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alearicci · 9 months

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second chapter. max verstappen x oc

"I'm tired. I'm fucking tired, Ashlyn," Max said, sitting down on the bed next to the his girlfriend. There was a note of impotence in his voice. Did he think a few years ago that it would be so difficult for him to win one race after another? That it would be so hard. And it's not even about the strength of rivals or a bad car. It's all about people. No matter how hard he tried to show that they had no effect on him, his heart ached unpleasantly from everything that awaited him every day. Fame sometimes has a bad effect on the humanity inside you. You try to be strong, show the best results, fight honestly for the title... and you find yourself face to face with people . There are those to whom Max is insanely grateful - his fans always support him, arrange various events, draw posters of support. Recently he heard a song on the street, a very funny song. There was something like that tu-tu-tu-tu Max Verstappen. He still sometimes hums this melody to himself, as if supporting himself. But there are others. Aren't they called haters? Such people whistle after you, write unpleasant comments. "What a blessing that Max didn't get on the podium. We need to celebrate this, dudes", "Poor Max. It serves you right", "I wish you were eliminated in the first round." At first it seriously upset him, but now he just laughs and thinks how pathetic they are. Stupid idiots who were offended that he overtook their favorite team by car, for which they had been rooting almost since childhood. Such people don't even stand next to him. Someone even called him a villain. Max once laughed and said, "Well, then I'm the most beautiful villain in the world." He didn't consider himself evil. Only sometimes he got angry if his rivals couldn't see beyond their own noses or when he made a stupid mistake. Monster Max, oh my God, save yourself. If you don't know personally, then don't judge publicly. Since childhood, he dreamed of becoming a Formula 1 racer. He wanted to win, to drive at great speed, to overtake rivals. He did everything possible and impossible to get behind the wheel of a racing car. And his dream came true. Thanks to perseverance and the desire to act. He was considered a young talent, a Red Bull star. Great hopes were pinned on him. And he justified them. Became the best. He showed everyone his trademark smile from time to time. He was turning into a robot. Only his family and girlfriend brought him back to life. Max met Ashlyn Skyler at a party he attended at a friend's request. He immediately singled her out from the rest. Her smile stunned him. A few days later, he decided to write to her on Instagram and arranged a meeting. And it so happened that she was with him almost from the very beginning of his career in Formula 1. She was with him for better and for worse. She was always there, gave love and tenderness, was present at every race and watched the car with the number 33, and later 1, with a rapid heartbeat. She watched her beloved. She rejoiced at every victory and podium, she cried because of every failure and every defeat. And now, having heard a rare confession from the mouth of a racer, she is trying to cope with herself and not cry. She loved this man and felt very sorry for him. And he doesn't like self-pity. The man looks at her for a few more seconds, and then quickly takes off his T-shirt and settles on his beloved's chest. He hugs her tightly with his big arms and nuzzles her neck, inhaling her native scent. When Max lies down on her, Skyler does a little head massage, trying to relieve tension. She kisses him on the forehead and continues stroking his hair.

"It's all right, baby. We'll manage. There are two free days ahead, and then you will have to return to training. I'm here, remember that.

- I love you very much.

- I love you even more.

- That's not true. I love you more. And don't argue with me.

- I'm terribly scared. What are you going to do to me, Your Majesty?

- Mmm.

Max smiles slyly and pulls away a little. He puts one hand on Ash's soft cheek and pulls her closer. He touches his lips to hers, kissing her gently. How many kisses there have been over the years of their relationship, but there has never been such a kiss yet. In that kiss there was all the pain, all the love and all the desire to be with each other. They loved each other and continued to be close, no matter what. They enjoyed every day spent with each other. They were happy to be together. And no one could make them think differently. Max loved Ashlyn, Ashlyn loved Max. They went through all the difficulties together. Finally breaking away from such sweet lips, Verstappen lies down again in the place where he was quite recently. He is silent and enjoys the warmth coming from the girl. The warmth of the house. Ashlyn was the whole world to him, and he wanted to keep that world. Therefore, at first Max did not want to advertise their relationship, he met Ashlyn secretly. He was afraid that the bad words would reach her. But about two years ago, they appeared together at a party on the occasion of Max's victory at the annual competition. Since then, they have not hidden that they are dating, and Ashlin is part of that limited circle of people who are allowed to see the rider himself before the race.

- Do you remember that we have to go for an interview tomorrow?

- Max... "We"?

- Damn, didn't I tell you? Sorry, baby. We were invited to some show where we will talk about you and me, within reasonable limits, of course. If you don't mind, I'll cancel it.

- Okay, Max, I agree. Only then you will need to choose some suitable outfit for you.

- The clothes that suit me are a red bull jumpsuit. Will you wear this?

- No, I'll go in my house clothes. I just have a T-shirt with your image on it.

- Oh, no, girl. Let's put on our robes. The presenters won't mind much, will they?

- I think, nevertheless, they will object.

- OK. Then you'll have to dress up in a suit.

- Classic suits suit you like hell.

- And the dresses suit you very well.

- Really?

- Yes. Especially the one I took off you last night.

- Shh, Max.

- Not shhh. You'll definitely be better off without him ;)

#f1 #f1 2023 #f1 fandom #f1 fanfic #f1 imagine #formula 1 #formula one #max verstappen #oneshot #my fic #super max #red bull racing #max verstappen fic #max verstappen x oc #youremaxverstappengf

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kpop-stories-21 · 6 months

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Duty | Prelude: Kyungshi

Group: SuperM

Pairing: ??? x Fem!OC

Word Count: 439

Rating: 18-21+

Genres, Tropes, & AUs: Non-Idol AU, Secret Agent/Spy AU, Good vs Evil, Colleagues to Lovers, Angst

Content & Trigger Warnings: Agent!Reader, Agent!SuperM, kpop companies as agent companies, mentions of past death, violence, guns, blood, death, murder

Summary: Kyungshi finishes an assignment and receives news that sets everything in motion

General tags: @kpop---scenarios @jeonrose @skittlez-area512 @mybiasisexo @biaswreckingfics @anyamaris @liliesofdreamsskz @rdiamond2727 @naturalogre @bxffietheblxxdy

If you want to be added to my taglist, click here

Network pings: @cacaokpop-fics | @kdiarynet | @cultofdionysusnet

MDNI banner and support banner courtesy of @cafekitsune

Masterlist | Main Masterlist

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Jun Kyungshi exhaled softly as she tiptoed through the darkened car park, taking care not to trip while still keeping an eye on her target.

The man she followed was 27-year-old Kim Yugyeom, a former JYP agent. Yugyeom, along with the rest of his agent group GOT7, had gone rouge a few months earlier. The seven men had then split up, taking on solo missions as assassins, bounty hunters, and other similar dirty jobs.

Yugyeom's current occupation was that of a "janitor" for a local gang; that is, he cleaned up loose ends by bribing people in power and killing allies who were likely to spill their secrets.

His most recent job had been securing the death of Taeyeon, a solo agent working undercover for SM, the very agency that Kyungshi was under. Kyungshi had been a close friend of the older woman, and was devastated to hear of her death. The Boss had not objected to Kyungshi going after Yugyeom, so there she was.

Yugyeom froze suddenly, and Kyungshi cursed mentally as he began speaking to someone through what was obviously an earpiece. A quick glance at her surroundings showed a single security camera that was fixed on her. Damnit, how could I have been so careless?! She berated herself.

Deciding to act while she still had some element of surprise, she stood to her feet and leapt forward, clearing the large Volvo in front of her in one smooth motion. Out of its holster came her beloved .32 mm Glock, a silencer attached to the barrel. She lined up her shot and fired quickly.

BANG! BANG! BANG!

Three shots echoed through the silent night air. Yugyeom turned, gazing at Kyungshi in shock, and for a moment she feared that she had missed. But then she saw the rapidly growing patches of crimson that stained his white button-up, and she allowed herself a small smile as the older man crumpled to the ground without a word.

She fired off a fourth shot, destroying the camera that had followed her movements before it could record her face. Then she climbed into her own black BMW and sped away from the scene.

As she drove, she switched on her own earpiece and spoke. "Agent Jun reporting mission accomplished."

The static-laced voice of her friend Selgui responded immediately. "Good work Agent Jun. The Boss has summoned you to headquarters, so you'd best clean up and head straight there."

Kyungshi frowned. Usually the boss only called on agents when something bad happened. "What happened Selgui?"

Selgui's voice was soft and sad as she replied "Hybe has struck again."

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#cultofdionysusnet #kdiarynet #cacaokpop #sandsofirenet #superm #superm x oc #superm angst #maturefanfic #18-21+#au #fanfic

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ingloriousmuses · 1 year

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An introduction to the muses:

— Vivian Kennedy, Inglourious Basterds. Known as the Lady Basterd, she is like a sister to the Basterds—- but don’t let her pretty face fool you. With sixty-seven scalps under her belt and a knife sharpened and poised for the sixty-eighth, she works to bring an end to the war, and glory to her brothers-in-arms.

— Tessa Nashton, The Green Hornet. Tessa is a socialite who finds herself entangled in the crime of her beloved city, and, finding herself in a serious bind that threatens her reputation, turns to none other than Benjamin Chudnofsky to eliminate the problem and clear her name.

— Tahlia Leigh, Water for Elephants. The Benzini Bros. Songbird is a singer with a heart of gold, and eyes only for August Rosenbluth, the recently divorced ringmaster who’s working to rebuild his circus and his life from disaster. She is a talented performer and a gentle soul, and, perhaps, the key to saving the circus from failure. (Bonus: I have an individual roleplay account for her! @benzinis-songbird . But I also write her here.)

— Delilah Raine, Django Unchained/Dead for a Dollar. The wife of an abusive, high-class man, Delilah lives a life of deception: by day she plays the role of a happy wife, and by night she cries herself to sleep while her husband drinks and curses. It is not until a bounty hunter rides into town that she begins to see hope —- and perhaps, a chance at true love.

— Stella, Epic. Stella was once a trusted servant of Queen Tara, before her death. In her grief, Stella swore to get revenge on those who killed the beloved queen. Her attempt at revenge was thwarted, and she was captured by Boggans, given to their warlord Mandrake as a gift. He had just lost a son, and yearned for an heir to his kingdom—- when he saw Stella brought before him, a recognizable member of the Queen’s handmaidens, a plan quickly formed.

— Matilda “Tilda” Leth, Spectre/No Time to Die. Tilda is the personal assistant-turned-lover of Ernst Stavro Blofeld, head of Spectre. As the keeper of many of his secrets, she finds herself tangled deeply in Spectre’s web. . . and soon finds herself carrying a secret of her own.

— Eleanora Sandvoort, Tulip Fever. Eleanora is the third wife and last great love of Cornelis Sandvoort. A dedicated and loving woman, she wants nothing more than to fill his quiet home with their children. Cornelis desires a legacy, and she’s prepared to give it to him.

