#tbh this is just me writing through grief so don't @ me

[mad-hunts]

as far as jack could tell, jervis was really out of it; and it made him wonder it was due to something that had happened while he was out with his father, or when they'd gotten here. perhaps both. jack gnawed on his bottom lip, his eyes darting to jervis's hands, which were flexing like he was struggling with something. an eyebrow rose as jack contemplated asking whether he needed some pain medication.

since he didn't receive an answer to his question yet, jack figured he might as well introduce himself. ❝ uhh, well, you don't have to talk to me if you aren't feeling up to it. my sister told me that you fainted in front of her out there — so, i understand if you're still feeling sick. my name is jack, ❞ he scratched at the back of his neck as he continued to observe jervis. whenever the man tried to get up, jack approached him and was about to caution jervis that maybe he shouldn't by lightly touching his shoulder.

but he remembered matilda telling him something about the other really not liking to be touched, so he merely was going to verbally tell him. up until jervis laid back down himself, anyhow. jack couldn't hold himself back from frowning at his poor present state before venturing out of the room with a 'i'll be right back.' and indeed he had been, with two different vials, alongside a few syringes to inject into that IV bag: should jervis want to be medicated. jack figured it'd be easier to just do that rather than forcing him to swallow anything.

he placed those also on the table before tilting his head at the quote jervis had said until it clicked a few seconds later, ❝ that's a quote from through the looking glass, isn't it? and one that the red queen said in the story if i remember correctly. she was basically teaching alice that staying in the same place is falling behind, right? ❞ jack squinted his eyes at that before a thought came to mind. a soft snort left him, but one that was done of an innocent sort of amusement rather than malice. ❝ that is a kind of roundabout way of talking about survival of the fittest. but hey, lewis carroll was all about the whimsy of things, i guess. and its no big deal. ❞

jack pretended not to see the tears that the other shed for jervis's own sake. the blood on his lips was something he couldn't ignore, no matter how hard he tried, though. jack grabbed a washcloth from his pack and held it out towards's jervis's hand. once it was out of his hand was when jack set down that teacup, the slightly too long stripped pants he wore swaying across the ground. ❝ mm, you and dad were both asleep for nearly four hours. sure — i don't think that's silly at all. i keep something on me all the time from when my brother, julien, was still around. ❞ the bracelet he showed the other on his right wrist then seemed to be made up entirely of tiny conch shells.

julien was a big fan of the sea, which jack thought made his death all the more crushing. after seeing the state that the stuffed animal was in, he figured that that bunny must've been really loved; though it didn't really matter by whom it was. the end result was the same, as love changes you. jack knew this well as he'd never wanted anything more than to be embraced by the warmth of it.

he quickly shook that thought off, only to grab the two vials he got from the fridge once more. ❝ eh... the four hours actually went by rather fast. ❞ jack cleared his throat then, ❝ you know, i couldn't help but notice that you aren't looking so hot still, and so i grabbed some meds for you. but i won't force you to take them. i have a pain reliever as well as something that relieves vertigo. are either, or both of these, something you want? ❞

Eigengrau.

A faint hum buzzed in his ears; his mouth was so dry it felt like he’d swallowed a wad of wool.

The thin sheet beneath him brushed his fingertips as Jervis flexed his hands, cracking his eyes open a sliver. The room tilted, everything blurring at the edges. Ah… so he had fainted. Just as he’d suspected. No glasses, then.

"Hey. Ahh, you're awake… That's awesome. How are you feeling?"

The new voice was barely a whisper, young and uncertain—belonging to a boy, maybe sixteen or eighteen by the timber. Was this another of Barton's assistants, a friend of Matilda’s, or perhaps her brother? Jervis couldn’t quite remember; hadn't Barton mentioned something about having more than one child?

He winced, his body feeling heavy, leaden; aching everywhere. Slowly, he exhaled and tried to push himself upright—tried being the keyword. The effort brought only a wave of vertigo, dizzying and blue-hot, making his vision swim.

… ohh, god…

He swallowed thickly, curling into himself. Something wasn’t right. His glasses and gloves weren’t the only thing missing. He was in his socks, jeans, and a now damp charcoal t-shirt, his body slick with cold sweat. His graying auburn curls clung to his neck in tangled ropes. His boots were beside the cot, his messenger bag on a desk across the room. His overcoat and maroon button-down were draped over a chair.

A flicker of discomfort in his right arm. Burning. Tugging.

Jervis glanced down at the source: a plastic tube. A peripheral IV catheter.

"Ah, you know... 'It takes all the running you can do, to stay in the same place,'" he muttered, his voice clipped and hollow; Bermudian accent casual, almost detached. He turned his eyes to the boy; offered him a faint, strained smile. "Keeps things interesting, I suppose... but I appreciate your concern, lad."

He lifted his fingers to his cheek, feeling the moisture trickle down—salt on his lips. Tears, sharp and stinging. Jervis flinched and quickly scrubbed them away with the heels of his hands.

Cold metal pressed into his spine, tight around his neck—the chain with his and Sylvie’s wedding rings twisted against his skin. He must’ve been thrashing in his sleep. There was blood on his lips.

"Forgive me…" His vision swam as he watched the boy set a teacup on the small table beside the cot, just within view. "But I'm afraid I've rather lost my sense of time. How long has it been since I…?" He paused, his voice barely steady. "... if... if you don’t mind, could you please reach into my coat pocket? You'll find a small cuddly toy. A rabbit..." He rubbed his mouth, lowered his eyes. "It sounds foolish, I know... but it... it was my daughter's, you see..."

The boy nodded, moving quickly to retrieve the toy from Jervis’ coat pocket, and placed it on the table beside the teacup. The bunny was missing one of its button eyes, its white fur faded and matted. A pink satin ribbon around its neck was frayed and tattered.

“Thank you,” Jervis said hoarsely. “I must have been out of it for quite a while.”

[chaddicus]

just bc I need to say it somewhere and I don't really have friends who play rn.... I started playing GW2 again a little while back, after not touching it for a while... I made new characters to play bc I wanted to start fresh... anyway yesterday I logged on to an old character for the first time since I came back, and. I learned. that I apparently had not played on those characters for like. six years? seven? since I made them. and they had a shit load of birthday/anniversary items in their mail. both characters. which had various account-wide unlocks of cool stuff.

I already deleted three other characters I had made at the same time so I could start over, without logging in to check if they had mail.

🤦

[writingmeraki]

hot & cold I

READ PART TWO HERE !

a min ho mini series !

summary : Feeling the warm butterflies in your stomach as well as the cold sinking feeling in your heart wasn't the best especially just because of one person nonetheless you think it was worse because that person was none other than the guy you apparently hated with your entire existence.

( or you long crossed the blurry lines of love and hate when it came to Minho and were both just idiotic enough to not realise that until you had to force it out of yourself because of your stupidity.)

genre : angst, fluff, comfort !

pairing : minho x fem!reader, e2l, idiots to lovers.

warnings : mentions of alcohol and underage drinking, kissing and making out, cussing. both being dumb and too high on their ego. kinda blame it on Minho in this one I fear 😨

author's note : and as my obsession goes crazy, I knew I had to write a miniseries on Minho. I honestly have no idea how long it can be this time, it'll mostly depend on your feedback but also how long I make this but expect 2-3 parts more ?? this was written out of nowhere tbh because I had a really different idea for this. anyways enjoy and let me know what you think ! <3 ( not proofread as usual, we die like real men ���)

based on this request !

word count : 4.3k

"Maybe you should put that down now."

Kitty said, observing the way you tipped down the cocktail, be it a secret yet not secret alcoholic one.

You winced and shook your head as you smashed the glass down after, Kitty having to shoot an apologetic look to the temporary bartender, who wanted nothing more than to be anywhere else but a party of drunk and horny teenagers sneaking in alcohol and downing it as though they were going through all stages of grief at the moment or in moments of classical teenage stupidity.

"Oh- KAY! I think that's more than enough." She pulled your hands away from the other cocktail that was served up,despite this one now being the only non-alcoholic, she felt it was getting a lot and you whined at her, she narrowed her eyes at you.

"Y/N, you've had more than enough."

"Noooo, I'm fine I can handle ittt." Your words slurred and she gave you a blank stare, holding up two fingers, she asked

"Okay then, how many fingers I am holding up?"

You narrowed your eyes, trying to think hard and giggled as you spoke

"Kitty, Katty since when did you have six fingers?" A drunken smile sat on your face as you leaned forward pointing your finger to count the 'six' fingers.

You vision was blurry but you were still able to make out the outline of what was in front of you.

Kitty rolled her eyes and sighed softly "How much did you even have?"

You put up both your hands, all fingers up and her eyes widened almost comically, it only made you giggle at her expressions,

"TEN? please tell me TEN sips!"

"Nooo silly, of course not…it was just three glasses with that sercret ingredient." You whispered to her as you leaned in closer as though you were telling a top secret and in a way it was, your lips were turned upwards, dimples lightly peaking.

"Alright, we have to get you back to the dorms then! Let me call Q and Florian, then we'll go okay? You stay here. Don't move Y/N!" She pointed at you, her words strict but you couldn't think about anything other than how pretty she seemed at the moment, so without much thought you blurted out,

"You look so pretty, Kit, you really do." Your eyes were half closed but you could see her wearing a tight black dress, her hair done down and straight, her black heels only making her figure look leaner.

Kitty, despite knowing you were drunk, couldn't help but laugh at your words, she shook her head and told you one last time before disappearing to find Q and Florian as soon as she could.

Looking up, the ceiling was multicolored, flashes of blue and green danced across it and you looked in awe as if it was a piece of art.

You looked around you, noticing the way the entire place seemed to be overcrowded but people were having fun, either getting shit drunk or dancing as if it was their last time.

Welcome to your life

There's no turning back

Even while we sleep

We will find you

You smiled when you heard the familiar tune and lyrics, having hearing it from your roommate and also ended up falling in love with it, the beat was slightly altered to make it more party pop but it only made it more better.

Standing up and stumbling slightly as you made your way to the dance floor, the world looking like it was moving fast as you also moved your body along to the crowd.

You felt as though you'd been hit so hard when you ended up colliding harshly into the person and you braced yourself for the fall, feeling as if you're flying high to come crashing hard into the ground.

Acting on your best behaviour

Turn your back on mother nature

Everybody wants to rule the world

And as cliche as it could get, you didn't feel the crash instead a stronger grip on your waist pulled you back up as the side face instead hit something soft yet firm.

You looked up and you felt the same awe when you saw the multicolored ceiling as though it was a piece of art, maybe even more, as your eyes scanned his face.

It's my own design

It's my own remorse

Help me to decide

Help me make the most

Colours shone on his face, highlighting his sharp jawline that you felt yourself get lost in, you continued to scan the bridge of his nose and his cupid's bow. You looked into his eyes and only felt your haziness increase as you felt the tug in your heart. They seemed to drink you in as you did him, and your gaze turned to the way one corner of his lips turned upwards.

The arm around your waist felt warmer than it should and you definitely felt the heat on your face, your entire body even. Your knees felt more weaker as you prayed your legs didn't give up on you, and with this the grip on your waist only got tighter.

Minho looked down at you, his gaze never leaving your face as he held you up. Staring at your lips for a little longer than he should have. The fact that he felt as if there were sparks of electricity running through just by the waist around your arm and most of your body weight on his, made him only want more. More than he should be wanting.

And again, letting your intrusive thoughts take the wheel of your actions, you lifted up one hand and brushed it along his jawline.

