled weakly. Neko hopped back up onto the mat so that she was right beside him, letting him pet her, and the hands only grew more gentle. It had been a long long time since anyone had been gentle with her, and Neko purred.

The boy laughed softly and then stopped and looked up as the door of the gym opened.

“Hello? Is someone here?”

“Ah…it’s…I’m…” Beside her the boy seemed flustered and lost, and the girl at the doorway was looking at him with confusion. That was bad. If humans made that look it usually meant kicks or yells, and Neko preferred everyone to get along.

There was the sound of a ringing bell and the boy smiled again.

“It’s me, remember? Isana Yashiro.”

— -6 months ago

Red fire licked at the walls of the hallway as the Red King burned his way forward, a firestorm made flesh, moving with a singular sense of purpose that was in some ways entirely unlike the usual Suoh Mikoto and yet still perfectly himself — a natural disaster of a man, who wrapped destruction around him like a mantle wherever he went. He was alone this time, but that didn’t matter now. He trusted the others to handle the trash downstairs. His prey was upstairs, at the top of the building. The Sword of Damocles hovered unseen above him, crumbling with the wild bursts of power he displayed, but that wasn’t something that bothered the Red King. He had more important things to worry about.

He was almost there. He could feel the Slate, always, and the person he was hunting was with it. Another hallway, another door, and he would be there. He smiled in anticipation.

And then another enemy emerged into the hallway, walking forward with a stiff unnatural gait, with an expression twisted around like something that didn’t even remember being human. The expression didn’t match ‘that person’ at all, but even so he still knew that face.

The feral smile on his face changed and grew soft, almost wistful, and he laughed.

“So, it’s you, huh?”

He attacked.

—

Yata coughed and choked as he dragged himself onto the street. His lungs were filled with water and there was blood streaked on his shirt, his hands, slippery between his fingers to the point that it was hard to pull himself to his feet. He knew that he hadn’t been bitten — a small mercy, at least — but he didn’t even remember being attacked. Rain was pouring down but the building behind him was on fire.

He didn’t know how he’d gotten out. He didn’t know why he’d gotten out, when he only wanted to be back inside, helping his King. He knew they’d been fighting, himself and Mikoto and Kusanagi and so many other members of the clan. There had been fire and blood and enemies everywhere. Whether the Gold King had been killed by the Colorless King or had just gone crazy himself nobody knew, but Mikoto had known the problem was with the Slate so that was where they had gone.

Yata coughed again and stumbled back into an alley. His wound was bleeding and he felt light-headed. If any of the damn zombies caught him now he would be toast. He looked up at the sky but he couldn’t see anything through the haze of rain and fog, not the highest levels of Mihashira Tower nor the Red King’s Sword of Damocles.

“Mikoto-san isn’t immortal,” the voice of someone irritating rang in his head and Yata clenched his teeth. The Sword was there. It had to be there. Nothing could defeat Mikoto-san, nothing. He was up there fighting, with Kusanagi-san and the rest. They were all alive and probably wondering where he’d gone.

Pain shot through his stomach and Yata swore quietly. It was so lame, so weak, that he couldn’t go back up. But they’d only made it inside in the first place due to Mikoto’s power and without it he doubted he could make it back in. Whatever damn King was in charge of the place probably already had more freaking zombie guards swarming over the lower levels where they’d gotten in the first time. In this state, he’d be more of a hindrance than a help. There was nothing else for him to do but go back to the safe house they’d agreed upon and wait for the others.

It was so lame. Yata smiled grimly through a mouthful of blood. Saru was going to mock him for this, too (but at least he’d gone on the raid, not hung back like a coward, so there). Yata took a deep breath and pushed off the wall, wondering if he had the strength to run.

He’d get to the safe house and wait for the others there. They would be along soon, once they finished their mission.

The Red King wouldn’t lose. Yata believed in that, and ran.

—

It was too late and he knew it.

He’d had to stay, to make sure the funeral rites were carried out properly, and he’d had to retrieve the sword. The orders had been very clear. Kuroh couldn’t leave for Shizume City without Kotowari by his side. He had done as ordered, followed every instruction to the letter, and somehow deep down he couldn’t help feeling that it was already too late.

Kuroh’s hand strayed to his pocket, where he held a rolled-up message written in his master’s hand. He longed to pull it out and read it, if only to see the familiar curve of the brushstrokes, the line of the gentle hand that wrote poems and held a sword with the same sense of grace in both, but he had been told to give it to one person and one person only. Kuroh was not one to disobey orders for the purpose of sentimentality and so until that time came Kuroh would not dare to look upon it himself.

“Master…” He turned back just once to look at the place he had previously called home.

“You will learn to serve another king again.” A prophecy, a promise, but though Kuroh couldn’t ever bring himself to disbelieve his master he couldn’t help but find those words folly. How could he ever find another master that would match up to the one he’d lost? But he’d been told so, and the things his master told him came true more often than not.

It itched at him even as he began to walk away. He had tarried too long, been too wrapped up in the homesickness of not wanting to go, as if by staying he could bring his master back. He only hoped he was not too late and that his master’s soul would forgive him if he was.

Kuroh swung the sword over his shoulder along with his carefully-packed satchel (filled with all the things his master had told him he would need, even if they seemed unimportant now) and pulled the small recorder out of his pocket. He pressed the button and smiled as a familiar voice came back to him.

“The snake’s tail seems long But only if looked at From a wrong angle.”

Kuroh breathed a heavy sigh, steeled himself, and began to walk.

Chapter One

The moment he saw the bar Yata felt his breath catch in his throat.

He’d been traveling for days now. He’d waited at the safe house as long as he could, letting his wounds heal and hoping that someone, anyone would come to join him. Any attempts at communicating with the others using his PDA had been futile. Mihashira Tower could still be seen in the distance, singed but standing. Yata hadn’t seen anyone come in or out but somehow the portions of the building that had been damaged in their attack were already being fixed.

There was no sign of the Red King, but Yata wasn’t giving up hope.

Anything was possible. Maybe the safe house hadn’t been an option. The damn zombies were everywhere now. The regular ones weren’t so bad — they were still dangerous, sure, at least to everyday citizens, but all it took was a bat to the head and they’d go down. The Strains, those were the problem. Whatever had turned the city into a war zone had warped them, making them more than just undead — they were damn monsters now, faster than the human zombies, stronger, more lethal. Sure, only a bite would infect you with the whatever-the-hell-it-was that made people zombies, but an infected wound from a knife-sharp claw could kill you just as easily. Getting as far as he had alive was only thanks to his speed and his powers.

The power of a Red Clansman, which sometimes seemed to sputter and die without warning, no matter what he did, and Yata didn’t even want to think about why.

He’d held out hope, though. He’d convinced himself that it would all work out once he got to the bar. After all, Kusanagi wouldn’t let anything happen to Bar Homra, right? He’d probably gone back there first. And even if he hadn’t, there would still be other members of Homra there to act as his backup. They’d sent Anna off with Kamamoto to hide just in case but there were plenty of other reinforcements waiting at Bar Homra. He just had to get there.

That guy would be waiting there for sure. Together the two of them could do anything, could figure out any problem, Yata just had to get to him.

For three days he’d kept that hope alive and now as he stared at the building — the door ajar, the windows broken and not a sign of life anywhere around it — Yata felt that hope sputter and die.

It couldn’t be. It just couldn’t be. Hesitantly, Yata took a step forward, glass crunching under his feet. The door hung loosely off its hinges and fell with a crash as he entered. The sound seemed almost too loud and Yata tensed, too aware of the position he was in. Going inside the building was dangerous if there were undead in there. He could be trapped easily, could be killed. But he had to know if anyone had made it. Yata steeled himself and went inside.

Kusanagi-san would have a fit if he was here, was the first thought to cross his mind as he stepped inside, a flame held in his hand like a lantern. The place was mess. The bar that Kusanagi had been so proud of was scratched and dented, nearly broken, splinters of wood marring the smooth facade. The bottles behind the counter had been smashed to bits and shards of glass littered the floor like a scattering of glitter, shining between the deep dark blood stains that marred the floor. The stools were torn up and overturned, and the sofa that the Red King had lounged on so many times was in tatters.

The entire place reeked of death and dried blood, sour in his nostrils and bitter down the back of his throat, and Yata felt his stomach churn. He had been in plenty of fights with various thugs and had seen carnage before but somehow seeing it directly in Bar Homra, in his home, was too much. He swallowed hard and carefully made his way up the creaking stairs to the second floor.

More carnage. Anna’s room was utterly destroyed, dresses and pillows tossed every which way. He moved into Mikoto’s room and peered into the bathroom, then froze. There was a body lying there in shower, ringed by blood, split open nearly completely, intestines and ribs exposed to open air and covered in flies. Yata forced himself to look at the face and recognized it as Yamada Daichi, one of the guys they’d left behind to guard the bar.

Yata stumbled backwards, one hand covering his mouth, eyes burning. He swore and turned to flee back down the stairs, unable to look at the body any longer. He supposed it was a small mercy, at least, that the zombies that had undoubtedly killed Yamada had at least not turned him while they were at it. Yata’s heart was pounding hard against his chest now as he climbed back behind the bar and headed into the back room.

That was one Homra member definitely dead. The others…Yata licked his suddenly dry lips. He didn’t want to think about that. Didn’t want to think about finding any more bodies.

Didn’t want to think about going back outside and recognizing a friend’s dessicated body shambling towards him, mindless and dead but still moving even though the soul had long since fled the body.

The back room was in even worse shape than the front. Even in the dim light he could see the blood splashes painting the walls in a mess of deep dark red . The door to the wine cellar seemed to have been broken open and lay in two pieces against the wall. Yata peered inside and immediately fell back, bile rising in his throat again.

The cellar walls were a mess of blood and grime, the wine bottles broken and long since drained dry. And there along the far wall, a single word written in blood by a trembling hand.

Misaki.

“S—” The word caught in his throat and choked him as Yata was assaulted by a sudden wave of grief so heavy he all but fell backwards out into the hall. There was only one person he knew who would write that, who would leave that there for him. A person who would have likely found themselves cornered in this very spot, fighting like a wildcat the entire way down as the zombies ripped him apart…

Yata fell to his knees and something brushed against his leg. He reached down and his hands closed over a single bloodstained knife. Yata stared at it, his hands shaking so hard he felt like he could break apart, and suddenly he could feel the tears welling up inside him as he pulled the knife close and the name tore itself like a sob from his throat.

“Saruhiko!”

–

Yata tucked the skateboard under his arm and looked quickly left and right before making his way into what had once been a grocery store.

He’d been using the place for three months now and he was still surprised that there was usable food left. Sure, meat was hard to come by — he had dreams sometimes, of barbecues on the beach and Kusanagi’s yakiniku — but the canned stuff still worked well enough. The freezers were all working so on his first trip he’d stuffed some bread and other things inside to keep them good until he could come back. There was no way to store food at his place, after all, and it wasn’t like he cared if some other poor guy managed to get to the stuff first. Everyone needed to eat.

He opened a juice box and took a sip as he slipped a few cans of peanut butter into his backpack. It was a lucky find, the grocery store. He hadn’t wanted to go too far from Bar Homra, not if he could help it. His own hiding place was in the old apartment complex down the street and as far as he knew he was the only living person still there. When he’d first claimed his spot he was pretty sure there’d been some people downstairs, but they either made a run for it or got killed and he never heard anything more from them or anybody else. It had been so long since he’d seen anyone that sometimes Yata felt like maybe he really was the only person left in the whole city.

Well, the only person besides the damn zombies, but there was no getting away from them.

Yata took another drink and scowled to himself. It had been nine months now. Nine months since he and Kusanagi had gone looking for Totsuka and had found an abandoned camcorder lying in a pool of blood on a rooftop. Nine months since they’d started hearing rumors of someone who looked like Totsuka wandering the back streets and hidden alleyways of Shizume City, attacking anybody who got careless enough to get close. Nine months since the epidemic began and swept through the city so swiftly and silently that no one really even realized what was going on until it was too late.

Nine months since everything had really begun, and six months since Yata, Mikoto and a handful of other Homra members had gone searching for revenge and failed. Six months, and still Yata hadn’t heard a thing. He didn’t know if anyone was alive, not Mikoto or Kusanagi or even Anna and Kamamoto, sent into hiding before the attack and unreachable ever since.

He knew Yamada was dead. He knew Bandou was dead too, because Yata had been the one to kill him when he’d run into his zombified comrade in front of the bar half a month ago. It had been harder to do than he’d expected but Yata knew he owed it to fellow comrade to do it. Yata would want someone to do it for him, if he ever got turned. It was hard, seeing a friend in that state — but somehow it was still better than not knowing too, better than constantly wondering what had become of the comrades he couldn’t seem to find.

Mikoto. Kusanagi. Anna. Kamamoto.

And….

Yata’s hands clenched around the small knife hidden in his pocket. He took it with him everywhere even though he never really used knives for fighting, and even if he did he wouldn’t use this one. It just made him feel better, having it there. It was the only memento of that person he had left, after all.

There were some people whose faces Yata desperately hoped to never see on a zombie and that person’s was at the top of the list.

Because he’d probably kick my butt, Yata thought with a small smile. He nodded to himself and started wandering through the aisles again. No point in lingering on the past, not now. Zombies would generally pass right by a building if there didn’t appear to be anyone inside but that couldn’t always be counted on, and the Strains especially noticed things the others didn’t. If a Strain wandered by outside it would be after him in a flash and he couldn’t afford to leave his rations behind, not this time. That was what had happened to him on his last supply run — he’d taken his time a little too much, made a little too much noise, and before he knew it a Strain was leading a pack of zombies through the store, all looking for him. Luckily his powers had held out and his skateboard had given him enough of a headstart that he’d been able to get outside and lose them, but he’d been forced to drop his supplies in the meantime and he’d been living pretty thinly ever since.