— Lorraine Blight, Downsizing. Lorraine downsized with nothing left to lose. She worked a dead-end job; she didn’t have friends, and didn’t have a partner. Downsizing was a chance to start over, to perhaps move forward in life, and moving into a complex with lots of interesting people — including a certain Serbian playboy — gave her hope for everything she had yearned for.

— Ophelia Rom, Alita: Battle Angel. An ex-Zalemite who left to escape an abusive relationship, Ophelia is kept alive by technology on the back and base of her skull. She is very reclusive and withdrawn, but when she finds herself in need of repairs, turns to the well-loved Dr. Dyson Ido for help.

— Evelyn Warner, Most Dangerous Game. Little is known about Evelyn —- if that’s even her real name; nobody knows for sure. She’s a part of the Tiro Fund, and works alongside Miles and his crew to put on successful hunts all around the world. Her talent for theatrics makes her a valuable asset to the sport.

— Evangeline Rush, The Consultant. Evangeline’s job as a personal assistant is a difficult one, but with such an enigmatic and charming new boss as Regus Patoff, she finds coming to work gets a little more interesting each day. She begins to learn more about the man behind the name, and finds herself enamored with him.

— OC FOR GUILLERMO DEL TORO’S PINOCCHIO COMING SOON !

— OC FOR THE PORTABLE DOOR COMING SOON !

— OC FOR KOPFSTAND COMING SOON !

#oc: vivian kennedy.#oc: tessa nashton.#oc: tahlia leigh rosenbluth.#oc: delilah raine.#oc: stella.#oc: matilda leth blofeld.#oc: eleanora sandvoort.#oc: lorraine blight.#oc: ophelia rom.#oc: evelyn warner.#oc: evangeline rush.#inglorious introductions.#inglorious writes #; ooc tag tbd.

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atripthroughthestars · 9 months

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Hidden Side

Dan Heng (IL) X Poppy (OC)

Warnings -> SPOILERS for the 1.2 Version of the Trailblaze Mission (Even Immortality Ends)

Poppy thought she knew what fear was.

She’s felt fear numerous times before. She felt it when she first appeared on the Express with no idea of how she got there. She felt it when one of the train’s passengers tried to leave thinking it would make her feel more comfortable. She felt it most recently while saving Jarilo-VI with her companions.

But no prior experience could have prepared her for the way ice crawled up her veins, for the way her heart dropped so far into her stomach it disappeared completely. She’s never experienced a full shut down of her mind, or all the air leaving her lungs and burning her throat on the way out.

This, was pure terror.

Dan Heng doubled over, somehow still standing. The bottom of Cloud-Piercer’s staff was braced on the ground, the weapon becoming a support tool to keep him steady. His chest heaved, pained breaths escaped him…

…and the opposing sword had pierced through his right shoulder so deeply, the hilt was almost touching his chest.

Shock released Poppy from its grasp and her jaw fell open with a silent scream of anguish. The restraints binding her arms and ankles suddenly felt tighter as she thrashed, but before she even had a chance to try and break free, something pushed her over and a a heeled shoe pressed into her back.

“Calm down. Bladie didn’t kill him.” A nonchalant, velvety voice came from above.

Poppy turned her head, vision blurred with tears, and glared up at Kafka with more rage than she’d ever felt before. Despite being pinned down, desperation pushed her to continue trying to break free.

‘Dan Heng!’ Her mental voice shouted, terror seizing her again as the man went limp on his feet. ‘Dan Heng!’

At first she thought it was her tears, but very quickly she realized the water rising in her vision wasn’t of her own making. Torrents of water rose from the ocean, swallowing Dan Heng in a sphere and pulling him high above the ground. A serpent made of water shot out of the sphere, turned in the sky and plunged back down. The dark figure inside started to glow with a light so blinding, Poppy had no choice but to close her eyes and look away.

Blade was saying something, but Poppy could only make out bits and pieces over the roaring current. “Traitor… criminal… High Elder… Imbibitor Lunae.”

The light died out and Poppy returned her gaze where Dan Heng should have been. Except only, the man she found was no longer encased in water, but standing atop a white lotus. She didn’t recognize the clothing, the pointed ears or the horns protruding from the man’s head, but those eyes… she’d know those eyes anywhere. Those were Dan Heng’s eyes.

Yet nothing about his aura was familiar to her senses. He felt older. Wiser. More powerful. Her instincts were doubting her eyes and Poppy was left to wonder if this man with dragon horns was really her beloved Dan Heng, or if some other being has taken over his body and claimed it as their own.

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

After what felt like an eternity, the fighting ceased and the tension settled. Partly due to Kafka’s interference, and partly due to the arrival of a man with white hair and a woman with a long scar running across her nose and right cheek. The man, whom the young boy with golden hair called “General”, carried a kind and authoritative aura. The woman standing next to him, in comparison, was much colder and reminded Poppy of a cat waiting to pounce at the first sudden movement.

The general gave the Stellaron Hunters a pardon, and after they departed, he turned his attention to Dan Heng. “It has been a long time… old friend.”

Dan Heng huffed in annoyance and averted his gaze. “I’m not him.”

“Mm… I’m sorry.” Then, his golden eye settled on the figure peeking out from behind the only tree growing on the platform. “And who might this be?”

Under the sudden attention of the General, the woman, and the boy at his side, Poppy shrunk back further. She felt a little pathetic cowering behind a tree, but it’s deep humming was comforting and after everything that’s happened since the Stellaron Hunters abducted her from the Express, she was nearing a breaking point. For someone so cautious, new faces tended to be overwhelming, and she’s seen enough new faces in the last thirty minutes to last long while. Even the one face she recognized felt new to her.

“Her name is Poppy. She’s with the Express.” Dan Heng explained, eyes focused on her despite talking to Jing Yuan. “She was on the train when I left. I suspect the Stellaron Hunters have something to do with her appearance here.”

The woman’s eyes narrowed and she crossed her arms. “You’re sure there’s no possibility she would have infiltrated on her own accord?”

“She wouldn’t.” He replied quickly and firmly. “She can’t speak, and she’s too cautious to go anywhere unfamiliar on her own. She didn’t come here voluntarily.”

Jing Yuan raised a hand. “There’s no need, Bella. I believe him.”

The woman crossed her arms and dropped it.

The general offered him a kind smile. “Given how frightened she looks, I think it would be best if you take a few minutes to talk with her. When you both are ready, why don’t we all head to Scalegorge Waterscape together and reunite you with your Express friends?”

Dan Heng studied him for a moment, but didn’t offer a reply. His priorities were redirected, and with a small breath, he approached the tree hiding his partner. “Poppy?”

The left half of her face peaked out from behind the thick trunk, cheeks flushed red and her vermillion eye wavering with uncertainty. Dan Heng tried not to let it get to him - Nymphs are creatures of caution who relied heavily on the inner voice of their instincts. Poppy is incredibly sensitive to her surroundings, and he could only imagine what her senses have been picking up on since her arrival.

“Poppy, it’s me.” He said, calmly and quietly. “I’m not…” A pained look flashed across his face. “I’m still Dan Heng.”

Poppy’s heart sped up. His voice was the same one she’s always known, one that never failed to wrap her in a warm blanket and soothe the worries that often followed her outside the safety of the Express. Though her instincts were doubting what her heart already knew, she fought with her nerves and reached for him.

Dan Heng took her wrist with a gentleness she knew well and guided her hand to his chest, pressing her palm flat over his heart. While still holding her wrist, his other hand lifted to cover the back of hers, keeping it in place. “Go ahead. Read my heart.”

Poppy searched his eyes for hesitancy but all she found was determination and encouragement. Taking a breath, she closed her eyes, focused on the warmth beneath her palm, and started to trace the line of his memories backwards. His transformation, the journey that led him here, she kept following the thread until she came to a scene she recognized.

“I can’t bring you with me this time, Poppy. That man is too dangerous.”

Looking even more worried, she grabbed my hand and lifted it to her cheek, nuzzling into my palm. Her pulse was hammering against my ring and pinky fingers.

“I’ll make sure everyone comes back safely, but the safest place for you is here.” Guiding her closer, I rested my forehead against hers. “Please, wait here for my return.”

Having seen enough, Poppy pulled herself out until the sounds of the world were clear to her again. Opening her eyes, she looked up at Dan Heng and wiggled her hand free so she could cup his cheek and trace the red mark beneath his eye.

His chest collapsed with a relieved sigh as he melted into her touch. “I’m right here.”

There will be time to explain everything later, but for now, he had to focus on keeping Poppy and his friends safe from the danger coming their way.

#honkai star rail #x oc #hsr dan heng #dan heng

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chaotic-minds-think-alike · 9 months

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Sitting here with a lot of ideas in my head to draw.. I wanna do a doodle page of a friend’s oc or doodle my adventures as the parasite slugcat in rw.. I need to post more rw tbh..

I looove the parasite slugcat beloved; my most recent adventure was going thru drainage to find the lush mire gate and I got to experience what it’s like to be some creatures since the new update. Centis are completely blind and can hear things (your screen turns black and you see things with a gold outline, creatures/objects will be very faintly brighter than the background though, and you can only see connections/dens when you’re close) which was a pain in the ass but I had to blend in for a bit because I walked into a room full of centis (9 of them). I accidentally drowned that centi and instead took a cyan as my host which thank god they swim a bit better. After running around blindly I did get caught in a point I had to leave the cyan and haul it’s body with me underwater which was kinda sad with the music.. but eventually I found the lush mire gate and explored a tad. God it’s beautiful,,,

But the worst part is I save in the first shelter and my game gets that stupid unity/rw engine crash and I fear I have to go all the way back there again… I don’t rlly have drainage mapped in my head so doing this will probably take just as long as before

#thunderposting i guess #rainworld

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littlemisswaltz · 2 years

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an introduction to my ocs :

the Christoph Waltz movies/TV edition .

Feel free to ask me anything you’d like about them!

— OC FOR GUILLERMO DEL TORO’S PINOCCHIO COMING SOON !

— OC FOR THE PORTABLE DOOR COMING SOON !

— OC FOR KOPFSTAND COMING SOON !

#my ocs #my writing #tags tbd

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viciouslyfilthy · 4 months

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Joy and Prosperity.

((What started off as a small dash comm. ic as Sün turned into a whole ass mini OC interaction djdjd enjoy some new year angst (?) Writing with everyone's favourite old man group !! Happy New Year 🐀🐀))

•

"It's my... hmm.. what a human would call birthday~ and I've been away far too long from my beloved, loyal guardians and defenders of my flock~" the Summer spirit cheerfully declared as he stomped into view.

The gang's all here! The other six sins sat by a long table, within what seemed to be a cave-like structure; it's 'walls' were littered with human skulls and overall remains, barely lit by torches some of Sün's cult members had set up.

Claude shifted nervously in his seat: they were deep within the Catacombs of Paris. He hated this place. It reeked of death and dread.

"Bring me a glass of water! Immédiatement! (Immediately!)" The aristocrat demanded as he looked over from his seat to where some members of the flock were located, hooded figures hidden within a tunnel entrance, watching from afar curiously.