"Ouch…paper cut." Giggling at your ridiculous joke, you rested your head on his shoulder now, moving your arms around his broad shoulders.

Naturally, his own arms now fully wrapped around your waist and if someone, which more than a few heads turned, saw you in this position, it'd look more intimate than it should. Considering how far down you both go.

Minho smiled unknowingly, the sound of your giggles always making his heart race more than it should.

"I know you're clumsy as fuck, but I didn't think you'd fall for me this soon, I guess it would happen soon anyways considering how intelligent and good looking I am."

Your eyes moved to look up into his, noticing his lips pulled into a smirk that really only did more things unbeknownst to you,and you narrowed them before slurring out,

"You sound exactly like Minho, I actually thought it was almost you." You continued mumbling,

"But I know it's definitely not him, considering he was already busy with that…Madison." You rolled your eyes, slowly shutting them and you pushed your head back down onto his shoulders and moved closer to the crook of his neck, craving the warmth he radiated.

"Plus I'm sure he'd let me fall face first on the ground if I fell on him the way I just did." You mumbled into his neck, he felt himself control the shiver that run down his spine when your lips touched his neck as you mumbled.

Frowning, he spoke up, wanting to defend himself even if it seemed pointless,

"No, he wouldn't." He said firmly and you looked up at him as you thought of his words,

"Considering how we are, I don't think I'm wrong to assume he'd do that." Even though you were drunk, you spoke the words more smoothly as if it was a whole truth.

"Besides I don't even care what he does, he can go kiss that…that girl for all I care, no I definitely don't care if he does this with her, if he looks at her like that way."

Minho's expression turned down, his eyebrows furrowing and his lips pulled into a frown,

"What way?" He asked softly as he could see your eyes tearing up and you gulped sadly and you put on a dejected smile,

"How I wish, I wish he'd look at me, for once." You said more gently, whispering letting your vulnerable feelings speak up.

He only felt his heart sinking the more he took in the sadness and vulnerability showing on your face, he felt his guilt double than it had before as he recalled why he'd even been making out with Madison in the first place.

He'd felt his entire focus zone in on the person who'd just walk in the place.

Even as much as he seemed to hate your mere presence, his eyes always seemed to drift towards you much to his annoyance.

His gaze felt heavy as it dragged from the shoes you'd worn to the hairstyle you'd done. Your outfit consisted of a maroon tight dress that had ended just below your knees, a teasing slit running just a little further up your left side, just enough to make someone want to see more.

Your lips were a similar shade of maroon as you smiled, depths forming on your cheeks that tugged at his heart, your hair done down and resting just below your shoulders.

You looked…you looked better than he could even describe.

Beautiful would be a word, but he thinks it underwhelms you.

Kitty was beside you in her black dress and her hair done down but his eyes couldn't stop drinking you in as if it was not enough for him.

He wanted something he shouldn't. He shouldn't be thinking about you right now the way he is.

He forced himself to look away, searching for someone else in the crowd.

He looked better than he should and you hated the way your eyes moved to the dip between his throat and shirt.

Gosh that's such an ugly fucking colour you thought yet you felt fainter as your eyes scanned the way his hair was parted, something you knew only he could pull off. Some loose strands sat on his forehead and you hated the way you felt your legs almost give up in these tight heels as you took in the way the blazer fit his broad shoulders.

Fuck he looked good.

You looked at him, observing him scanning the crowd as he disappeared away.

"Let's get this party started!" Kitty said excitedly to which you lightly laughed,

"Kitty it's already started, we are already like forty minutes late because of a certain someone but sure! Love the enthusiasm! Woo!" You chuckled as you saw her excitement bubble down and then laughing along with you.

"Let's go then girls! The best place at a party, the bar!" Q threw his arms around both your shoulders as he sloshed himself between you, now pulling you towards the bar.

The bartender served up five mocktails which you thought were too beautiful looking to be drank but you raised a toast,

"Here's to meeting new people and ending our bitchless eras!" You toasted as you giggled which was followed by the rest clinking their respective glasses onto yours as you took a sip.

"Guys,I have something." Florian spoke as he pulled a flask from his blazer and your eyes widened at the sight, knowing what it was.

"Oh My God! No way… now you're the real one for this." You said as he winked at you and opened the flask, the smell already indicating what it was as he poured in a bit into yours and his.

"Ohh me too! Me too!" Kitty said as she pushed her glass towards him and he poured in hers as well.

"The last for the best." Florian spoke as he poured it in Q's drink which made him look away and you smirked as you saw him almost blush.

"Now this is a real toast." You finally clinked your drinks for the last time, now taking in a sip, wincing yet loving the bitter taste that contrasted well with the sweetness of the cocktail.

"By the way, Y/N, I don't think you're ever going to be able to meet new people." Kitty spoke which made you turn to her in confusion.

"I mean come on, you won't be able to meet new people because you already are into someone." She continued and now looked towards Q, him nodding in agreement as you still looked in confusion.

"Oh please, don't look like a lost puppy now, we all saw the way you basically bore your eyes into Min ho as soon as you saw him like a hungry vulture or something." Q said which made Florian chuckle and you only glared at his words as though looks could kill.

"You don't plan a murder out loud now do you?" You defended yourself as Kitty rolled her eyes,

"More like you'd kill anyone who'd dare even hurt a fraction of his hair." Kitty said to which now both Florian and Q nodded, feeling betrayal as you looked at Florian, thinking he'd been on your side to which he only raised his hands in his defense.

"Look, Y/N, maybe you don't see it, but you definitely go past the so called hate line you both have." He said as he knew you surely felt more for him than the passive aggressive persona you showed when he was around.

"After all they do say the lines between love and hate tend to blur." Kitty said as she took a sip of her drink and you only scoffed, ready to reply saying you knew where you stood and you were gladly under the hate side, despising Min ho because of his unbearable personality that would make you so mad.

So mad you'd want to punch his pretty face at times.

"Uh oh." Q said suddenly as his eyes caught a sight that he wished wouldn't have but they quickly widened when he realised you were literally right next to him and probably heard him.

Naturally your eyes moved to where he was looking, and oh how you wished you also didn't see what you just saw but for completely different reasons that you couldn't put a finger on at the time being.

Minho stood next to Madison as he whispered something into her ears, which made her laugh, you saw the way his arm was wrapped around her waist, hiding her close to him.

You felt like throwing up as your stomach recoil and churn, moving your eyes, not wanting to think more of this than you should. But it seemed as though it was impossible as the image replayed in your mind.

You felt the tension in the air when your face twisted bitterly, noticing your friends also tensing up and felt guilty for suddenly changing the cheerful mood.

"Guys come one now, I don't care, now go and have fun!" You reassured them as they looked at you skeptically.

"Listen, he can go and fuck around with whoever he wants, I really don't care. We shouldn't let this ruin our moods. Now go." You bit on your tongue as put on a tight smile, no usual dimples peaking, a sign it was fake.

Hearing the firmer tone at the end, Q and Florian nodded as they held hands "Okay then, find us when you need us okay?"

Q said as you just mindlessly nodded and they also moved into the flow of the crowd.

Kitty still looked at you skeptically but you just smiled at her, now a genuine one telling her to go on and finish her agenda of meeting new people.

At least one of you seemed ready to move on.

"Thank you." You heard a voice suddenly speak up from beside you as you sat nursing the cocktail in your hands, it's coolness relieving the warmth your body felt.

"Oh someone with manners, I like that." You said putting down your drink, deciding that if he can fuck around when he wants, who were you to not as well.

The guy next to you turns towards you, him taking in your figure, a smirk forming on his face as he realised who you were.

"I'm Geon." He said to which you smiled.

"Y/N." You spoke up to which he chuckled which made you a bit confused,

"Oh I know." You raised an eyebrow at his words,

"It's an honor to have the hottest girl here talking to me." He said with a grin as you then lifted your drink to take another sip, after which you giggled at his words, even though you didn't think you would have even been phased if it weren't for the alcohol now slowly flowing in your system.

"Oh yeah? Tell me more." You leaned in closer to him with a smug smile, biting your lip lightly to which you think again, this probably wouldn't be happening right now if it weren't for the liquid courage or your mess of an emotional baggage.

This whole spectacle was being seen by someone who'd otherwise think you were both already together. He rolled his eyes, looking away as he clicked his tongue, folding his arms and a scowl of both disgust and jealousy forming on his face.

Of course.

He thought looking back at the pair of Geon and you.

"I think she's better than all the other girls, even Yuri, people say she's the prettiest but don't realize that they are wrong. And Kitty next to you looks so underwhelming but both of them are nothing but plain next to you."

And despite you starting to feel more tipsy, you controlled the urge to just flip him off.

Instead you leaned in closer, raising one hand and cupping his face, bringing your face near his ear, as though you'd whisper about how he was definitely right, a light smile forming on his face.

That's what he thought at least.

Chuckling lowly, you whispered sweetly,

"You know sweety, what type of men I absolutely despise?"

You briefly made eye contact with him when he looked down at you from the corner of his eye.

"The ones who bring women down in hopes of getting into my pants and thinking that will actually work."

You trailed your hand down his neck, fingers lightly touching, he gulped as he shivered under your touch, the grin forming on his face long gone when he heard the venom lacing your tone.

"Let alone the fact that they are my best friends, and trust me, if I wanted to I'd punch the shit out of you right now but,listen to me carefully."

You rested your hand on his collarbone,

"No girl is meant for your judging pleasure especially not for undeserving dickheads like you and if you dare talk to me again, trust me, I can do much worse than you can think."

You leaned back and patted his chest, grinning widely, but your eyes said a completely different story.

"Now. Fuck off."

And fuck off he did as he swallowed nervously, turning around and moving into the crazy crowd,mumbling something under his breath, you not really caring to pay attention to his words as you sighed out, rubbing your forehead with your fingers.

Men are nothing but disappointment, what did I even expect ?

"Hey guess what!- what happened to you?" Kitty said as she suddenly appeared from your right side making you surprised but you smiled at her reassuringly, not wanting her to know what that jerk said for obvious reasons.

"Oh it's nothing, it's getting noisy that's all." Kitty didn't seem convinced at all because she did spot you talking to Geon, not wanting to interrupt when he saw you whispering something to him,

Huh so she really was serious about the whole meeting new people thing?

But when he walked away looking a little paler, she figured it was not exactly what it looked like, deciding that she should intervene now.

"Oh-kay but you know what, I just…" You now looked forward your back facing the bar as you placed your elbows on the counter, leaning onto them, raising an eyebrow at her for her to continue,

"I am glad I came here, I'm glad we all did, I'm happy, for once and it feels so…so good to be happy with you guys who I didn't think would even be my friends."

She said smiling at you, her sitting down next to your stool, and you turned your neck, looking at her now,

You smiled, finally a genuine one and it showed when your dimples showed,

"I'm glad I met you guys as well." You told her and just as she was about to say something, her eyes trailed towards your left, narrowing to make sure she was seeing right.

She froze when she saw you look at her, naturally wanting to see what made her look the way she was looking right now.

"Uh! Well look you know I'm happy you…uh well you agreed to come here!" She pulled your shoulders a little forcefully, the rotating barstool moving and making you now face her.

You looked perplexed at her behaviour, especially how she almost knocked you out but she just smiled at you, a little too forcefully.

"I just think you should know you deserve better than you think and even if it's not-"

"Kitty."

You called out to her, stopping her rambling, moving your hands up from off your shoulders.

"What's got you so…so nervous all of a sudden?" You questioned seeing her eyes still fixated behind you, her hand stopping you again from turning around.