Yata knew a certain person would call him an idiot for not moving on and trying to find shelter somewhere else. Despite the moments he found himself thinking the opposite in truth Yata was sure that he wasn’t the only one alive in the city — he heard voices sometimes at night, whispering in the dark, and during the day he would occasionally catch sight of shadows moving furtively between parked cars and doorways, trying to evade the notice of the things that prowled the streets. Where they were going Yata had no idea. The city was blocked off, as far as he knew, and Yata had never managed to talk with anyone else long enough to hear rumors of anything otherwise. Still, with his powers he was sure he could probably find a way through the blockade himself and get out to safety. And even if he couldn’t escape, Yata knew the grocery store couldn’t last him forever and he’d be better off moving on to a new source of food.

But he couldn’t. He couldn’t leave Homra, because Yata couldn’t bring himself to believe that there was no one left alive but him. Eventually someone would come back to the bar and when they did Yata would be there waiting. Then together they could gather up the rest of the scattered remains of the Red King’s clan and find a way back into that building where Mikoto had said the enemy was hiding, and they’d have their revenge.

Yata tossed the last can into his satchel and swung it back over his shoulder, steadying his grip on his skateboard as he carefully navigated the aisles back to the doorway. Outside, the sky was hazy and the sun was shining too bright above, giving everything a strange dusky tint. The buildings all around the grocery store were already falling into disrepair, having felt the effects of those first few months when the zombies had started to overrun the city and the government had been nowhere to be found. Now it looked like a ghost town outside, with not a soul to be seen anywhere except the occasional carrion crow.

The thought made Yata smile a bit to himself. The crows were still making it, at least, so no wonder he was still here.

Yata slid his skateboard to the ground and pushed off into the street, reveling in the feeling of the wind across his face. The zombies were welcome to try and attack him but they’d have to catch him first, and Yata knew he could out-skate any damn dead corpse that tried. He laughed to himself and sped through the streets. Here and there he caught sight of a couple human zombies looking his way but none of them could even react fast enough to give chase when Yata had a really good skate going. He kept his wheels to the ground and flew.

For all he knew, Yata Misaki was the last of Homra and he would be damned if he let anything stop him now.

—

Yatogami Kuroh ducked around a corner and hid in the shadows as a pack of zombies thundered mindlessly past the open door. He was breathing hard and one hand clutched at the bleeding wound in his side, where he’d been unlucky enough to be caught by a clawed hand.

He had been trying to get inside the city for months now, to no avail. First there had been the police blockade, ostensibly set up to contain the ‘outbreak of poison gas’ that was supposedly affecting Shizume City. That had been easy enough for him to bypass but beyond it there was another barrier, one that no normal human could have made — a King’s barrier, glowing with an eerie blue light, and Kuroh had recognized it instinctively. He also knew that it was no use to try and break it with his powers, as the powers of a mere clansmen were worthless compared to those of a King.

Even knowing this, Kuroh had not given up. He had been given a mission, and he was not going to fail. He’d spent months prowling the border, trying to find a weakness. It was only a few days ago that he’d found it at last — a weak point in the middle of the water just around the place that had once been a high school on an island. He’d had to borrow a boat and made certain of his supplies before leaving — Master Ichigen had been very clear on what Kuroh should bring with him even if he hadn’t given his ward any idea on what those things were to be used for — and had sailed out to the very point where the barrier was thinnest. His own powers had been just enough to break it and at last he’d made his way to the mainland.

Kuroh wasn’t sure what he’d expected to find at the school island. Certainly he knew what was going on in Shizume City, or at least had some idea — the new Colorless King had taken over the city and the people inside had been hit with some calamity that was being covered up by the poison gas story. The note he’d been left by Master Ichigen made things clearer — the city had been overrun by walking corpses somehow controlled by the Colorless King, which roamed the streets attacking and killing all those unlucky enough to run into them. Even knowing this, Kuroh had held out hope that the epidemic had not reached critical stage yet, that perhaps he wasn’t too late and there were still people left to save.

There may still have been, but not at this school. He’d assumed that being separate from the rest of the city might have spared Ashinaka High but if anything it seemed to be the opposite. Infected undead Strains had made their way to the school grounds and the entire student body seemed to have been utterly wiped out. He’d been attacked by a group of them the moment he’d set foot on land, by what had once been a high school boy and two girls, now just crumbling shadows of themselves, eyes glazed and sunken, jaws dangling wide like wild animals, skin peeling off and flaking in places, clothes torn, bodies full of gaping wounds and open sores that no longer bled, their skin discolored and pale like the belly of a fish. They’d rushed him, hands reaching out, and Kuroh had made quick work of them with his own powers, slamming their heads into the ground and then making a run for the nearest school building.

He had been on the move constantly ever since. It seemed like the press of zombies was endless, coming at him everywhere he turned, every place he tried to hide. He had managed to avoid being bitten, which was a small mercy at least, but many of the undead students had grown sharp curved claws of bone in place of what had been their fingers that could slice through skin as easy as the blade of a knife. Worse still, there were at least three Strains that he had been able to document among the student body. They stood out amongst the students, their bodies having grown swollen and inhuman, backs hunched and muscles rippling like bloated blisters beneath their skin. The face of one had been completely twisted into a mess of sharp teeth, another’s arms had grown oversized like a gorilla’s with enormous hands that could crush bricks into dust with their power. The third had become thin like a snake, body almost oozing from one place to the next, eyes glowing eerily even in the dark.

The same plague that had made monsters of all the students had made no one more monstrous than the Strains, twisting their bodies beyond that of simple undead. They were also, it seemed, the only ones that had been able to maintain something like intelligence, herding together the normal students and urging them onto Kuroh like an alpha wolf controlling its pack. The gorilla-like Strain had been after him for two days, keeping up with him like a hound on a scent, and he’d been caught unawares a day ago while trying to catch a brief fitful moment of sleep.

The wound ached and Kuroh bit back a gasp of pain. He hadn’t been bitten, at least — if he had been, he knew quite well that he’d be dead. But the wound was burning and he could almost sense infection setting in, settling over him like a shroud. He needed to get out of here and find somewhere safe, if there was anywhere safe left to be found. Sweat was dripping down his forehead and his hand shook as he rested it on Kotowari’s hilt.

The supplies were still with him, strung over his back, along with the note he was supposed to deliver. The thought of dying worried him less than the idea of dying without fulfilling the duty he had sworn to.

Kuroh could hear them coming back, so he forced his legs to move and ran. There was a staircase nearby and he all but flew down it, jumping over two and three steps at a time with the same soundless movement that had been the only thing keeping him alive until now. If he could just lose them for long enough to treat his wound he would be okay. He would find a way off the island, and fulfill his duty.

Kuroh opened another door and found himself standing in what had once been the cafeteria kitchen. There were still pots and pans strewn everywhere and dirty dishes in the sink. If it hadn’t been for the layers of grime and blood covering everything he would almost have been able to believe that the place was still in use and the workers had just stepped out for a short moment. He walked forward cautiously, too aware of the ample places where a zombie could hide and not be seen until it was too late.

In the distance behind him he could hear the sounds of feet shuffling closer. Kuroh took a momentary stock of his surroundings and then lowered himself to the ground, sliding into the crawl space between two dusty refrigerators. His back touched the wall, hair tangling between spiderwebs, and curled up close in on himself, slowing his breathing as he tried to focus his mind into a state of calmness and silence.

There was movement in the dark in front of him, shuffling feet and moaning voices and the sound of steel pots being knocked to the floor. One of the undead paused, sniffing at the air, but Kuroh had no doubt that even the fresh blood scent he was emitting was smothered under the smells of rotting meat and old food that filled the air. He kept his breath slow and even, barely perceptible, and waited.

He didn’t really remember what happened after that, only that when he opened his eyes some time later he was alone in the kitchen, still curled up in his hiding spot and his side sticky with blood. His entire body felt like it was on fire but somehow he was too tired to move.

Master… The thought was like a prayer. Kuroh wanted to move but he felt too tired, too sore, and the feelings just made him more heartsick. Master…I’m sorry. I’ve failed. I’m sorry.

The last thing he saw before the darkness closed over him was a small furry face peering up at him.

A…cat? Kuroh thought drowsily and then his eyes slid closed and everything fell away.

—

“Damn it!” Yata swore and increased his speed, reaching for his bat.

He’d been making good time back to his hiding place, and as much as he hated to admit it he’d let himself get cocky. He’d let himself slow down, taking his time, maneuvering his skateboard over fallen debris and using the crumbled buildings as his own personal skate park, launching off from fallen slabs of rock and just generally enjoying himself. It had all been fine until he’d landed a jump right in the center of where a group of zombies had converged over the corpse of a dead animal. His arrival had been loud enough to draw their attention completely and they’d come after him.

On their own, human zombies were largely nothing for him to fear. They were a bit stronger than a normal human, sure, but so was Yata. In groups, though, that was where the danger came from. A group of zombies could circle you in no time and come at you all at once, mouths hanging open and snapping from all sides. He still might have outrun them but as he’d streaked from the alleyway he’d nearly slammed into a Strain. It was tall and lean, legs almost comically bone-thin and stretched, and its jaws gaped wildly at him as he approached. Yata immediately spun and headed the other way. He didn’t realize they’d corralled him until it was too late.

He knew these streets well enough, but his knowledge was nine months out of date. In the time since he’d been on his own, most of Yata’s movement had been from his hiding space to the grocery store and back, with the occasional circle around Bar Homra looking for survivors. He didn’t even realize that what he’d once known as a short cut to a wide open stretch of road — the safest place he could run, where he could reach top speeds without having to worry about obstacles slowing him down — was now nothing more than a circle of crumbled walls and debris that narrowed into a dead end.

A literal dead end, if Yata wasn’t careful. He grinned darkly and swung his bat around, letting the red flames engulf it. The fire was enough to ward off a couple of the approaching zombies, who froze like animals and moved slightly backwards, but the majority of them were already in a frenzy and didn’t even seem to notice the fire. The Strain was prowling at their back, clicking its long nails like scissor blades as it looked down on him through empty milky-white eyes.

“Come and get it, bastards!” Yata taunted, too aware of the stone at his back. He’d have to fight his way through, then.

Two rushed him — they weren’t as fast as his skateboard but they were still fast, too fast, whatever happened to those slow shambling zombies from the movies — and Yata dodged and swung. The bat caught the two right in the midriff and Yata increased the flames, slicing through the rotting bodies, filling the air with the scent of burned flesh. Yata ducked just in time to avoid a third zombie reaching for him and hit upward, knocking the zombie’s chin and pushing further to separate the head from the body. He barely watched the corpse fall to the ground, sliding in a circle to create a whirlwind of flames that spread outward, straight into the crowd, burning up the zombies before they could even turn to run…

…And then Yata felt a strange shudder through his body, like the pulsing of some giant heart, and he stumbled, falling to his knees as the flames abruptly dissipated.

Damn it. This wasn’t the first time it had happened. He didn’t know if it was because Mikoto wasn’t here — or maybe Mikoto was dead, but Yata refused to believe that, flatly refused, Mikoto would never die so easily — or if it had something to do with whatever was hiding in Mihashira Tower, but his powers had been flickering and sputtering at intervals for the last few months. He’d always been able to feel it coming before and had stayed hidden until it passed. And now it had happened at the worst possible moment.

The tattoo on his chest burned and Yata gritted his teeth against the pain, forcing himself to his feet, clutching his bat with white hands. The zombies seemed to almost sense his weakness and they began to close in on him again, wolves that had caught a wounded deer.

“Just try it, assholes,” Yata growled, as if bravado could change the situation. A zombie reached for him and he swung the bat wildly over and over again, not even seeing them as they came for him, thinking only to keep them at bay for as long as possible.

And then the Strain stepped in and grabbed the bat easily in one clawed hand, tearing it from Yata’s grip and tossing it away into the throng of gathered zombies, out of reach. Yata fell back, ice running through his veins as he found his back pressed up against cold stone again.

No way am I dying in such a lame way,Yata thought grimly as one hand slid into his pocket, closing around the familiar knife. He wasn’t very good at using bladed weapons, not like that person was, but he had no other weapon and there was no way he was just going to go down like this, without fighting until the end.

He was a clansman of Homra and served the Red King Suoh Mikoto, and there was no way he was going to dishonor that name by going down easy.

The zombie took another slow step closer, savoring his desperation, and Yata tensed, ready to strike once it got within range.

Without warning three slim projectiles flew from above and embedded themselves in the ground just between Yata and the Strain. Yata barely had a moment to recognize them as knives before a wall of red flame sprang up from where they’d landed and the Strain screamed in an inhuman tongue as the flames scalded its body into a pile of charred ash.

“Wha…what…?” Yata could only stare as a shadow emerged from the rubble behind him.

“Well, well. You’ve gotten a little slow, haven’t you, Mi-sa-ki?”

#sarumi #k project #fic #the great unfinished zombie apocalypse AU #except it's not unfinished!#it will be finished as soon as I post it all :D #primary editing is done so expect new chapters regularly #please enjoy for this Halloween night :D

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buffintruder · 3 years ago

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thanks for tagging me @arofili for this writer ask meme!

how many works do you have on AO3?

73 (wtf when did that happen)

what’s your total AO3 word count?

531,796

how many fandoms have you written for and what are they?

ao3 lists 50, but some of these overlap, like me tagging something both “les mis all media types” and “les mis victor hugo”. so probably around 36?

