#I have like 3 chaps more already written but I like to write ahead and god. | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

lerya-fanfic · 1 year

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I posted 120 times in 2022

14 posts created (12%)

106 posts reblogged (88%)

Blogs I reblogged the most:

@cyborg-franky

@phoenixkaizen

@arielxlazarus

@autpunk-arsonist

@marco--the--phoenix

I tagged 41 of my posts in 2022

#one piece - 14 posts

#fanfiction - 11 posts

#writers of tumblr - 5 posts

#marco the phoenix - 4 posts

#writing - 2 posts

#portgas d. ace - 2 posts

#fanfic - 2 posts

#this - 2 posts

#bleach - 2 posts

#writers - 2 posts

Longest Tag: 37 characters

#i keep thinking someone else wrote it

My Top Posts in 2022:

Hello. I'm here to ask for your permission to translate A grandfather's gift to keep the family together from One Piece to Portuguese-Brazil, I really liked the story and I wanted other Brazilian fans to read it, I'll give all the credits and if you allow I'll be translating on wattpad with the user of ET-Black.

Hi, I don’t mind. I already have someone who translates to Portuguese but she doesn’t do One Piece, so you can go ahead. Please send me the link after you finished so I can link it in the original. And give propper credit :) Otherwise have fun ^^

2 notes - Posted June 9, 2022

~ ONE WANDERING ASK ~

A solitary ask is now in your box!

Do you have any WIPs?

I have a lot of WIPs to be honest. Right now I have 5 WIPs in progress, that are being posted weekly. 7 WIPs that are being written, but aren't finished yet. 6 WIPs that have been written, but aren't published/posted yet. And 37 WIPs that the Plunny dropped on me that I haven't started on yet.

3 notes - Posted September 15, 2022

Can I brag about this? I’m just going to do it, but I’m almost as 1K user subs on AO3 - and for some reason that feels like a milestone!

4 notes - Posted January 25, 2022

Fic Writer Wrapped - 2021 edition

I was tagged by @theladygia (thanks for that btw!) on main, so I hope they that I do this on my fanfic account xD

How many stories did you complete?

In total? Over 100, but 93 of those are from October challenges, so I don’t think those count xD

Full lenght, or multi chap ones; 25

What is your total word count for the year?

1.3 Million

What fandoms did you write in this year?

One Piece, Naruto, Bleach, Harry Potter, MCU, Teen Wolf - I think those are the main ones.

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

More, a lot more. I kept getting attacked by my muse and couldn’t just leave well enough alone.

But I enjoyed every moment of it, and am very rpoud of the things I did pyblush this year.

What’s your favorite story of the year?

I can’t believe this is how I fell in love

It’s a sugar daddy/suger baby MarAce fic that just popped up and wouldn’t let me go. I loved writing it, and going from reviews people loved reading it too.

What is your most underappreciated story of the year?

I don’t know to be honest, I think I’m doing rather well overall. I think my stats are amazing, so I don’t think I have one really.

Biggest fanfic-related disappointment of 2021?

Spelling mistakes, I have this annoying habit of reading over my own mistakes and as such don’t always notice that I left glaring errors in my fics.

People are pointing them out to me, and I go and correct them. I also have someone who is looking over the fics for me, even if I don’t know if I need a beta-reader per se (I just need someone who points them all out).

Biggest fanfic-related surprise of 2021?

The amount of writing I got in, and the suprising easy way I could get them in.

Not to brag or anything, but if I put my mind to it I could get a chapter finished in about an hour. Given that I write at least 2 hours idea, it isn’t that much of a surprise that I can hit 2.5K words a day, on avarage.

Something you look forward to working on in 2022?

My prompts, I want to explore more about what I can do. With they way there are so many prompts lists out there, as well as the option of readers to send some ine I feel like I’ll accomplish a lot this year!

I’m gonna tag… @know-it-all-hermione, @chromiwrites, @phoenixkaizen and @arielxlazarus

6 notes - Posted January 1, 2022

My #1 post of 2022

Davy Back Fight!

@phoenixkaizen, @aspiringtrashpanda, and Shadow (no tumblr) completed our fic for the @davy-back-fight; which you can read here: https://archiveofourown.org/works/41315799

It was really fun to do, especially with such amazing writers! <3

8 notes - Posted August 28, 2022

Get your Tumblr 2022 Year in Review →

#tumblr2022 #year in review #my 2022 tumblr year in review #your tumblr year in review

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threenounname · 1 year

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1 and 3 ☺️

1. When did you start writing? How?

Well, I don’t know if it’s obvious but Hey, Isn’t This Easy actually is my first fanfic, like… ever. I’ve always liked writing but I’ve never written for fandom before now, and as you well know (lol) the prompt for the AU was originally a request I sent for you to write, but I couldn’t get it out of my head afterwards and wrote the smut scene that’s now in Chapter 1—that was around May this year. Then I decided I wanted to build a little more around that (hence the first half of the chap), and by the time I finished I had spent so much effort writing the little bastard that I felt it was worth putting out there. And I suppose the rest is history!

3. Do you read your own fics?

I do, kind of. First of all my editing phase is almost just as long as my writing (like, from scratch) phase and it consists of me reading my own writing over and over and over and editing as I go. So from that alone I’ve read my stuff so many times already 😭 But after posting, I usually give it one more read on AO3 to spot any typos I might have missed.