"I just don't think you should see this. Really." She swallowed nervously and you waved her off,

"It's not that deep Kitty chill." You said but how you wished you'd listen to her.

You went rigid, seeing the sight now in front of you and clenched your jaw.

There was Minho in all his glory, kissing, no more like passionately making out with none other than Madison.

He had his arms around her waist as she played with his hair, and you could see her smile into the kiss. His mouth moved from her lips to her jawline and you watched her giggle as he seemed to be whispering something that made her laugh only more.

Fuck.

Why did it feel like someone just ripped your heart out and smashed it right in front of you with their bare hands?

You turned towards the bar, squeezing your eyes shut, holding your head in your hands as you felt the pounding in it get harder.

You gulped harshly trying to squeeze the image out of your brain,

"Y/N." Kitty put her hand on your shoulder, her warm touch contrasting the coldness you felt.

"Ah, I should have listened to you." You laughed but it held no humour. You could feel your emotions go all over the place as you replayed everything you'd seen till now.

Both of them laughing together, him looking at her as if she was the only on there, him focusing on her as if she was the only one there, him making out with her as if she'd slip away from his hands.

"You know what maybe I just need a little drink." You raised your hand up calling for the bartender and asking for two cocktails.

You put your hand out to Kitty expectedly, her frowning at the way you tried to act as if it was all right but she could see the unshed tears on your lash line.

Before she could say anything, you asked her quickly,

"Where's that whisky Florian gave you?" Talking about the flask she'd been hiding in her purse that was given to her by Florian.

"Y/N, you can't just drink away your emotions like this, you can't even handle alcohol-"

"Kitty, I'll be fine, just…just give it to me please?"

She sighed, she knew about your tendency to avoid talking about your feelings. She just opened up her purse and removed the flask just as the bartender served the drinks.

You took it from her and poured a questionable amount but you didn't really care at the moment, wanting to feel the high rather than the heaviness you currently felt creeping in your chest.

Raising a toast to yourself, you grinned up at Kitty, a sorrowness that only made her feel more and more sympathic for you.

"Here's to the most unluckiest person at the moment, me!"

That was now half an hour ago, and here you were now wrapped tightly around the very person who'd made you feel miserable in the first place.

"You know it's not even his fault. We don't even like each other. I'm pretty sure he hates me but why the fuck does it hurt so bad?" You whined as you pulled away from the supposed stranger's, attractive one at least, body and stood up on your own.

You pushed his arms away from you and you almost stumbles but held one hand out when he tried to hold you again to prevent you from falling,

"Y/N you'll fall-"

"No, I'm fine, I swear. I don't even know why I just dumped that weird emotional baggage onto you, sorry."

"Thank you anyways, for you know saving me from breaking my own face right there, if you want me to repay you, just come to Chemistry class first period on Monday!"

You stepped away from him and trying to not cry because no matter how drunk you were you didn't want to cry over some stupid boy.

Minho stood there, his eyes downcast as he remembered the look on your face, he ran a hand through his hair, exhaling heavily.

How do I even begin ?

READ PART TWO HERE !

all written works as well as images and edits (unless credited) belong to pri.do not plagiarise, repost, re-edit or claim as yours. pics mostly found on pinterest.

writingmeraki Ⓒ 2023

feedback is appreciated hehe :D 💗

links : main navi !

[fangsyouverymuch01]

Just friends

Summery: The hero of Baldur's Gate greatest battlefield is now drunkenly returning home from the tavern because your connection to the arcane world is dying, and it has been for months. Adding to it, is your unresolved feelings from a certain vampire you've sworn to forget.

Rolan and Lia, aiding you in your search for answers, are determined to divert your mind from troubles. Unbeknownst to you, this night is destined to change everything.

Pairing: Astarion x f!tav, Astarion x f!reader , Rolan x reader

Warnings: Fightning, sort of depressed reader, drinking, Astarion being a prick

Tags: Slow burn, friends to lovers

Note: This took way too long to write, and tbh I'm scared to publish it. Had a hard time coming up with a plot that would make sense (and yes this is the underdark/menzoberranzan fic)

Nevertheless, hope you enjoy and stick around for more parts in the future.

In front of you is an array of literature varying from books, scrolls and notes. Just like yesterday and the day before that. Picking up yet another scroll and unrolling it, the words painted on it turns into a blur. Arcane symbols dance before your eyes but the contents of the page escapes your fleeting mind and it drifts to past memories of Moonrise Towers. 

“...And all I had to do was not fall for you… Which is where my nice, simple plan fell apart,” he pauses, searching for the right words to continue. “You’re incredible. You deserve something real. I want us to be something real.”

Stunned by his confession, your own voice momentarily failed you. The Elf spoke again, revealing a truth that cut through your heart like a blade.“Being close to someone - any kind of intimacy - was something I performed to lure people back for him.”

Astarion further explains his train of thought, you could see his mouth moving but not a word reached your ears. Sadness, confusion, happiness and anger; the emotions mixed and collided within you. Was your relationship built on lies? Had you somehow forced him to sleep with you? It was all so much.

“I don't know how else to be with someone, No matter how much I’d like to.” 

You’d decided to remain just friends, and it had felt like the right choice. Liberating even, seeing Asterion grow into a person no longer controlled by fear. But now, you wallowed in selfishness due to your aching heart. Now it is the thing that keeps you from focusing on the task ahead. Now it is the thing keeping your from nights embrace, your body twisting and turning when the moon shone through the curtains. Now it is the numb feeling whilst faceless men sing your name between your legs. The decision, made with the intention of preserving your friendship, now felt as liberating as a chain strung to your neck. 

Moreover, you haven't seen him in weeks -  or could it be months? The passage of time blurs and certainly eludes you. Yet, effortlessly, his image flits into your head - bouncy white curls, piercing crimson eyes, a sharp nose and that godsdamn smirk. Interchangeable in your memory - forever young - he remains a vivid specter that refuses to fade.

Breaking your train of thought, there is a tap on your shoulder, a figure crouching over you to peer at the discoveries revealed in the scroll. 

“Found anything of interest?” Rolan spoke, eyeing you from above. 

“Ehm no, just lost in thought.” you replied, attempting to shake off the lingering memories that had clouded your focus. 

“Well, neither have I.” he puffed out a breath of air, “My best bet is to return to the House of Grief for more answers so I could study the mirror you spoke off.”

“I’m not sure they’d warmly welcome me back after my latest visit.” you let out a strained chuckle, struck by a memory of  Viconas lifeless person as Shadowhearts struck the merciless final blow to her chest. 

Since your time in the House of Grief, your bond with magic has slowly dwindled. The once-familiar currents of arcane energy now seemed distant. Magic had been an extension of you, and its absence felt akin to a cruel mutilation and you were desperate to feel magic coursing through your veins once more. Your desperation had led you here - Sorcerous Sundries, for any clue or hope that you might become whole again.

"Anyhow, have you heard from Gale yet?" you inquired, seeking a distraction from your thoughts.

"He deemed Waterdeep fruitless in our search and should be arranging plans to continue in Neverwinter as we speak," Rolan replied, his eyes pacing the floorboards beneath him. "Maybe we should pause our search for today; the sun is setting, and you, my friend, are in desperate need of a drink." His suggestion hung in the air, a respite offered amidst your futile search for answers. 

You had no energy to protest, you truly wanted to go, you really did. But what you needed was to dive into the mountains of untouched texts sprawled in a ring in front of you. 

Lazily tracing the arcane figures, partly lost in deliberation you answer “Thank you for the offer but I shouldn’t, you go and I’ll stay here.”

"Come on, just one drink. It won't solve all our problems, but it might provide a momentary escape," he insisted, recognizing the heaviness in your gaze. "We can resume our search tomorrow with clearer minds. Trust me, it's what you need right now."

A defeated sign escapes your lips “Fine, one drink but no more than that”. 

Laying a victorious touch on your arm, the tiefling grinned, "That's the spirit!" Helping you up, he proceeded, "The Elf Song in an hour; I need to run something by Lia first." With determined steps, he led you away from your search for answers in the pile of books. 

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

The warm light emanating from the Elfsongs' painted windows cast a glow over your figure as you linger outside the bustling door. The sound of laughter and clinking glasses weave together, that should beckon you inside but it doesn't. Nothing seems to pique your interest these days. The hero of Baldurs Gate was but a mere shell of what bards sang about and the thought of being recognized, of eyes filled with anticipation that lingers for extraordinary tales to be told - you can't stand it. 

Adding to your dread, are the invasive questions about your companions - about Astarion. Head spinning and lips slowly drooping to frown, you instinctively recoil from the entrance. 

With a heavy sigh, you reach into your bag, fingers wrapping around a familiar flask. The cool metal brings a small comfort, and in contrast your throat burns as you gulp down liquid courage. 

Stealing yourself against the prying questions and the weight of everyone's expectations, you push open the tavern door, stepping into the warm embrace of the tavern, where Rolan and Lia await, immersed in their own stories. You offer them a weak smile as you approach the booth. 

“There you are, I almost thought you wouldn’t show but I’m glad to be proven wrong.”

“Come, sit!” Lia urges, patting the cushion beside her. As you settle into the booth, you can't help but notice the curious eyes around you.

Gods no.

Instinctively, your finger twirls and you mutter a spell to cast disguise self, only to be reminded of your uselessness. A tinge of frustration tightens your jaw, quickly masked by a forced smile. You divert your gaze, hoping to shield yourself from the unwanted attention. 

“What’s your poison for today?” Lia asks, a mischievous smile spreading from cheek to cheek. Her breath smells of alcohol; Lia and Rolan had clearly begun drinking ahead of you. Not that you could judge them, having indulged in your trusted flask outside the tavern minutes ago. 

“I’ll have what you’ve had.”

“Coming right up!” Lia responds, her enthusiasm undeterred. She signals the bartender, and soon enough, a trio of drinks arrives at the table. 

Rolan is the first to grip the glass and then clear his throat, “To us,  and Gale - and hope that tomorrow will give us more answers.” 

One drink turns into four drinks, and at some point, you lose track of both time and the units you’ve allowed to warm your gullet. Honestly it’s quite funny, why did you worry so much before? Silly you with silly thoughts! Almost as silly as Rolan’s eyes focused on your neck. He looks funny with his eyebrows furrowed, and a chuckle escapes your lips at the sight.

“You’ll get wrinkles if you keep staring at my neck like that, Rolan.”

“I did no such thing!” he retorts as a flush creeps up on the tiefling's cheeks.

Lia heartily laughs, swaying a bit, and offers her hand to you. “Join me for a dance, will you?” The music in the tavern entices you and despite the blurred lines of inebriation, you take Lia’s hand and step into the lively dance floor.

Lia practically dragged you through the crowded tavern, Rolan following closely behind to his best abilities. The dance floor was filled with twirling bodies, in rhythm with the bard's melodies. Pulling your arm up, Lia spins and chuckles as you reach the bards scene. Rolan, with a playful twinkle in his eyes, reaches the two of you and joins the dance. The world seems to sway with the music and for the first time in a long time, a genuine smile spreads across your face. 

As you moved to the music, you sensed Rolans’ proximity. His hand found its way to the small of your back, guiding you through the intricate steps of the dance. The unfamiliar warmth of his hand against your skin was a stark contrast to the memories of Asterion's cool touch.The bard's music kept on playing, the tunes bouncing off the plucked strings, the odor of alcohol on his breath, and hot uncontrolled bodies clashing against your person -  Gods, its too much. You can't stay a minute longer or you might suffocate. 

“I need some air,” you mumble and offer an apologizing smile, excusing yourself as the dance continues without you. 