"With all due respect, My Lord, if we want to get specific- this date of the year would be according to the Gregorian Calendar." Freddy spoke up, his emerald green eyes watching as a sheepish, hooded follower brought Claude his requested drink- which he pompously snatched away from the person's gentle grasp, causing them to flinch and quickly retreating back to where they belonged. Far from the table.

The personification of Wrath continued, "There are many, many different calendars depending on time periods, cultures- old and recent... that mark different dates of when the 'world' would have 'started', in a way. You understand." He said, before Eden quickly chipped in:

"Y-yes! He's right!"

"And even with our oldest recorded calendar... the mesolithic arrangement, dating all the way to back 8 thousand years Before Christ, as you'll know-" Freddy paused again, expecting Eden to continue- to which he wasted no time:

"The exact timing, date of the very 'beginning' of our life, more importantly- yours... fro-..from the moment you begun to breathe o-on this planet... to when you actually became self-aware and concious as an entity... remains to be unclear and unknown, eh.." the priest trailed off, resting both of his bony old hands over his belly, shyly smiling. Happy to share information alongside his best friend.

"Yes?" Sün simply asked, leaning over the table as two of his claws tapped on it's wooden surface.

The rat-priest awkwardly had a staring match with the deity, growing uncertain if he was meant to reply...

"Are you both quite done with your history lesson?" Sün asked once he was met with silence, his tone condescending. The air tensed up a little with this response.

"I've said this before, and I'll say it again: I do not care for date accuracies. What matters is the planet having successfully spun around, completing the three-hundred-sixty-five solar days. Another year... not in celebration of my birth, you fools. My aging is not as limited as a human or an animal, to be celebrated; another year in celebratrion of the very planet WE LIVE ON!" Sün suddenly screamed, his tone abruptly going from calm and collected- to absolute fury as he slammed a clenched, clawed fist down on the table and causing it to shake.

This caught off guard many of the sins- Claude choked on his drink, causing it to spill over his chest a little; Rotgut and Eden flinched back in their seat; Jeremiah simply lifted his head up from his palm and his gaze finally focusing on the angered God, and Willy practically fell out of his chair with a yelp and cowered in fear, pathetically hiding behind Eden's chair, shakingly clutching at his clothing.

Freddy was the only one that remained perfectly still and unphased by Sün's reaction, although he begun to sweat as he nervously looked down at his hands, worrying for his friend's safety.

Silence. Some cult members could be heard whispering amongst themselves.

"I keep this beauty alive. My heart makes it thrive with life. I want what my essence keeps alive to be cared for and praised. And I myself want to be given the respect and acknowledgement I deserve." He rambled as his heavy footsteps echoed, he circled around the table, observing each and every one of the sins.

Willy scrambled underneath the table, fearfully hugging Eden's legs as Sün's walking pace slowed as he approached the rat-priest, until he fully stopped right behind him. Eden didn't dare turn around, he was shaking with dread and fear. His rats within him squirmed and anxiously gnawed on his bones.

"And what do I get instead?" Sün asked condescendingly as a clawed, dark hand gently wrapped around the old priest's neck, "Disappointment. With useless information I have lived through." His warm grip quickly intensifying in heat and tightening around him. The poor man could feel his rats, his precious babies, squeak in fear and worming around his insides in an attempt to get away from the heat.

They would burst out of him. They didn't want to, but they would dig their way out in an instinctive attempt to escape the rising heat, just like that one old torture method...

Freddy's hands clutched together with anxiety, though he kept an emotionless face; Rotgut seemed to want to say something, but he felt... cowardice, he felt his words would hold no value even if he tried, Sün would just brush him aside, no...?

Finally, as if by miracle, liquid getting splashed on the cruel deity's hand caught his (and Eden's) attention; the heat quickly vanished and his grip softened.

Claude held his empty glass before the both of them, it dripped some droplets of water still; he was standing up from his chair.

"Suffit. (Enough.) " He mused, his tone flat and slightly bothered- as if he was watching some high school drama and was annoyed by it.

"Indeed. I think that would be enough for all of us." Freddy chimed in, suddenly grabbing the God's wretched hand and tearing it from his friend's neck with force as he, too, stood up from his chair. Now he did have an expression on his face: frustration, anger.

Eden gulped heavily, his rats still tense but slightly more relaxed; he stumbled his way up, avoiding Sün like the plague as he speed-walked to the other side of the table with Willy in tow, the wild fox-man absolutely terrified still- he couldn't even choke up one word, only heavy breathing.

"Unless you wish to start your new year by starting petty fights in front of your flock, when we're all supposed to bask in your glory, hm?" The scientist added, now using that same condescending tone.

"Wouldn't that be hypocritcal and embarassing, My Lord?" He practically hissed that title between gritted teeth as he stared daggers into Sün's glowing pupils, the ponytail holder beginning to make a sizzling sound before breaking and freeing the man's milky-white locks; his mane growing warm as the tips of his hair became almost flame-like.

"Drama de ano novo... de novo. Exatamente o que eu desejava. (new year drama... again. Just what I wished for.)" Jeremiah mumbled to himself quietly in a sarcastic tone as he rubbed his eyes with two fingers, tired of this already.

"... very well." Sün replied, his collected tone 'miraculously' returning- although he tore his hand away from Freddy's grip.

They both continued to silently stare at eachother for a moment, as if they were intensely fighting only with eachother's gaze. And just like that they parted ways, Freddy going over to be by his friend's side.

"I suppose it would be more of a waste of my valuable time..." the deity continued,

"Such a little thing such as a rat wouldn't be worth the punishment during such an important but short event... even if the year date of our universe never changes...ah, the 'canon', as the modern term puts it." Sün chuckled lightly at pronouncing that 'modern' word.

#eternal sunlight ( sün )#from my mouth to yours ( rotgut )#look at that disgusting display ( claude )#the father ( eden )#rabid jealousy ( willy )#get out of my sight ( freddy )#greed has no limit ( jeremiah )#emotional abuse tw #abuse tw #torture tw #also yeah sün breaks the fourth wall at the end whoops.#he is allowed a little self-awareness of the world he lives in. as a treat /j

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sandsofoneiros · 3 years

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Sour Candy.

I wrote a little thing and gave it a bad title.

Poe Dameron x OC.

Not everything is what it seems.

TW: Food mention.

Lazy proofreading, be warned.

“You should give up now, Commander Dameron. I have you right where I want you.” Her voice was sweet. Too sweet for someone so clearly bent on hurting him. How could she do this to him? They were friends! They had fought alongside each other, confided in each other, and laughed together! Poe was in utter disbelief as he stared at the woman in front of him. That sweet smile turned into a cruel one. That smile now mocked him. Where was his friend? Where was the girl who shared her tea with him on the nights that they couldn’t sleep? Trading stories above their childhood. She wasn’t there anymore. Replaced with a cold-blooded woman who didn’t care about anything other than herself.

“You won’t win, Poe. She’s already won. Just give up now.” Finn’s voice was pleading in his ear, but Poe refused. He couldn’t let her win. Not like this.

“Please. Don’t do this, Ro. I know you don’t want to do this. Where’s the green-eyed girl from Naboo that loves tea? The girl who fought by my side?”

“Give it up, Poe. She will not give in.” Kaydel sighed before shaking her head.

“I’m not giving up.”

Their words echoed in his head as he kept looking for ways to turn this around. To bring her back to his side. But it didn’t work. Her eyes were shining with glee and determination.

Ro watched him with a grin. She knew she had him, that he was merely stalling despite the defeat that was looming. Everyone around them knew what was going to happen, but he still wouldn’t give up. It was cute. The pilot thought he could fix all this. Undone all her work. Not that simple. It would never be that simple. She had known her plan since the very beginning, and now it was being executed perfectly. Right in front of everyone. How much better could this be? She was going to take down one of the Resistance’s best pilots. The galaxy’s best pilot. Aurora Citlali was going to beat him. The room was quiet, and everyone’s eyes locked on the soldier and the pilot. Wondering what was going to happen next. They were all telling him to quit, and they were wise to do so. Her eyes scanned as she waited on his next move, growing bored by the second. The others whispered in his ear as if their advice would change the outcome of everything.

“You don't really want to do this, sweetheart. Not to me, at least. C’mon, we have a connection.”

The comment caused her eyes to roll while she took a sip of her tea. His tongue swiped over his bottom lip before his leg bounced. A sign that told Ro that he knew he was defeated. She had won, and he wasn’t ready to accept that. Her lips curled into another sweet smile. Another victory. She just needed to wait for a little longer and she would have him broken. It would be a sweet victory. A well-deserved victory.

“Just let go. I promise it won’t be that bad.” She cooed before setting her cup down and leaning forward. Like a Nexu fixing to pounce on their prey after stalking it for hours. The end was finally near.

His heart was pounding in his ears as he went to move his hand. Never had his hand felt so heavy in his life, and shook. A shaky hand wasn’t like him. It was typically steady no matter what was happening around him, but this wasn’t like the other times. So much riding on these next movements. Squeezing his eyes shut, he made his next move.

“Read and weep, curls. I won again!” She laid down her Sabacc card with a proud smile for collecting her winnings. The room groaned loudly, but none of them were shocked. Poe wasn’t the best at Sabacc, but Ro was way too good at the game. She smiled as she looked through the sweets that had been used for bets. Some of them were her favorites.

“You’re cheating. There’s no way you can always win.”

“Poe, I can’t cheat. It’s strategy.” She chuckled before holding her hand out to him, waiting to collect his bet from him.

“You have the Force then. That’s the only way you can win so much,” Poe mumbled as he dug a hand in his jacket pocket for her. Fishing out the taffy that he had gotten for her from a recent mission. Her eyes lit up as she snatched it out of his hand. Everyone had cleared out and headed towards their respective quarters, leaving just the two of them for a moment. “Want me to help you carry that back to your quarters?”

Ro nodded early as she dug into her beloved taffy and placed some candy in Poe’s pockets.

“I don’t have the Force. I just played Sabacc a lot when I was a teenager. Takes some practice. You did better this game but I can tell when you have a bad hand. Your face gives it away.”

“You stare at my face so much to notice those changes?” He asked with a grin, glancing over at the blushing Ro. Her mouth moved to form words but nothing came out.

“Shut up, Dameron. Your face is pleasant to look at.” She shrugged before popping another piece of candy into her mouth. Poe’s hand had already dug into the taffy bag as well.

“Just so you know, I study your face sometimes too.”

Her face had heated once again as they walked back to her quarters, munching on the hard-earned sweets. It was a comfortable silence between them and one that she enjoyed. Even though her sweet horde was smaller when they finally got to her quarters. Biting her lip, she realized she didn’t want to say goodbye just yet. Then the thought came to her.

“I could give you some pointers on Sabacc if you have nothing else planned for the night? I have a deck in my room.”

“Oh? Well, I can’t pass up a chance to learn from the master.”