I will say though, when I get a particularly lovely comment about something I wrote a while back already, I usually go and reread the piece out of curiosity. My brain is always like “this is for me?? my writing really earned these lovely words??” when I receive good comments and I try to reconcile it in my brain by reading the fic again.

I also look forward to rereading my work/s after maybe a few months or so, just to try to get the experience of reading it as a reader and not as the one who wrote it. I love what I write and it’s catered to me before anyone else so I think it would be fun to revisit hehe. Except the smut scenes. I get so embarrassed rereading my smut, I’ll just skip over it 🫣 LMAO. Y’all go ahead and enjoy reading and rereading though hehe

#why was this so long…..#ask game #ask #sleephyuns ask #does my multichap give ‘first fanfic’ vibes #i’m really curious lol i wanna know

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legendoftheotherside · 2 years

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Legend’s Fairy Tail fics Master list

1. A Sham

Wherein Gray, tired of Juvia's advances, gets Natsu to agree to be his fake boyfriend. As with every ridiculous idea, things don't really go as planned.

Gray x Natsu; rating - T; multi; 17k

I love this story so much because it was the first time I experimented with my writing and finally found the voice that fits me.

2. Fruitful exhibition

Gray is a closeted exhibitionist and gains a voyeur while training in the forest.

Gray x Natsu; rating - E; oneshot; 4,6k

my first gratsu ‘porn without plot’ fic, I was really proud when I wrote it lol

3. Emergence

A Fusion AU written for day 1: prompt create of Gratsu weekend 2022

rating - T; oneshot; 1,6k

Can be read as both gratsu and brotp fic, there’s not much shipping though.

4. On a Dare

“Wyverns are like little brothers to dragons.” “Oh, shut your trap or I’ll shut it for you. Permanently.” “What are you going to do?” Gray asked, barked a short laugh, then shifted to look Natsu directly in his eyes. “Kiss me or something.” Natsu did kiss him. Gray should’ve known better than to challenge him.

Written for day 2: prompt challenge of Gratsu weekend 2022

Gray x Natsu; rating - T; oneshot for now, plan to add one more chapter; 1,8k

5. Warmth

Wherein Gray and Natsu have a tradition of helping each other relax.

Written for day 4: prompt tradition of Gratsu weekend 2022

Gray x Natsu; rating - E; oneshot; 2,1k

6. Of Immanence (and how to find the way beyond)

The foray into the Alvarez Empire leaves Natsu and Gray transfigured and mentally scarred: one exhibiting a horn, a wing, and scales; the other grappling with a murderous voice sweet-talking him into killing his best friend.

Written for Fairy Tail Reverse Bang 2022

Gray x Natsu (mostly brotp); rating - M; oneshot; 6k; relevant tags: angst, hurt/comfort

This is one of my favourites, so go ahead and read if you haven’t already.

7. Of Acceptance (and learning to trust completely)

*continuation oneshot of Of Immanence Natsu and Gray take their relationship to the next level. All it takes is a bit of trust, sinful whispers, and sharp teeth.

Gray x Natsu; rating - E; oneshot; 4.6k; relevant tags: porn with feelings, blood, biting

I had so much fun writing this one since from starting Of Immanence I already wanted to tell this part of the story as well.

8. Accidental Boyfriend Acquisition

In which Natsu and Gray discover that they can be friends, rivals, and lovers at the same time.

Under the guise of their usual challenge, they collide like supernovas, with all the sparks and explosions in tow. No one told them it would be so hot.

Gray x Natsu; rating - M; multi with one chap published; 2k; relevant tags: friends to lovers, first kiss, sexual tension, coming in pants

Not my best work I must admit but it was fun to write.

9. Inevitable

Wherein Natsu and Gray have some fun. Natsu learns how to give a proper blowjob, doesn't get to finish giving one, and realizes that Gray talks a big game but delivers much more.

Gray x Natsu; rating - E; oneshot; 2.5k; relevant tags: rivals with benefits, oral sex, mutual masturbation

I think I outdid myself with this one, classy dirty porn with some humor and feelings sprinkled in.

10. From inside out

It is said that the first scale to be shed by a dragon holds an immense amount of luck. Even though the Dragon Slayer powers aren't kind to Natsu, Gray is always there to help.

Gray x Natsu; rating - G; oneshot; 1.8k; relevant tags: angst, hurt/comfort

This one is really popular with readers — so much that it pleasantly surprised me. Written for Gratsu Week 2023 Day 1: First / Day 4: Angst

11. Out, in the light

This is their secret and it will last as much as it can. ... He’s starting to think his purpose is to be by Natsu’s side. ... Gray is weak, but Natsu is there to be strong for him. ... Yes, it’s time to burn down the shackles that bind him. One secret at a time.

Gray x Natsu; rating - G; oneshot; 1.2k; relevant tags: slight angst, secret relationship, introspection

I attempted something slightly different with this one. I never really wrote introspection POV. Written for Gratsu Week 2023 Day 3: Secret / Day 4: Angst / Day 7: Journey

12. Wilde Jagd

In which Natsu doesn’t know he’s pining after Gray, Magnolia is a melting pot of different cultures, and some traditions are more revealing than others.