“Wait!” a muffled voice calls out, but you pretend that you’re too far off to hear. 

Faces blurred into a sea of strangers, and the lively chatter became an indistinguishable hum. Your breath quickened, and you couldn't shake the feeling of faceless men and women judging your every step. Because now they know - they know that you were no hero of Baldur's gate, just another drunk who couldn’t even cast a simple spell to disguise herself from embarrassment. 

Pathetic. 

As you stepped out into the cool night air, the contrast between the warmth of the dance floor and the refreshing chill outside sent shivers down your spine. Crouching down you plant your hands to your knees, trying to catch your breath and ease your mind. 

A moment later, the tavern door swung open abruptly, an curly haired man emerging as he wrestled with another almost feral one. The creature thrashed and snarled at the curly haired man as he strained against the frenzied movements. Caught off guard, you stood up in the shadow beside the entrance, your breath hitching again as you observed the scene unfold. 

Seizing the opportunity to make sense of the situation, you assertively approached the struggling men, dagger clutched and ready strike if needed. The curly-haired man's eyes flickered toward you and your gaze met his.

Deep crimson eyes, ivory curls, and are those fangs?

No, that can't be.

"Astarion?" you uttered, your voice a hushed whisper that sliced through the night, your eyes fixed on the elf's face in utter disbelief. There he was, right before you.

Astarion's attention shifted to the rabid man, deftly maneuvering to subdue him. He restrained the creature, halting any further erratic movements. With precision, Astarion extracted a flask from his belt, causing the man's struggles to intensify. Despite the increased resistance, Astarion's actions remained calculated and exact.

With the man momentarily contained, Astarion secured him in place with one hand, the other retrieving a flask. He raised it to his mouth, a subtle glint of fangs emerging as he skillfully removed the lid with his teeth.

"Hello," the rogue spoke, pausing to inject the man with the unfamiliar substance. The feral struggles ceased, and Astarion continued, his tone now imbued with a nuanced warmth, "darling."

Stunned you remain constrained where you stood. This is real, Astarion is here after days, weeks and months of him plaguing your thoughts every waking moment. Your mind races, trying to process the surreal present. A rumble in your stomach seems to pull you out of your trance, nausea spreading in your throat. 

Keep. it. down. 

“Care to help or do you intend to stand there and just gawk?”

Once more the door beside you swung open, a tall figure emerges with swaying strands of long hair catching in the wind, intent on reaching the paralyzed man and Astarion. 

“We said no killing, remember?" he spoke.

"Oh, my apologies, brother. I must have forgotten our little agreement when I was wrestling the feral dog whilst you were nowhere to be seen.”

At that moment, you recognized the man - Leon. His expression remained stoic, though a flicker of irritation crossed his features. "Your theatrics aren't amusing, Astarion. We need to keep them alive; this is not the time nor place for you to display your unique methods."

You finally had a surge to act, fumbled in your bag and searched for any potion or scroll that could help. A glass vial of what seemed to be a healing potion met your fingers, and you pulled it out, unscrewing the cap with shaky hands. 

“Here take this,” you called out, holding the potion aloft, offering a forced smile amidst the charged atmosphere. 

As you step forward to give Leon the vial, Rolan stumbles out the tavern door, tipsy and eyes searching for something in the night. You’d completely forgotten about Rolan and Lia, they’d probably been worried since you hadn’t returned. His eyes widened at the chaotic scene before him, and he instinctively moved to stand in front of you, a protective gesture. His hand flickered with a small flame, ready to defend against any potential threat. 

"What in the hells is happening here?" Rolan demanded, a mix of concern and bewilderment in his voice.

Before anyone could respond, Astarion let out a small laugh, one that you couldn't seem to decipher the meaning of. What was so funny? Rolan certainly wasn't amused, and the flame rose higher from his palm at the elf's dismissive laugh. Leon's gaze moved to Rolan, his hands raising in a gesture of peace, showing that they were no threat to him or you.

“Got yourself a knight in shining armor, have you now?” Astarion remarked, a sly grin playing on his lips.

Knight in shining armor? The words stung, and a spark of anger flared within you. Rolan didn't need to save you nor did you want him to. Opening your mouth to retort, Leon interjected, his voice firm and commanding.

“Astarion, don’t,” Leon snapped at him, a stern edge to his voice. He then looked directly at you, his expression softening. “We don’t want to fight you. Let's find a quieter spot to talk, and we’ll explain everything.”

You nodded, the tension in the air making it clear that this was not the time for confrontation. Rolan, still wary but trusting your judgment, lowered the flame in his palm. With cautious glances exchanged between the group, you began to move away from the chaotic scene, guided by Leon's lead to a more secluded spot where answers awaited. 

[potato-lord-but-not]

I'm so enamored with the Holy Ghosts au now. Give me two doodles and uncategorized lore and I'll eat it up tbh.

But what I came here to say is this: The fact that Noel expects Arthur to come back, knows he and John will come back (because he knows what they've been through and if they can get through this, they can probably get through damn near everything), is brilliant.

Especially when coupled with Oscar's grief. I call it grief because he doesn't know where Arthur is, doesn't know what happened to him; he was left on the doorstep of a hospital without much info or things to sustain his hope on. And next thing he knows, Noel is probably giving him one of the most confusing explanations - trying not to out John's existence - and saying he disappeared into thin air because of the same guy who made the butcher's head explode. Anyone would assume he would be dead.

What I think would realistically happen when they come back, is a fuckin whiplash for Oscar. He's grieved Arthur, he's gone through all the stages, he's accepted that he'll never see him again. Even if he wasn't dead, he probably wouldn't want to meet up, because well. He left him already. And then he shows up at the door, probably drenched in water and blood, and it's just... unraveling all that Oscar managed to accept and come to terms with.

"You died."

"I didn't ! We- I'm- I'm back !"

"You're.. back ?"

"Yes !! Oscar, you can't imagine, I'm- I'm so happy to finally see you again- I- A-are you okay ?"

"I thought you were dead. You're supposed to be dead. I accepted you were gone and I would never see you again, and now you're here ?! Alive, standing on your own two godforsaken feet, the same ones that walked away from me back then. I don't.. *sigh.* I need time."

ahh interaction

i need to write about them. yet another dynamic I'm now obsessed with

NOBODY FUCKING LOOK AT ME I WILL SOB

[drkmgs]

Promise, I'll be back FINAL

Jenna Ortega x Reader

Warnings: Angst, Fluff

Summary: Part 3 of Homecoming and Promise, I'll be back.

Tbh, I wanted to write it longer but with the limited time I have, because of work... this would do for now....

When one of the survived officers showed up on Jenna's doorstep to hand your final letter, she completely broke down. Only with the help of her mother was she able to stand up and settle down on the couch. Her mother engulfed her into an embrace to comfort her mourning child.

"You don't have to read it now, but one day, you would like to know what Y/N's last words are for you. Once you read it, you will feel better and move on. Continue to live for you and for Y/N. I'm sure that's what they'll ever want." Jenna held onto the letter very tight and silently sob against her mom's shoulder.

In the following months, Jenna purposely fully booked her schedule. It has nothing to do with a certain letter, waiting for her to rip open and read it. She knew she would eventually have to open it. She knew as soon as she opened it, that would be your final goodbye to her. That she would never see you again. She would have to accept that you are gone and would never come back to her.

One day, she paces in her trailer, nibbling on her thumb, and keeps glancing at the letter that was poking out of her bag. This is the hardest decision-making that she'd ever had.

Finally, she took the letter and ripped it open.

Hello my love,

I'm sorry. I couldn't keep the promise. I only had an hour to write you this letter. I had so much in my head that I wanted to write down for you to read, and now that I'm actually doing it, I can't remember any of it.

Just remember I love you, and I always will. I'll be waiting for you. Keep achieving your goals for me and you.

yours only,

Y/N Ashford.

That's it. After several months, she accepted that you were gone. The following days are filled with grief and moving on. Fans have noticed her change of mood, and a lot of reporters have asked about you, but she managed to avoid all the questions. Because of that, a lot of people thought Jenna was just going through a breakup.

Jenna was busy filming her next movie when someone in the set let out a loud gasp, which ruined the take. Jenna watched the staff who ruined the take show something on her phone, and then everyone started to take out their phones. Jenna was confused. She only got enlightened when one of the staff showed their phone.

It's a live broadcast from looks like an abandoned building, and two people in military uniform are tied up almost slouching down with black cloths covering their heads. Two men standing behind them with guns. It's clear that they were or are being tortured. Then, a man with a skul mask appeared in front of the camera, talking in a different language, which translates to:

"Give us 10 billion US dollars, and these american soldiers are going home alive."

Then, the two men took off the black fabric from the soldiers. Jenna gasped and almost everyone at the studio, too. Captain Y/N Ashford and their sergeant are being tortured for money by this group of people.

Jenna's tears are pouring nonstop, and she's also shaking. The man with the skul mask kept talking in a different language when suddenly a bullet striked him in the head and dropped on the floor. There were bullets fired from all the directions, and the live stream ended.

The studio fell in silence as everyone was still in shock or silently crying. The director decided to stop the filming and wrapped up for today, as they were cleaning the studio, they heard a helicopter approaching. Everyone exited the studio just to see a military helicopter landing in the wide open space in front of the studio.

You climbed out of the vehicle with fresh tended wounds. Among the crowds, a small figure came out of the studio running with full speed into your arms. She almost knocked you off your feet, but you managed to keep your balance and embraced her tight.

"I don't ever leave me like that!" Jenna says and buries her head onto your chest.

"Didn't I promise you that I'll come back?" You asked, moving an inch away to see her face.

She nodded, looking straight into your eyes.

"I kept my promise." You say and lean in to kiss her on her lips.

The crowds were crying, applauding, and whistling.

[THE END]

[the-s1lly-corner]

Hi. Can I request something similar to the immortals outliving you? Could it be with the rest of the characters and us passing from other causes?

Their reactions to losing you

I wasnt sure if you wanted the immortals as well, so I added them in here as well!

