#temporary writing tag

[identityarchitect]

Everyone’s on edge when they meet the orc. When she sees them, her eyes widen, and she raises her crossbow at Barry, squinting her eyes at his lich form.

“Who are you?” she says. Barry holds his hands up in front of him. Taako’s still not used to seeing skeletal hands moving. It’s a little weird.

“I know what you’re thinking,” he says, which seems to make her more suspicious, “but I’m not. I promise I’m not. I- I wouldn’t.”

“And why should I trust that?”

“I know about the-” static. They have a short conversation like that, trading scant few coherent words in between swathes of static. Eventually the woman seems to believe him, though, and she looks over at them.

“Killian. Nice to meet you. There’s a guy here who wants to destroy the world. We’re gonna stop him.”

“Great!” Magnus says, exasperated.

“Yeah, this is just our normal schedule. Nine AM, save the world, ten AM, save the world, eleven AM, save the world.” Taako says, sarcastic.

“Twelve PM, brunch with god.” Merle adds. Barry’s laughing. A lot.

"Oh man," he says once he's recovered, wiping away a fake tear from his skull. "You guys have no idea."

[stealingyourbones]

Out of all of the people The Ghost King Phantom expected to relate to, it definitely wasn’t the scrawny red headed photographer of the Daily Planet. Jimmy Olsen has gotten so many temporary superpowers over his time being Superman’s friend. Hell, he once gained a 4th dimensional being’s reality warping abilities when he was given said dimensional being’s powers during a fight. Sure there’s a dozen or so heroes with the same amount of powers he has, but none as suddenly granted to them as a all powerful god that can relate to a teenager.

[lakesparkles]

hii!!! would you be willing to do a little doodle of your nega ramona and gideon interacting? understandable if you don't take requests I'm just in LOVE with your design of her and your au in general!!! feel free to also use this ask to elaborate about the au more instead because id love to hear that too :D

Hi!! :D

Honestly, I wasn't going to draw this request today (I'm afraid I'm drawing Gideon too much lately lmao sorry, he just can't leave my mind). But I got some pretty weird comments on this AU of mine that made me kinda sad... so I kept rereading this ask to cheer me up and I'm very thankful you like her and this AU!! It really means a lot in this moment!

Now, the important part, yes, I take requests and I love this one:

Just a few things make Gideon feel uneasy. She's one of them. Not because he thinks she might be a ghost, but because she looks too similar to Ramona.

And more about the AU:

I would like to say I finally started writing a fanfiction about it and I'm close to finish the first chapter ^^

It'll be seven chapters long and it'll be hard to write ngl, I never wrote something like this before, usually my fics are cute ship things.

I can share the first scene:

Ramona and Gideon - I . . . She decides to leave one last time Or

Ramona remembers the seven reasons that made her fall in love with Gideon

She had that same fantasy every day. As she walked down the halls, running her fingers along the wall, she imagined herself entering her own room. It was satisfying, somehow. She could perfectly see herself opening her wardrobe, taking out the few things that really interested her, putting everything in her bag and simply walking away. In that fantasy, of course, she always smiled. She even laughed. That kind of hysterical and cathartic laughter only present in films. She wanted to imagine how Gideon would react: how long would it be before he realized she wasn't there anymore? Two weeks? And when would he realize that this wasn't just another one of her "famous tantrums"? Two months? Two years? Part of her was almost excited at the prospect of making him furious with such an accomplishment. It would be his turn to take endless turns through the halls, finally using his brain to try to understand what had gone so wrong between them. Maybe he would find out years later. Or perhaps that doubt would eat away at him for decades to come, the bitterness of her image never leaving his mind. And part of her… thought that wasn't realistic. She knew Gideon well enough to know that he would never even consider any mistake on his part, with a mixture of confusion that never ended well when it came to him. Or worst. He wouldn't even care about her lack of presence in that house. Therefore, Ramona released her fingers from the wall, slowly slowing down her steps until she stopped altogether. Then the fantasy ended. Every single time.