Gray x Natsu; rating - T; multi- one chapter for now; 4.3k; relevant tags: developing relationship, friends to lovers, mild hurt/comfort, humour

My newest fic, written as a gift in the secret santa event with winter holidays as main theme. Somewhat filled with world building because I wanted to make Magnolia a melting pot of cultures and well. It took off lmao.

*I hope I don’t have to say, click on each title if you want to read

As you can see I mostly write gratsu content lol

anyways, I’ll add more as I publish.

#gratsu #fairy tail #Gray x Natsu #Natsu x Gray #fic masterlist #fairy tail fic #gray fullbuster #natsu dragneel #AO3 fic #fic masterpost #legend writes

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a-lil-perspective · 4 years

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70 Encouragements/Tips For The Writer:

A/N: Rules don’t exist. These are real and personal and stem from a deteriorating, exhausted Writer who is here to tell you (and herself) that you are amazing and keep going. I hope you find some encouragement within.

Your mental health comes first and foremost.

Indulge and embrace your creative writing pieces when they come (and when they don’t). Especially when they don’t.

Suffering from Writer’s Block or fluctuating hyperfixation? Me too. So is your favorite author. Welcome to the Writer’s Block Party (all my uwus if you see the pun).

Did you spend five hours on this one segment, forget the last time you ate, develop chapped lips, dry eyes, and a stiff back (time to get up and move), bang your head on the wall, laugh, cry, fidget, take your ADHD meds, deviate to watch YouTube, have an epiphany, curse in frustration and wonder why the hell you do this to yourself? Congratulations, you’re a Writer.

Embrace all the not-so-glamorous sides of writing, and accept the fact they’re going to happen time over again.

When you say “just one more line” and it’s 2:00 AM, I’ll be here to remind you to “go to sleep” (because I’m also depriving myself lol).

Actually, sleeping helps your mind feel refreshed, and it’s good for your health. If you’re struggling with a particular segment, one of the best things you can do is just put a cap on it for the time being, put in a placeholder, and get some shut eye. I know you don’t want to. But you will feel so much better and have more clarity and energy to continue when you wake. Trust me.

More often than not, those words you “just didn’t write down fast enough and now forgot” end up revealing themselves to you later in a much more profound way. Give the words time to get ready. They’re just spiffing up before coming to visit. :)

Be proud of yourself and your prose. Writing is an amazing part of who you are.

That trope has been written 1000 times before? Make it 1001.

You’ve already written this scenario? Write it again.

You’ve just written a single sentence. Now sit back for moment and think: you just wrote something brand new, never before seen. Nobody out there will ever write that sentence or formulate those thoughts the exact same way. You are a unique, mind-blowing, awe-inspiring human being.

Bask in the excitement that comes with a completed piece. Reflect on what you learned throughout and celebrate the little victories.

Don’t be afraid to ask for feedback, but also understand that you might not always get it, and that is OK.

Please re-read your work. Be gentle with yourself. You had to write that very first piece to get to where you are now. Love the process.

Your personal writing success is not based off of kudos or likes or reblogs.

There is no right or wrong way to write.

There is no such thing as “good” writing.

Improvement is becoming of everyone so get comfy, strap in. The journey of a Writer is a lifelong one. Here’s to many more works ahead.

Don’t mourn the words you did or didn’t write. Celebrate the ones you will.

One day, you’ll read a piece that will blow you away—and it will be yours.

There is nothing “shameful” about reblogging your own writing works.

I promise you’ll find your “wow” piece—either in something you’ve already written, or something yet to come.

Baby. Please don’t write out of spite. You’re better than that.

You are just as valid/deserving as the next Writer. And you do belong.

If you feel sad/unworthy when sharing your works or interacting with others’, get to the root of why. Writing should be fun, rewarding, and relaxing. Not shameful, embarrassing, or a chore.

Writing (fanfiction, specifically) is labeled as “transformative works”. Self-explanatory, right? However, if you notice the transformative part begin to have a personal effect on you—a negative one—it’s time to take a step back.

Right now, I can name a single quality you possess: diligence. How do I know? Because you’re a Writer, and the two go hand-in-hand.

Got that single scene in your head but you haven’t completed or even began all the chapters preceding? Bruh. Jot that down right now. You don’t need 20k words beforehand.

Embrace your writing mood swings. The stray, sweet and condensed blurbie. The ideal, bridging drabble. The solid, substantial oneshot. The hefty, elaborate 10k word chapter. Appreciate everything in-between, and that you are capable of all of it.

Nobody remembers that extra word or typo or stray speech mark back all the way back in chapter 3. Tell the little monster in your head to go to hell.

You’re not a weirdo for making facial expressions and mulling through your dialogue aloud. You. Are. A. Writer.

It’s OK if the Readers can’t always see exactly what you envisioned in your head, or the full extent of the picture you painted. We all see colors differently.

Don’t be afraid to experiment with your writing.

In fact, challenge yourself to dabble into a new plot/trope/concept every day, even if only for a few minutes. You may discover you love writing it.

There’s no rush to finish/begin any written work. If you take your time, you will make your mark. You’re not falling behind or running late. Slow down and wait for it. :)

Three cheers for hiatus.