#TW: food mention #CW: food mention #My writing #Mar’s Writing #my oc #Poe Dameron x OC

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emachinescat · 3 years

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Knock

A Merlin Fan-Fiction

by @emachinescat

@febuwhump day 10 - “I’m sorry, I didn’t know”

Summary: It is common knowledge in Camelot that one should never, under any circumstances, enter Sir Owen’s chambers without knocking. Unfortunately, someone forgot to tell Prince Arthur’s new servant.

Characters: Merlin, Arthur, Sir Owen (OC)

Words: 4,618

TW: PTSD episode/flashback

Note: Early days for our boys. :)

Keep reading here, or on AO3!

If you enjoy, pease consider liking, commenting, or re-blogging, and you can follow me for more content like this!

Everyone in Camelot knew about Sir Owen, and everyone who had met him loved him. He was an old warrior, a man of honor and valor with a keen sense for battle and a veritable treasure trove of wisdom. He was old and gray now, and limped from the festering aches of old battle wounds, but he always had a smile and time to chat with anyone he met, nobles and servants alike. After he had retired from knighthood, Uther had awarded him quarters in the castle and a life of luxury.

The kind old man received regular visitors to his spacious rooms and always gladly welcomed them. Lady Morgana brought him a vase of flowers every week, new knights would often visit for advice and encouragement, many of the maids would stop for quick chats between chores, and Gaius brought him his medicine for his old battle wounds and nightmares every evening before bed. Once or twice the king himself had been seen visiting his old friend, and he too always departed with a smile.

There was something that every one of Sir Owen’s many admirers and visitors knew, however, and honored without compromise: Never, under any circumstances, should you enter Sir Owen’s chambers without knocking.

More specifically, no one should enter his chambers without loudly and clearly announcing themselves first – a light, polite knock wouldn’t do, especially not now that he had lost all his hearing in one ear, with the other ear quickly following suit. You had to knock loudly and aggressively, and if he still didn’t hear you, then you had to proclaim yourself as loudly as possible when you eased the door open to peek in. Ultimately, the last thing anyone wanted to do was to sneak up on the beloved Sir Owen, because if he was taken off guard, if he thought he was being ambushed, he became a completely different person.

Sir Owen had fought valiantly for Camelot for many decades, and in that time he saw horrors of battle and the worst of humanity. He’d been gravely injured protecting his fellow knights on no less than three occasions, the final of which had forced him to hang up his chainmail for good. And though he was a perfectly pleasant gentleman when he was in his right mind, in those moments of fear and panic – like when he thought he was being snuck up on or ambushed – he shifted back into the fearsome warrior who had felled scores of Camelot’s enemy’s over the years. And though he was old, he was still strong for his age, and crafty, and his confusion only fueled the desperate strength within him.

Sadly, his moments of lucidity had declined rapidly in recent days, and sometimes he struggled to remember who was his enemy and who was his friend during normal, mundane conversations. He only became violent when he was scared or surprised, however, which was what made announcing one’s presence of the utmost importance when calling upon him.

Every servant in Camelot knew this, as did all the knights and nobles who paid him regular visits. Well – all of the servants except for Merlin, Prince Arthur’s new manservant, who had just been ordered by his prince to go to Sir Owens’ chambers to escort the man to the training grounds. Arthur had asked him to oversee the newest recruits on this crisp autumn morning, and to his delight, the old knight, who had been staying in more often than not, had agreed to do just that. Merlin was happy to have a job other than hefting all of Arthur’s heavy equipment to the training grounds on his own (and all in one go, because Arthur was too impatient to allow Merlin to make multiple trips and very clearly cared nothing for Merlin’s well being in the slightest).

Merlin had never met Sir Owen before but knew that he was a bit of a legend around the castle. He’d heard whispers of some of the brave deeds and epic battles the man had fought in Camelot’s first days. He also knew Morgana brought him flowers to brighten up his chambers, and that he was supposed to be a very kind man with great advice and a smile that would brighten every room. Sir Owen sounded a positive delight, and Merlin had jumped at the opportunity to fetch him for Arthur so that he could meet this amazing man for himself. He sounded like a breath of fresh air in the stuffy citadel – but then again, most anyone who wasn't the prince of Camelot could claim that title, in Merlin's book.

Although Merlin had never been good at the niceties of court when dealing with Arthur, he did make it a priority to remember to knock if he were at anyone else’s door – as Gaius had told him on many occasions, if he just barged into the wrong person’s chambers, he could be in trouble so deep that even Gaius couldn’t bail him out. And so, when he reached the old knight’s chamber door, Merlin made a point to reach out his fist and give a few hearty knocks on the door.

No answer.

Merlin waited a short time before knocking again, but again, no one answered. Pressing his ear against intricately carved wood, he thought could hear something from inside of the room – a faint shuffling, as if someone were moving around. The warlock shifted anxiously on his feet, warning bells clanging in his head. If someone was in the room, why didn’t they answer the door? At the very least, why did the person not call out? Merlin could only think of two possibilities: Either the person in the room could not answer, or was not supposed to be there. Either way, something was off, and Merlin had to check and make sure the old man he was meant to fetch was okay.

Merlin tried the door – locked – and, glancing over his shoulder to make sure he was alone, directed a pointed stare at the lock, felt the heat of magic swell within him, and heard the rewarding clunk as the door unlocked itself. Quietly, Merlin eased the door open and peered inside, looking for any sign of trouble. “Sir Owen?” His calm, quiet voice contradicted the furious beat of his heart, that instinct that warned him of danger.

No one seemed to be in the room that the wary servant could see, so Merlin inched his way further inside, taking in the elegant but sparse furnishings, the headless training dummy in old old but obviously well-cared for armor, and the weapon rack mounted on the wall that seemed to be missing its occupant. “Sir Owen?” Merlin called again, this time a little louder.

He didn’t even have time to turn when he heard the quiet rush of footsteps from behind. The next thing he knew, Merlin was facedown on the warm woolen rug that spanned much of the stone floor, the breath completely knocked out of him. Pain lanced through his upper back, sparking like lightning between his shoulder blades. Something had hit him – hard – and Merlin’s instincts warned him that whoever it was that had attacked him wasn’t done.

Only sheer force of will allowed the warlock to heave himself over on his back just in time to see Sir Owen himself, with his normally friendly, laugh-lined face twisted into a ferocious mockery of itself, gray hair come loose from its tie, and a hefty longsword, dulled with age but still deadly, brandished in his right hand. Merlin noticed that the sword, and the hand that held it, shook slightly moments before the old man – still in incredible shape for his age, as Merlin’s screaming back proved clearly! – lunged again, this time with the point of the blade and not the flat.

Merlin rolled to the side, lungs still heaving for air after being winded by Owen’s first hit, and the point of the sword cut a frayed line in the rug right where Merlin’s head had been. Struggling to his feet, the disoriented servant tried to appeal to the knight’s sensibilities; he gasped, “Sir Owen! I’m sorry; I didn’t mean to frighten you.” Another swing of the sword, and Merlin ducked out of the way in the nick of time. “I did knock!” he insisted.

Sir Owen’s eyes, Merlin noticed, were clouded, and when the man spoke, it became obvious that he was seeing a completely different scene than what was actually going on around him. Somehow, it seemed, he thought he was back on the battlefield, fighting a deadly opponent, instead of cornering a frightened servant who had done nothing to harm him. “I won’t let you do it!” the man roared, and his voice cracked under the pressure of the rage and sorrow. “You killed my men – you take no one else!”

He advanced again, this time slowly, methodically, and Merlin backed away at the same pace, all too aware of the corner he was trapping himself in but afraid to bolt and frighten his confused aggressor into doing something he’d later regret. Raising his hands, Merlin spoke like he was addressing a small animal or a frightened child, “Sir Owen, my name is Merlin. I’m Prince Arthur’s servant. He sent me here to fetch you for the –”

He was cut off as Owen slashed forward with the sword unexpectedly, and this time Merlin wasn’t quite fast enough. Even the dulled edge was enough to slice through Merlin’s shirt and into his upper arm, and fire erupted in the wound. Blood, warm and sticky, oozed from the cut and meandered down his arm. He ignored it, more focused on staying alive.

“Liar! Traitor! Murderer!”

Merlin didn’t want to use magic on Sir Owen – from what he’d heard, the man was a genuinely good person, though something seemed very wrong with him now. On top of that, if he realized that his opponent had used magic after the fact, Merlin would be killed anyway. But the idea of being run through with a dull sword was so unpleasant that Merlin decided to take the risk. He turned to run from the next attack, allowed his eyes to flash gold, and heard his pursuer curse as his weapon somehow tumbled from his hands and skittered across the room. Hopefully, if he remembered this at all, he would put it down to losing his grip.

Now that the sword was out of the picture, Merlin felt a bit safer, but he couldn’t decide if he should try to help Sir Owen himself or run to get someone else instead. His choice was taken away from him, though, because he hesitated a second too long – in the time that Merlin had been debating his next course of action, the keen knight had made up his mind and charged bravely into battle. Sir Owen was the kind of warrior who would continue to fight with his bare hands against an entire heavily armed battalion until the very end. He never gave up, never let a little thing like losing a sword stop him.

And so he charged.

To Merlin, it was like Arthur’s prized steed had barreled straight into him, such was the force with which Sir Owen slammed against him. For the second time in ten minutes, the wind was driven out of him from the force of the blow, and he sprawled, stunned, on the chamber floor, his head rapping painfully against the stone.

Bright lights flickered in his field of vision and he tried desperately to get his body to move, but his arms and legs weren’t listening. He watched as the old knight, fury in his dark eyes, approached him, having abandoned the sword all together now that his enemy lay helpless at his feet. Merlin should have been glad that he wasn’t using the sword, but he had a very unpleasant feeling that Owen did not need a weapon to kill.

Seconds later, his unprotected side exploded in agony as Sir Owen drove his boot forward in a merciless kick. Afraid to use his magic again, forgetting everything but his basest instincts to survive, Merlin curled in on himself, nearly crying out at the pain the movement caused him. Another kick, this one to his back, and Merlin rolled away the best he could, panting in pain. Halfway to his feet, on hands and knees, almost there –

Another kick, this one to his gut, and he gagged, falling forward, face-first onto the floor. Blood welled up in his mouth – he must have bitten his tongue.

Merlin scrabbled for purchase on the cold stone, trying to regain his bearings even as every part of his body rebelled against him. He felt the man’s toe beneath his torso and sucked in a painful breath, but this time, all Owen did was flip him over. Merlin lay on his back, breath wheezing from his chest, and he was sure he had a broken rib, maybe more. Slowly, deliberately, like he had all the time in the world at his disposal, the old man knelt next to his fallen foe and leaned in close. Merlin could smell breakfast on his breath – the stink of aged cheese mingled with the sweetness of fruit – as he man hissed, “You’ll die for this – sorcerer!”

Fear crescendoed, overshadowing the symphony of pain, as Merlin realized that somehow, Sir Owen had figured out what he had done, what he was. Helplessness took hold of the warlock. It didn’t matter if he survived this encounter – which was looking less likely by the second, unless he used his magic again – his life in Camelot was over. Might as well use his magic to escape. The giant lizard was wrong, then. It couldn't be his destiny to serve Arthur and bring magic and peace to Albion. He would be on the run for the rest of his life.