The top fandoms are Les Mis, Fullmetal Alchemist, Bartimaeus, and The Adventure Zone

what are your top 5 fics by kudos?

Reunion --the Untamed from Lan Sizhui’s pov

Angus McDonald and the Case of the Soul Stealer --taz fic sort of modern with magic au (also my first long fic and probably the fic with the most plot, i am very proud of it)

Wanting to Be Wanted -- fma fic, 5 times Greed didn’t realize he cared about people and 1 time he did

what if the real steel samurai fandom was the friends we made along the way -- ace attorney characters in the steel samurai fandom from an outside pov (i only started posting this a bit over 2 months ago, so i’m kind of impressed)

Better Than Nothing -- Magnus Chase, Alex Fierro has gender feelings and receives a gift (this fic is really the one where i have zero idea why it is as popular as it is)

do you respond to comments, why or why not?

yeah! I like it when authors respond to my comments, so I try to at least say “thanks!” If someone leaves a more detailed comment, it’s fun being able to respond to the things they say and talk about any sort of ‘behind the scenes’ writing things

what’s the fic you’ve written with the angstiest ending?

I’m honestly not sure? I think even my angstiest fics have at least somewhat hopeful endings. There’s probably 5 or so I could choose from, but most of them were written a long time ago, I’m going to say Sing Tomorrow’s Song because even though the ending isn’t too angsty compared to the rest of the fic, it is about Grantaire being seduced by the personification of Death as a semi-metaphor for him dealing with depression, so it’s not exactly cheery

do you write crossovers? if so what is the craziest one you’ve written?

Yes! I love crossovers, though I don’t write them as much as I read them. Probably the weirdest two fandoms to crossover was Les Mis and the Beka Cooper series because me and my cowriter just sort of stuck France in the middle of the Tortall universe and didn’t question it

have you ever received hate on a fic?

A couple times, but the only one I remember was when someone didn’t like me writing Enjolras as a trans man

do you write smut? if so what kind?

Hah nope I’ll read it but as of right now I’m aroace enough that I’m barely comfortable with writing kissing

have you ever had a fic stolen?

I don’t believe so

have you ever had a fic translated?

One of my first fics was translated into Russian on ffn, Tricksters Running. (It’s sort of a weird character study on the Doctor from Doctor Who and Gabriel from Supernatural, and despite me writing it at the age of 14 it’s not terrible? younger me was better at poetic writing than current me)

have you ever co-written a fic before?

yeah, with @arofili !

what’s your all time favorite ship?

Uhhh this is hard. The ship that took up my brain for the longest time is Enjolras/Grantaire, and currently my favorite ship is Phoenix Wright/Edgeworth

what’s a WIP that you want to finish but don’t think you ever will?

Well there’s a Lucifer au of fma that i wrote like 70k words of and hyped up to all my friends but never started posting and honestly at this point I don’t think I ever will.

For things that I started posting, A Home Beyond the What Ifs about Eponine/Cosette in Japan. I do like it, and I have a couple scenes of the next chapter written out, but I also have no motivation to actually work on it

what are your writing strengths?

Honestly? No clue, but not plot. Dialogue maybe?

what are your writing weaknesses?

Probably plot. I can sometimes come up with one, but most of my fics are just a series of loosely interconnected interactions it feels like

what are your thoughts on writing dialogue in other languages in a fic?

Generally I don’t with a few exceptions.

If the pov character doesn’t understand what is being said, I’ll sometimes write that bit of dialogue out in whatever other language it is in to sort of add to the experience (since I assume most readers would not be able to understand it either, and those who do will be delighted)

If the language is Japanese and characters mostly speak English, I also have the dialogue be in Japanese sometimes since that is the language I actually know well enough to be reasonably confident in writing it. I would not write a full conversation in Japanese or anything, but if they’re switching between two languages then I’ll write it out in the languages it’s supposed to be in (for other languages I would usually just say “xxx” they said in y language, or italicize it if they switch between two languages enough).

Lastly, if the fic is about language then I might also do that because that’s sort of the whole point of the fic (which mostly overlaps with at least one of the above, but I have a fic in my drafts where 2 sentences don’t fit the above exceptions, so i figured i’d include this)

what was the first fandom you wrote for?

Technically it was a Les Mis/Beka Cooper crossover. The first fic I posted that I wrote all by myself was a Supernatural/Doctor Who crossover. Which honestly sums up my interests as a 13-14yo pretty well I feel

what’s your favorite fic you’ve written?

...this is so hard

I’m going to say Truth, In the Eye of the Beholder (40k study on sharing a body from the pov of Ling Yao) because I genuinely had so much fun working on it, and I’m extremely proud of how it turned out. Definitely one if the fics I put more effort into than normal, and wrangling character arcs into place was hard, but I think it was worth the effort

I tag @micamicster @shadowy-dumbo-octopus @aromantic-enjolras @queerfandommiscellany, if you want to!

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zukkaoru · 3 years ago

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i was tagged by @verdanthoney @girluncle and @rejectscanon to do this end of year fic ask game and i did Not have the brainpower to do it last night so we are doing it now! ty for the tags!! <3

how many stories did you complete?

38 that have been posted on ao3.. i also have a couple fics floating around on tumblr from ask prompts and at least one fic that's done but not posted. and i wrote a couple original stories for my fiction writing class this past semester,, i don't think that's healthy but let's just move on

what are you most proud of accomplishing?

definitely finishing this ultraviolet morning light!! it's the longest fic i've completed and technically most of it was written in 2020, but i did finish it this year so i'm counting it. also though. writing all of where fire & ice collide in one day was pretty impressive and i still don't know what possessed me to be able to accomplish that. just the spirit of zukka week i guess

what is your total word count for the year?

328,307 posted on ao3. i don't feel like going and adding all of the word counts of other stuff i wrote this year that's not on ao3 but also i'd guess ~60k-70k of that was written in 2020 bc like i said, tuvml was mostly written in 2020 so maybe those two things will cancel out and that number actually is accurate

which fandoms did you write for this year?

atla, tlok, sk8, and jjk!! also i finally finished the no good nick fic that i started back in 2019 lol

did you write more, less, or roughly about what you expected?

Definitely more!! I wanted to beat my ~139k words posted on ao3 last year but um. i was literally aiming for 140k minimum posted on ao3. not well over 300k. so yeah definitely wrote way more than i expected

what's your favorite story of the year?

i mean tuvml is still my baby but like. it's so hard to pick a favorite,, i'm gonna copy nellie and pick my top five (excluding tuvml)

(in no particular order) some things just make sense, my twisted knife // my winless fight, of all the stars, the fairest, a little bit of you & a little bit of me, i know i've kissed you before

what is your most underappreciated story of the year?

probably a little bit of you & a little bit of me but i knew that one wouldn't be read by very many people when i started writing it lol like,, it's a gen fic centered around a character who doesn't even have a common [character]-centric tag on ao3, it's over 19k words long, chock-full of niche headcanons, and very much just me projecting onto jinora. but i did pour my blood sweat and tears into it, barely managed to finish it in time to get it up before the technical end of the extended time to post fics for atla gen week, and somehow wrote it while also working full time this summer. and also writing that was what made me sort of accept that not only am i nonbinary, but i'm nonbinary enough to claim that label, so it's very special to me

biggest fanfic-related disappointment of 2021?

well i really wanted to finish both sweeter than sugar and show them the way before the end of the year but. that did not happen. and also my ask box is still full of prompts that i wanted to write more of before the end of the year😬 (i am still planning to work on them!! i just. had and still have other stuff i'd like to finish first)

something you look forward to working on in 2022?

sweeter than sugar and show them the way obviously. also the prompts sitting in my ask box. and i have a sequel oneshot to my twisted knife // my winless fight i want to finish. i also just started a stsg fic that i really really want to finish, but it's going to be a longer one, so i have no idea when (or if) that will end up being posted. i have tons of other ideas and half-written fics that i'm wanting to work on this year too!! plus my atla 18+ reverse bang fic is um. finished. but rough and needs editing so i'm hoping that will be posted soon!! also there are a couple fan weeks i want to write stuff for coming up,, (atla side character week + geto week) but whether or not i'll have time remains to be seen

uhhh idk who has and hasn't been tagged already, so if you want to do this and you haven't been tagged, i'm tagging you <3

#sometimes i'm like 'how do i write so much?' but then i remember #i don't do anything else. i always have too many ideas. and i definitely neglected schoolwork in spring to write fic instead #which i do NOT recommend btw!!!!#that's why online school doesn't work for me. i open my computer and wow suddenly i'm on the doc for my fic huh weird how that happened #anyway i'm still pretty proud of how much i wrote this year even if my grades did suffer last semester for it #and i'm excited to do more writing this year!!#though. probably not gonna end up writing quite as much this year as i did last year skdjgfkdhj #tag game #grace's writing tag

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creamypudding · 3 years ago

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Writing update

Heya. Merry happy peaceful holiday period to you all (and minimal family drama). I’m still writing this omegaverse/werewolf/clack fic but it’s going very slow.

Very

Slow

I’m on the last chapter/scene, though I think I’m also gonna write an epilogue as the ending I have in mind doesn’t feel satisfying enough now that I’m at the cusp of reaching it.

While I think this last chapter stuff is good it has also been dragging. Time has been dragging. Checking the revision history I can see I have been working on this chapter, adding dribs and drabs of content all of December. I started this story some time in October and have covered a lot of ground in that time, so taking a whole month to write one chapter is... well, it explains why it feels like I’m stuck in this spot.

This chapter is a long one, currently sitting at 17k and that’s with it not even being finished yet. My previous chapters have been a lot shorter. Below 5k. I’m gonna try and released this story in smaller chunks, possibly updating it twice a week, but we’ll see once I have a finished product to base decisions on.

So, given the word count of this chapter it’s understandable why I’ve been poking away at this all month, I guess. Still sucks though.

I went and checked all my previous chapters to tally the word count. I honestly didn’t think I was up to 100k, but I am. It was a pleasant surprise. I hoped I had hit that, but I honestly thought I was at like 70k or so. Probably because when I did check, my chapters were, as I said, on the smaller side. But all those small chapters add up.

And that overall word count won’t stay like that for long, as this is just the unfinished first-draft. I still have a lot of editing, adding, and rearranging to do once I do finish this story, so who knows how long it will end up being. I’m excited to see.

Honestly, I have no idea how I write so much. Ok. I do know. It’s because I explore things rather than brush over conversations characters should be having. Although... first draft... definitely brushing over some things and leaving myself single sentence expositions that I may feel compelled to flesh out on the read-through and editing process.

I’d love to be able to finish the first draft (sans epilogue) before the end of the year. But the days are waning fast. I’m off work right now but I’m full-time parenting so... writing time... she flees. 😩 I get that caretakers/teachers need time off, but where is my time off from motherhood? Never ending caring until I’m dead, probably.

Ugh.

I’m hoping to get out of the house and out of my neighbourhood for two weeks in January, but COVID is looking likely to throw annoying spanners into my holiday plans (again). I just want to get away. If I’m gonna be stuck with my child I’d rather be able to go out and do stuff and see things - preferably nature things away from people.

Anyway, writing will be on the hard backburned in January so I really would like to finish this chapter before then. I highly doubt that will happen unless I’m hit with a wave of inspo and alone time.

Not likely, though.

All I want is to be able to go on holidays and then get on with editing this fic 😭

Ah well. Patience. One of these things will definitely happen. Probably more the latter. But maybe I’ll get fortunate in 2022.

I wish you all a safe and pleasant enough new years.

#writing woes

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spnfanficpond · 4 years ago

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Pond Diving - Queen-of-deans-booty

Welcome to today’s Pond Diving Spotlight! We hope that you enjoy this little insight to our members and perhaps even find some useful tips for your own writing. Happy reading!

Want to volunteer, send us an ask! We’re looking forward to learning more about all of you! Not sure what PD is, you can learn more here.

“Don’t Be Koi About It” - All About You

Name: Jordan

Age: 23

Location: Arizona, USA

URL: @queen-of-deans-booty

Why did you choose your URL: Honestly, Dean is the first person I liked on SPN and his ass is so tight and I believe all women are queens so that’s why.

What inspired you to become a writer: I remember reading a book in middle school about vampires, and it’s the first book I remember reading that made me feel all sorts of emotions that books never used to do for me before then. It amazed me to feel these things from a book, and I realized that I wanted to do that for other people someday, thus, is why I became a writer.

How long have you been writing: Gosh, since 8th grade. Might have been a little bit before that, but I remember in 8th grade writing a full book at 20k words, which if I might say, is impressive for a thirteen-year-old.

What do you do when you are not writing i.e. Job/Hobbies etc? I actually am a security guard at a chemical plant. There is some down time to this job, and I try to spend it writing. I even gush to my boss about the stories I write and where I post, and he is all for supporting me about it. When I am not working or writing, then I am either watching Criminal Minds, Manifest, and movies while in my room. With this COVID thing going on right now, I barely leave my house as it is xD

How long have you been in the SPN Fandom? Since season 11 was on TV. It was actually after season 11 had ended and before season 12 had started, so in that four-month span, I managed to watch 11 seasons.

Are you in any other fandoms and do you write for them? Yes! I am in the Marvel and Criminal Minds fandom! I used to be in The Vampire Diaries fandom, but I lost my passion for it so I knew my writing was suffering, so I stopped it. I am doing series rewrites for all three of my fandoms along with one-shots and drabbles!

Do you do any writing outside of fanfiction? If so, tell us about it? Yes, I try to. I took a NaNoWriMo class in college that made me write my first real book, so that is exciting. I also took fiction classes that made me write poems and short stories. I do want to get into writing more original fiction, but right now, I am focusing more on fanfiction.