Listen to your body and mind, know your limits and when it’s time to take a break.

Actually take a break. :)

If you feel like you’re falling stagnant in creativity, looking to/revisiting other forms of creative media can help encourage the flow.

Ask for encouragement, and be at peace with asking.

Take shelter in fellow writers. Uplift each other always.

You are/will be someone’s favorite author. :)

You don’t have anything to prove. You have something to share.

Someone is thinking about your work right now.

Someone started a series because they drew inspiration from you.

Personal writing style can reflect a lot on the state of one’s mental health. Try to always be attentive to that of your own.

Self-validation must be cultivated early on or nothing will ever work.

Freestyle every once in a while. Write a snippet, timed, and go—without editing. Write the first thing that comes to mind and go from there. Do it all the way through the set time. When it stops, you’ll find yourself unable to. 3,800 words here we come. :)

Not everything needs an outline. :)

It is completely normal to write your story out of order.

Create guidelines for yourself. If they aren’t working, toss ‘em.

Word vomiting can help you feel better (it’s just how it sounds). By clearing all those jumbled thoughts and scattered concepts, you achieve a clearer objective. Try it sometime.

A rough draft is supposed to be rough.

Sometimes the words come to you quicker than others. Be patient. That is merely the construct of a Writer’s mind. You’re a beautiful enigma.

A sentence written is a story progressing.

Writing is an endurance sport. You must pace yourself and exercise it daily.

You are still a Writer even when the words aren’t on the actual page.

You’re not obligated to a writing/posting schedule.

As you progress in your journey and gain more awareness, don’t sacrifice your style. Those beginning works are what define you. Hold onto them and don’t ever let them go.

You’re the only one cringing—

Remember that sometimes words are elusive and you don’t always have control over them, and that is OK. Sometimes they write themselves. Sometimes your characters come to life and break out into dance across your page. Dance with them. You can wrangle them back when the music stops. :)

There is nothing condemning or embarrassing about asking for a beta. Allow someone to help carry the load.

Allow people to cheer you on—even if they don’t read your work.

It’s OK if your writing style isn’t someone else’s preference.

Be your biggest cheerleader. Sometimes you are all you have.

You don’t need anyone’s approval except your own.

You love that trope/concept/story you just wrote? That’s all that matters. The end.

You will never write good. You will write you. And that is good.

Above all else: remember to write for you.🤍

#writers #fanfiction writers #writing encouragement #writer appreciation #writer support #writer struggles #writing motivation #writers tips #for writers #omg am I struggling.#hope these help you beautiful people #my writing #it’s a lil thing

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ursafootprints · 2 years

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writing ask game! 9, 15 and 25!

Hiiii thank you for playing 💖 also lmao bless tumblr for the new auto-collapse feature so I don't have to agonize over where to put the read-more anymore when I natter on forever like this!

9, Do you write linearly or skip around?: I mostly write linearly! Every once in a while if I'm super stuck I'll skip to the scene in the chapter that I'm most excited about to encourage myself to at least keep working, even if I end up having to redo the start of that scene to make it transition more smoothly from the parts I go back in to write ahead of it. (I try to avoid this because at least when I was younger, skipping ahead sometimes meant that I would lose my motivation for a project because I already got to put down the part that I was excited about instead of getting to use reaching that part AS motivation to get through the tough spots, but if I'm already super stuck these days I figure there's no harm in it either way, haha.)

Chapter 5 of you're not yet done was one of the ones where I did this! I got through the first scene and a little bit after the scene break before I got suuuuper stuck, so I went ahead and wrote the whole lab scene at the end to motivate myself to fill in the gaps.

The exception is sex scenes-- I often write, uh, pretty long sex scenes, so sometimes I'll get bored of that and wander away to finish the rest of the fic and then come back to the sex scene after the fact. Finishing the sex scene is the only thing I have left to do for the CW/HW-era fic I mentioned as the first bulletpoint in this post at this point, lmao.

15, What are some of your favorite tropes to write? Do they match the ones you read?: Wellll obviously I love sex pollen and like, in general the idea of dubcon between characters that care about each other, so those are clearly ones that I both read and write, haha! Otherwise I love silly fandom tropes like truth serum, I love identity porn/secret identity drama, and genre-wise I love hurt/comfort!

Those all fall within the wheelhouse of things that I've already written or could definitely see myself writing, but I also find that I often get ideas for fics by thinking about tropes/scenarios that I DON'T like, examining why I don't like them, and inadvertently hitting on an idea for what could actually make them work for me! In Full Swing was an example of this because I'm not usually into Peter/Flash, but add in sex pollen and identity reveal drama and welp, there I am writing a 13k fic, haha. The young!Tony bulletpoint on the post I linked above is another example of this, since it came about from me thinking about how I tooootally am not into high school/same-age AUs for Starker because what's the point if there's not an immense age-gap to complicate everything, and then I was like:

25, Freebie!: I'll do 3, about what's next on my list to complete! I have two backburner fics that I'm writing on right now when I get stuck on/sick of YNYD, so one of those is probably what will come along next between chaps of YNYD: one's the CW/HC-era fic I already mentioned, and the other's the identity porn fic I mentioned in the same post, where Iron Man and Spider-man are both anonymous heroes, Peter is into his boss Tony, and Iron Man is semi-secretly into Spider-man. Spider-man and Iron Man have masked/identities-preserved sex while Peter's on the rebound from getting turned down by Tony, and then Things Get Complicated. 😇

As far as my next multichap project, it'll probably be the young!Tony fic? My vague plan is for three chapters, one each from young!Tony's, then Peter's, then Tony's perspective, but we'll see how it shakes out.