This is all written in one go since tumblr doesnt let me save drafts for asks so I apologize for any spelling/grammar mistakes <\3 it's like 1am rn

CONTENT WARNINGS, idk what all needs a warning but I'd rather play it VERY safe:

M*rder

M*rder revenge, almost all of them touch on it tbh, love me the revenge trope

Snorts^

D3ath, obviously

Grief and the general hurt that comes with it

In EJs case he sees your death first hand

Does violently slamming yourself around count as SH /genq, because if so that's vagued in EJs part as well

Maskys handles a hit and run but its vague

Masky also hints to a smoking addiction

Nonspecific illness in hoodies part

Slenderman;

I remember that I mentioned this for Slendermans part, but I had an idea that he already accepted that fact that you wouldn't last forever

But I don't remember if I mentioned/vagued the idea of how he'd react to you're life being forcibly cut short

Accepting the fact you'll eventually pass away does nothing when he finds out someone else was responsible for your sudden end

All that comes out is a cold rage, something that the creature hasn't experienced in a long time

Writing this, it makes me remember that clip from the first episode of castlevania where dracula appears in the fire in episode one, after they kill his wife

But instead of carelessly showing himself to the world in a fit of rage, he fiercely protects everything that you touched; his forest, your home, your grave, ect

But despite the rage he doesnt immediately take down the person who caused this

Nonono, he does what he does best; he chips away at the person's mind through stalking and paranoia, essentially tormenting them for.. god knows how long until he gets bored

When he does decide hes through with them he'll make sure their... death... is drawn out

Basically don't meddle in the life of a forest monster; he may be a very... passionate.. lover

Splendorman;

Incredibly similar to the other version of this post where he naturally outlives you

But if you pass unnaturally, he'd be even more torn up about it

His time with you was already going to be short to begin with, but it was cut down even shorter

Doesnt matter the cause; murder, illness, accident, ect.. he'll be just as broken up

There's no real significant changes; he still mourns and honors you the same way for the most part

Laughing Jack;

It was an accident; one day you were there and the next, gone

He would stay in the house for a few days, not even knowing what was going on

At first he'd be worried and confused, before those feelings would deepen into something debilitating

He'd probably eventually find out through the news, after turning on the tv to pass the time and fill the silence

His worry immediately morphs into ice cold; he could feel his heart drop

He'd throw caution to the wind and try to track down whoever did he

He doesnt care if it was an accident, he wants justice and compensation

He follows a similar route as slenderman; the only thing is, is that jack lacks the patience to draw it out

After everything is said and done he's beside himself; avenging you didnt bring him back and it hardly made him feel better

He likely just. Goes back to what he was doing before he met you; drifting from house to house and causing havoc; but now he carries a melancholic aura

Eyeless Jack;

Another story of revenge, but with a twist so his part isnt too similar to LJ and slenders

So I'll be using the idea I should've given slenderman (but I'm too stubborn to rewrite his part)

Like Slenderman, Jack is seen as a cryptid and thus, there are naturally going to be people trying to hunt him down. Especially considering before he was a cursed monster he was a normal dude who got caught up in a whole... thing... and who's body was obviously never found as it still walks

Jack is.. semi used to that; but one day he completely catches him off guard, and what's worse is that you were there when it happened

It was a group, too, usually they come in two; but there were more that day. If it were less Jack could have easily put a stop to it all

It escalated

You had tried to step in to help him, to buy him some time so he could run; but it all went wrong

I don't like going into detail about this kind of thing, so this will be up to interpretation

The whole thing flings him into a rage and he makes quick work of the remaining hunters, but it's all too late

Even if he wasn't, how could he help? He cant just leave the woods and dump you at a hospital... but he doesnt have the supplies to help you then and there... and even if he did you were both much too far away from the cabin

It just leaves him helplessly trying to stop the bleeding

He hardly ever leaves the woods after that; not even to eat

He's resorted to.. rather violently subduing the monstrous side of him that craves flesh

There's broken furniture everywhere

He blames himself

He should have had you stay in the cabin

He should have told you to run

He should have told you to hide

He should've...

The worst thing is that he begins to believe that it was his fault; afterall he let you out of his sight when he began fighting. Even worse, and perhaps stupidly, he believed this wouldn't have happened if he never met you

Its

Rough

Masky;

He just sits there, quietly

Be it shock or something else he just sits there

But his mind is going a mile a minute to try to figure out what exactly happened to you

You were.. in a wreck, and the other person just. Fled.

As feral as I tend to write and interpret masky, he can be thorough when it comes to investigating

Though I'm torn in whether or not he'd actually be able to find the person; especially because I'm kinda. Dumb when it comes to crime stuff and I'm not about to do mental gymnastics on something I'm not confident in <\3

In terms of grief, he seems... lost...

I don't usually hc that Masky smokes; that's just a Tim thing

But I feel like the smoking would bleed into Masky and become a whole... issue.. whether or not Tim as his own person knows about you/was involved with you is up to interpretation; as I tend to write the proxies as a separate.. thing

Still trying to find the correct term

But yeah

Focusing back in on Masky, he's kinda just lost. Angry, definitely, but mostly just. Wandering through life

He doesn't want to forget you

Hoodie;

Similar to Masky he's quiet and lost

Similarly he would feel the urge to try to find out who took you away; but I feel we've had enough "S/o dies at the hands of someone else" for this post, so we'll do something else... and because I fear hoodies portion will be too similar to maskys

You got sick, to put it simply

It's.. odd..

He's well aware that you're deteriorating, and he's aware that time is running out

But he can't help but feel calm in your presence; its only when you're apart that he feels that dread, and its constant

Maybe it's the fact that when he's with you he can easily convince himself that, in that moment, you're alright

It hurts when it finally happens

Out of all the guys, he's probably the most normal(?) About the situation

He visits your grave, a lot of the time, leaves little gifts there

He doesn't talk much, but he probably talks to you

Likely keeps something on him to remember you, like a locket or something

[itsevanffs]

My five favourite fics

Thanks for the tag @moontearpensfic :3

"Self-rec time! What are your favorite five fics that you've written and why? After replying to this ask, feel free to pass on to five other writers to spread the love. 💗"

Ok this is a little difficult. In no particular order:

slowly [E, 14/?, Spider-Verse, Miguel O'Hara/Miles Morales]

Slowly is currently my favourite fic! This might change but I'm 1/3rds through it and it's still going really strong, which is super fun. For those who don't follow my spiderverse stunts, here's a plot summary:

Miguel, a 37 year old divorcee, gets invited to Miles' 14th birthday party through happenstance, where they befriend each other. Over the next six months, that friendship deepens into something Miles isn't quite prepared to handle, and which Miguel isn't ready to give up.

It tackles a lot of (in my eyes) pretty complex subjects, like the nuances of parental neglect, grooming, trans experiences, sibling dynamics, teen sexuality and more :D Aside from that, it's also a PWP, which tend to be my favourites overall. It's a good brain squeeze for me to navigate all the intertwined realistic aspects while still making it believable, and from the response I've gotten, that seems to be something I do pretty well!

Anabiosis [E, 3/3, Harry Potter, Tom Riddle/Harry Potter (implied)]

Anabiosis was a big ol chonker of a fic, and took a lot of research to get right, particularly in the last chapter. I cried as I wrote the ending of the first chapter---I think I sobbed for about 20 minutes straight, a sentiment a lot of commenters have echoed---and it's very close and dear to my heart. It's a big character study about grief; grief for something you never got to have, grief for something you didn't know was there until it was gone, and grief for something you always took for granted. I think it turned out the best it could be, and I'm glad I wrote it.

At the expense of the world [E, 5/?, Harry Potter, Tom Riddle/Harry Potter]

At the expense of the world (or expense, for short) is one of the oldest ideas for a fic I've ever had. I've always been sort of fascinated by ancient Roman culture, and the second I learned about the honestly massive amounts of slavery they did, I wanted to write a fic about it. That's over a decade ago, now, although this fic itself is a lot younger; it's just turned 2 and a bit :D It's also got a lot of research behind it, and while it's more fantasy and PWP than anything else, I'm still really grateful to the very warm response it's gotten!

Sugar [E, 3/8, Spider-Verse, Miguel O'Hara/Miles Morales]

Sugar is a big excuse for me to play around with a bajillion iterations of the omegaverse at once, and it's really fun! I also really like how organic the dialogue has turned out; watching ATSV 30+ times has really helped me nail down their voices :D It's got some heavy topics in it, like sexism (fantasy sexism I guess) and cultural differences among universes regarding treatment of different dynamics. It's cool! I love exploring stuff like that, so Sugar is a tasty treat to me! (pardon the pun)

the bad man [E, 1/1 Spider-Verse, Miguel O'Hara/Miles Morales]

This is my first ever pornshot with complete nonconsent, which was a pretty notable milestone for me! I had a lot of fun writing it---I think I wrote it in like... a week or something. I'd check but that takes the fun out of it :P It has two iterations; a teacher/student version, and a brother/brother version. The brother version is a separate fic, you can find it in the series if you want. I'm not sure which one I like better, tbh

Okay, uhh, tag... @cindle-writes, @toast-ranger-to-a-stranger, doubling the tag for @mosiva, and @aldergroves and @muchymozzarella. no pressure obv :)

[coeluvr]

Hi, Coe! While we are on a topic of Fadiya: will she always be MC's mandatory friend? Or will there at least be an option to have a reluctantly polite relationship with her (if MC decides they need an ally but feel meh about the whole thing)/have one-sided friendship/grow apart? Thing is, she is THE most perfect fit for one of my MCs (and I am aiming to romance her on that playthrough), but for the other one... I feel like the type of the person they are, they will just close off when dealing with someone energetic and insistent like her because it would be just overwhelming to them (speaking from experience: I got majorly depressed after my grandpa who acted as my father figure passed away, and while I was functioning on the outside, any cheerfulness from well-meaning acquaintances or strangers just frankly, hurt, alienated and irritated me, so I actively avoided them, because, alas, trauma response is not always rational or pretty). Sorry to be writing it from anon, I'm just a bit iffy about mentioning personal stuff otherwise. And if it's not an option, it's understandable, since she seems to be your fav, and, as a writer, I get that some characters you just want to protect from being hurt, ever, so I hope it doesn't come off as if I'm pushing for a certain direction. Merely being curious about possible RP limitations.

[SOME CHAPTER 4 SPOILERS!!]

Hi, anon!

So in the narrative I tried my best to make it make sense on why MC (who is your character but also mine, co-parents if you will /j) would let Fadiya in. I'm not sure how much you have read of it but essentially it was very "it's nice to have her around (since literally everyone else sucks)" so I don't think our MC would feel THAT suffocated I guess because they did decide to let her in.

However, I do understand what you mean about grief and having someone who while well intended is just too much and makes you feel even more alone, like a reminder that they never went through what you did so I am happy to say that in Chapter 4 there is a part where MC can think exactly that!

The way I wrote it, it wasn't like "I need to get away from Fadiya right now I can't even be near her" it was simply... like a gap in their relationship. There is a part that just doesn't click but despite that they still like to have her around.

Now I can't spoil further which means I cannot answer most of your question but I do wish to remind that Fadiya's route / story in general tbh is like 2nd in terms of angst so think what you will with that.

[bella-rose29]

Reminders of her - George Karim x gn!reader

requested by anon: George Karim x reader (established relationship) where one of the Visitors they have to seal is the reader’s dead mom or sister or father (whichever you want)

I am so so sorry that this has taken me forever to write, I have been swamped with assignments and work and then a period of no imagination whatsoever, so I'm very sorry about that anon! I also had no clue how to end it so sorry about that too

I tried to make this gn (since no gender was specified), but there may be a slip up or two so I'm sorry if there is <3

Hopefully this is roughly what you wanted anon!

Word count: 1.7k

Warnings: mentions of character death (reader's mother) and dealing with grief, mentions of cancer (non-specific, but it's not aggressive).

Tag list: idk who wants to be tagged for George tbh (let me know if you do!) <3

(not my gif)

The inhabitants of 35 Portland Row were all relaxing in their various rooms when the doorbell sounded, startling everyone.

Lockwood hurried to the door, trying his best to not look too disgruntled in front of a possible client, but when he pulled the door open to see Y/n he gave up trying to rub the tea stain off the bottom of his shirt.

"Oh, hi. Everything alright?" They didn't say anything, head dipped so that Lockwood couldn't see their face, but when he heard the slight sniffles coming from Y/n he ushered them inside, immediately calling for George. Lockwood wasn't the best at dealing with people crying, and he'd had to learn for his job, but given Y/n was George's partner he figured he had a free pass this time. The boy in question came thundering down the stairs barely a minute later, pulling his jeans all the way up as he did so and fastening his belt before bringing Y/n into a crushing hug. Lucy appeared at the top of the stairs, peering at the scene in front of her, and when she saw her best friend crying she hurried into the kitchen to start making tea. Lockwood was left to stand awkwardly to the side, hands stuffed in his pockets while George comforted his partner.