Favorite published author: I love Riley Sager, B.A. Paris, James Patterson, Ruth Ware, and there are specific books I adore, but they aren’t from the authors I mentioned. I tend to like books rather than authors.

Have you ever read a book that made an impact on your life? Which one and why?: Vampire Kisses by Ellen Schreiber. That's the book that I mentioned about inspiring me to write, and I dedicate my love for writing to her.

Favorite genre of fanfic (smut, angst, fluff, crack, rpf, etc): I really enjoy reading fluff, but I enjoy writing angst because I feel I can have a lot more emotions and feels when I write angst.

Favorite piece of your own writing: My SPN series rewrite. I am currently planning season 7, and I am in the process of releasing season 6. I have gotten so many good reviews of it, and that fuels my passion for it.

Most underrated fic you have written: I can’t think of any at the top of my head. I tend not to look back on my own writing too much. I’ll have an overwhelming need to rewrite it and fix it up, and I don’t need that right now xD

Story of yours that you’d most like to see turned into a movie/tv show: Is it bad to say my series rewrite? It’s already a show, but I’d like to see my version of the show. If I can’t pick that, then my original fiction novel that I wrote that has over 70k words. That would be pretty cool.

Favorite Tumblr Writer(s): @impala-dreamer, @torn-and-frayed, @crispychrissy, @kittenofdoomage, @acreativelydifferentlove, @saxxxology, and there are others, but those are some of the people that come to mind.

Favorite fic from another writer: Can I mention a few? Rock, Paper, Scissors by @impala-dreamer, The Curious Incident of Episode 14x09 by @luci-in-trenchcoats, On the Road by @notnaturalanahi, Cherry Surprise by @crispychrissy, A Change of Scenery by @cass-trash, and On the Case Files (Criminal Minds fandom) by @hotchnerfuckmeup.

Favorite character to write: For Supernatural, it’ll have to be Dean Winchester. For Marvel, it’ll have to be either Loki or Bucky. For Criminal Minds, it’ll have to be Spencer Reid

Favorite Pairing to write: I only write reader-inserts so the characters don’t really matter as long as it’s x reader.

Least favorite character to write (and why): For Supernatural, it’s Crowley. I don’t know why, but I can never seem to get him right. He’s more sadistic and hardcore sometimes and I just can’t get that right.

Do you have anyone you consider a mentor? I don’t really have anyone right now. It used to be my teachers/professors, but I graduated and I don’t see them anymore.

Do you have any aspirations involving your writing? I want to be a published author. That’s all I want. I want to see my books on the shelves, and I’d also love to be a fiction editor! I can’t do anything right now because of COVID, but hopefully one day!

How many work-in-progress stories do you have: More than I can count right now. Like seriously, I probably have over 100. I have a bunch of bingo cards that I have ideas for, but I have so many that they all just pile on. There will come a time when I get through all of them, but I don’t know when.

What are you currently working on? Right now? Some requests and my spn series rewrite.

“Pond Diving” - All About The Writing

What/who has had the biggest influence on your writing? Like I mentioned above, it’s Ellen Schreiber. She is the one person that made me want to become a writer. Also, all my followers on all of my blogs. They are the truest influencers because they are what gives me passion for my writing.

Best writing advice you've been given: Write as if you’re the only audience. I’ve learned that if you don’t like what you’re writing about, then your audience will certainly see it. You can’t please everyone, so please yourself. There will always be someone who loves your writing for what it is, so don’t go changing it to please others.

Biggest obstacle you’ve faced in your writing: Trying to pace myself. I’ve heard of people spending two or three days (or even longer) on a fic. It’s either all or nothing with me. I either spend two or three hours on a fic and complete it right there and then, or I don’t write it at all. Pacing is an issue for me, and I am always trying to spend longer on a fic. I guess I just type really fast, I don’t know.

What aspects of writing do you find difficult when you write fanfiction? I find that trying to keep the character as canon as possible is most difficult. While it’s not always super hard, it does have its moments. All fanfiction are AUs, so it’s okay to change the characters to make them your own. While I don’t think one should make them the complete opposite if they are wanting to stay within canon, I do believe it’s okay to change a few things around.

Is there anything you want to write but are afraid to (and why): I want to write ships. Now that I think about it, I’m not quite sure why I don’t write them. Maybe it’s time that I start.

What inspires/motivates you to write: Feedback!!! Reader’s don’t always see it, but every piece of feedback I get makes me want to write. I do better knowing there are actual people out there that are looking forward to what I write. I do better knowing that real people are reading them and judging it. I do my best knowing that there is an audience. If I don’t get feedback, then that motivation just goes away.

How do you deal with self doubt: I’m not so sure I always do. There is always a voice in the back of my mind telling me that my stories are complete and utter shit, and I shouldn’t bother writing anything. It’s why I take a step back from writing so often. When I first started my blog, I came out with fics every single day. I was always writing new stories. Now, I may get a story out per week. Maybe two per week. I know when it’s time to take a break for a few days because it gives that voice time to calm down. My best advice for someone dealing with self doubt is to just take a break. Separate yourself from the thing that your mind is telling you that you suck at. Take care of you before jumping back into it. Trust me, it helps.

How do you deal with writer's block: Kind of the same thing as I mentioned above. I have suffered from writer’s block a lot more than in my earlier years. Sometimes, I just don’t have the motivation or the passion to write, and I just get so mad at myself for not doing it. One of the things that help me is writing down my ideas. Yeah, I get ideas that float in my head about stories I’d like to write, but actually writing them down makes them concrete. Then, I am able to make notes and side notes and notes of my notes about what I’d like to happen, and before I know it, I’m writing it.

Do you plan/outline your story before you start: ALWAYS! Always, always, always plan your writing, especially if you’re doing a series. It’s good to know what is going on in your story. You don’t always have to follow it to the exact detail (you’re allowed to make changes as you go), but having a plan makes it easier to get through your story. You’re able to look back at it and remind yourself why you're writing that exact scene or if something needs to be added or taken away from it. If you have a plan, then you’re less likely to lose that passion since you know what’s going to happen. You’re able to see the finish line well before you start.

Do you have any weird writing habits: This may be weird, but I like to listen to Got U On by Darci feat. Nessly, Highest in the Room by Travis Scott, some music by Juice WRLD, and other loud rap songs. Don’t ask me why, but I find the music soothing when I write. Those rap songs sound the same to me, and their voices just drown out so I’m just listening to the music. There are other kinds of music I listen to like piano instrumentals and rain/thunder sounds, but it’s really any song I can tune out.

Have you ever received hateful comments on your fic and how do you deal with it? I don’t want to sound arrogant or snobby, but I can honestly say I’ve never received one hateful comment on anything I’ve written (knock on wood xD). I’ve only received good things about my stories, and I think it has something to do with how much good energy I am putting into the world. I believe in karma, and I tend to be nice to everyone regardless of who they are, and I think it comes back to the kind of comments I receive. However, I always think about what I’d do or say if I’ve ever gotten a hate comment. I wouldn’t encourage them to send more hate, but I wouldn’t apologize either. I write the stories I write because it makes me happy. If they don’t like it, they can go somewhere else. Though, I know those hate comments can get to some people, and here is what I have to say about that: remind yourself of when you actually wrote the fic. If you were truly happy about it, then it shouldn’t matter what that person says. You love it, and that’s all that matters.

Conversely: what’s been some of your favorite feedback on your fanfic? I have to pick a favorite? XD I have an album in my phone of screenshots I took of my favorite comments left by my followers. I’ve been compared to John Green, there have been comments that thank me for giving them an escape from their realities, people have told me they want to write just like me someday, people have told me that my work has made them smile and get chills, that my stories are the highlight of their week, and a bunch of other stuff. I am just shocked that there are people out there who think this. It means so much to me, and I get tears when I read them because this is literally my dream. I can’t thank my followers enough for the comments they leave, and this is exactly why it’s so important to leave feedback.

If you could give one piece of advice to a new and/or struggling writer, what would it be? Write for you. I can’t stress this enough. I’ve mentioned it before, and I’m going to mention it again. If you’re not happy, it will show through your writing. Your audience will see it based on how you word things and your flow of ideas. On another note, please brush up on your grammar. I can’t tell you how many times I read such an interesting summary, and noticed the story was full of grammatical mistakes. It made me not want to read it anymore. I’m sure it was a great story, but I didn’t want to put myself through that just to read it.

#pond diving #spnfanficpond

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thehoneyedhufflepuff · 5 years ago

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Can you do #14 for the kissing prompts please? Your writing is amazing!

Thanks for this one! I’m just now realizing that maybe I didn’t totally hit the prompt, but hope you like it anyway! Dedicated to everyone reading Between the Lines, since I’ve made y’all suffer 70k+ words of slow burn. It means the world to me that y’all are reading that story. Have a smooch.

prompt: a kiss so desperate that the two wind around each other, refusing to let go until they are finished

SIMON

I find Baz in the stacks after close.

Well, after I’ve finished my own work, I mean. That’s how it’s been lately—so busy out here that we finish in the café before the booksellers are even close to being done. Drives Baz bonkers, I think, all the mess. (He thinks people are rude for it. I think they’re just in a hurry. Or not paying attention.) (He says I give people too much credit.) (Maybe I do.)

The lights are dim when I find him squatting in front of one of the bookcases. (Nico says it’s to save on the electric bill. Ebb says her brother’s cheap.) (I don’t want to think about either of them just now.)

I let myself watch him, partly so I don't startle him by just showing up, and partly because I want to. He looks good, but that’s always (which is a bloody blessing and a curse, honestly). It’s a fucking miracle I get any work done at all with him looking like that. He’s all hard lines and copper skin and fitted clothes. (Fucking perfectly fitted clothes.) (Probably he gets everything tailored.) The only soft thing about him is his hair. It looks it, anyway. I know it would be, if I could just reach out and touch it. He’s left it down today, and I like his hair any way he does it but I especially like this. The way it falls in a lazy wave across his forehead. I’ve thought of tucking it behind his ear more times that I can count by now.

And his hands. I know those are soft, too. I’ve held one in mine. (Maybe it’s not such a good idea to think about that just now.)

Anyway. I watch as he lifts himself up out of his squat, watch the way the creases in his trousers shift over his thighs as he stands to straighten the rest of the books. The way he shifts his weight to one foot, and the way his shirt’s tucked nicer than I could probably ever manage. (I’d love to untuck it for him, to splay my hands along his belly and against his back. To feel the warmth of his skin against mine. Fucking hell.)

I nearly jump when Baz says, “Snow.” He’s not looking at me; he’s too focused on putting the books right. (Or maybe he’s just nervous.)

I make my way towards him until I’m stood right at the next bookcase. (He’s already fixed this one up, I think.) “Hey,” I say.

“Hey yourself, Snow,” he says. He’s lisping—he almost always lisps around me these days, at least at the beginning.

"What're you doing?" I say, which is stupid, but.

Baz looks at me just so he can raise an eyebrow at me, the tosser. "What does it look like?" He doesn’t wait for an answer, just goes back to straightening his books.

Fuck, he frustrates the hell out of me sometimes. (I know he’s supposed to be working, but still.)

I lean against the bookcase next to the one he’s working on, careful not to mess anything up as I do. “Look,” I start, and sigh. (I don’t know what to say, or how to say it. I just know I need to say something.) (I just need to know he wants this, too.)

“Look,” I say again, and he actually does. Look at me, I mean. He looks at me, and shifts until he’s stood facing me, too. It makes me swallow. “I don’t know what it is you’re so afraid of, but like. Don’t be.”

And then I’m stepping towards him. (I didn’t tell myself to step towards him; it’s just happening.) (I see him swallow, too.) (It makes me want to kiss him there, against his throat.)

I’m so close now, and he’s not backing away. (I can’t believe he’s not backing away.) He’s not looking away, either. He’s watching me with grey, stormy eyes, and I know he has to be afraid, but he shouldn’t be. He shouldn’t be.

I reach out for him until I'm cradling his jaw in my hand. (I don't have to reach far, we're stood so close.) He shudders, just a little, when I let my thumb catch on his lips. (I've thought of his lips a lot, lately. About touching them. Mostly about kissing them.)

"What're you doing, Snow?" He says it softly, like a whisper. It almost makes his lisp worse. (I like it. I like his lisp. Full stop.)

"What does it look like?" I whisper back.

His eyes flick off to the side, like he's expecting everyone to have followed me here. "Simon…"

"It's alright," I say, and I bring my other hand up to properly hold his face. He's so close, and he smells so good, like cedar and...what’d he call it? Bergamot. Cedar and bergamot.

His eyes drop down to my lips, just for a second, and that's when I know it's alright.

"We shouldn—" he starts, but I stop the words with my mouth.

It turns out Baz’s lips are soft, too. So soft. I don’t know what I was expecting. (Maybe I thought they’d be rough, since he’s a boy.) (Probably I should’ve known better.)

Fuck, I hope I've not freaked him out.

He's still, but only for a moment—a second, maybe—before he takes me by the waist and pulls me in.

He's taller than me like this. Alright, he's always taller than me, but I've never had to tilt my head back to kiss someone, have I?

Kissing. Holy fuck, I'm kissing Baz. I can barely stop myself from breaking out in a grin. (Luckily my lips are occupied with something more important just now.)

I keep our mouths pressed together as I back him into the bookcase. He lets out a surprised little noise, and I take my chance to slide my tongue along his upper lip. I don't know why I'm surprised when he lets me in, but I am anyway. Still, it's good—so good. Better than I knew a kiss could be, and we've only just started.

He tastes like that fancy drink he’s always ordering—like a candy bar. (I know because I’ve tasted it.) (I’ve not told him about that.) There’s something else, too, underneath. Not smoke. Something Baz.