#asks #writin'#ask games #ynyd

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skellebonez · 3 years

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Hi! Your writing is so amazing!! Sorry for weird question, but how do you write? Do you make a plan? Divide on parts and then fill in? Or it just flows the way it is! How does the process go??

Not a weird question at all! AND THANK YOU!

I usually make a pretty rough summary of a few options for what a prompt gives me or, if I have an original idea I summarize it and write out a few short ideas for how I can go. Then I look at my summary and spend some time thinking over all the different ways it could go, imagining all the character interactions and looking into things I want to include if I need to do research for it.

If it's something with multiple chapters or OCs (like my NaNo project) I use an app on my phone called Mind Meister to mind map their connections and little details I need to keep in mind. I also have a document with timelines to make sure I put in tiny details in it in order so I remember where everyone is and when things happen. It may not even end up factoring into the story, but I know for myself!

For the most part I kinda pants it (writing as I go), for everything. I don't like having a 100% set outline, you never know when you're going to have a better idea or if a character feels like they'd do something else or someone suggests something that just makes much more sense to you.

And for one shots I try to write in one go, trying to finish as much of it as i can in 1-3 sittings at most, and for multi-chaps I commit the cardinal sin of writing everything out of order. I still have 4 chapters between the start and middle of my NaNo I haven't even touched yet, but I have written something set in season 3 already. I also try to have everything at least 3-4 chapters ahead of what I am actively posting at the very least so I have a buffer for if I get sick or stuck.

Hope this answers your questions alright!

#writing process

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thewriterowl · 3 years

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Do you have a standard writing process? Particularly with long fics? I start out plotting everything to some degree and then start writing but then usually what happens is I get too excited to share it so I start posting before I finish and then my mental health just kinda goes "and we're not finishing that"

Hello! Well I try to sort of do the same--that’s how I did it with Stars. But yeah, getting all the details out can burn you out quicker than what’s fair :/

So what I’ve sort of learned to do (especially coming out from What the Stars Let in, since that thing was nearly 500 pages in like three months) was the following:

1) I had major focus points already confirmed in my head: I knew Din and Luke would have an arranged marriage, I knew I wanted Luke to share his story to the Mandalorians, I wanted Luke to fight Dark Troopers, I wanted Din to have a moment or two of jealousy, I wanted there to be a “betrayal’ from Din, I wanted Luke to sacrifice himself by stopping and moving a cruiser, i wanted them to be separated, I wanted Din to have a moment facing darkness, and then I want them together. Besides a bare skeletal structor of a story (din and luke fall in love in an arranged marriage) i focused on story-points I wanted to see happen and made it a goal to get to one....and then get to another and it made me more excited for the plot point coming next rather than trying to rush to that ending.

2) For the scenes I was really excited about I wrote a rough draft instantly. I pretty much had a draft of Luke stopping the cruiser and then “dying” since chapter two because I knew I wanted that to happen. Same with the Dark Trooper chapter. Of course a lot of details were added or changed as the story progressed but i was able to really plan things because not only did I know I wanted those scenes, I had them written out so I could figure out how to foreshadow things in regards to them easier.

3) Although I am influenced by my readers and I try to keep things “Realistic” in the story (aka, why I didn’t turn Din dark though it was a temptation) I write what I want to read. This, of course, can hinder the writing process cause you’re putting a lot of extra love into it because, being honest, i want it to inspire others to write things like it so I can read something next so if it is not well received then it can be a bad sucker-punch...but I was just like, i gotta get these moments out there regardless of the response.

4) This isn’t the best advice...but I wrote when i wanted to...basically I am mostly working from home and in a job I loathe who has drained me of most all my happiness for the past three years and has used me something bad, but I’m shackled to them cause money. Well...I write on their time now (not on my work computer lol) so I sort of had this momentum of MASSIVE writer’s spite. “Oh, you’re gonna call me in to work on my day off AGAIN????? well, ok then...tomorrow from 8 till 5, I’m writing this space-dad fic and only answering some emails”. Maybe not risk your job for a fic...but i would recommend see if you can find some sort of spite to influence you case man, that stuff works maaagiiiic.

5) Push through the block but not necessarily in a way that burns you out. If you can’t write out the chapter you are currently on, then don’t. Skip five or more scenes ahead and just start there and then go back later and tie things in. You do not have to write your fic in chronological order, so don’t shackle yourself to it. You on a scene with Din and Luke talking about the Force, it’s needed and important, but eh, you’re not feeling it? Go on and write their love confession scene. Or their fight scene. Or something you actually DO wanna write. Go read fics, maybe go and talk to artists and writers about general things and chat. Talking to others about things, not necessarily in detail, can be huge.

6) Bringing in the things I’ve said before; this is not something you need to write chronological--so don’t. The writing can be a fun puzzle. Write the parts you want first (aka the corners as many start with as they do a puzzle) and then start connecting things. I found it a lot easier and a bit more fun to do that way.