"What's wrong, Y/n/n?" George asked, pulling back slightly to wipe away their tears. They sniffled a little bit, small sobs still breaking through as their chest heaved, trying to get the words out.

"It's- it's my mum," they broke off into tears again, hiding their face in George's t-shirt. "She- she's, uh... I need your help," they finished in a whisper, turning to look at Lockwood, and suddenly everything made sense.

"Where is she?" Lockwood asked softly, making eye contact with George. The two boys led Y/n into the kitchen, sitting them down at the table and providing a plate of biscuits (George was a compete hypocrite about the biscuit rule when it came to his partner). Lucy brought over a cup of tea, placing it down in front of Y/n with a small smile.

"Sort of just... everywhere. In the whole house. I don't know why she's only just turning up now, she's been dead for eight months."

"It doesn't always make sense," George said, pushing his glasses up. "We can come over tonight if you like, right Lockwood?"

The company head nodded, sympathetic smile on his face when Y/n looked his way, and Lucy murmured her agreement.

"That's decided then. We'll come over tonight and try and put her to rest completely, yeah?" Lockwood declared, and Y/n nodded, wiping the last of their tears away.

"Yeah, alright. Thank you."

~~~

That night, just before sunset, the four of them headed over to Y/n's house (the members of Lockwood and Co had refused to let them go back, insisting that they stayed until they were properly cheered up), kit bags slung over shoulders and rapiers at their hips. Y/n went without, having barely any Talent, clutching the silver rod that George had gifted them as a defence. Lucy and Lockwood strode ahead, George hanging back with Y/n as they dawdled.

"You alright?"

"I don't really know. I mean, she died of cancer, so that shouldn't really mean that she comes back as a Visitor, right? She died in her sleep, peacefully, and spent her last couple of months seemingly happy."

George was quiet for a while, debating what to say. He often had a habit of putting his foot in it, being the socially awkward person that he was, and dating Y/n had meant that he'd found himself thinking before he spoke much more. At first, he'd barely spoken to them when it was just the two of them, being too scared that he'd say something wrong and never see them again, but when they'd admitted that his blunt attitude was one of the things they most adored about him, he'd opened up more. Still, in situations like this a little thinking was required, especially since his partner's dead mother coming back as a ghost was the topic of conversation.

"Generally, Visitors seem to come back for unfinished business. Maybe she just wants to say good bye?"

"She had months for that though." Y/n was worrying their bottom lip in their teeth, a habit that had become more frequent since their mother's death.

"I really don't know, Y/n/n. Once we're there, though, I'm sure I will," he said, offering a small smile as they turned down their street. Y/n tried a smile of their own, but the worry was still there, growing with every step closer to their house the agents got.

"Come on you two, we're losing time!" Lockwood called, and George rolled his eyes.

"Ignore him. Those two can do without us for a bit if they need to. You alright? You're looking a bit pale."

"I- I'm fine, Georgie. I'm just... not really looking forward to this."

"I get it. Hey," he called, brushing his hand against Y/n's. "We'll sort it, yeah?" He linked their hands, and Y/n smiled properly, the action lighting up their face.

"Yeah. Thank you, George," they replied earnestly, planting a kiss on his cheek.

~~~

Y/n was worried.

It had been an hour since Lockwood, Lucy and George had set up, and while Y/n stayed in the kitchen, surrounded by the defences and armed with the silver that George had handed over earlier ("Just in case," he'd said, no hint of humour in his expression), the three agents had been eerily silent. They'd heard the creak of an occasional floorboard, and a whisper of voices from the living, but aside from that anybody observing the situation would think that Y/n was alone in the house.

They had zoned out a few minutes ago, getting bored of standing and waiting with nothing to do, when suddenly a figure appeared in the doorway.

"Mum?"

Their voice was shaking, damn it. Y/n had promised that they wouldn't get too scared, but the possibility of seeing their mother (and the further chance that their mother would try and attack them) was terrifying.

The figure crept closer, glowing faintly, and Y/n held their breath. It stopped just inside the doorway, and distantly Y/n heard themselves calling for George. Everything else was a haze. Time seemed to stop as the two of them observed each other, and while Y/n could feel a chill creeping up, the warmth they felt at seeing their mother's face again made it seem insubstantial. The trance was broken when Y/n was shoved to the floor, George landing on top as Lockwood and Lucy fought back against the now violent ghost of Y/n's mother.

"Are you alright? Y/n? Y/N?"

"Stop shouting! I'm fine," they huffed, unsure why George seemed so panicked.

"You were very nearly permanently ghost-locked, idiot!" Y/n's eyes widened.

"W-what? But I was fine! I didn't- I didn't think I was there for that long, was I?"

"Maybe, maybe not, but when we came in you were glazing over. I tried calling out to you but you weren't responding."

"Oh, so that's why you rugby tackled me to the floor." George leapt into action again at that, pushing up and offering a hand out to Y/n. Lockwood and Lucy had found the Source, and now the agency head stood with a small object wrapped in a silver net. "Is that... is that her?" Lockwood nodded.

"A comb, of all things. Luce says it was her favourite?"

"The one with the fake pearls in it?" Y/n asked, unable to tear their eyes off of the object.

"Yeah, looked like it. She um, she showed me something else," Lucy spoke, a little tentative. Y/n gestured for Lucy to continue, and the girl lead the two of them upstairs to their parents' bedroom. "There was a moment when she uh, she pointed to this drawer. There was a letter inside, addressed to you. I think she wrote it for you, and wanted you to have it. Did you know about it?"

Y/n shook their head. "No. I had no idea." Carefully they opened the drawer and lifted out the envelope inside, trying desperately to hold back the tears at seeing their mother's handwriting.

"Do you... do you wanna read it now? Because I can give you some space if you do," Lucy asked gently, placing a hand on Y/n's shoulder.

"Please, thanks Lucy." The girl wrapped them in a hug, tight and crushing, and when she pulled away she wiped the tears off of Y/n's cheeks.