Merlin focused on his magic through the pain and felt it rise within him. It slipped out of his grasp as something latched onto his hair and dragged his head up. Merlin got a single look up close at Sir Owen’s eyes, filled with the kind of suffering no sword could inflict, brimming with regrets and hatred and death, before the man slammed the back of Merlin’s head into the ground. A flash of white light – intense pain, swirling darkness.

Merlin may have blacked out for a few seconds, but it couldn’t have been long, because when he regained a semblance of awareness – he couldn’t move, so much pain, vision blurred, he was going to be sick – Sir Owen had retrieved his sword and had it poised over his helpless victim’s heart. “Rot in hell, sorcerer,” he spat, and Merlin squeezed his eyes shut, partly against the pain, mostly in preparation for death.

A voice sounded from somewhere close by, first annoyed, then panicked: “What the hell is taking so long Merlin? I– what – NO!”

The fear in the last word, unexpected and guttural as it was, was enough to convince Merlin to open his eyes. Through the haze his vision had become, he saw a red and gold blur tackle Sir Owen, heard through ringing ears the sound of a brief struggle and the angry accusation “Sorcerer!” and then there was someone kneeling over him again, and Merlin struggled to sit up, to get away. He managed to turn over just in time to vomit all over Prince Arthur’s clean boots.

To his surprise, the prince didn’t yell or order him to scrub them again, right then and there. Instead, with surprisingly gentle hands, the man eased his servant back onto the ground and began checking him for injuries.

“You idiot,” Arthur said as he probed the back of Merlin’s head, eliciting a cry of pain and frowning at the blood staining his fingertips. He moved on to check Merlin’s ribs (“Three broken, at the very least, but we’ll have Gaius look at you.”) and arm. “It’s fairly shallow,” he said, and Merlin thought he must have been giddy with pain and exertion at this point, because it sounded like the prince was actually relieved. Arthur stood, stepped out of his boots with a grimace, and ordered, “Stay there. I mean it – don’t move. I’ve subdued Sir Owen for the moment, but he needs Gaius.” A deep crevice between his brows, the prince added, “And so do you. You’re a mess.”

Merlin didn’t hear if Arthur said anything else after that. He didn’t even see the prince leave the room. The darkness had claimed him by then, wrapping its welcoming arms of comfort around him and staving off, if only for a little while, the pain and the fear of what was to come.

***

When he awoke, it was in his own bed, in his room, and he was alone. Merlin’s head hurt more than he could ever remember it doing before – even more than the time he and Will had climbed on top of his roof and he’d fallen through the thatch. He’d smacked his head on the kitchen table when he’d landed on it, but the pain he’d been in had been nothing compared to his mother’s wrath. Now, though, it was not an ache or even bursts of sharp pains – it was like a drum, and every beat increased the agony he felt. It was the kind of headache that turned your stomach against you, too, and made the world around you lose its crisp edges and stole your ability to concentrate on even the most simple of tasks. His arm, now bandaged, stung fiercely, and the gnawing ache in his ribs turned into a cacophonous mass of torment any time he thought of moving.

So he didn’t move. He lay there, head pounding, body hurting like he had been run over by a horse, and allowed his mind to wander, though with the headache he had, he really did not have much control over the direction of his thoughts, anyway. In the end, every wandering pathway of his consciousness, every thought and question and memory, all led back to the terrifying realization that Sir Owen had seen his magic – somehow – and had probably already told Arthur and the king. Any moment now, guards would barge into his room and throw him into a cold, dark cell. Or maybe they’d skip the cell all together and toss him on a pyre. They wouldn’t even have to tie him to it. He was too weak to move.

The door opened, and Merlin jumped in a mixture of surprise and terror. Even the small movement caused all of his injuries to flare up and he slumped back, face beaded with sweat, panting in exhaustion and pain, waiting for the inevitable and wondering if he should try to fight back with magic since his secret was already out anyway.

It was good that he didn’t, because it was Arthur who entered, and he was alone, and there was a strange look on his face – if Merlin didn’t know better, he would have said it was somewhere between worried and guilty, with a healthy dose of discomfort sprinkled in for good measure. “Merlin,” the prince said in surprise, and it occurred to Merlin that he hadn’t expected his servant to be awake yet. Arthur stayed in the doorway, uncertainty rolling off of him in waves. “I – Gaius stepped out for a moment, to check up on Sir Owen. He’s been in quite a state, really disoriented and worried that he hurt you badly.”

Merlin frowned, and even that hurt. “Gaius?”

Arthur stared at Merlin like he’d grown another head. “No, you moron. Sir Owen. He feels terrible about what happened.”

Perhaps it was the head injury, but Merlin found himself thoroughly confused. “So… you’re not here to arrest me?” He could hear the slur in his own words and realized that he probably looked as bad as – if not worse than – he sounded. Arthur appeared to be as baffled as Merlin. He finally moved beyond the arch of the door and into the room, awkwardly taking a seat in Merlin’s chair, near the bed.

“Why would I be here to arrest you?” His blue eyes narrowed suspiciously. “What did you do this time?”

“Uh, Sir Owen, he said…” Merlin’s thoughts were as fuzzy as his sight, and he felt that distinctive curdling in his stomach that told him he was going to be decorating Arthur’s shoes again very shortly. Arthur must have seen that tell-tale paling of the face and whitening of the knuckles, because moments later, a bucket had been shoved under his nose and he threw up into it, vaguely surprised that there was anything left to expel. Arthur had produced a cup of water from somewhere, and when Merlin finished, the prince helped him take a sip. The water was bliss, cooling his raw throat and chasing away the sour taste in his mouth.

Nausea under control for the moment, Merlin cleared his throat uncomfortably, not meeting Arthur’s eye after the strangely intimate moment (if he had been looking, he would have seen Arthur studiously avoiding his gaze as well). Merlin picked up where he’d left off, his voice cracked and timid. “Sir Owen called me a sorcerer.” Arthur did look at him now, Merlin felt his eyes, but the warlock didn’t reciprocate. Instead, in a rush, he said, “If he told you that, you have to understand–”

“Merlin.” Arthur’s voice held no malice, only concern and a heaviness that the servant did not understand. “You don’t have to explain to me that you’re not a sorcerer. Yes, Sir Owen said something about it when I was pulling him off of you, but I know he was confused.”

Cautiously, Merlin pressed, “How do you know?”

Arthur laughed, a harsh, clipped sound. “Are you saying that you are a sorcerer?”

Merlin’s stomach flipped over on itself. “No,” he lied, not sure why he had even mentioned Sir Owen’s accusation in the first place. He was making himself look more suspicious; it was just hard to control what came out of his mouth – harder than usual, anyway. “I just want to know why you believe me over a respected former knight.” There. That was reasonable, right? Merlin’s head ached, and he just wanted to go back to sleep, but he had to know, had to have some kind of concrete assurance before he could rest.

Arthur sighed. That same weight tugged at the next words he said: “Sir Owen… he was a great knight, and incredibly brave and strong – still is, for that matter–”

“You can say that again,” Merlin muttered, wincing.

Arthur glared at him, daring him to interrupt again, and continued, “But he has seen some horrible things on the field of battle. And if he thinks he’s being attacked, he lashes out. Gaius says that he somehow finds himself back in the middle of a war, fighting off his worst enemies and watching his men die around him. It’s like he’s reliving the worst days of his life. And that’s why he attacked you – he thought you were trying to ambush and kill him.”

“But that doesn’t explain–”

“I’m getting there, Merlin. For someone who looks half-dead, you sure can run your mouth like usual.” Merlin grinned, despite himself. “Oh, don’t look so proud,” Arthur ordered irritably. “It’s incredibly irritating.” But his own mouth had stretched into a half–smile as well.

“Anyway – the last battle, the one that ended his career… A sorcerer who was fighting against Camelot nearly crippled him. He lay there, helpless, and had to watch as the sorcerer killed at least a dozen of his men. One of them was his only son.”

A grim silence settled over master and servant, and a sick pit had formed in Merlin’s stomach. It was the kind of hollowness that could only exist in misery and pain, and he found himself wishing for the nausea to return.

“He thought I was that sorcerer,” Merlin clarified, heart aching for the man that had nearly killed him. “I didn’t know”

“How could you?” Arthur asked. Then he added, his voice taking on more of the guilt that Merlin had thought he’d heard earlier, “And I – well, it’s my fault,” he hedged lamely. “That you got hurt. Because I didn’t even think to warn you to knock before you entered the room. I was so focused on getting to the training field that it didn’t cross my mind that you didn’t know about Sir Owen’s flashbacks, as Gaius calls them.”

Merlin’s eyelids were heavy, and everything hurt, and he could feel sleep calling to him, but he insisted stubbornly, “I did knock.”

Arthur raised his eyebrows in surprise. “Wonders never cease. But,” he clarified, “if he doesn’t hear you knocking and doesn’t know you’re coming, then it doesn’t even matter if you did knock. I should have told you to announce yourself, or had someone go with you that knew what to do.”

Somewhere in the other room, a door opened and closed.

“That’ll be Gaius,” said Arthur, standing up. He looked down at his battered servant, hesitated for the briefest of moments, and then said, “Sir Owen sends his apologies, and he hopes to meet you under better circumstances once you’re both feeling up to it.” In a rush, he added, “And, for what it’s worth, I – I’m sorry too.”

Merlin blinked in surprise, knowing how hard it had to have been for Arthur to admit he had made a mistake, let alone apologize for it. And even though the servant truly didn’t think the prince had anything to apologize for (after all, Merlin forgot important things all the time), it was touching, and he could tell that despite his discomfort that Arthur really meant it and needed to know that all was well.

Arthur leaned over, gave Merlin’s shoulder a gentle squeeze – even that sent bolts of agony through Merlin’s body, but the gesture was appreciated, even cherished. “You did… surprisingly well in holding him off until I found you,” he admitted as Gaius’s footsteps were heard ascending the short set of stairs behind him.

“He beat me to a pulp and nearly sliced me in half,” Merlin deadpanned.

“Yes, but you’re still alive, and that in itself is almost impressive,” Arthur said, and Merlin couldn't tell if the prince was serious or not. “Anyway,” he said, backing away and making room for Gaius, who was puttering into the small room balancing a tray of medicines and broth. “I need to get to training. Gaius, make sure he’s back to work the moment he’s well enough, but… also, not a moment before he’s ready.”

Gaius nodded, patted Arthur on the shoulder in thanks, and began to treat his patient. Merlin watched Arthur leave, a warm feeling blossoming in his chest that had nothing to do with the broken ribs. He barely even heard Gaius’s lecture about propriety and taking care of himself and knowing all the facts before he walked in on a situation. His wandering, aching mind was too busy thinking about the prince.

When he’d first come to Camelot, Arthur never would have apologized for anything. Already, amazingly, Merlin was beginning to see a change in the other man, a spark of something that made Merlin the tiniest bit proud to know him. And it may have been the head injury talking, but right now, despite the irritation he so commonly felt toward his new master, the idea of this destiny the dragon had prophesied suddenly didn’t seem too terrible after all.