I’m kissing Baz.

I bring one hand around the back of his head to tangle in his hair, to press his mouth closer to mine. Closer, closer, closer. He sinks against the bookcase, just a bit—I know because it gets easier to reach his mouth—and hooks one long leg around one of mine to pull me in.

He wants me, I think. He wants me, he wants me, he wants me.

It was stupid to ever think he didn’t.

Baz whimpers into my mouth when I slide my tongue against his, and I can’t bloody believe it. I can’t believe I’m kissing him, and that he’s kissing me back. But it feels like the rightest thing in the fucking world.

The bookcase is agitated behind him, but I don’t bloody care. I don’t even think Baz cares. It won’t fall. It’s sturdy enough, to hold his weight. To hold mine. (I bring my other hand down to rest against his back, anyway, to keep the shelf from digging in. I can feel the heat of his skin through the fabric of his shirt. It makes my breath catch and shake and sigh.)

Baz’s breath is shaking against my cheek, too. I wish I knew what he was thinking. I wish I knew how he likes to be kissed.

Fuck, this is his first kiss. I’m his first kiss, and I’m making his breath shake. I’m making him hum into my mouth and against my lips. I’m making him sink down against a bookcase. (Guess that’s what they mean by weak in the knees.) Or maybe he’s just doing it so I don’t have to reach for him. (I didn’t mind reaching for him.) (I’ve been reaching for him for a while.)

This is his first kiss, I think again. And then I realize he’s never been kissed anywhere else, either, and I want to be the first for that, too. I want to know what he sounds like without my mouth muffling his moans. (They’re soft, so soft, but they’re there.) So I pull away.

He tries to follow me with his lips, but I nudge the side of his face with mine and start in on his neck, right below his ear. He gasps, and I want to hear it again. I want to suck a bruise there. I want everyone to know he’s mine. I just want him to feel good. To stop worrying. To stop thinking.

His hands tighten against my hips. (He’s got such big hands, such long fingers, and they’re so warm against me, even through my shirt.) “Simon,” he sighs, and I press closer, if that’s possible. He sighs again, and I hum back. He shivers when my mouth vibrates against his skin. “Simon.” He’s not lisping anymore, and I wonder what that means. Maybe he’s not nervous anymore. Or maybe…

“Simon, I can’t—” Fucking hell, not again…

“Simon!” My head jerks up and I look around stupidly to find Ebb. To find where her voice is coming from.

She’s stood in the doorway to the café’s back room, wiping her hands on her tea towel and waving at me. “Tired?” she says.

“Um. Yeah,” I say.

“You’ve just cleaned that table three times over. Any more and you’ll make it disappear.”

I look down at the table. “Right.”

Ebb just shoots me a knowing look and disappears back behind the swinging door.

Fucking hell, at least I can’t do this when I’ve got customers. Not that I’m not always thinking about Baz, I am. But, well. Cleaning tables isn’t exactly rocket science. I don’t need to think about anything to do that.

So I think of Baz. About touching him. Kissing him. Him wanting me to kiss him, and him wanting to kiss me back.

Sometimes I think that thinking about it’s the closest I’ll ever get to the real thing.

(I’d like to think maybe this is what Simon thought of as he was cleaning up after close towards the end of chapter 10, right before he went out to help Baz clean up for real. Or maybe it’s some future fantasy of his, IDK. Maybe I’m going super meta & it’s an AU of my own AU. In any case, hope y’all enjoyed, because now I’ve gotta get back to working on the main story.)

(Side note I hope this was decent; I’ve been writing too much slow burn & writing actual mouth-on-mouth action was a little tricky lol)

#between the lines #snowbaz #snowbaz smooch #prompts #kissy facing #my fanfiction #snowbaz fanfiction #ficlet #diclet?#diclet

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tiggymalvern · 5 years ago

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On Fandom, Fanon, Meta and Such

This is a thread coming from a different post specific to the Hannibal fandom which got long and wandered off topic, so I figured it best for everyone's dashes to not keep reposting everything. I'm going to quote from a discussion with @crisisoninfinitefandoms which you can all read in full here so that the things we both said and what I'm quoting from them can be read in context. Crisis said, the “I see X in canon, therefor Y is true in fanon” is personally where I draw the line of what I’m comfortable with, because the latter starts to feel like an attack on the people in fandom and their creations more than just a debating of abstract ideas Let me go back to the start here. I wrote a post in which I analysed the behaviour of a character and what they did and didn't do through three seasons. I concluded that reasonably lengthy analysis by saying, 'Because character X did Y once in these very specific circumstances, I don't believe that means they would do Y again in future in different circumstances.' I never mentioned writing or fanfic or fanon, that came along somewhat later in the ongoing discussions. I never said, 'People who write this are wrong,' or anything of the kind, I only said, 'This is what I think.' People can read it and maybe their reaction will be, 'Oh, I never saw it that way, I'll go back and watch again and see if that works.' Or they can think, 'I've never heard such bollocks in all my life,' and write me off as a nutcase. (That's certainly been known.) If someone who has written character X doing Y in the future has that “Oh god, I did it wrong, my fic is wrong and they hate it” twinge as Crisis phrased it, is that my fault? Is that their fault? Or is there nobody at fault, it's just a different interpretation? Crisis goes on to say, To be clear, I think debate over dissecting canon is great. If we were just having a discussion about that scene, and our different ways of reading it, I would be all for that. To me, this is where the question of lines arises. Because is that actually a practical distinction you can draw? What if I'd done that exact same analysis of my original post and left off the last half a paragraph? What if I hadn't speculated about future behaviour of that character, only reported my interpretation of the canon scenes? The 300 or so notes on my original post illustrate that people interpret one canon conversation very differently. Isn't it just as likely that someone who'd spent a year writing a 70k word story centred on their different interpretation of that canon scene, might have that same “Oh god, I did it wrong, my fic is wrong and they hate it” twinge? So then should we not have any discussions in fandom about interpretations at all in case someone who wrote something different from what I think is upset? Should fandom be a bunch of people who post fic and art and never actually talk about the show or what they think the characters might be thinking or how that might affect their future choices? Clearly Crisis draws their line in a different place than I do, and if we asked fifty different fans, we'd probably get at least ten different answers on exactly where they think that line should be. Crisis also says, Trends come and go, ebb and flow. You might not like all of them and that’s fine. Exactly! Fannish interpretation changes, people think different things with time. Would that actually happen if we didn't have discussions about it, if we didn't keep talking about the different ways different fans see characters and why they do things and how they might act? I know that I've seen posts that have made me reassess chracters and scenes and change my mind and I love it when that happens. It's amazing to me when someone comes up with something I hadn't thought of or a new way of looking at something three years down the line. It doesn't make me think, 'OMG I was wrong before,' it makes me think, 'Oooh, new and shiny!' Generally I've found the Hannibal fandom to be really good about fannish discussion. In three years, with all the hundreds of active fans, I've only had to block one person because when they posted, 'I interpret this as X because of these scenes' and I replied, 'I interpret this as Y because of these scenes,' they responded with, 'You must be really stupid to think that!' That's where a difference of ideas turns into personal insults and it's obvious there's no discussion to be had. But that's one person out of this entire fandom. And up until that point, I'm more than happy to have ongoing debates with people who think differently than I do. Maybe one of us convinces the other. Maybe we both go away thinking exactly what we did before. But I still enjoy hearing all the different ideas either way.

#fandom #discussions #interpretations #@crisisoninfintefandoms #i'm not sure there's a perfect answer to this #but I'm sure no opinions expressed isn't the answer

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vaguelyrotten · 3 years ago

Text

Like a Lily in a Flood

Title: Like a Lily in a Flood Artist: @myulalie Beta: @another-random-stranger Pairings: Magnus Bane/Alec Lightwood, mentions of Jimon and Reyhill Word Count: 70k Warnings: Mild Gore, Beheading, Nearly being eaten alive and burned at the stake, Discrimination, Sickness Summary: Alec returns home to find his town plagued by a mysterious illness. Unable to find a cure, he ventures into the woods to seek help from an unlikely source. We must not look at goblin men... This fic was created for the Shadowhunters Mini Bang 2021: Presented by the @malecdiscordserver

Chapter Two

Alec wasn’t surprised to find both Jace and Isabelle waiting for him when he approached the manor that evening. His sister rushed to take his horse’s reins once he’d passed through the gate. “Angel, Alec, we were starting to get worried. Night is almost here. Jace was about to saddle up and ride out to find you.”

“There’s no need for that,” he replied, sliding out of the saddle and letting his sister pull him into a tight hug. “We just got carried away.”

“We? Please tell me you didn’t go looking for the goblins, Alec. Even I’m not that dumb.” Jace’s voice was cross but he was already moving around the side of Alec’s horse to loosen the girth and pull the saddle from the sweaty gelding’s back.

Alec winced at his mistake. “Not a goblin, per say…”

“And what’s that supposed to mean?” Isabelle asked, crossing her arms as Jace took Flame’s reins and started leading him back to the barn. “You either met a goblin or you didn’t. Do you want to explain yourself?”

“Calm down, Izzy. I’m not in any danger. I did meet someone in the woods, but he’s not a goblin.” He paused, cocking his head slightly to the right as he considered his words. “Well, not a full goblin. It seems his mother was human and his father was a goblin...so he’s somewhere in between.”

He’d started walking back towards the house. He couldn’t experiment with cures in the kitchen; nor was the library entirely appropriate. His father’s office was also out of the question. He knew, however, that there was a spare storage room off the first floor that had been entirely empty when he’d left home. He could drag some tables and lamps in there. It could work.

“Can you get a lamp? I’m also going to need a mortar and pestle from the kitchen...maybe some water…” He trailed off as he tried to consider any other items that may be useful while he was trying to whip up a miracle. “Maybe a knife? A candle?”

Isabelle stared at him for a moment before she shook her head. “Come here...follow me.” She led him through the kitchen and down a set of stairs to the mudroom below. Alec found the room was already filled with tables and books, beakers and test tubes...anything he could possibly need.

How was it all here?

“Mom doesn’t come down here,” Isabelle explained, walking into the room and taking a seat at a little desk that was tucked away in the corner that Alec hadn’t previously noticed. “She wants me to get married off to a nice family — help the family name and all that. I don’t want that.” She sighed. “Aline and I have been writing to each other since you left. You know that she went to college? That’s what I want — to study medicine. Mom would never accept that...so Jace helped me set this place up so I could have a space to myself.”

He knew what she meant without her needing to come right out with it. “You’ve been trying to find a cure yourself.”

She nodded. “I haven’t had any luck though. I even tried to go into the woods myself but I just couldn’t bring myself to leave the path.” She looked disappointed in herself and Alec’s heart ached.

“Hey, it’s not your fault. Magnus said there are all kinds of spells keeping people who aren’t supposed to be in the woods out of the woods. He’s not even sure how I managed to cross…” He realized that Magnus hadn’t exactly been concerned. He’d been curious more than anything.

“Magnus?”

“The, uh, the man I met. The half-goblin,” he stammered as a blush rose to his cheeks.

Isabelle blinked twice before a grin spread across her face. “Magnus, hmm?” She was always too perceptive for her own good. “What else did Magnus tell you?”

“Stop, it’s not like that. He’s just… quite magical. He’s uh, very good at magic.” He hadn’t even seen Magnus do that much actual magic but what he had seen…

It sends a thrill down his spine.

His sister just laughed as she pulled the bag off his shoulder and started to look through it. “I assume Magnus told you how to use these? Or does the book you found cover everything?”

“The book told me some, Magnus taught me the rest… but he also said not to expect a miracle…” His voice trailed off as they set to work.

----------

He and Izzy tried every combination of the ingredients that he collected over the course of the next week to no avail. They’d used the book Alec had found in the library, the notes he’d taken when he had gotten home based on his memories of the things that he’d been told when he spent time with Magnus, as well as a few scrolls that his sister had borrowed from the local apothecary. Not a single cure they tried had any sort of effect on their father. They’d finally resorted to plain, old experimentation and weren’t surprised to find their efforts just as fruitless on that front.

“I don’t think there’s anything here, Alec, at least not in any method or combination that we’ve tried.” His sister sighed as she, Jace, and Alec sat around the table in the kitchen late one evening. “I hate to say it, but I think you’re going to have to go back to the woods and see if your goblin friend has other suggestions.”

“He’s only half-goblin,” Alec muttered, knowing full well that his sister was right. They’d exhausted every idea that they had, and even some they didn’t. It was time for something new. And something new meant he needed Magnus’ help again. “I don’t even know how to find him though. Last time, I just sort of...stumbled upon him.”

“Well, go try to stumble upon him again,” Jace replied as he cut an apple slice with a knife from his belt and held it out to his sister.

Isabelle grimaced. “I am absolutely not eating that, I don’t know where your knives have been or what they’ve been in and I don’t trust you to clean your weapons properly. I’ve seen what your room looks like.”

Jace shrugged and popped the slice of apple into his own mouth. “Seriously, Alec. I think Isabelle is right, as much as it pains me to admit. Mom and the crew she took with her won’t be back for months now. No one else in town has any sort of idea about what to try. Your half-goblin friend is the only chance we have of making any sort of headway with this damn disease if the king doesn’t want to grant us aid.”

Alec sighed and rubbed his hand tiredly across his eyes. “Fine.” He finally relented, knowing that he ultimately had no choice in the matter. Isabelle and Jace were right, he just...had to hope that Magnus wasn’t hard to find. “I’ll leave at dawn. If you want to help me gather my things, I’m going to try to catch a few hours of sleep. The last thing I want is to run into trouble in the woods and be too tired to defend myself.”