"We'll be in the kitchen if you need anything, alright?" Y/n nodded, sitting down on the bed when Lucy had shut the door behind her with a soft click and opening the letter.

~~~

A short while later a knock sounded on the door, and George's messy curls poked in, followed by the rest of his body. "Hey, how are you doing?" He came over and sat down next to them, placing an arm around their shoulders and bringing them in for a slightly awkward hug.

"I'm okay. I think," Y/n frowned.

"What... what did the letter say?"

"Just about how much she loves me, and how proud she is of me. It's funny, it doesn't feel like she's gone a lot of the time, but every now and then I'll see something that makes me think of her and I just... I have to stop myself from breaking down." They paused for a moment. "The paper smells like her. It's nice to have this, as a reminder of her."

George didn't say anything, instead just stroking their back, and they were glad for the comfort. He might have a tendency to say the wrong thing sometimes, or accidentally offend people, but George was a damn good partner, and Y/n was glad that he was there to help them.

The two of them headed downstairs a few minutes later, finding Lockwood and Lucy arguing about what the best kind of biscuit was over cups of freshly made tea. George joined the argument, gesturing wildly as he fought for his biscuit of choice, and Y/n could only chuckle slightly at their partner's antics. They gladly accepted the mug of tea that Lucy pushed their way, and smiled at the three agents gathered in their kitchen.

Their mother might be gone, leaving a hole in Y/n's heart, but these three people in front of them were just what was needed to fill it.

[zee-stars]

Okay, first time doing this so uh- hello!!

OKAY!

For space Mark, imagine like, after Captain tosses the crystal into the wormhole and Mark yells at them, he hears like soft sobs, and realizing that it isn't him he snaps back into reality to realize that it's the CAPTAIN crying. Which is like- really ooc for them because they're always so set on being strong for everyone else and making sure to support their team, so hearing them break down really hits kinda hard, and he realizes that they're just as much of a victim to this as everyone else is.

Like, angsty fluffy stuff because it's cute and captain needs love too

Uh yeah I hope I'm doing this right, GN Captain, can either be platonic or romantic!! ^^

Omg I love this idea so much!! I'm sorry it took so long for me to write this😭😭

But this is such a good idea and tbh... this was my genuinely reaction to Mark yelling at the end lmaoo

But thank you so much for the request I hope you enjoy!!

Let it out

Space mark x Gn!reader (not specified if platonic or romactic)

"What did you do?" Marks voice breaks the silence that has been filling the room. His words were quiet, like they just happened to slip through his lips. He speaks again, but this time, much harsher.

"What did you do!" This times his voice is filled with anger and rage, something I am not used to hearing, especially directed towards me. I tear my eyes away from where the wormhole once was, the place my eyes had been glued before. I look at his face and it has an expression I am not used to seeing. He's angry, furious, and he looks at me with a scowl on his face.

"I- Mark I-" I try to form words, but they fail me as my eyes start to water up, invisible to Mark due to the helmet on my head.

"You destroyed everything! I spent an eternity in hell, rebuilding this machine and you threw it all way!" He slowly steps closer as he yells and I try to move away but my feet feel glued to the floor. "I don't know if you're evil or just stupid!" His last words are filled with venom. It feels like daggers are flying out of his lips and stabbing me in the heart. Suddenly my legs feel weak and the tears slide from my eyes and roll down my cheeks. I try to speak but all that escapes is a loud sob. And I break. I break like I was made of glass and just hit me with a bat.

Marks face softens, he stops speaking and his arms slowly drop back down to his sides. He is unsure of what was it he heard. It sounded like a sob but he hadn't made any noise. His cheeks are dry and no tears are escaping from his eyes. Then he notices the Captain. Their legs are visibly shaking and their hands are formed in a ball. Their chest is quickly heaving up and down and not a word is coming from behind their helmet. He slowly raises his hand to rest on their shoulder.

"Captain?" He asks quietly, trying to see if it was them who made the noise. Suddenly the sound of sobs is all that can be heard throughout the quiet room. He doesn't know what to do. He caused this. He shouldn't have yelled at them, they were trying to help...

"Captain, I-" He pauses a loss for words, "I'm sorry..." Quickly the captain moves, so quickly Mark is barely able to see what their doing until it's already done. The captain pulls off their helmet, reveling their messy hair and tear stained face. Mark is shocked, never once has he seen the captain without their helmet. In any universe, every situation, their face had always been hidden. He is just disappointed it was in these terms that he say it.

The captain forces themselves to sit down, their legs feeling feeling too weak to be able to stand. They bring their hand to their face and fully let go. Getting out all the stress, sadness, grief, loneliness, and everything else they've been keeping in. Mark stands above them, unaware of what he should do. Once their crying has started to slow down, the tears don't fall as quickly and their breath is slow and hollow, do they finally meet his eyes, face to face for the first time.

Mark feels tears well in his eyes as they look up at him, cheeks still wet, eyes red and hands shaking still. "Captain... I'm so sorry... I should have never yelled at you.." He finally says, sitting down beside them.

"It's okay, I messed up... lots of times..." They let out a dry laugh. "And I failed.... as a captain.." They head drops downwards.

"What? No you were the best captain, you were brave and strong and pushed through to do what was right... and you saved me... and fixed everything." He rambles, looking over at the captain with a faint smile. They continued to look down, avoiding eye contact. Mark takes this moment to admire their features he had never seen before. Their hair, slightly messy from being kept trapped up in that helmet all this time. Their eyes that are slightly difficult to see at this point from where he is sitting. He sharply inhales before wrapping his arms around them. There is only a brief pause before the captain wraps their arms around him in return.

Mark lets out a soft sigh and one of his gloved hands rest on their head and the other at the middle of their back. They sit in peace, glad that they finally have a minute to breathe, and even more glad that everything is over. Mark goes to pull away but stops when he notices that the captains body is now leaning more heavily on his.

"Captain? Are you sleeping?" They jump a bit before pulling away from him.

"Sorry! It's just been so long since... I've gotten a moment to rest." They admit and Mark just smiles back at them.

"I agree. Once everything goes back to normal, I promise you can sleep as much as you need." He says with a friendly smile.

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

That's the end! I hope you enjoyed it and I'm sorry I'm so bad at endings lmao

Hopefully I can stick with this writing thing :)

[rabbitprintart]

okay I need to get this outta my system because realistically I won't be able to draw this in a while but at least wanna write down my head cannons and au AND I'M DRIVING MYSELF INSANE EVERY NIGHT!!!

Anyways, I've been meaning to make/explore an au where Trigun takes place in my motherland of Tierra Caliente, yes I know it's incredibly self indulgent, but where I live, questions of climate change and agriculture are constant within the community, it's a weeeee bit lawless, and I can see so many opportunities of weaving those ideas together with those of the original Trigun series. I just think the reason Trigun speaks to so many of us Mexicans is for the same reason we have an insane clown culture, or the "laugh now, cry later" attitude. I have never seen 2 anime/characters that embody the Mexican spirit and struggle like fucking Vash the Stampede and Nicholas Wolfwood (if you ignore the DragobBall IP lol). So far the ideas that I have are:

Vash and Knives, and all the plant aliens, are representations of ancestral Mesoamerican culture of having intricate stories about twins, duality, and nature. Really wanna dig into the idea of Vash being some kind off shoot of Quetzalcoatl and Knives of Tezcatlipoca, probably even paint Knives in a more charismatic light because tbh my man has some points and I don't blame him lol. Knives does remind me a lot of the cynical Mexican who has been wronged so much in his life that he can not understand a world that isn't evil therefore sees the only solution the destruction of all, just pure nihilism. It's unfortunately more common than you think, especially in men :{

Really weave in Mesoamerican thought, art, and philosophy with Mexican Catholicism. It will be more obvious through Wolfwood, and it makes a lot of sense in my mind since a lot of Rancho people unknowingly hold onto our native thoughts and customs without realizing, even if it has been repackaged through Catholicism (ex: Dia de los Muertos)

Commentary on the insane chokehold the idea of Family as the supreme value in Mexican people through Knives

Ranchero Wolfwood, El Dark (Darks means Goth in Mexican Spanish slang lol) Vash

OKAY NOW FOR THE ONE THAT ABSOLUTELY IS KILLING ME!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Plants are seen as saints by the average Mexican even if the majority don't know about the plant angels inside, so much so that they are constantly offered milagros and have town celebrations for them, but they all have been slowly exploited and killed by the humans who were meant to protect them due to greed. Vash has a collection of the milagros he has salvaged from all his sister's graves and he ties them into his coat. Knives also does this, but they both do it for different motives, Knives mainly does this is as a reminder for his hatred of humanity, Vash mainly for his love for his people and endearment towards humans for thinking well of them, a reminder that he is not much of a monster as he has been made to believe. I literally made myself so emotional last night because I imagined Wolfwood making a milagro shaped in the Passionate Heart of Christ and offers it to Vash right before he dies LIKE SHUT UP! SHUT THE FUCK UP!!! SHUT UP ME!!!!!! ME VOY A MATAR !!!!! AAHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!

In conclusion : Nightow, you are more Mexican than you think, I'm giving you the beaner pass

*cultural context for the non-Mexicans: Milagros are these tiny, usually silver, metal charms that are sown into the velvet of Mexican Catholic statues/icons as a sign of gratitude, a commitment of lifetime devotion, and appreciation for the idol for helping the individual make their prayer come true. Basically, people go to a saint, angel, etc., pray for them to help them (Most common prayers are to physically heal wounds, help with addictions, grief, have children, etc), and if the prayer is answered (the person is healed, they get their dream partner, have kids, etc), then the figure will be offered a Milagro that takes shape of the miracle (a healed leg, breasts for breast cancer, eyes, hearts, etc) and the devotee will sow it into the idol's clothes or their altar as an affirmation of their power and existence.

[verysium]

what do you read in your spare time? you’re one of the most eloquent users i know, id love to hear how you find the media you consume and what your favorites are

omg ei 😊 welcome back to the inbox! thank you for your sweet words although i'm probably not qualified enough to be considered the full definition of eloquent. i am going to preface this post by saying that i definitely don't read as much as i should, so this list is not going to be comprehensive whatsoever. the last time i even visited an in-person library was like half a decade ago, and since then my spare time has been nonexistent lmao. anyways, here are some of my favorite/most recent reads as listed by author:

POETRY

richard siken: i think siken is already well-known both in the literary world and in whatever booktok deems is popular culture. if you don't already know him though, he is best known for his poetry collection crush, which delves into themes of obsession, gay love, and violent eroticism. i actually read this chapbook unknowingly. as in i was hounding sketchy pdf download sites at 3 AM and saw a man with bloodied lips on the cover and decided to read it. he basically became my summer fever dream after that. the way he juxtaposes images is seamless, smoother than water. only richard siken can talk about violence without making it sound violent. i also enjoyed his other poetry collection war of the foxes, especially "portrait of fryderyk in shifting light." i think light is a common motif throughout most of his poems, and he manipulates it effortlessly. the most recent piece i read from him is "piano lesson." i have nothing left to say that he didn't already say, so i would just recommend reading it for yourself. he is the og big brain when it comes to word play.

ocean vuong: he's unforgettable, and i mean that literally because nobody forgets a person named ocean. time is a mother was exactly what the name suggests: an exploration of grief, loss, and the rewind of time after his mother's death. some of the poems are almost cinematic in quality. "künstlerroman" is my favorite because it feels exactly like watching a video tape in reverse. i think his most famous work is "someday i'll love ocean vuong." it was the first piece i ever read from him, and to this day, it remains my comfort poem.

silas denver melvin: i only recently discovered him through his chapbook grit. i think he's also on tumblr @/sweatermuppet. he writes a lot on the trans experience, and his work gives me a mix of southern gothic and country vibes. would definitely read his other publications if i had the time.

chen chen: one thing about chen chen is that he always comes to devour. my favorite works from him are "self-portrait as so much potential" and "song of the anti-sisyphus." you have to put on your thinking cap for some of his poems, but once you grasp the meaning, everything makes sense all at once.

franny choi: "disaster means without a star" was the entire inspiration behind my first rin fic. i relate to her more personally in regards to the diaspora experience, but her collections are worth reading in general because of the sheer quality.

pages matam: his poem "piñata" was what got me into slam poetry. his work mostly consists of political commentary which i feel is particularly relevant in today's social climate. "on learning america's english" also resonates with people who have encountered the entire losing/learning immigrant tongues experience.

laura lamb brown-lavolie: i've only read one spoken word poem from her, and tbh i only needed to read one. "on this the 100th anniversary of the sinking of the titanic, we reconsider the buoyancy of the human heart" is my two-headed calf poem. one day i will get this tattooed.

brendan constantine: once again, this was the result of me being chronically online coupled with the boredom of an august heat wave. i found "the opposites game" through TED. honestly, i was a bit unsure about it at first, but it's a cute little poem that makes you really delve into the intricacies of craft.

TEEN POETRY & PROSE

yasmeen khan: she could mouth her words onto every square inch of my body, and i would still be coming back for more. ingraining them into flesh is not enough. "movie stars" is by far my favorite work from her. she writes about femininity and womanhood so profoundly. it's tragic, but really i wouldn't have it end any other way.

kaya dierks: her writing is basically middle-of-nowhere small town stoner teenage life but personified. "crushed" is my favorite piece from her. the soundtrack for this work was definitely by ethel cain, and you cannot convince me otherwise.

FICTION

madeline miller: i was first introduced to her when i read the song of achilles. let's just say that book had me nonverbal for the greater half of three months. it was my metaphorical hatchet. i buried it once, and i never want to dig it up again. i read circe a few years later. the first time was during the blue hour at an airport, right between one red-eye flight and another transfer. i don't even remember that experience because i was heavily sleep-deprived. i read it again recently for a literature course, this time for academic analysis. overall, i enjoy the the heroine-centric narrative. typically, i'm a bit wary of novels with heavy feminist themes because they either project their agenda too strongly or they run the risk of misrepresentation. circe doesn't exactly have that problem. it was more about empowerment and less about exercising power over others.