Maybe Arthur wasn’t so bad, either.

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pevchpits · 3 years

Text

𝙘𝙝𝙖𝙧𝙡𝙚𝙨 "𝙘𝙝𝙪𝙘𝙠" 𝙝𝙞𝙧𝙖𝙣𝙤. 𝘤𝘪𝘴 𝘮𝘢𝘯. 𝘩𝘦 /𝘩𝘪𝘮. 𝘧𝘰𝘳𝘵𝘺. 𝘣𝘪𝘴𝘦𝘹𝘶𝘢𝘭. 𝘦𝘯𝘷𝘪𝘳𝘰𝘯𝘮𝘦𝘯𝘵𝘢𝘭 𝘦𝘯𝘨𝘪𝘯𝘦𝘦𝘳.

❛ I don't worry, don't worry, don't worry about people in my face I hit 'em with the style and grace, and watch their ankles break ❜

𝘵𝘩𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘴 . 𝘤𝘰𝘯𝘯𝘦𝘤𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯 . 𝘱𝘪𝘯𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘦𝘴𝘵 . 𝘮𝘦𝘮𝘦𝘴 . 𝘮𝘪𝘳𝘳𝘰𝘳 . 𝘮𝘶𝘴𝘪𝘯𝘨𝘴 . 𝘥𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘭𝘰𝘱𝘮𝘦𝘯𝘵 . 𝘥𝘰𝘤. 𝘢𝘭𝘭 . 𝘧𝘶𝘭𝘭 𝘣𝘪𝘰 ⤵︎

𝗠𝗜𝗡𝗜 𝗔𝗣𝗣.

〔 ian anthony dale, 40, cis man, he/him ) CHARLES “CHUCK” HIRANO was seen listening to BAD BAD NEWS BY LEON BRIDGES on their way to ENVIRONMENTAL ENGINEERING. CHUCK is known to be CREATIVE & STUBBORN.

𝗦𝗧𝗔𝗧𝗦.

full name: charles hirano nicknames: chuck is his preferred name, charlie can be used on occasion birth date: september 12, 1982 hometown: born in sao paolo, brazil; raised predominantly in vancouver, british columbia, canada ethnicity: european, japanese gender: cis man sexuality: bisexual religion: agnostic occupation: environmental engineering living situation: home owner languages: english, various programming languages, fluent japanese and portuguese, conversational french, spanish, and mandarin ( chuck only has his private tutors to thank ) height: 5 ft 11 in / 1.8034 m tattoo(s)/piercing(s): none. clothing style: chuck, despite swearing that appearances mean nothing to him, likes to dress on the nicer side when he’s not on sight. a nice pair of slacks, button downs, and form fitting sweaters are some of his signature pieces. hobbies: landscaping! not even gardening particularly but landscaping is big for him. building in general ( swing-sets, tree houses, random counter spaces for the kitchen ), anything that involves spending time with his daughter. billards/pool tournaments with friends when he convinces himself he has the time. photography ( especially of his daughter ). he’s played on a few adult recreational league sports teams. reading, predominantly political and/or historical biographies/autobiographies or historical fiction.

𝗠𝗜𝗡𝗜 𝗕𝗜𝗢.

Life was easy growing up: travels, nannies there to pick up the messes he would make, and tutors there to make sure, amongst all the fun, Charles Hirano was still making the grades his parents expected. His life path was set ahead, clearly lined, with no little diversions or side paths left to be traveled. After high-school, it was straight onto one of the various universities his parents had connections to in order to study business or economics, during university he would intern at his parents’ fossil-fuel company, and then when he graduated he would land a gig and climb the ladder. Take his place. Secure the family legacy.

The world may have been at his fingertips, all his for the taking as his father liked to say, but that world was small. Born and raised inside an echo chamber of his parents and their colleagues beliefs that were never challenged in the private school filled with students from families just like his, Chuck thought he had life figured out by the time he first stepped foot on his university’s campus.

His first class, an elective he chose just to fill his required credit load, was an ethics course in urban planning, and by the first week, his entire major and course plan had changed. Ethics courses replaced economics, environmental science courses replaced entrepreneurship, and engineering courses replaced e-commerce.

By the time his parents realized the switch, it was already to late. They had been too busy dealing with their own business by the time he forwarded the graduation ceremony dates, and Chuck had already snagged a job assisting the city planner and city public health commissioner of Huntsville with short-term and long-term projects for the city. It was a humble gig, and certainly not the one his parents wanted him to take, but Chuck was sold.

[ pregnancy tw ] Once in his new home, it didn’t take long for him to flourish both in his role and social life. He was a bright light with something to prove, and that caught the eyes of his superiors, friends, and who would soon become the mother of his beloved daughter. They started as just friends, as she had been dating one of their mutual friends, but one thing led to a next, and when she went through a horrible break-up, it was Chuck’s shoulder she leaned on. He thought he had found the one, even brought up marriage when he finally made enough to save up for a nice right and nice wedding, so it was the least bit alarming when she found out she was pregnant. The two were happy and excited for this next stage of their life. [ tw end ]

With the promise of marriage in the near future, a new baby girl, and a recent promotion to a full-time environmental engineer for the city, Chuck got comfortable. More effort was put on work and making sure he could build a legacy all his own for his family and eventually save up for that big wedding than on the actual relationships he was working so hard for. By the time his daughter was four, enough was enough. She had fallen out of love, and while it was never explicitly stated, Chuck knew he was the only one to blame.

Years past, and he tried harder both for himself and his daughter. He still has his moments where he’ll get too in his head: dinner will be forgotten about, he’ll be late to picking up his daughter from her mother’s, but he cares, and he’s trying and hoping one day it’ll stick.

𝗛𝗘𝗔𝗗𝗖𝗔𝗡𝗢𝗡𝗦.

- character inspiration: sandy cohen from the oc, jacob yi from minari

- feels as if he has a lot to prove, which only intensifies whenever someone finds out what his parents did and where he came from

- fell in love with design/landscaping/engineering type of work earlier than college, he just never realized it. he’d spend hours creating his own little worlds with whatever he could find around house: desert palaces in sand, mud huts with their own mini gardens, and mazes of snow tunnels feeding into various areas around the family backyard

- extremely smart but can often lack ‘common sense’ and forgets things quite easily

- can come off as a bit intense in work spaces but is very laid back in his social life. snarky and sarcastic at times ( most of the time ) sure, but especially with his daughter, chuck wants her to be able to explore and make mistakes and learn from them without the weight of “expectations”

𝗪𝗔𝗡𝗧𝗘𝗗 𝗖𝗢𝗡𝗡𝗘𝗖𝗧𝗜𝗢𝗡𝗦.

platonic. good pals give him a group of friends! friends that he had through his ex that are now in a bit of a awkward situation but still loving. coworkers ( chuck works for the city so anything govt, engineering, outdoorsy probably has some overlap ), fellow parents! teachers! anyone involved in adult sports teams he might’ve run into ( definitely jack-of-all-trades but master of none in sports, likes it for social aspect and competition ) familial. siblings.... we’d have to work on how they got here, but i imagine he was estranged from most of them. his daughter’s family on her mother’s side! romantic. his ex. maybe one or two dates/flings he’s had to ‘get out there’ since the break-up negative. anyone who might be turned off by his opinionated self! work rivals. anyone angry for how he treated his ex!

#sero.intro #ch. charles hirano — all.#ch. charles hirano — intro.#pregnancy tw

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j-mysticalien · 3 years

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🔫 the oc content, hand it over /lh

you don’t have to if u don’t want to lol I just saw you said something about ocs and 👀 I am interested

FIRST OF ALL 🥺🥺🥺

SECOND OF ALL OKAY OKAY HERE TAKE IT

(I ended up dumping a lot ... I saw the opportunity and ran with it I didn’t mean to oops)

These guys have been in my head for y e a r s and even though I'll abandon them for months at a time, there are plot points I've forgotten, it’s very very unfinished, and clearly influenced by my freshman year interests, they're some of my favorites to imagine and write like every time I do a picrew chain or something I make them too for myself okay okay-

So. Exposition. For ages the demons and dark things have slipped between the veil and into the world. As evil rises, so do those who stand against it. In some parts of the world The Order was established not to eradicate or wage war against the demons, just to keep everything in their proper dimensions and destroy those who refuse. Members of the Order work in groups with assigned roles, often passed down generations. 1: trained in the physical aspects of fighting creatures, they have the unique and mysterious ability to survive in the other dimension-at least better than the average mortal. 2, “Alchemist”: Usually a witch, human descendant of a magical being, or a particularly skilled mortal even. they provide the magical aid since the other cannot perform magic themselves. (Though Witches tend to form their own communities or work with the demon realm which historically has caused tensions) While fewer and well hidden, this secret society guards the mortal realm to this day...

There’s a small, quiet town in the northeast. Nothing much happens- the power may go out or the weather may turn within seconds and figures may appear and shift into the shadows but it all turns out fine eventually. Nothing to worry about. But those who know a little too much know where to go when things need to be taken care off. Bloom’s Florist and Garden Shop, a sweet little store in the middle of town staffed by the owner’s two teenaged kids. They’ve got a lovely selection of flowers and herbs. If you hear noises from their basement, best to ignore it. If you see the kids sprinting down the street, best to stay out of their way. If they tell you to avoid the woods one night, you listen...

OCS MY BELOVED HERE THEY ARE

Dante Achilles Sindweller. He is type 1. He’s tall, thin but muscular, almost dangerously pale. His hair is blue, eyes blue though they sometimes look red. Riddles with piercings and pale scars. Cocky bastard but well deserved. Friendly and deadly all at once. He’s good at what he does and is always up for a challenge. Low key high key losing his sense of humanity. You see actually being in the demon dimension is draining because of the pure chaos of it but returning to reality is rough too. Because of the hunter’s ability (I’m pretty sure they have this ability bc the og demon hunters secretly fucked a bunch of demons so Hunters have demon blood and cannot “die” in the hell dimension but idfk at this point) they can adapt to the word with a combination of demonic attributes and idealized forms that disappear when he gets back. So um the mental toll is very much a thing that he hides very well...at least at first. He doesn’t actually have to travel too often thought, just during emergencies and later he genuinely visits some chill demon friends there.

Cordelia Emerys Bloom, “Cordie”. 5′2″, dark brown skin, black hair she keeps in two short braids, round rimmed glasses. She’s the alchemist. a few of her far off ancestors were fae. Her own magical battery is low so she’s become skilled in working with. potions and magical plants. She’s the most serious member. of the trio. She knows the job, she has a rhythm, she doesn’t like change. This group had three braincells and 90% of the time she has all of them. She likes her plants, her books, and Dante. She’s a little high strung and stubborn but she’s clever, intelligent, and really warm person once you get past her shields. She grew up way too fast and with all her adult figures gone, Dante slowly slipping (though she denies it to the point where Alice bright it up and they didn’t talk for a week), and this irritation turned fear that Alice’s presence is temporary leaves her with some issues but it’s okay im determined to let her be happy, she just has to let herself accept happiness.