7) If possible, and this can be hard, try to be a chapter a head of your updates. With a good chunk of Stars, I was like seven chapters ahead of myself. Not so much with this new one (and for sure not with Little Bird) but it sort of releases some worry and pressure off of you. If you have an idea for a fic, try to see if you can upload it once you have two or there chapters written (not edited, that can come as you get read to upload) and it makes you have a deadline but one that isn’t looming.

8) I also gave myself a deadline. I wanted to update at least once a week. This may not work for everyone, so it’s just about figuring out what works for you...but I think I would recommend you set up a realistic goal on how often you update.

9) Just focus on one chapter at a time as you upload. A multi-chap fic can be so easy to get lost in (I may not update some of my Avengers fic) and that’s fine. It’s disappointing and sad, for yourself, but it happens and it should not be a burden on you. You’re writing these things for fun and if it doesn’t work out, well sucks...but there was no harm or waste to it. Some free content just won’t get finished. Happens every day and it’s all good. You just take up the next wave of inspiration and try to get it finished.

10) Ensure you have fun and keep other fun projects available. That mental stuff loves to take away fun, passionate projects. it’s a miserable monster that just wants to suck you dry from it. Take yourself from the project on occasion and write a one shot (these things are miserably hard for me) and use it as an exercise. It challenges you in a different way, gets you to do something new, and can give you and your mental-monster some whiplash so that it can’t instantly take it away from you.

11) If you lose your hyper fixation/love for a pairing, don’t grip on to it for the sake of a fic. I love DinLuke now and I don’t see that changing anytime soon...but when/if it does, I’ll need to just step back and let it go and wait for it to hit in another wave later. Just enjoy the fandom as a fan and you should have a lot more joy and ease in taking part of projects that way.

Those are my little tidbits that’s helped me with stuff so far at least!

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bnha-mha-imagines · 4 years

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Secret Santa 2019!!!

So some of us creators participated in a secret santa, and I got the lovely Liz, @eraserheadsmanbun (by total coincidence, haha!), so here is the final gift for her :) It IS holiday themed, and though I struggled at first to write Aizawa--(I don’t think I’ve written him before?? hmm)--I really like how it turned out! As requested, I shoved fluff down this fic’s throat haha! I really hope you enjoy ;) Happy holidays Liz!! <3

Word Count: 2838

Warnings: Light cursing

The city was still as it tucked itself under a quiet blanket of snowfall. On the sidewalk, the snow seemed to glow in multi-colors as it reflected the lights of the sleeping city. Winter always brings out the beauty in everything; even in the concrete jungle, where winter is particularly cold and the people frigid and gray, beauty blossomed like snowdrops thawing in even the coldest of hearts.

You were always a fan of the juxtaposition of winter. How strange and miraculous was it that subfreezing weather left you feeling the warmest. Though, you wouldn’t lie, this particular night, Christmas Eve, felt endlessly frozen and devoid of any warmth. Walking the empty but well-lit streets, you sighed through your gloves in hopes that some of the warmth from your breath might reach your frosted fingertips.

Seeing the usually boisterous city so peaceful and motionless was almost startling. Yours was the only set of footprints in the fresh snow, and the snowflakes falling assured you that they would soon be hidden. Who would be out on such a late, chilly night like this one anyways? Surely everyone was tucked inside their homes behind frosted windows spending the holiday with their loved ones. Even now, the only reason you were out in the first place was to find any store still open in hopes that you could buy more eggnog for the party back at your work.

You could already feel the cold settling into your bones, something that was easily preventable if you had properly dressed yourself; however, in your rush out, you neglected to grab much winter wear, instead choosing to combat the cold night air with an ugly sweater, jingly elf hat, and striped candy cane stockings.

Shivering, you held your arms against your chest, hands tucked into your armpits as you tried to see past your foggy breath. Turning the corner, it was as if your prayers were answered when you finally spotted an LED neon sign flashing ‘open�� at you. The store was a tiny little thing, but you had faith in Christmas miracles, and knew in your heart that eggnog was soon to be in your possession.

You quicken your pace in an attempt to escape the cold sooner, though as you approach you halt momentarily. What you had first took for trash bags along the curb was a man sitting outside the store with his arms resting against his knees. The footprints leading up to him seemed already half covered by the snow, leaving you wondering how long he’d been sitting there.

Without moving his head, the gruff looking man raised his tired eyes to look at you; feeling embarrassed for being caught staring, you ducked your head slightly and walked past him into the store to carry on with your business. The slight jingle of the bell on your hat mixed with the one of the door, alerting the single store worker of your presence. “You must be crazy going out in this weather,” the cashier said, only looking up from their game of solitaire for a second to glance at you. “Nice outfit.” They cracked a small, tired smile, which you returned tenfold. Though your funny little get-up did poor to keep out the cold, seeing it was probably the highlight of the cashier's slow night.

“Thank you,” you said in good spirits before turning to look at the aisles. The store wasn’t much larger than a gas station convenience store, and you quickly found the frozen aisle. Walking down it, you were already beginning to feel warmer in the heated store. Scanning the refrigerators as you walked past, your eyes fell onto the festive drinks you’d been looking for. You reach in and grab two jugs of eggnog, bringing them up to the counter.