[transmasccofee]

[ TW for implied/referenced suicide, dehumanization, and temporary character death ]

this is why you dont talk to kusuke

[funkylilomen]

an AU where Jupiter and Arche share a meal, and nothing bad happens whatsoever

...ignore Arche's expression. they're fine

lyrics from dis song 👇👇

[carlos-tk]

so i have words for the first time in months ‼️ from a 5x01 coda i hoped to get up before the second episode aired but that’s not going to happen so.. have a few sentences and hopefully a full fic in due course

tagged by @heartstringsduet @carlos-in-glasses @liminalmemories21 @strandnreyes 🫶🏼 but also a big thanks to everyone who has been tagging me and sharing their own words for literal months. apologies that i’ve missed so much ❤️‍🩹

Carlos’ eyes flutter closed and then back open, shiny now in a heart-wrenching way. The corner of his lip pulls upwards, a half smile that tries to say ‘I’m okay’, that makes TK ache even more for the real thing.

“I love you,” Carlos repeats again, this time with TK actually awake and lucid, “so much baby.”

TK’s eyes sparkle in the low light of the room, the moonlight catching the wet tears that swell in direct reflection of Carlos’ own.

“I love you too” he professes, lets his thumb trace the soft pink lips of his husband, before his thumb falls away and his mouth takes its place, lips pressing together in perfect synchronicity.

His warm tongue traces the seam of Carlos’ lips, and waits for permission to be let inside. Carlos enjoys the familiar feeling of building TK’s anticipation, makes him wait longer than he should before he smiles and opens his month to gently welcome the intrusion– TK’s tongue hungrily sliding against his husbands in an instant.

The kiss is languid, soft and unhurried– as though time exists in a vacuum when they’re together like this, bodies entwined between the safe space of cotton sheets and a feathered duvet.

Carlos sighs deeply, the feeling of a weight being lifted from his chest with every clink of their teeth and exchange of saliva, TK’s and his breaths merging to become one singular life force.

open tag since i’m so late but also some tags for @cold-blooded-jelly-doughnut and @alrightbuckaroo ❤️‍🔥

[snickerdoodlles]

for the wip game: timeloop 👀

ajkfjd so to my great shame, i have like. 3 asks in my inbox for this fic that i forgot to answer and then felt weird about answering, so here's to finally talking about this AU i dearly love in public 😂❤

(i will probably respond to the other asks...eventually, i'm determined to, just. sorry friends, time doesn't exist at snickerdoodlles (dot) tunglr (dot) com)

OKAY SO. timeloop 👀

as usual, my victim is Kim ❤ it happens...very, very vaguely, sometime after ep7 but before any of the Tawan stuff occurs, so Kim's still deep in his snooping era. so when Kim wakes up and realizes he's in a timeloop, his first thought isn't "how the fuck do i get out of this?!" it's "oh fuck yes, no consequences!"

and so begins Kim's consequence free snooping era! who needs awkward flirting when he can just ask Chay any question he wants? who needs caution when trashing Korn's study it won't stick past today? who needs to care what anyone thinks of him when everything but his memories are reset?

except he pushes too many questions on Chay one loop and Chay looks so confused and upset and hurt the guilt lingers and festers far beyond any loop reset. it doesn't matter Chay doesn't remember, Kim mistreated his friend. Kim knows what it's like to hurt Chay, knows he can hurt Chay, knows just how easy it is to do. knows he can't make up for the pain because Chay doesn't remember, because there's nothing to forgive except the hurt only he knows.

it's not just his personal relationships either. Kim pushes too far with Korn and Big takes a bullet for him. and. the thing is. it's one thing to know there are people paid to die for you. it's one thing to know Big specifically will die for him. it's even one thing to accept the people who have died for him, to shrug off those deaths the way he's had no choice but to learn. but it's very different to know someone who has died for you, to watch them bleed out for you, and then face them alive and whole again the next day. to suddenly reconcile just what and how much your choices can strip away from someone else. to have killed someone with your own recklessness and have to face them, fine and oblivious, again and again thereafter.

turns out, timeloops have every consequence and more when you're a constantly guilt-stricken ball of angst, and Kim is going to cry so! much!

[ WIP game ]

[cryptidm0ths]

Vvvvvv messy doodles of magical girl au

[letmetellyouaboutmyfeels]

So yeah. This happened.

Listen. Sometimes you're a nerd who sees a really fun movie and during that really fun movie you see a man so beautiful you black out and he has really great chemistry with an absolute mess of a bard and before you can blink, you're 20k+ deep in a fic. You know how it is.

Title: Sunlight is a Kind of Burning

Rating: E

Pairing: Edgin Darvis/Xenk Yendar

Words: 23,475

Summary:

Ed's excited to get his life back on track in the wake of saving Neverwinter. He's less excited at how a certain paladin keeps popping up everywhere he goes.

Except for how he's starting to miss the guy when he's not around.

Yeah, let's not think about that too hard.