Alice Barnet. A witch. Thick, bright red hair, hazel/ blue eyes. Absolutely stunning. and a fashion icon. She moved to attend to uppity private school right outside of town. She stumbled upon the shop and immediately sensed the great power hidden in there. So she just walked in- because of the dimensional portal not because the girl at the register she saw through the window was so pretty what are you talking about it was witch instinct only- and announced herself and offered her services. She’s a flirt, though a sincere one. She projects a confident, fun vibes even if she doesn't actually feel it. Fake it until you make it I guess. Coffee addict will memorize your birth chart, Starbucks order, and all the little behavioral things. Most of my early drabbles with her involve her sitting on Cordie’s desk sipping her iced coffee while Cordie is like “how tf did you get in here” “good question. Better one: they didn’t have the black tea you like is green okay?” She actually is part of an informal coven but that’s a whole side story with its own cast of characters I haven’t touched in ages

Dynamics dynamics so Cordie and Dante are siblings in all but blood, they’ve been together for almost their entire lives. (Cordie’s parents are almost always away-either on Order business or just vibing idk they’re cool though. Dante’s parents are dead but only Dante himself seems to know that-Something about demon blood and dimension hopping doesn’t let their kind live long) They’re really close. If they met at this point in life they probably would never have been friends and Cordie probably would despise him but as they are they love each other and *know* each other. Technically Dante is older but Cordie is the eldest sister of the relationship.

The two of them have opposite reactions when Alice enters their life. (This entrance is one of the few *full* scenes I actually wrote down) Dante is allured-not by her but by the potential adventure she represents. She states her case and he’s like oh this’ll be interesting. They become best friends almost instantly. Their sass, confidence, and more adventurous sides click harmoniously- much of the time to Cordie’s dismay. To Cordelia, Alice is something unknown, something potentially dangerous. She makes her assumptions (prissy, incompetent, entitled, inexperienced) and tolerated her. Alice has had a crush on her since day 1. She was determined to prove herself to the group and really she’d just like to get her trust and friendship at some point, gushy feelings be damned. They fall in love slowly, they learn to trust and be weak and learn to know each other and be themselves Alice is genuinely interested in all the stuff Cordie knows about the magical world and Cordie gets to try to be a person outside of that world. The recent stuff I’ve actually written down involves a lot of sleepy conversations and whispered confessions and soft touched and hhh

Some of the non-human characters

“Lady”: the ghost that haunts the basement/ Order base. She can’t really speak and isn't always visible, never fully. They don’t know who she was or why she’s there. She helps out when she can though. Might help Dante in the very end.

All of the actual demons are off ideas. Like each deadly sin has it’s own demon (they didn’t realize some humans had grouped them together for some time but they think it’s funny, sometimes they hang out just because of that) The gang doesn't directly meet a lot of them but

Curiosity aka “Apple” aka “Heather” aka “Bee”aka...:The spark that fuels innovation ne the spiral of a downfall. frequently visits human world, team switches between stopping them from blowing up a building to playing Mario kart together. Like he definitely causes trouble and should not keep escaping through the portal but like...he’s fun to got to the mall with. Funky Lil dude who’s there for a good time and some chaos. Changes aliases all the time.

Nostalgia aka “Honey-Lavender”: the kind that leaves the ghost of a smile on your face, the kind that drowns you in the past, the kind that makes you want to go back, or forget. mostly stays in hell. One of the demons Dante visits and is acquainted with. They lay and talk. She can be a downer but he doesn’t mind, he appreciates the company and some days she keeps him tethered to his life and sanity (on the bad says she has the opposite effect, she can’t help it)

OKAY AHAHA THATS ENOUGH OUT OF ME THERE THEY ARE THANKS

#OH BOY UM OKAY #j mysticalien ocs #I’m cringing putting some of this on here but #j mysticalien speaks #Dante Cordie Alice

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aloera · 3 years

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The ask prompt is too long to fit into an ask TT_TT but here's the doc for it docs(.)google(.)com/document/d/1yDI7iFRhOJ8ENv_IwZAo3rDSUqj80EiJROS10RzRbj4/edit

the lengths u are going for this,,, much appreciated you're very sweet!!!

prompts + answers under the cut!!

INTRODUCTION

Name: aloera

AO3 account: aloera

Fandoms you write for: bnha

How many stories have you written so far: 19

FANFICTION PROFILE

What's your favorite fandom to write for? hmm,,, used to do pjo and eah (ever after high) and eah was fun as fuck i will say!!! i think bnha is my fav mostly bc i made the most friends in this fandom :D

What's your favorite character/person to write for? bkg and kirishima!! cannot choose do not make me <3

Fic you'd want to improve? probably what we deserve? i rushed the beginning and the confession is a bit stilted imo

Hardest fic you've written? between lion and men -_- bc there is so much canon compliant stuff i've gotta write out before i get to the divergence and its HARD

Easiest fic you've written? come home to me!!! it happened so easily,,, no second guessing no writers block just vibes <33 was lovely i miss it

What would you say is the most "famous" fic you've ever written? also probably come home to me? its got the most interaction

first line of the first fic you've ever written and published. [not including my 2014 ffnet fics] "The bell rings, class starts, and Katsuki and Midoriya are inexplicably absent." from come home to me

Have you ever done a collab with another writer? yes!!!!! on two separate occasions and its so fucking fun i highly recommend trying it out its the best

Do you beta? if asked but honestly im a shit beta lmao

Do you like joining fic fests/exchanges? depends on what i have going on irl but in general yeah!!

FANFICTION PREFERENCES

Fluff or angst? definitely fluff

"OCs" or "Reader" inserts? reader inserts!! have been going ham on them recently

Blurbs or drabbles? blurbs!!

One thing you love about fanfiction i just. i really love slice of life romance?? and most media doesn't give you that bc its dedicated to plot and action and that's valid!! but fanfiction fills in the gap which is really nice

One thing you don't like about fanfiction most of the stuff i don't like is less about actual fanfiction and more about how people behave about it

What is/are your favorite fandom author/authors? IVE BEEN WAITING FOR THIS ONE!!! TURN IT UP!!!

bnha: hiuythn, rae_tnub, Moniix, Ata_Lanta, wrunic, chezka, PurplePersnickety, surveycorpsejean, mahadevi, arxaris, deviance, Oceanbreeze7, MikeWritesThings, bonnia, wonhaebunny, dinosuns

voltron: hiuythn, Oceanbreeze7, DeerstalkerDeathFrisbee, arahir, dinosuns,

and honorable mention to loveclouds im not even in the haikyuu fandom i just love their fics So Much

these are just the ones off the top of my head i have so many favourites idc if i'm only supposed 2 have one!! die mad about it!!!

What is your favorite trope? secret relationship + relationship reveal til the day i die babie <3 <3

Least favorite trope? hm,,, probably just like. angst lmao i cannot stand 90% of it

A fanfiction cliché that you can't help but love? coffeeshop aus,,,, so good

Do you have a type when it comes to pairings? the otp where its like. piece of shit + himbo = love. ex. krbk, catradora, jade/beck

Favorite setting/au? hm,,, truly i cannot pick one KGKSJNHKj but i really like college aus!! and modern aus!! and roommate aus!!

Explain the meaning of your favorite line of dialogue you've written as if someone hasn't read it in context. “He doesn’t know,” Katsuki says, softly. “My timer stopped and nothing happened. He’s not mine.”

the line is from what we deserve!! it's a soulmate au where your timer counts down to the moment that you meet your soulmate!! bakugou's timer ends at USJ when he and kirishima attack kurogiri at the same time (impulsive kings <33) but kirishima's timer doesn't end until kamino because that's when he accepts himself as bakugous soulmate!! unfortunately, when bakugous timer has reached 0, he turned to see that kirishima's was still ticking and therefore believes that kirishima isn't his soulmate.

this line just,, idk. it's really sad. bakugou is such an action-driven character? if something doesn't go his way he Makes it go his way. he's got this insanely volatile quirk and he's got impeccable control of it!! but his love for kirishima isn't something that he can change and he's not going to ruin kirishima's chance of finding his own soulmate because he loves him and wants him to be happy. i really wanted to focus on how resigned he is? and how unusual that is for a character like him.

Favorite trope/genre to write? again, secret relationship with relationship reveals <33 fluff in general is my wheelhouse!!!

A trope/genre you haven't written but think would be a fun challenge? idk if this counts?? have been working on some dead dove concepts!! its super different from what i normally write so its a cool challenge

The one trope/concept you'll never touch and why probably cheating/infidelity?? it just looks,,, super difficult to write well and i don't have enough of an interest in it to try it out

Which do you prefer to write: longer or shorter fics? shorter!! low attention span gang <3

Ideal length to read? 5-10k?

Ideal length to write? 4-8k!!

How long was the longest fic you've ever written? control fraek is around 28k i think?

Have you ever written an AU? yeah!! i've done restaurant au's, soulmate au's, pro hero aus, and fantasy aus (general, not the bnha fantasy ending)

What's your favorite AU trope? hm,, probably when two people in authority are in a secret relationship? ceo's/uni professors/etc etc

Have you ever written smut? yeah!! was. difficult tho

What's your comfort genre? (the one you fall on most in writing/reading) fluff,,, hurt/comfort,,, fix-it fics with happy endings <3

If you were to start writing in other fandoms, which would they be? maybe jjk?? the characters are really cool!!!! fr i might go back to my ever after high roots i love the characters and setting so Much its so fun!!! idec if no ones into it anymore!!!!!

Is there a trope you think you could be easily recognized by in your writing? i've had people say they saw the mention of buff hagakure and recognized it was me so. probably that skdjhnksjd

WRITING STYLE

How would you describe your style? i tend to use shorter sentences and pretty simple words i think? and i gravitate towards lighthearted concepts that allow for ensemble casts and humour!!

Describe your style in three words romcom but fanfic

Favorite words to use when writing? the word reverent!! fuckin love including it!!

Dialogue tags or no dialogue tags? (she said, he said, they said, etc) dialogue tags!!!

Favorite dialogue tag (other than said, if you use them) again idk if this counts but "they said softly" is unmatched

Long sentences vs short vs a mix short <33

What colors would you use to describe your writing? hm,,, depends on the fic i would say?? control fraek is dark green to me?? kinda like a forest at night yk?? scary but there's still life there. sugar cookies is yellow like early morning sunlight, when it rains is yellowy-orange like a caution sign. not gonna list all of them cause theres a lot its just. do u get it? the colours change based on the vibe of the fic.

What song or music genre would you use to describe your writing? think. i am constantly trying to emulate that moment at the end of wasteland baby when hozier goes "im in love/im in love with you."

What kind of metaphors do you rely on? religious metaphors my beloved <33 they're just so pretty!!! i also love comparing stuff to water for some reason?? like that ocean vuong quote thats like "what are you now?/water." it goes hard!!!