He left them to their squabbling and headed to bed, knowing that he’d catch no sleep that night despite his confident words to his siblings.

He did make an attempt to close his eyes, knowing that was better than nothing. He lost himself in thoughts instead of dreams. How would he find Magnus again? Last time, he’d let himself become nearly hopelessly lost (even if he wouldn’t admit it to Jace or Isabelle) when he’d finally encountered the purple ribbons.

He’d never actually asked Magnus about the purple ribbons. They had been there when he’d found Magnus and they’d passed by them a time or two when they’d been hunting down the various plants on Alec’s list. How did he even know those ribbons had anything to do with the half-goblin? Alec sighed and rolled over in bed to stare at the stars through his open window.

All he could do was hope.

----------

When morning finally came, he opened his eyes to find that he must have managed to get a few hours of sleep. He dressed and stumbled downstairs to find Jace and Isabelle already waiting for him outside.

Flame was saddled and his saddle bags were packed to the brim. Alec wasn’t sure what had them so full but apparently his siblings had been busy while he’d taken a nap.

“We packed you lunch,” Isabelle started, noticing the look that crossed Alec’s face and laughing. “Jace packed you lunch, and dinner for that matter. I had nothing to do with the food.” She explained, much to Alec’s relief.

“Isabelle spent all night in the library. She managed to find a few more books and made you a list. A few of these are apparently not great to touch with your bare skin, so we also packed you gloves, a few sharpened knives just in case you dull one, as well as some cloth and bags for collections.”

They’d apparently thought of everything, and Alec could only sigh in relief. What would he do without them at his side? They weren’t venturing into the woods with him but they were still doing their best to help him out. “Anything specific I should be looking for this time, Iz? You’re the expert here — you’ve been looking into this a lot longer than I have.” He placed one foot in the stirrup and pulled himself onto the gelding’s back.

“You focused a lot on the flowers last time. How about looking at the uglier and greener things? Mushrooms, herbs, trees…” She handed him a rolled up piece of parchment. “Here, I made you a list. You said that the forest didn’t follow any specific climates so I included some things that you wouldn’t find in our area. It’s a long shot but it was worth adding. I think we’re all ready to try anything at this point.”

He slipped the list in the inner pocket of his jacket and took his bow from Jace. “I’ll try to be home by dusk,” he stated as he slung his quiver over his shoulder and then did the same with the bow. “But I cut it close last time, so if I’m not back...give me at least another day or two before you send out the search party, alright?”

Jace squinted and Alec held his gaze until his brother relented. “Fine. You get two days before I come looking for your sorry ass.”

“Three.”

“Two — and that’s my final offer, Alec. Take it or leave it. You know I’m already not happy that you’re going out without me.” There was a hurt in Jace’s eyes hidden by his brother’s anger and sheer stubbornness.

“I know, but I need someone here to take care of Izzy, Max, and Mom in case something happens to me,” he whispered, taking Jace’s arm and giving it a knowing squeeze. They held their embrace for a moment before Jace pulled away and Alec turned his attention to his sister with a wry smile on his face. “Wish me luck?”

She snorted and shook her head. “Good luck — not that you need it. You certainly didn’t need it last time. Just don’t get married to some half-goblin man without bringing him over for dinner first at least.”

“Isabelle,” Alec sputtered as her words washed over him.

She laughed, her face softening after a moment. “Stay safe, Alec. You come back to us, alright?”

“I always will,” he replied, giving them both a look full of love and respect before turning his horse and trotting back down the path towards the woods.

----------

He had no plan to find the half-goblin so he was just praying to the Angel that Magnus found him instead. He kept his eyes peeled for any signs of camp;either the purple ribbons that he’d followed last time or a stray hoofprint in a place that it should not be. He glanced at the sun’s position in the sky and frowned as he realized that a few hours had passed with no sign of Magnus.

“Well buddy,” he said to his gelding as he pulled the horse to a halt and dismounted under a tall oak tree. “I say we stop for lunch. Obviously, what I’m doing isn’t working. Maybe we’ll have to trust your horse sense. Hopefully you know something I don’t. I don’t want to be stuck out here alone all night.” The gelding dropped his head to the lush grass below and Alec sighed, digging into his saddle bag for the lunch his siblings had packed for him.

He gave them an hour of rest, only a little bit dismayed to find that Magnus had yet to make his appearance. “Alright, Flame, like I said, we’re trying this a different way. Where do you want to go? And no stopping to snack every couple of minutes. We don’t have time for you to sample the local cuisine.”

He let the horse meander through the woods as his anxiety rose. Would he find Magnus before night fell? He’d been warned to stay away from the true goblins and the dangers that they could bring by both Magnus and the legends that he and his siblings had grown up with. He didn’t dare see what night would bring for a human alone where magic was making sure he couldn’t enter.

As dusk began to fall, the ambient noise in the forest ceased. A quiet forest was a dangerous one, and Alec began to worry for his safety. He glanced around, hoping for a miracle, only to spot what appeared to be lanterns in the distance. Finally, that must be Magnus. Who else could it be in his hour of need?

He continued slowly through the trees, his horse picking his way through the brush quietly, like he knew something that Alec did not. As he neared the source of the lanterns, he heard laughing and singing. His brow furrowed. There was more than one person in the clearing in front of him, and none of them sounded like his missing golden-eyed guide.

A hand grabbed his reins before he could go any further, and Flame snorted in surprise. Before he could say anything in response, he was pulled from his saddle quickly and a hand found its way over his mouth before he could make a sound. “Alexander?” A voice hissed quietly into his ear, and Alec relaxed upon instant recognition.

“Magnus.” He tried to reply, though it was muffled by the half-goblin’s hand.

“Alexander? What are you doing here? It isn’t safe to be in the woods at night.” Magnus whispered as he removed the hand over Alec’s mouth now that he was sure that Alec wouldn’t scream.

“I was looking for you,” he replied, turning so that he could face Magnus. The half-goblin was dressed a lot simpler than he had been the last time that Alec had seen him. There was a lot less color and sparkle. The lines of his jacket were sharp, the colors he wore were dark, and his expression was grim.

There was nothing of the laughter and joy that Alec had seen in the other man when they’d spent the day together a week ago.

“You shouldn’t be here. If the goblins had seen you, they would have done unspeakable things to you.” Magnus frowned as he glanced back towards the clearing that Alec had been about to enter. “I wouldn’t like finding out that you had gotten hurt because you had been looking for me.”

“If they’re so dangerous, why are you here?” Alec whispered, following Magnus’ gaze to what he could now see were not only lanterns but colorful carriages and a group of creatures sitting around a large bonfire. They were singing, dancing, and laughing; and Alec felt instantly drawn to the gathering in the center. He took a few steps closer.

“Alec, stop!” Magnus whispered harshly, grabbing Alec’s arm and hauling him sharply backwards. They stumbled into a tree that Magnus had been previously hiding behind and the impact was enough to pull Alec from whatever spell the singing and dancing had cast on him. He rubbed his eyes to clear the fog that he hadn’t even felt forming in his mind.

“Why are you here, Magnus? And what just happened? I didn’t hear the music at first and then as soon as I did...I lost myself.” That was an understatement. If Magnus hadn’t pulled him back, he would have walked right into the goblin camp — to a likely tragic situation.

Magnus sighed but his tight grip on Alec’s arm remained. “Remember the story? The singing and dancing attracted the sisters into the market.” Alec nodded, mesmerized by the way the distant fires were reflecting off of the gold in Magnus’ cat eyes. “That’s how they get you. It’s a lure. Those of us with goblin blood, we’re mostly resistant. We have to be. They’d kill us if we’re caught.”

“Don’t think I didn’t notice that you said mostly,” Alec replied, narrowing his eyes as Magnus pulled him further behind the oak tree. “And you still haven’t told me what you’re doing here. I was looking for you, but I highly doubt that you were out here looking for me.”

“I wasn’t looking for you,” Magnus said softly, finally releasing Alec’s arm now that he had his attention. “They have something that I want and tonight seemed like the best time to take it. It’s the full moon — they’re all celebrating. Their guards will be down and there’s less of a chance of me being seen.”

“What’s so important that you’d risk your life to steal it?”

Magnus said nothing in reply. Te simply glanced back at the goblin camp before turning back to Alec with a sigh. “It’s too important for me to turn back now. I want you to wait here — I mean it, Alexander. Don’t follow me. I’ve got magic at my disposal, but I can’t hide us both; not against that many.” Alec nodded. “I’m going to do something to help with the magic in the song. It is temporary. Even if something happens to me, the spell will wear off in a day or so. You need to trust me though.”

“Of course I trust you, Magnus. I wouldn’t have come back here if I didn’t. I’ve been warned away from the woods my whole life,” Alec replied, reaching out for Magnus’ hand.

The half-goblin appeared thoughtful for a moment before he nodded. “Alright. If you see anything happen to me, just get out of here. Don’t stay around and try to help. I’ll be fine, I promise. Are you ready?” He held his hands up to Alec’s temple until the other man nodded. “Here we go.” There was a tingle of electricity in the back of Alec’s mind before the world fell silent.

Alec had a moment of panic before he remembered Magnus’ words. This was only temporary. He’d just told Magnus that he trusted him. He had to believe that too.

Magnus gave him a reassuring smile and held his hand out in front of Alec, making sure he told him to stay one last time. Alec nodded in agreement and Magnus turned back towards the camp…

And disappeared.

One minute the half-goblin was standing in front of him and the next, there was nothing save for a slight shimmer in the air if Alec squinted his eyes hard enough. Focusing on nothing gave him a headache and as much as he wanted to watch what Magnus was doing, he had to just trust him.

He took a deep breath and relaxed his eyes.

Trust Magnus.

Magnus had spent the day with a stranger trying to help him find the ingredients that he would need to save his people. Magnus had saved him from walking straight into a goblin camp. Magnus had used magic on him to prevent that same thing from happening while he couldn’t be next to Alec’s side.

Trust. Magnus.

The closest trailer to the edge of the camp where Alec was waiting was a deep red with a roof that was painted black (though, Alec noticed, the paint was peeling and was starting to reveal a much brighter blue underneath.) The door was closest to the woods and was out of the view of the creatures that had gathered around the central fire. Alec watched as the wooden door opened ever so slightly and a shadow that he assumed was Magnus’ nearly invisible form slipped inside.

It was a tense few moments where there was no movement. Alec glanced between the door and the creatures who appeared to be unaware of a thief in their midst, hoping that any minute now it would reopen and the shadow would appear.

Any minute now…

Just…

Any..

Finally, after what felt like ages, the door opened and the shadow slipped out. As Magnus’ hidden form began heading his way, he stumbled over a lyre that Alec had noticed on the ground but had been unable to warn him about.

They both froze and Alec squinted his eyes to try to get a better lock on the half-goblin’s position.

The cavorting around the fire stopped immediately, and Alec assumed one of the creatures had yelled something along the lines of ‘Did you hear that?’

A few stepped away from the fire; and now that they were closer, Alec could see that the poem he’d read in the library at the manor hadn’t been far off from the truth. One was tall and wiry with a pointed nose, large teeth, and whiskers jutting from his cheeks while the other was short and squat with a thin layer of grey and black fur covering his skin.

They came within a few paces of where Alec guessed Magnus was and he held his breath, hoping that Magnus had a way to disguise his scent like he was disguising himself. The goblins raised their snouts to the air and took a few tentative sniffs.

Alec dared not move. He could only hope that Magnus was as good at magic as he proclaimed to be. As much as he wanted to step in and assist the half-goblin in some way, he had promised that he would stay put. If he tried to help, there was a high chance that he would just make the situation worse.

The most he could do was to just…

Stay…

Still…

After what felt like ages (though Alec was sure it was just a few incredibly tense moments), the creatures turned tail and headed back to rejoin the party at the bonfire. He let out a sigh of relief and Magnus materialized at his side a moment later. Gentle fingers reached up to his temples and the sounds of the forest came rushing back to his ears.

“Let’s get out of here quickly,” Magnus whispered, grabbing Alec’s hand and pulling him towards Flame. “That was way too close for comfort.”

Alec mounted quickly and glanced over his shoulder with a frown. “Is Elias here? I haven’t seen him.”

Magnus shook his head. “He’s not my horse, he’s my friend. He comes and goes as he pleases. I set out on foot tonight.”

Alec offered his hand out to Magnus. “Come on, it’ll be quicker if we both ride.” The half-goblin considered it for a moment before taking Alec’s offer and letting the human pull him onto the gelding behind him. Once Magnus was settled, Alec nudged his horse forward quietly, only spurring him into a gallop once they were far enough away that they wouldn’t pull the goblins’ attention. “Which way?”

Magnus pointed towards the left and Alec pulled the rein and led them deeper into the woods.

They rode for half an hour with Magnus occasionally offering further direction. When he finally spotted the purple ribbons that he noticed the first time he’d visited Edom Forest, he slowed his horse to a walk. Flame was breathing heavily and Alec could only pat his neck gently in thanks.

There was no caravan like he’d seen in the goblin camps. Magnus had made a makeshift tent that was set up next to a tall Ash tree, though it didn’t look like he was using it. There was a small fire pit a few feet away and a bedroll set up next to that. “You live out here?” He asked after a moment. “This isn’t where you were last time.”

Magnus slid from the horse’s back and shrugged his dark jacket off next to the tree. “I told you the last time that we met. Those like me? Half-goblin, half-human, one hundred percent outcast. We don’t fit in anywhere. Both sides hunt us. I have to stay on the move if I want to survive. My—” he cut himself off and swallowed, apparently changing his mind mid-sentence. “The goblins don’t have that problem. They can have their caravans and their bonfires because they are the most dangerous predators in the forest.”