“Will this be all for you?” the cashier asked as he turned away from his game to scan your items. Glancing to your left at the rows of candies, you hesitated a moment before grabbing a candy cane and placing that onto the counter as well. After ringing up your items, you made sure to leave the man a tip as a gesture of kindness.

“Have a good night,” you called as you pushed your way back outside into the cold. The door jingled again before shutting softly behind you. Turning your head forward, you froze when you saw that the man from earlier was still sitting outside on the curb. The flashing lights of the neon open sign hit against his back and scarf in small veins of red and blue. After a moment of contemplation, you swallow the lump in your throat and slowly move toward the man.

The snow crunched softly underfoot as you stepped down from the curb, and you brush some snowflakes from your pants before sitting down beside the man. The man made no reaction to you; he didn’t turn his head, and no words escaped his mouth as you placed yourself next to him. Placing the bag of eggnog to the side, you tuck your knees to your chest and fold your hands around them. Following his gaze, you faced ahead and watch as the snow slowly falls to the earth like specks of glittering sugar.

“It’s beautiful,” you breathe out, the words misty and visible as they leave your lips. The man emits a low hum in response, never turning his eyes from the view in front of him. A comfortable silence falls onto the both of you as you watch the tiny ice crystals dance in the air. After a moment, you move one of your hands and reach into the bag next to you, retrieving the candy cane and extending it out to the man.

This time, he turns to look at you, and for the first time you get a good look at his face. His dark hair was longer, reaching down to be about shoulder length. He had a bit of stubble along his chin and above his lip, though you thought he wore it well. Some of his hair hung in front of his face, but through it you could see his eyes. The large scar beneath his right eye caught your attention for a second, but you didn’t stare at it. His eyes themselves were deep and dark, and though they looked tired, you could read the confused expression in them.

“For you,” you answered his silent question, pushing the candy cane a little closer toward him. After a few moments of stillness, he reaches one hand up, his fingers brushing against yours for a moment as he takes the offering from you.

You watched as he unwrapped one end of it, popping it into his mouth before leaning back onto his hands in a more relaxed posture. He turned his head back to stare straight out into the snowy streets of the city. Your fingers and toes were beginning to feel numb and sting. You really wish you brought more to wear with you.

“Why are you here?” the low voice startled you, and you looked at the side of his face with furrowed eyebrows.

“I’m sorry?” you asked, a little confused by what he meant.

The man sucked on the candy cane before repeating his question. “Why are you here? You clearly have someplace to be…” He turned his head slightly to look at you from the side of his eyes.

Shivering quite a bit, you offer him a soft smile. “Ah, you’re right. I should be back at the work holiday party right about now.” You don’t answer his question, not quite sure of the answer yourself.

The man in your company looked at you for a few moments, and if not for the chill of the air already affecting you, you would have felt a shiver run down your back. After observing you, the man spoke again. You found yourself quite liking his voice. “Perhaps you should head back, you’re all but shaking out of your boots.”

You feel your eyebrows knit upward, your chapped lips pursing. “Well what about you?” you asked. “Who would keep you company then?” At this, the man’s eyes narrowed a little. Before you could protest, he began to unravel the scarf from around his neck and plop in onto your shoulders.

“Why are you so stubborn? You’d really freeze outside for some stranger? You don’t even know my name.” Despite removing his scarf, the man next to you appeared indifferent to the cold.

Stunned at his actions, you blinked your eyes wide. After a few moments, you chuckled a little. “Well, thank you for this,” you smiled, tucking your chin into the scarf. Funny how your companion complained about you freezing for a stranger when he was doing exactly the same. “And though I don’t know your name, you’re no stranger...Eraserhead.”

At this, the man seemed to sit up straighter, surprised. You couldn’t help but smile a little at him, it was his biggest reaction to anything you’ve said so far. “I...wasn’t aware I was so recognizable,” he said flatly, and you couldn’t tell if he was surprised or disgruntled at you knowing him. Perhaps both.

You shrugged, rubbing your hands together to bring any kind of warmth to your hands. “Ah, well you weren’t at first. I only knew it was you, Eraserhead, when I sat down and saw you up close.” You turn to him, cheeks red in the frigid weather. “And, so that we’re even, my name is (Y/n).”

At your introduction, his face seemed to relax before he hummed lowly. “Well, we’re not exactly even. You don’t have to call me Eraserhead, Aizawa is fine.”

You nod your head at that, pleased. “Say, Aizawa, why are you sitting out here anyways? You didn’t have any plans for Christmas Eve?” You cock your head at him, the weight of the scarf already warming you up quite a bit.

Aizawa turns to look up at the dark sky, some of the white snowflakes getting tangled into his dark hair. “No,” he said plainly, not particularly concerned. “I don’t do big social events, so Christmas is no different.”

You feel your heart twinge a little at his words. Although he didn’t seem bothered by his situation, you couldn’t accept in your heart that anyone would want to be completely alone on a cold Christmas Eve such as this one. “In that case,” you began, “no one would be missing you if I invited you back to have some eggnog?”