[hidey-writes]

six sentence sunday

Zheng Bei says, almost conversational, his eyes fixed on his fingers twisting themselves into knots between his knees, "I thought you were mad at me." He makes an aborted motion, stopped too fast for Gu Yiran to tell what it was going to be, only that Zheng Bei had stopped it, and says, less conversationally, "After that phone call, I thought for sure I would find your body instead of you." Gu Yiran closes his eyes, lets his head drop hard enough he feels the strain of it in his neck. He's not stupid. He knows what Zheng Bei is saying to him, because he can remember sitting just like this, quiet and straining and ultimately useless, on the cot beside Zheng Bei on the anniversary of Lele's death, listening to Zheng Bei say, Some things are just meant for me to carry. Gu Yiran lifts his head and says, "I'm alive," into the stretching silence, and watches Zheng Bei's hands go still beside him.

still slooooooowly chipping away at this fic. i remember as a kid being baffled by writers being like "oh i didn't know what it was about until i wrote it" in a "how could you write it then?" kind of way. well baby!hidey, i sure understand it now. now i sure can write so much with no idea of where i'm going with it at all

[ectonurites]

Uhhhh very late miwip wednesday? it is thursday.

I've had this au—Will as Robin, El as Batgirl, Mike as Spoiler + a few more Hawkins characters as Bats but I'll leave the rest a mystery for now—rattling around in my brain for like a week, and I don't know if I'll ever actually write out the full longfic idea I have for it, but I'll at least post snippets and some doodles 👍

Text under the cut if the images are hard to read hehe:

—

“I know I did it to you when we first met,” the sound of boots hitting the rooftop echoes behind him, “But it’s really not proper vigilante etiquette to take off someone else’s mask.” 

Mike whips around to face him—Robin, The Boy Wonder. While he’s figured out who the new Batgirl is, he hasn’t got a clue about this guy. Unless maybe it’s not just El—maybe all the Bats are connected to the lab? Robin could be a number, too.

He stares at the other boy, lost in thought, not sure what to say. 

When it must fully register that his comment isn’t getting a response, Robin shrugs and retracts his grapple, clicking it into place on his utility belt as he steps closer out of the shadows.

Mike quickly puts his mask back on, just for something to do with his hands, something to interrupt his gawking at least for a second. When he looks again, there’s now a layer between them—flimsy blue fabric that makes it a little less clear that he’s still staring. 

But how could he not? The two of them have only really met twice—when Robin had tackled him not realizing The Spoiler is a new hero not a villain, and when Robin had come to his window the following night telling him to hang up his cape. So really, this is the first time Mike can stop and take him in without some sense of urgency bleeding into the situation. The first time he can just… look.

His mask is a deep green leather molded into a sort of beak, and despite leaving a decent amount of his face uncovered, it conceals what could really be identifying—his eyes, his nose, parts of his cheeks. His warm smile is visible though, and Mike can’t help that his eyes are drawn to it. It’s just the part of his face I can see, he tells himself, but maybe that’s not the only reason. 

Robin runs a gloved hand through his gelled-back hair, a chestnut brown that Mike bets would glisten in sunlight. But Robin isn’t someone you see during the day. Bats only come out at night in Hawkins, even ones who wear bright colors. Red, yellow, and green—he’s like a traffic light.

Only now while glancing up and down as he crosses the rooftop, does Mike really register how small a guy Robin is, noticeably shorter than Mike himself. But regardless, he still moves with confidence, it makes his presence seem larger somehow—wise beyond his years.

[anomaly-beans]

Rejoice! New fic be upon ye!

[the-letterbox-archives]

hiatus announcement

hello, all! i wanted to give notice that into the near future, the archives will be temporarily inactive so i can finish up where i'm up to in discovering more chapters of current stories (and uncovering new ones!), and do other maintenance to make the archives a bit better! i'm getting a bit bogged down with all the content i need to finish, but i promise to get the archives up and running again in a timely manner! i can't give a realistic estimate right now, but i won't be long!

in the meantime, some posts will be revised, having their tags altered or links changed, etc. you'll know the archives is up and running again when there's a shiny new masterpost and a lot of wip content beginning to upload!