He sighed and threw a hand out towards the small fire pit. Alec watched fascinated as it instantly ignited in a bright, blue fire. “It’s too late to travel tonight. The woods aren’t safe and we already had one close call. I’m going to check the wards around the perimeter. Make yourself comfortable. We can talk when I’m finished.” Magnus walked off into the darkness, leaving Alec alone by the fire.

He stood frozen for a moment before he pulled himself together and set about with a familiar routine (albeit one that he hadn’t done since he and Jace would go camping with their father as children.) He untacked his horse; setting the saddle, blanket, and saddlebags gently on the ground next to Magnus’ tent before leading Flame a little farther off and tying his reins loosely to a tree to give him room to graze.

‘Rule number one:’ His father’s voice rang in his head. ‘Always take care of your horse first. Even if it’s raining, snowing, or you’re in the middle of a war. Your horse comes first.’

With Flame squared away for the night, he could finally turn his attention to himself. Magnus still hadn’t returned from doing whatever ‘checking the wards around the perimeter’ entailed. Alec removed his own jacket and laid it across his saddle. He still had some of the hand pies that his siblings had packed him earlier so he took two out, along with some dried fruit and jerky, and laid out his own bedroll next to the fire.

Magnus returned a few moments later looking more exhausted than Alec had seen him before. He collapsed next to the human and accepted the food he was offered gratefully. “Are you alright?” Alec asked as Magnus’ shoulder bumped his, noticing that the half-goblin seemed a bit unsteady sitting up.

Magnus blinked before nodding slowly. “I’ll be alright. I just added a little extra to the wards tonight since we nearly got caught earlier. I don’t want to take any chances while we sleep...but I think we both deserve a peaceful night of rest. I can’t imagine you aren’t sore after an entire day in the saddle. It must have been a long ride for you to find your way this deep into the woods.”

“I’ll be fine,” Alec replied truthfully. “I’ve had longer, harder days of riding when I was still training to be a soldier.” They ate in silence for a moment before a stray thought crossed his mind. “What was it you were after tonight, anyway? What was important enough that you wanted to risk your life to get it?” Magnus didn’t answer, instead choosing to stare blankly at the pastry in his hand. “You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to. It’s not really my place to be inserting myself into your life. I’m not going to force you to show me, Magnus. You’re welcome to your secrets.”

“No, Alexander,” Magnus sighed, pushing himself to his shaky feet. “You were there. I put you in danger as well when I didn’t immediately turn us around. I could have come back without you another time.” He reached into the pocket of his discarded jacket and pulled something out that Alec couldn’t immediately see. “Here. See for yourself.” He placed the item in Alec’s extended hand.

It was a heavy medallion made of antique gold and silver and engraved with a rough image of a twisting serpent. It was on a string made of brown leather and surrounded by opal beads. It almost seemed to hum happily in Alec’s hands. A flash of familiarity washed over Alec and he frowned.

It was familiar...but how? Why? Magnus had just stolen this from the goblins. Alec had never previously been in the woods. There should be no way Alec had seen this before and yet…

He had. Somewhere, somehow, he had come across this medallion. The only possibility that made sense was that he’d seen an image of it during his research in the library, but it wasn’t the medallion itself that was familiar. It was the electric zing that he felt when he held it that he was acquainted with in some way.

“It’s pretty,” he said after a moment, well aware that Magnus’ eyes were focused on him and his reaction to the medallion. “What does it do? I’m guessing there’s a reason you risked so much to get this back.”

“There are a few reasons,” Magnus replied quietly, finally tearing his eyes away from Alec to glance towards the fire instead. “That medallion is ancient and powerful. It’s old goblin magic. I’ve got a friend who was cursed and I’m hoping that it will help me heal him.”

“What makes you think it can?” Alec asked. He ran his fingers over the image of the serpent on the surface. The hum of the magic in the medallion got stronger for a moment before it leveled out once more. He handed the necklace back to Magnus.

“My—” Magnus started, stopping himself quickly. “Well, the goblin king,” he corrected as he took the medallion from Alec and returned it to his pocket. “He used it to lay the curse on my friend because he was upset with me. Because it was used to curse him, I’m hoping that with the right spell and a different kind of magic, it can be used to cure him as well.”

Alec blinked as he comprehended Magnus’ words. “I’ve got a few questions about that. The first being...what could you possibly have done to make the king of the goblins upset enough for him to curse your friend?”

Magnus laughed; a quiet, sad sound that betrayed the easy air that the half-goblin typically carried, and broke Alec’s heart. “I exist,” he said after a moment, unable to look the other man in the eyes as he spoke. “Trust me, that’s more than enough in his eyes. He wasn’t able to take his frustrations out on me because he can’t catch me. Poor Raphael was in the wrong place at the wrong time. They could have killed him but they decided to send a message instead.”

“This curse — what is it? It’s not like the illness affecting the village, is it?”

Magnus shook his head. “No, if it were that easy, I would have suggested that we go try to steal this the first time we met so that we could kill two birds with one stone, as they say. Asmodeus cursed Raphael with an allergy to sunlight. The poor boy can’t let sunlight tough his skin or he will start to smoke and his body will burn until there is nothing left but ashes. He’s had a few close calls. I’d like to remove the curse if I’m able so that he’ll no longer have to worry… especially since the whole thing is my fault in the first place.”

“Hey,” Alec said sharply, scooting closer to Magnus and catching the other man’s hands. “What happened to your friend isn’t your fault. You weren’t the one that cursed him.”

Magnus let out a strangled laugh. “I wish it were that simple, Alexander. Unfortunately, Raphael’s fate is my fault. Asmodeus cursed him because he was angry with me. He couldn’t get to me, so he took his frustrations out on my friend instead.”

Alec looked like he wanted to ask more, and Magnus was prepared for an influx of questions. It wasn’t every day you found out that the king of the goblins had a personal vendetta against someone. The other man bit his tongue and shook his head instead. “Do you mind if I ask what you think you did that was bad enough to warrant that sort of attention? You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to. It’s not really my place to ask.”

Magnus froze, Alec’s words a gentle wave in a sea of uncertainty. He was so used to people just taking and demanding and wanting more from him that Alec’s simple request and evident concern for Magnus’ privacy was a true relief in these trying times. He gave the other man a sad smile. “He wanted me. Well, mostly he wanted my power. Even though I might be a halfbreed, that power is still power that he currently doesn’t have,” Magnus sighed. “Besides, our magic works a little bit differently than true goblin magic does. I’m sure that’s part of the reason why he’s after me.”

Alec’s brow furrowed in confusion. “What do you mean your magic is different? I thought magic was magic?”

“Well yes and no,” Magnus started, quickly trying to decide just how much information he wanted to give Alec. The differences in goblin magic versus half goblin magic was part of the reason why both sides had hunted them so mercilessly. If he explained that magical theory to Alec, he’d be telling him long forgotten secrets that his own kind held on to tightly.

Could he trust him with that kind of information?

He tilted his head and looked the human over once more. Alec hadn’t done anything that would suggest he was anything short of trustworthy. He’d even offered his assistance back at the goblin camp, though Magnus hadn’t taken it to keep him safe. He’d put Magnus’ privacy first when most people did not.

Maybe it was time for a change.

Their people had been fighting for so long. The wards on the forest ensured that there would always be a barrier between their two worlds but...maybe that’s not how it should be.

He could try to change that. They could try to change that.

And it could start right here with him and Alec; and some faith, trust, and a little bit of magic theory.

“The biggest difference between our magic and true goblin magic is that we aren’t bound by the same rules. Goblin magic is old; and old things are all about strict guidelines and bargains and oaths. Think...Rumpelstiltskin. You’re familiar with that tale, I take it?” Magnus asked, waiting for Alec to nod before he continued. “Rumpelstiltskin made a bargain. Straw into gold for jewelry and the first born child. Later, the child’s life in exchange for guessing his name. A bargain accepted must be fulfilled by both parties. An oath given must be followed. There are terrible repercussions for breaking your word.”

“And I take it your magic works differently?”

This time, it was Magnus’ turn to nod. “Because of our half-human nature, we aren’t bound by the old laws of magic. We can use our abilities much more freely and that is something both humans and goblins covet. That is the real reason that we’re hunted.”

Alec said nothing for a few moments, and Magnus wondered if he’d made the right decision in sharing his secrets with the other man. “I’m sorry,” Alec said finally, his voice nothing short of soft and slightly desperate. “I’m sorry that you always have to be on the run. I’m sorry that the world is after you. I’m sorry that you can’t just live. No one should have to experience that. Thank you for explaining it to me...and after I find the cure for the people back in town, I’d like to try and do something about that if you’re willing to help me.”

“Well, what did you have in mind?”

“I don’t know yet but we’ll figure it out when we get there. How’s that sound?”

Magnus grinned as they both settled down to try and get some rest. “That sounds like a spectacular idea, Alexander.”

#shmb2021 #malec #magnus bane #alec lightwood #fanfic #like a lily in a flood

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alarriefantasy · 7 years ago

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demon/vampire or terror rec, please?

Ohh this is good! I’m not gonna lie, I love dark fics. Hopefully, you like the list!! :)

*Also, this is my one and only warning for these fics. Please make sure to read the tags. Some of them may include triggering elements for you, so double check them before reading. If you’re not sure if you’ll be able to handle reading one them, you can ask me - I’d be happy to help!

Demon Fics

Trade Mistakes by ifancylou, Taayjaay

Words: 3k

Harry summons a crossroads demon without realizing that he’d be giving up his soul in exchange for the deal. He offers the demon something a little different instead.

Take Me To Church by jacinth

Words: 5k

What would happen if he gave in, if he let Harry have him? His morals rebelled against the thought. Harry was a demon, an inherently evil creature from Hell. How could he be sure he wouldn’t destroy him?

Sealed With A Kiss by ty_madison

Words: 6k

Harry has been having dreams about a boy, every night since he turned sixteen and everytime he has opened his eyes in the past the boy has disappeared.

But now he is awake, the boy is here and he has a deal to make with the innocent Harry.

here in the dark is where new worlds are born by delsicle

Words: 7k

Harry is a demon and Louis is his eternal mate.

Demon On My Tongue. by SS98

Words: 14k

Harry is a demon and wants what’s inside Louis. (He also wants Louis).

Shadow Holding Me Hostage by scribblewrite

Words: 26k

Harry’s a demon, basically the king of hell and the source of all evil, and he needs an heir.Louis’s a normal human, unsuspecting of what’s in store for him

Even Angels Have Their Demons by @afangirlfantasy

Words: 52k

Or… an Angel/Demon AU where Angel Louis hates Demon Harry, but somewhere along the way that stops being so true.

Angels and Demons by twerkinlarry

Words: 70k

It’s a time where both Angels and Demons walked on earth, doing their work unbeknownst to humans. They look like normal humans, act like normal humans, interact such as, but they have very specific jobs not at all human like. Angels are here to guard, protect, and guide people into the right path. Demons are here to do just the opposite; mislead, give into poor judgment, throw into harm’s way, wreak havoc in general. Angels and Demons are given few guidelines other than their general rules, however there is one rule never to be broken; do not interact with the other. Under no circumstance should an Angel ever interact with a Demon, nor a Demon with an Angel, and that’s all.

The Devil’s Angel by lilacsweaters_ivorylilies

Words: 86k

“You belong to nobody else but me, asphodel."Ezekiel 28:13 - For Lucifer has been in Eden the garden of God; every precious stone was his covering, the sardius, topaz, and the diamond, the beryl, the onyx, and the jasper, the sapphire, the emerald, and the carbuncle, and gold: the workmanship of his tabrets and of his pipes was prepared in him in the day that he was created.

Say Hallelujah, Say Goodnight by @alivingfire

Words: 110k

Louis is an angel who is just a little too bad to be good, Harry is a demon who is just a little too good to be bad, and they’re both a little too in love to be impartial when angels and demons go to war.

Run Like the Devil by benzos

Words: 138k

Supernatural AU. Louis hunts demons; Harry’s the strangest demon he’s ever met, and he keeps fucking meeting him.

Vampire Fics

I Picked My Poison, And It’s You by @afangirlfantasy

Words: 5k

Louis never backs down on dares. But maybe this was the one time he should have.

Eternal Love by @mysticbelievexx

Words: 8k

Louis had been dreaming of the green-eyed vampire for as long as he could remember; his mate from a lifetime past.The reality doesn’t go quite as expected…

The Devil You Know by Awriterwrites / @a-writerwrites

Words: 35k

Louis is a vampire. Harry is probably too curious for his own good.

As Cold as a Whisper by panda_bear21

Words: 48k

A fairy tale au where people in Louis’ village are disappearing and Louis is married off to uphold a centuries long agreement.

Waiting On You by emma1234 / @lads-laddylads

Words: 76k

“Vampires,” Louis says with disgust, glaring over at the vampire who is noisily slurping from the woman’s neck nearby.

Zayn gives the neat fang marks on Louis’ neck a meaningful look.

“Can’t live with them, can’t live without them,” Louis finishes, ignoring Zayn when he rolls his eyes.

Louis takes a long sip of his milkshake, presses his fingers against the marks on his neck, and definitely doesn’t think about the vampire who left them there.

Luscious blood by Deidei

Words: 116k

Louis Tomlinson, a human, has been living in poor living conditions together with his mother since he was born. Ever since he can remember he has loathed the stronger, faster, more developed kind that rule this world; Vampires. But will his opinion change after he meets his soul mate that is an arrogant, royal vampire named Harry Styles…

Among the Humans by thecheshirepussycat / @the-cheshire-pussy-cat

Words: 129k

A gothic, modern day vampire romance between a young human named Louis Tomlinson, and Harry Styles, ancient vampire and gentleman.