What's something you'd say is experimental in your writing at this time? definitely action!! i have,,, no idea how to write it so anything i do is really just me playing around and seeing what works and what doesn't

Do you prefer to write by hand or to type? i've tried both!! personally i prefer typing because it goes way faster but i will say that writing by hand lets me get words down when i'm going through writer's block

What is your preferred place to write (notebook, laptop, cellphone, etc.)? laptop!!

What app/apps do you use to write (word, notepad, etc.)? google docs skjdnkjh its fine on desktop but mobile is,,,,, disgusting

Do you keep a notebook or file/notes page in your phone/device for notes on your writing? ngl i just have everything organized in my drive?? one folder per fandom and then sub folders for ideas+hcs, unfinished wips, and finished fics. multichaps get sub sub folders so i can organize outlines and drafts

Do you listen to music to help you write? yeah!! playlists organized by fic vibe :D

Where do you usually go to write (bedroom, living room, etc.)? mostly in my bedroom??? but moving around to different stops helps too i think!!

How long does it usually take for you to write? again this depends on what i have going on irl, how attached i am to the idea, my mindset at the time, etc!! i am,, the least consistent person skjnhdkjh.

What's your favorite font to use when writing? times new roman my beloved

Other writing habits? sometimes i'll write in the dark?? bad for my eyes but for some reason it gets the words flowing

CONCEPTUALIZATION

How do you conceptualize your ideas? (See specific moments like they're a movie, writing specific lines in your head, don't know until you put the words on paper, etc.) i tend to get inspiration from movies, books, poems, or other fics!!! sometimes one line just makes me go oh,, i want to write something like that,,, and then it helps me create an idea that makes me feel the same way?? i did this with control fraek!!!! i wanted a scenario where bakugou was cold and calculating and i was like hm. to do that he’d have to be focusing on something important. and from there i was able to flesh out the rest of the idea.

Which comes first: the pairing or the plot? with krbk its always always the pairing,, i'll be sitting there like wow <33 i love them <33 what if one of them had amnesia <33 (which, yes, wip!!) otherwise it's usually the plot!! and i slot in characters that i feel make sense

Have you ever used a prompt? yeah!! used a prompt for wlw week 2020 and it was fun as hell

Do you write around the story around a specific scene you want to get to or do you start from a plot idea definitely the first!!!! i almost always write like,,, a super messy scene thats 90% dialogue, keep it in my head, and then write the entire fic around that one moment

Do you find that you include a projection of some part of yourself in the way you write a character? a lot of the time when i write love confessions or love in general i'll have one of the characters think or say that the other person makes their head quiet? and it's because that's what i feel whenever i'm in love?? a quiet mind. i project on characters yeah but i think most of the projection actually goes to the way that i write love

Do you research some of the things you write deeply, partially and kind of wing the rest, or play entirely by ear (in this case, go with whatever base knowledge of the subject you have)? most of the time if i do research it'll be about the setting (ex. the izakaya in to have and to hold) or if i'm having the characters interact with an object that they like. need to know how to use (me, in control fraek: google. hey google. does someone die if they get shot in the foot??? no???? awesome thank u <3)

Have you ever had an idea for a story and forgot about it? lmaoo yeah all the time i'll find like 500-2k words of concepts in my gdocs like i do. not remember this at all

Is there a trope you think you could be easily recognized by in your writing? probably krbk secret relationship lmao

Are there concepts you've tried that turned out better than expected? yeah!! i fully thought the action in control fraek would be awful but it turned out not bad??? which im happy with

Are there concepts you've tried that turned out worse than you expected? again, what we deserve, i personally think it would have worked out better if i'd paced it slower and drawn out the pining but i. do not feel like going back to fix it so its staying the way that it is. pining is so fucking hard to do AHHHH i get so tired with it!!! im like just date already!!!!

PROCESS

How do you come up with titles? in rare occasions (literally. all my multichaps for some reason) the title comes after writing like .5 words of the first chapter im like YES this is it!!!!! sometimes i write the whole thing and pick out one line that fits (what i did with come home to me) a lot of the time i just. steal from songs or poems that i like

What's your favorite emotion to cause on your readers? i like making people happy!!!! love when people comment saying they're cheered up

What's your favorite emotion to write? lovelovelovelovelovelove

Have you ever cried or felt any emotion while reading something you've written? never cried?? but sometimes i'll rereading my hurt/comfort fics 4. yk. comfort

Do you write in order or whatever comes to you? in order!! unless i have a scene that i Need to write and i'll quickly jot it down so that i don't forget

Usual way you procrastinate while writing? ...doing asks like this, making playlists, discord, watching netflix. what don't i do smh

Do you outline or free write? i am. so shit at outlines. i mostly free write and write lil notes for stuff that i wanna add later

Do you set word goals or scene goals (scenes you want to include)? yes!! like i said i'll write loose notes for scenes that i want to add later!! it gives me something to write towards :D

What do you consider when writing your scenes? what goes into making the atmosphere and mood you want? to set a scene i do two things? the first is like,, the five senses bc that always sets the scene really well and makes it feel Real. i'll visualize stuff in my head like its a movie and write out what i would want to tell the set designer?? if the lights are low, if the space is busy, if it's supposed to exude comfort or not.

for putting forward the character's mood one thing i've found that makes a difference is sentence length!! long sentences are good for making a character seem flustered and nervous or not really in control of their emotions? good for love confessions. short sentences are good for when the character is focused on something or short on time. good for fights!!

What's something you never considered to include in your writing that you can't leave out now? def buff hagakure,,,, once i thought of it i was like. if i don't include this at least once in every single fic how could i look at myself in the mirror!!!!!! how could i face anyone!!!!

How do you start a story? establishing a fact about the character or describing the setting! option a is one single thread of gold, option b is between lion and men

How do you end a story? either by tying it back to the beginning or doing like a funny kind of closing??? option a is sugar cookies, option b is a godless society

How do you get out of writer's block? change something!! move something!! i go from typing to handwriting, moving from my bedroom to my living room, switching wips to work on something else!! i do sprints as well?? give myself like fifteen minutes to write something and sometimes 200 words opens up the way for another 2k. sometimes i'll just delete like 500 words and start fresh

Do you edit? or do you toss your writing out there? i edit!!! i'll go over it myself then send it to one or two betas (bee my beloved <33)

How do you edit? do you use spellcheck, grammar checkers, etc? bee is my grammar checker bc he is So Good with grammar. i use grammarly as well for spellcheck stuff mostly?? sometimes my edit process is just like "am i tired of looking at this!! yes <3" and then i post it

PROGRESS

Do you usually like what you write? yeah!!! i post stuff that makes me happy and that i'm fine with rereading!!! i write stuff for self-indulgence reasons first and foremost and i think my writing reflects that sjhnksj

Have you ever written something you didn't like but posted anyways? nope!! even what we deserve i LIKED even if i see a lot of room 4 improvement!! if i don't like smth it's not getting posted

Do you find yourself rereading your writing often? yeah!! the reason i wrote so much krbk secret relationship is because i loved it but i'd read all that there was so i just,, wrote more,, ngl its kinda nice being in a place where i actually like my writing bc i can write stuff that i want to see and really enjoy it!!

Can you tell us anything about your current WIP? sure!! i'm currently working on when it rains which is a fic where bakugou gets hit by a crying quirk!! i'm gonna be using it to explore So Much of all might's character and his relationships with bakugou and aizawa (and i think some people from his past!!)

Can you give us a sneak peek on your current WIP? “You did something. What the hell did you do?” Kirishima sounds pissed off. It would amuse Katsuki if he wasn’t fighting just to stay standing.

“Nothing he didn’t ask for,” Shinsou replies.

“K’ri… shima,” Katsuki croaks out. “‘S fine. Not him.”

His chest collapses back into the familiar dry heaving after that but Kirishima shuts up. He doesn’t apologize to Shinsou.

Kirishima’s a good friend, stubborn and loyal. He stands by Katsuki’s side like an attack dog, blocking him from the view of anyone ogling at his tears.

The last line you've written Ochako knows more than she'd realized. She knows enough to keep her guard up.

It’s not enough.

Open a wip. what’s the first line?

Katsuki wakes up feeling like absolute fucking shit.

INSIGHT

What's your favorite thing about writing? touched on this before but it's mainly just being able to write the things that i want to see and actually enjoy them!!! actually reread them!!!! i thought "wouldn't it be cool if bkg and kirishima owned a restaurant together" and then i wrote it and i like it enough to reread it!!!! being able to create content for myself makes me. so happy

How do you keep yourself inspired? this is gonna sound narcissistic maybe but honestly i'm just really excited about my ideas and where i'm gonna take them and the idea of "i'm gonna get to That scene" keeps me going through the entire thing. also my friends!!!! i'll talk to them about fics and their reactions keep me hyped up enough to finish!!!!

What is your favorite thing to write? just,, slice of life romance,,, stuff thats silly and makes people laugh!!

What do you think your strengths are in writing? i'm good with dialogue!! i do lil voice acting sessions with myself to make sure everything sounds natural and like it's coming from that character skhjnskj

i'm comfortable with my portrayal of love as well??? i spend a lot of time thinking about what it is exactly that i'm trying to get across and i think it turns out well!!

What are things you wish you could practice more? on one hand i wanna get better at writing angst on the other hand i dislike writing angst. do you see my issue

One way you've improved your writing since you began? characterization!! i think i've gotten better at writing characters that are all Different and bring different things to the table!!! i used to project a lot more and it would compromise the characterization because the character was like 70% me and 30% them? not to say that projection is bad but if you do it too much it just,, doesn't read like the character and from a reader's standpoint the narrative can become less compelling

One aspect of writing you're still working on? writing action!!! i. literally hate writing it but i write for a fandom about superheroes so. Unfortunately i gotta learn.

A piece of writing advice you've learned while writing saw this on another tumblr post but they said sometimes if you're struggling with a scene, the problem is five lines back. i've found that to be true!!!! sometimes u gotta delete a chunk and start a little ways back!! i did this with too busy being yours because i was stuck for Weeks and i deleted like 25% of what i had but it helped me actually finish it :D

A bit of writing advice you can't stand when people shit on show don't tell for being overrated lmao bc when u read their writing you can Tell

Something you wish you knew when you first started writing? ,,,,honestly i kind of wish i could know some of the stuff that i used to when i first started writing?? technically i'm better now but creatively i was must better when i wasn't stressing about whether anyone would like what i was writing. so i guess i wish i knew that i should keep that confidence? i kinda wish that i wasn't as insecure about other people's writing styles because i never used to be!!

Something you've learned in life that you apply in writing there's no point in feeling inferior?? writing one genre isn't better than the other. being in one fandom isn't better than being in another. the kind of language you use or the length of your paragraphs- none of that stuff like. matters. what matters is that you're having fun and happy with what you're creating!!!! enjoy other peoples writing but don't let it make you feel worse about yours :D

#AHH ive wanted to answer these for so long...... bro fr i was so happy when u sent these!!! like wow!! finally got sent one!!!#sorry for how long the responses are idk how to be concise #asks #anon #a(lore)a

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