[byanyan]

oughughhguh chatting w/ moon about potential muse dynamics and making myself cry as i realize that byan, for all they hated being stuck with foster families, loved having younger siblings in their lives. they LOVE being the coolest person in the world to someone who's younger than them, and honestly?? they love looking after younger kids, too.

also crying bc i'm realizing they especially loved having younger sisters, in part bc it was the perfect excuse to do & enjoy things that were considered "girly" or otherwise "too feminine" when they were less sure of & less comfortable in their gender and/or when the environment wasn't particularly accepting of an amab kid loving pink & glitter & wanting to wear skirts

[memento-morri-writes]

I've been thinking a lot about how Rook's reunion with his former mentor, Zara, is going to go, and since I can't predict what the DM is going to have her do or say, I can only dwell on what I know is going to happen. Which happens to include taking off the illusion ring that's been hiding his injuries from her. So have a snippet of the description I have planned for that moment:

tw for description of (mostly healed) injuries

He hesitates, twisting a ring on his finger. Looking at it more closely, she can tell it’s very finely crafted, and must have been very expensive. A large emerald is set into the band. Rook sighs, and pulls the ring off his finger in one quick motion.  Immediately she’s struck by the difference in his appearance as the illusion melts away. He looks awful. His warm, healthy skin fades to a dull and sickly grey. There’s huge bags under his deeply sunken eyes, and his cheeks are hollowed, as though they have been carved out by an overeager sculptor. He looks like he’s recently risen from the grave.  While he was thin before, now she can see his ribs under the skin, and his collarbones are exaggeratedly pronounce. Thin white lines left by dozens upon dozens of recently healed cuts are scattered across his body. On top of that, faded bruises cover most of his visible skin, a mottled mosaic of purple and yellow. They’re clearly days, maybe weeks old, and she can only begin to imagine what they must have looked like when fresh. Bandages are barely visible under his shirt, wrapping around his back, hinting at even more injuries.

[orbital-inclination]

ops i forgot to wtore the characters, pfff. So the purple letter was for nightmare (d) and the orange one for dream (o)

Prompt: D. Subtle kindnesses. For Nightmare O. The stars or space. For Dream  WC: 543

-------

Dream shoots to his feet. A golden bow manifests in his hands almost as quickly, an arrow of light notched between two gloved fingers. But he doesn’t lift his bow. He only regards his brother with startled, wide sockets.

Nightmare stops too, but if he is startled it’s only visible for a split second. A blink and you miss it moment Dream only catches because he has trained himself to read his brother’s moods quickly. A split second is all it takes, sometimes. If Dream wants to protect anyone at all, and to survive himself, he needs to react fast.

And now the quiet has gone on too long and neither of them have said a word or moved. Dream realizes his brother is staring and Dream is quick to blink and wipe his face with his palm. “W-what are you doing here, Nightmare?”

Nightmare’s eye socket narrows, marginally, but blessedly, he looks away. To the north facing garden fence. Dream takes a breath and accepts it for what it is: a moment granted to compose himself.  

The garden overlooks a cliff that free falls into the starry black and blue expanse of space. A kaleidoscope of stars, distant planets and flaring meteors streak the sky in a dazzling array of color and light. And most breathtaking of all, a ribbon of light dances a slow waltz across the horizon. 

Dream picked Outertale for a reason. It was easy to get lost in the star speckled plain, to find some sense of peace. But he should’ve known better. Outertale was a popular place. Even its quiet, least visited garden attracted attention. 

“My business here is none of your concern,” Nightmare says at least, as distant and as cold the last time they spoke. “But how strange it is to find you in this state. Tell me, dear brother, who betrayed you this time?”

Dream flinches. The seething bitterness in his brother’s tone stings like needles. “I don’t want to fight you, Nightmare.”

He will stand his ground if he has to. He is tired, he is heart-sore but he must live. He must survive this too. 

And yet… for the first time in a long while, Nightmare does not respond in the way he expects. “Nor do I.”

“Night…?”

“Do not mistake this for mercy!” Nightmare snaps. Dream’s mouth clicks shut. “I will not fight you in this pitiful state. You claim to be my brother? Then act like it!”

He turns on his heel, and walks away. It’s not a show of trust. It’s a show of confidence. He knows Dream would never attack him from behind without good reason. 

Dream holds himself upright until his brother is gone from view, and then his legs buckle underneath him and he collapses on the park bench as his bow shatters into a thousand tiny shards of light and dissipates. 

It may not seem like it to anyone else, and Nightmare himself might deny until the day the multiverse turns to dust, but… 

Dream smiled, a small shaky thing, because, coming from his brother? That was a show of kindness. That was mercy.

Despite everything he claimed… Nightmare could still be kind. And with that thought came a new breath of Hope.