Creatures of the night come with more trouble than they wish to make it seem.

Love Endless by wubwubnparmaham / @wubwubnparmaham

Words: 171k

The year is groovy 1973, and eighteen-year-old Louis Tomlinson is perhaps the gayest teen to ever grace the gloomy, hateful town of Fortwright. Would be fine if he wasn’t so viciously bullied at both home and school for such a “harmful” sexual preference.

Yeah, yeah, we’ve all heard this story, haven’t we?Believe him, Louis didn’t think he was anything special either.

Until he found the mansion. The notoriously haunted mansion hidden deep within the forests of his tiny blip of a town in Bumfuck Nowhere, Idaho. No one with a brain ever goes near it, but Louis could use a little excitement in his life…and possibly a Band-Aid or two.

After discovering the mansion was less abandoned than he’d thought, he’s now left with the most riveting mystery of a lifetime; every new finding leaving him with more questions. Who is this elusive owner, and why won’t they show themselves? Why is there a set of journals in the same handwriting that span over centuries? Why in the world is there a padlock on the refrigerator…and who the hell is Alexander?

Horror/Suspense Fics

I’ll Be Your Someone by bringhomethegays

Words: 7k

Two gleaming eyes burned holes in Louis face, even in the darkness. Louis gulped dryly when a smile and pale skin began to show in the light only from the full moon outside. Then a low rumbling voice sounded, bring a slow shiver down Louis spine when he heard his name, “Hello Louis.”

nothing’s gonna hurt you, baby by kingsoftheimpossible

Words: 9k

The breath Louis drags in is shaky, tinged with the heat from Harry’s mouth. “If I dreamed you up to get myself off, I’d have made you more attractive.”

Harry pulls back just far enough to look more fully at Louis’ face, lips spreading into a wide cattish smile, all teeth. “You’ve really got to stop embarrassing yourself by trying to lie to me.”

or: Things were a lot easier before Louis’ hallucinations decided to give themselves a body and a name.

Living Among Stockholm by larry_aesthetic

Words: 10k

“No matter how much you want to leave, no matter how much you want to get out of this place, I’m not going to let you. I love you too much.”

“I… I don’t think I want to leave..”

Gone by hazelfae

Words: 34k

Harry, a criminal psychology student, interviews Louis as part of a project and knows all about him from the extensive media coverage of his capture. Louis takes a certain shine to the younger boy and even though he’s under surveillance 24/7… Harry’s in trouble.

Alaska by BeyondxLawliet

Words: 85k

“Let’s go out to my car, yeah?” he heard Harry say, Louis looking up at him. The ground was moving underneath his feet, or maybe it was just him. He raised his hand to push him away because no, this wasn’t happening, but he felt too weak. The hand was only falling down to his side again. Harry? No, he was too nice.Maybe he was taking him home?

“Are you taking me home?” he whispered with a slur, his eyes fluttering closed as he stumbled into Harry. He could hear his heartbeat. It was beating quickly.

“Yes,” Harry whispered back, taking his coat and put it over Louis’ shoulders through his blurred vision. He had no idea what was even going on. Where they even in the café still? It sounded like he was underwater, colors jumping around before him. “I’m taking you home, love.”

credit to the owner of the manip

updated 7.17.19

#ask

69 notes · View notes

go-redgirl · 5 years ago

Text

The Senate Votes To Approve The Controversial Spending Caps, Debt Ceiling Bill. The Final Passage Vote Was 67-28. This Bill Now Goes To President Trump to sign.

The Senate votes to approve the controversial spending caps, debt ceiling bill. The final passage vote was 67-28. This bill now goes to President Trump to sign.

_____________________________________________________________

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Joey Big Things Poppin The kids shouting for Trump is because their parents are part of the 1%. while these children never worked a day in their life ,college paid for lmfao..

Havefunplayguitar Baltimore? Send money I need to pay my beach house mortgage

Why are you so Angry? Thats what we pay you clowns to do! Do your jobs, or fear, fear our LIBERTY!

torrok 01 If you make $50k a year Trump tax cut gave you $570. If you make $1m it gave you $70k. Is that fair? I would rather $1k a month

Annika_green @Joey that’s a broad generalization .

awildbill rightous HK ,, may the force be with you!👀👌

Happy Voice tax cuts for the rich lead to higher deficits and diminishing returns for the country

Travis Jackson Our President Trump is making Me proud.

GDPops Government shouldn't spend money they don't have. TRY DOING THAT AT HOME

Fuzz Man 1 state 1 vote

Rebecca Brown Trump 2020!

Nothing Vote for democrats if you want your cities filled with 💩💩💩 and 💉💉💉

Edward Wallace Government bad answer to all problems. Marianne Williamson 2020

Mo Hamhead If it was up to me there would be zero free stuff for lazy unambitious parasites

nighttr I have an idea lets give the super wealthy a tax break,

Danny Hemphill the people that make a lot of money pay a lot of taxes idiot

Ramiro Garcia RINO'S & DEM'S SUCK.

David Hensley shut down the government good do it

Merlin Krisp True Danny 👍

richardcvlr5 there's creepy joe he's moving kinda slow in the men's room.

IR_Dankenstein Will there still be gummy bears? If not, it's on like Donkey Kong!

Drill Bit 46% of people, don*t pay taxes.

Why are you so Angry? Many take pride in the fact that their children are made to work in honorable situations, with the word of god in their hearts, integrity in their minds, and a knowing of behavior. Who made you stupid

torrok 01 $1000 a month to everyone stimulates growth better than giving money to the rich

Havefunplayguitar I was blocked

abc def Joey why u watch fox,no tin foil hats here

Friendly Tourist I ❤ Cop Splash 💦🐖🐖

Niobokupletskite i say having it in your hand now is better then going out and find it

Uganda Knuckles Christ trump 2020 Landslide

HoarderCatG Nicole junkermann

Rod Bender people that make 12k a year and afford 1k per year taxes dumbocrats

awildbill rightous Master Jedi Trump leading the Jedi now! 2020 The lightside will defeat the darkside!🤜

Amy Tyler 🚬🚬🚬🚬🚬🚬🚬🚬

Bob A Richard he’s in there with booker

Rebecca Brown We The People demand Term Limits for congress and grandfather the limits.

Annika_green If there’s a crash & the bankers and corps get bailout, I will be upset!!! I think a check one time to WE THE PEOPLE IS FINE

Fuzz Man all the money all the billionaires in the world has would not pay for dems dreams

Dan Williams if there is more of something, does it increase in value?

Edward Wallace So don't spend pay the dog gone debt. Marianne Williamson 2020

Last Days What a fool. OH BUT THEY want to give everybody free S___! to put that debt on the backs of his grands

origine online Free education Free medical 5 weeks vacation bigger salary thx , try to be more like my friends in europe

Joey Big Things Poppin Never watched fox ever.. Alphabet

Happy Voice Raise taxes to reduce the deficit and fulfill budget shortfalls, it's not rocket science. Can't tighten the belt much more.

Stephen Rothwell maybe the good senators can donate his salary and half his net worth if he loves the kids so much

L Yachty TRUMP 2020

MsMyxlplyx

CUT SPENDING....START WITH CONGRESS PORKERS Welcome to live chat! Remember to guard your privacy and abide by our community guidelines. LEARN MORE

Leandro Garcia leave here , and go to the CSPAN live stream if you like

window789456123 trump 2020

Mo Hamhead There's too much parasite and not enough host now

Steven Jones do not buy the 1% LIE! That is all it is. LIES! Taxes went to everyone almost. THIS IS A LIE!

Why are you so Angry? Get a job, vote the Nanny government OUT of OUR lives! Figure it out, grow up. Most of us do, with or without the perpetually pubescent.

Danny Hemphill oh yes. free this free that equals loss of freedom

Blue Wizard 🏆TRUMP 2020🏆

nighttr Trump supporters sure could use the free education

Drill Bit The rich make their money just like you do. Have you ever been hired by poor person???

torrok 01 Google Andrew Yang and check out his policies

Merlin Krisp Shut up 🤐

KritterKracker It's called stealing from Peter to pay Paul

De Dowd this guy is a Phoney Windbag! All talk and no action as long as his palm is greased with cash. Just watched a press conference in Baltimor and the Feds are cracking down on the drug dealers. Finally!

andrew richardson torrok 01, you sir, are an idiot, don;t breed

GDPops $22,022,376,894,711.12 National Debt

Kirrsty Locklear this dude is full of it our money is being stolen and not spent on the issues and foreign countries ain't paying their bills

Havefunplayguitar Why am I being censored?

Uganda Knuckles Christ Eat bacon our leave USA🥓

Amy Tyler This is so interesting! NOT!

Nothing no such thing as free you will have uneducated taxpayers paying for top earner college graduate degrees

Niobokupletskite tax break for the rich is a disinfection for the rip of businesses that surround us

Adrana West VOTE THE RIGHT WAY FOR AMERICA: TRUMP 2020

john doe ugh...

ascii Has anyone mentioned Israel yet?

AA14/MoshDuck Amy Tyler: Then why are you here?

Friendly Tourist 🌚 PAGAN 🌛

IR_Dankenstein Word of the day is: Entitlement

Rod Bender "healthcare" should not be confused with "health insurance" DUMBOCRATS

Edward Wallace No one should be taxed by Government. Marianne Williamson 2020

grabitz slow mode

Bill Bush n

Star Dust why did you let Bush and Obama have all that money ?

Annika_green Stop taking too many meds and eat healthy. Again, PERSONAL RESPONSIBILITY

No Regrets vote Trump 2020 President Trump 20/20 all the way

Happy Voice It's fiscally responsible to raise taxes on everyone, not just the rich, but middle class as well, before we even talk about changing healthcare or education.

Greig Ballantine oh my omar

BayouSef1 I don't know what he is talking about. It didn't cost me that much for a 12 year old.

Drill Bit Mushroom Williamson, Throw back from Woodstock

Steve Landy Trump 2020 ok

torrok 01 Trump has done nothing for you. Google Andrew Yang

AnabelleLee100 CAPS ARE ONLY WAY TO FIX HEALTHCARE COSTS

Joey Big Things Poppin Talk deficit yet their spending more than they can print

andrew richardson National debt goes up 100 million per hour 24/7

GDPops DISGUSTING DEMOCRATS - BOHICA

Spiny Norman taxation is theft, crime does not pay

DRUNKEN RAMBLE We're all gonna get a Skyscraper on 5th Ave one day. It's gonna be Huge!!!!......lololol

David Hensley so who is this guy lobbying for big pharma?

Uganda Knuckles Christ Omar antifa leader?

Dawn Gray Joe Biden SAID it last night. GOV'T has failed us 40yrs. Joe has BEEN THERE 49 THERE LIES THE PROBLEM. #TermLimits #ForthepeopleBythePeople

Danny Hemphill torrok01. your delusional. never gonna happen. IT'S called communism

DFG Corey Booker is the whitest person running for president

junior Andrew Yang 2020

KritterKracker The Superiority of the Republics freedom TRUMPS the inferiority of Congress

Keonte Andrew Yang 2020

awildbill rightous We clearly need Master Jedi Trump another 4 years ,💯

HK Torrok 01 come on man don't be Rude

abc def soros antifa and dem leader,fact

Mo Hamhead How come the Democrats aren't talking about Mueller any more? It's like he never existed

360Nomad I AM THE SENATE

Ganesh Jayatpal 🚩🚩🚩

American Patriot 1776 Andrew Yang 2020 I agree Keonte

Happy Voice Taxes are used to support a government that provides necessary public services, such as a police force, public education, and public infrastructure, "taxation is theft" is simply idiotic.

Roger Clinton F Dems

Drill Bit Spiny Norman It pays for these people. They all rich.

SAND BLAST DEMOCRATS WERE IS MULLER ?

Jenny Ward I I bet Nancy Pelosi cart and baby roaches and lice flee from her arse.

Jim Brauer YANG 2020 / FREEDOM DIVIDEND / M4A / Humanity First / Abundance Mindset / $1,000 per mo per adult / Solution to POVERTY = CASH in the hands of Parents and Teachers !!! YANG = YES !!! TRICKLE UP

Annika_green @American Patriot 1776?Yang?! You want the taxation called VALUE ADDED TAX???

no halo President Trump should read that deal again because democrats and republicans agree to it,there has to be a catch,and you can't trust crooked career politicians!

Why are you so Angry? No more alms.

L Yachty Majority vote TRUMP obviously

OurSavageGaming MAGA 2020 🦅🦅🦅

JESUS CHRIST OLD FOLKS WANTING MORE CONTROL PRETTY SOON WE WILL BE WALKING LIKE SOLDIERS

Alan Johnson All of them are thieves! If they are talking they are Lying! Drain the swamp!

AnabelleLee100 Universal Health Exploitation does not fix Costs. Caps on Medical Charges ONLY Way to Fix Healthcare.

Joey Big Things Poppin So Taxation on the American people is a crime

Nothing democrats hate all human rights. they are anti free speech, privacy, self defence, due process. I cant think of 1 human right democrats support

Danny Hemphill yang is a con man commie

Borng Jak ខ្ញុំ

KritterKracker Freedom from Congress' Bad Debt

Dawn Gray MY Indep VOTE goes to TRUMP2020 #IndependentsForTrump

David Hensley and the police force is a arm of corporate America that listens to those who make the laws they are the arm that inforces them

Fake News DEBT CEILING MATTERS. PASSING IT IS A GOOD THING

abc def deport the whole yang family,enemies of the state

Kodiak suddenly Durbin cares about the troops.

_______________________________________________________

OPINION: Great, great news to hear. The Senate is doing an outstanding job.

Lets give them applaus👏

0 notes