charlotte brontë: as a historical figure, brontë was questionable, but jane eyre most certainly was not. that book rewired my brain, and that is saying something because i have never read any classic by choice. and it is so important to me that jane was the ugliest, plainest girl you could ever imagine. also cus i unironically enjoy angst, and this book was full of dramatic misunderstandings.

yoko ogawa: i love japanese literature, so there is no reason not to include this one here. "a peddler of tears" is one of my favorite short stories. i did not expect the ending at all, but it was welcome. something about violence, body gore, and dismemberment being framed as romantic and semi-erotic just gets to me. sign me the hell up. hotel iris is a hit-or-miss with some people. either you like the fact that art makes you uncomfortable or you shut it down completely. for me, i was alright with exploring some of its darker themes, but read at your own discretion.

NONFICTION

ross gay: he lives up to his name both in optimism and in carefree joy. probably one of my favorite creative nonfiction authors simply based off the accessibility of his writing style. easy to read and understand but still hits you with the full force of a semi-truck. i would recommend his book inciting joy. it's a collection of essays that delve into grief, but since this is ross gay, he makes it seem like a quintessential part of life.

paul kalanithi: sixteen-year-old me was mind blown by him cus before that doctors were shrewish old men with bald spots and sterile coats, not poetic surgeons who dissected the anatomy of word and recited t.s. eliot in the most heart-wrenching way possible. he is everything i want to become in both life and death. when breath becomes air literally does take your breath away.

[krypt-kir]

My class lecture today was about Dante's Inferno. Kind of thinking about YS in this tbh. Not for the hell aspect but the introduction and how poetic and metaphorical it is. Finding yourself in a shitstorm and seeing where you need to be to get your shit together, but facing roadblock after roadblock to the point where you're going backwards and slowly lose hope and give up. And like how Dante finds Virgil, YS finds the RGBFVerse BFs who he, in a way, looks up to them for being more put together than he is. Obviously not a proper parallel but it made me think about it.

Then again Dante acts as a representation of humanity. He goes through the hopelessness everyone feels when we're in a bad place, knocked down over and over again.

To me, YS represents the very real human feeling of being without power outside of the fictional media we write. He lost his source of willpower to keep going consumed by grief and the idea of what he could be in that reflection of himself. Though we as the audience may not have lost something like he did, there's something we as writers lose when we stop creating, and that is the control and containment of our fictional narratives and worlds.

"Why do you not go? Why do you not try to keep going knowing people care for you and I tell you that there's something worth fighting for? Why are you scared when we have your back?"

These are the counters to YS's self-doubts as much as it is for Dante. His fears. His worries. At least that's how I'm interpreting it. The other BFs are trying so hard to convince YS that he is worth helping. He's not a waste of space or air like his mind tells him he is. (Ochre you were so real making that fic btw it hurt so bad.../pos)

At some point, I want to think YS regains his determination.

"I am no longer doubting. I am back on track. I have willpower once again. I am determined to go through with this, and dive into the deepest parts of my trauma and the trauma of others not only to heal what ails my brothers, but to mend my own broken soul."

This would be the healing arc I think. It won't be easy. He'll be knocked down again and again. He might feel like giving up again too.

But right now he has the other BFs who are supporting him, and he is supporting them as well.

There was absolutely no reason for me to connect any of this to Dante's Inferno, but I think just listening to the lecture in class inspired me a lot and I felt like I needed to share even if my interpretation could be wrong.

Not a really serious analysis on it anyway and I don't think the BFs would do a great job at representing Virgil LMAO

[aces-and-angels]

countdown to 2024 @choicesfandomappreciation

deadlines? we don't know her😗💅🏼 so many works to shoutout- so brace yourselves gang- this'll be a long one

now- without further ado- here are some writers that made my year:

🖤@thedistantshoresproject

sending love to the whole team on board who are working tirelessly to finish this magnificent project. i was so excited to read the demo this year! knowing how long the journey has been and reading the updates each week- i realize how weary yall must be and hope that i can convey my gratitude for bringing back our favorite pirates in one awesome sequel 🖤

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🖤@bloodboundsiege

another demo for the books- and another fanmade project that i am rooting for; i personally have only read through finn's demo but i'm already in love with all the characters. plus- who wouldn't be excited for the chance to romance gaius??? there is a ton of lore in op's blog for all the new lis that i 100% recommend to read through. excited to see what's in store in the new year!

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🖤@hashiedraws

the way i ran to play this story when it dropped😭 if yall are fans of ilw- then you may know that one of the artists released this wonderful vn this year. it's a story that keeps on serving 🎾 the artwork is incredible and the accompanying story is an absolute treasure. i was on the floor- in tears- jaw-dropped. trust me- it was an experience. one i recommend yall take too 😊

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🖤 @lovehugsandcandy

the queen of colt- and tbh- one of my literary muses. your writing is such an inspiration to me and having you back on the dash this year for blades was definitely a highlight 🖤 a snippet from one of my favorite fics this year:

read 'bound' here "Of course. We have plenty of time for that... don't we?" “Because you’re not leaving?” He squeezes her hand. “I’m not leaving.”  It’s a whisper more powerful than any rope.

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🖤@jerzwriter

the heart you have is so warm and inviting- and it shows with each work you've shared🖤 i've cherished reading your works for trystan x carolina- picking one to highlight seems cruel but i'll give it a shot lol. their banter/dynamic is so beautifully portrayed and never fails to bring a smile to my face:

read 'tricks and treats' here “There is no Trystan,” he snickered, playfully pulling her close. “Only the Big Bad Wolf..uh.. no.. I mean Grandma! I’m Grandma, trust me.” “Grandma? What big paws you have!” she beamed as he nuzzled into her neck and playfully growled. “The better to paw you with, my dear...” “Well, you can paw me once we get to the party. We’re very late.”

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🖤@theoriginaltortuga

your four part series- 'responsibility, rage, and recent resurrection' was such a good read and deserves some love. it ain't a secret i'm a big ilw fan- and a sucker for bonus scenes. reading a more fleshed out version of connor's eventual turning was *chef's kiss* immaculate- i shamelessly go back to this fic from time to time:

read 'responsibility, rage, and recent resurrection' here Grief and terror had been a part of Connor since the night Devon died. The feelings came and went, but they never left completely and Connor worried that he would never feel peace again. With Devon alive but unconscious, a massacre set for a few days, and the man who’d killed his mother on the loose; those feelings were more overwhelming than ever. Not to mention the anger that had been festering in his chest since his mom was killed. All of it led back to one simple thing: Westchester wasn’t safe. 

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🖤@linkysmommy

mother lincoln- i wanna thank you for blessing me with not only ilw itself but ilw fics (and some other works of yours i've recently had the pleasure of reading😉) though, imma pivot real quick from ilw and actually give some praise to another project of yours- and the reason i downloaded storyloom in the first place- open heart: a toxic situation. what a story full of mystery, romance, and ✨bryce✨ (there are multiple lis to choose from- i just really love bryce lmao)

read this beauty right here

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🖤 @saibug1022

the angst legend- i go to you for the hurt lmaoo. but really- it is a talent to write the way you do and i'm lucky to reap the benefits of reading your work. the time you put into crafting your mcs- making them fully fleshed out blorbos- then giving the most heart-wrenching scenarios to deal with- incredible✨ here's some love for the villain stories out there:

read 'a funeral of faith' here “I had no place in Undermount while humans and orcs treated me like an outsider. I was kidnapped and tortured while my friends and two of the men I loved gave up on me and left me to die. And the other man I loved used and betrayed me for power and disappeared when I still forgave him.”

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🖤 @professor-abeloved

prepare to be adored, admired, and appreciated- your mcs are everything to me. the way you write is so special and uniquely you- and i love your work dearly. i've got your fics seared in my brain- here's one of the many (bc we as a fandom silently agreed that linc angst just hits different):

read 'lincoln's bad day' here “Sorry,” Ro called out for what felt like the nth time with an awkward grimace. “You okay? I can get an ice pack or a salonpas or—” “It’s fine,” Lincoln says, clutching his aching jaw. In some weird way, it’s surprisingly… therapeutic? There’s something about a being confronted with such raw, unimaginable Power that has the capacity to utterly destroy you if it chooses, but instead it’s draping a small, lilac cardigan over your shoulders as it looks you over for bruises. read 'lincoln's bad day' here “Sorry,” Ro called out for what felt like the nth time with an awkward grimace. “You okay? I can get an ice pack or a salonpas or—” “It’s fine,” Lincoln says, clutching his aching jaw. In some weird way, it’s surprisingly… therapeutic? There’s something about a being confronted with such raw, unimaginable Power that has the capacity to utterly destroy you if it chooses, but instead it’s draping a small, lilac cardigan over your shoulders as it looks you over for bruises.

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🖤@mydemonsdrivealimo

bless your beautiful, magnificent brain- atp your hcs are my canon lmaoo. bryce and jensen are so special to me and it's no secret how much love you've poured into them through your work. slowly but surely, i'm getting around to reading all the fics of theirs. the ones i have read were amazing. time to shower praise for your most recent work (also i'm rooting for you- writer's block is a biatch):

read 'halloween' here “Hey, sorry,” Bryce said, giving his waist a quick squeeze before unceremoniously flopping into one of the chairs, the force sending it back enough that Jensen had to pull him closer. “You’re lucky I didn’t lock you out and eat it for you,” Jensen said with a quick wave to the food in front of him, taking a seat in his own chair. “M’fucking starving.” He was already shoveling crab rangoon into his mouth, ignoring the steam coming off of it.

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🖤 @aria-ashryver

a ray of sunshine- you deserve the world and more🥰 one thing on my to-do list for the new year is to finally sit down and read SICSIG. from the snippets i've seen, i know i'll treasure the heck out of it. when i do- i apologize in advance for the person i become lmao (give it up for the poly romance yall)

read 'snow in crimson, starlight in gold' here

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🖤@me

self-love, amirite? reading through old works is either a hit or miss for me lol- but the process of writing has been a welcome journey of mine. from the frantic word vomit to staring at a blinking cursor- it's been a ride. and i'm thankful to everyone above for inspiring me to keep moving forward 🖤

read whatever yall want here

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this list could go on and on and i'm definitely missing some people- but to the writers out there: you are the heartbeat of the fandom and we are lucky to have you 🖤

[carica-ficus]

"Harrow the Ninth"

21/02/2024

Reading progress: 507/507 (100%)

Read through since last update: 157

Didn't think I'd cram the last part into one post, but here we are anyway. These last 150ish pages were... All over the place. In a good way!

Final notes:

Oh, there she is!!! Talk about a monster under the bed.

Ok, but how casual is that scene? I know something like that was coming (I've seen some fanart, but knew too little to know who it was about, just that Harrow and Ianthe would be peeking under the bed), but it's just so normal. I like it. Kinda eerie because it's not presented as scary.

Of course Ianthe didn't see it. Don't worry Harrow, I believe you.

Yeah, ok. It makes sense that Ortus was just fulfilling other to kill Harrow. His reasoning for it just wasn't strong enough. "You're a liability." Just like everyone else.

Oho! Here we go! Epiparodos! (Whatever that means.)

NUNLET??? 🥺🥺 That's such a cute word.

Ok, the lobotomy. Right. Also saw a fanart spoiler for it, totally forgot it was coming. I thought it was gonna happen later on? In any case. Ok. Yup. This happened.

Harrow NOVA. There we go. The other Harrow finally revealed by her full name. Though I applaud Muir, I haven't even noticed we never got her last name. Gorgeous and genius writing, through and through.

HAHAHAHAHAHA love how Harrow did the typical "I am small. Therefore, I will be a quick and murderous machine" but Muir decided to break up the cliché by saying she discovered that at the ripe age of 5. Man, I love this book. And I love Harrow as a character.

"What's that, you egg?"

Dying. 😂

Ok, gotta say, chapter 40 lost me.

I think... I got it? I might need to read the remaining pages for all of this to settle down, but this is much less complicated that I thought it would be.

What is the meaning of love if not sacrificing every single memory of a person in order to save them? 😭

Of course, it was not a dream. That would be too easy. The bubbles make perfect sense.

I know I said Ortus was annoying when quoting the Noniad, but I really like him as a character. And by that I mean how Muir has given him more depth and allowed him to grow. Which also made the scene where he hugs Harrow so impactful. 🖤

Ok, the Ortus thing was unexpected. And I'm excited to learn what it's all about.

But first. The Sleeper.

UGH! I love how considerate Gideon is with Harrow's body. Sure, she's a little awkward in it and puts out a dirty joke or two, but she's just trying to be respectful and useful. Also the way she's so worried over any and all her injuries, even though she knows they'll all heal? So fucking cute.

Protesilaus took Dulcinea in his care when she fell ill. That's so cute. 🥺

Oh, hell yes! Gideon stepped the fuck up. Time for Ianthe to meet her fucking match.

(I love how protective Gideon is ggghhhgghggh)

Man, I missed Gideon so much.

MATTHIAS NONIUS!!!!!!! :O

(Such a cool scene!!!!!)

You know what? After everything that happened, my reaction to finding out Gideon is God's daughter was just "Ok. Cool."

Cue John's corny dad joke. Love it.

Also I wouldn't have guessed they were related based on their eyes. Sure, John's eyes were mentioned multiple times, but they're silver and Gideon's are gold, so I wouldn't have put two and two together just by that. But! It fits. It's foreshadowed. It works. So yeah. Sure. Love it.

I knew it! I knew that he had a cavalier! I knew that he was a Lyctor! Hell yeah!

So much stuff happens at the end. I just kept on reading, without spending much time on commentating. I needed to know what happens and tbh, I have no idea what I just read. But that's okay! It was fun!

Ok, all in all, the book was spectacular. I liked it even more than I did Gideon. I liked how Muir handled Harrow's grief. I liked the reveals, the mysteries, the tension and the stakes. I liked the characters and I liked how Abigail got a lot more page time. I didn't even care about her in the first book, but now I really like her. I liked Ortus too!

Now, I'm still confused... About a few things. Primarily Harrow Nona. So I'll have to read an explanation or teo about it (or you can comment on the post if you'd like to help me out). Did... Harrow Nonangesimus kept watch and narrated over what Nona was doing? As in, she was dissociating from her body after the lobotomy and experiencing everything from a distance? Or was that all Gideon? Because I feel like it wasn't. Gideon's narration style is totally different and clearly comes out at the very end, but idk. I feel like I'm missing something here or that I'm not grasping something ridiculously simple.

Anyway, I'll be reading a little more about it, but yeah. "Harrow" is done, so I'll have to get my hands on Nona! In the meantime I'll be writing out my review. 🖤