Aizawa looked at you, an unreadable expression on his face. “Like I said, I don’t really do--”

You cut him off quickly. “You misunderstand me, I meant...just us. We could have some eggnog over dinner, and it’s warmer at my place than out here, I can promise you that.” Aizawa seemed frozen, staring at you as if he couldn’t believe you’d just invited him. Receiving no response from him for a while, you began to feel a bit nervous. Did you overstep? You cleared your throat. “O-Of course, you don’t have to, I just figured you might want...some company. Sorry, I didn’t mean to...”

You trail off as Aizawa shakes his head. “Don’t apologize, I just...I just don’t understand why you’re being so kind to me? We hardly know each other.”

You smile sheepishly at him. “You don’t have to know someone to be kind to them. Besides, you hardly know me and you gave me your scarf, didn’t you?” He seemed pensive at that, not answering. “I promise I’m a good cook, if that’s what your reservation is.”

Aizawa cleared his throat, but there was no mistaking the slight upturn of his lips. Despite his tired eyes, a twinkle of amusement flickered in them. “Well, why didn’t you say so earlier?” he smirked at you, causing a huge bloom of warmth to erupt in your chest. You hadn’t noticed it earlier but...he was rather attractive. Despite the ice frozen against your ass, you thanked the cold for hiding the blush on your cheeks.

You crack a smile at him, starting to push yourself back onto your feet. “I’ve convinced you then! Great. My apartment isn’t far from here.” You started to peel the scarf from your neck to return it, but Aizawa stands and stops you.

“Keep it for now,” he droned. “Unlike you, I remember to wear a coat when it snows.” Before you could retort, Aizawa reaches down and grabs the bag of eggnog for you, still sucking on the candy cane you gave him. By now the stripes were beginning to disappear. Being a man of few words, he looks at you with half lidded eyes and gives a slight nod of his head for you to lead the way.

The snow makes a satisfying sound as your feet press into it, and you lead your new addition back to your apartment. You occasionally make a light comment on the way, though you both seem comfortable enough with one another to walk in quiet and enjoy the peaceful ambience.

Unlocking the door to your one bedroom apartment, you flick on the lights and are immediately greeted with the colorful lights of your tree and various decorations around the house. Though it looked like a reindeer threw up Christmas all over your front room, Aizawa still gave a quiet “nice place” as he wiped the snow off his shoes.

Hanging up his wet scarf for him on the coat rack, you slip off your shoes and gesture to the various seats for him. “Feel free to sit and make yourself at home! I’ll get to making a quick dinner.”

Despite your offer, Aizawa follows you to the kitchen counter. “Allow me to help where you need me,” he said in his characteristically grumbly voice. Though the host in you wanted to treat your guest, you allowed him to help you cut some of the vegetables. Due to the unexpectedness of your guest, you were unprepared to make a traditionally festive meal, so you settle for soup. After spending so much time out in the cold, you knew it would hit the spot.

Moving the bowls to the coffee table, you set up a holiday movie and two heaping glasses of egg nog. Plopping down on the couch next to Aizawa, you throw a blanket over the two of you and settle in for a laid back evening. During the movie, you strike up pleasant conversations and learn a bit more about one another. You learn about his work as a teacher, and he even tells you how he got his scar. At one point he mentions that he's single, a mental note that you are more than happy to make.

By the time you’re talking through what must be the fourth or so movie, your bodies had gradually shifted closer to one another on the couch. By now it had gotten rather late, and it was becoming increasingly harder to keep the sleep from your voice. You lean into his side a little, eyelids heavy as you hum in response to him saying your name.

“I...don’t usually celebrate the winter holidays with anyone, and until now I’ve never minded that. But...thank you for the kindness you’ve shown me tonight. Surprisingly, I rather enjoyed spending the holiday with someone...with you.” Aizawa’s eyes shift to look at you as you let out a sleepy sigh, feeling your head gently start to fall onto him. Carefully, he lifts his arm and wraps it around the couch behind you, allowing you better access to rest your head more comfortably against him.

Exhaling, Aizawa brings his hand to your face and brushes some stray strands of hair from your face, tucking them behind your ear. Looking into your rosy, sleepy face, he feels a twinge in his chest. His eyes soften, and he knows immediately that you’re dangerous; he’d known you for only 6 hours and already he could feel himself falling for you faster than he’d ever fallen before. Since when did he get so soft?

With a light sigh at his own sentimentality, he cranes his head to press a chaste kiss against your temple before allowing his chin to rest against the top of your head. His tired eyes droop slightly as he watches your tree bask the room in a soft, rainbow light. After a moment, he rests his eyes, drifting off into the most comfortable sleep he’s had in a while.

Outside the frozen windows of the apartment, the snow continues to spiral down like tiny ballerinas. The glass is fogged slightly, a testimony to how frigid the world is outside. The night is consumed by the quiet, and the whole city holds its breath.

Two strangers find themselves alone together in the city, warm and cozy beside one another as the storm hails outside. Despite its cold appearance, winter always brings out the warmth and beauty in everything.

#secret santa #bnha x reader #mha x reader #aizawa shouta #aizawa x reader #bnha aizawa #merry christmas #happy holidays #secret santa 2019 #gift #bnha christmas #bnha secret santa

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stvlti · 3 years

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Fic Writer Interview

I piped up when @kiseiakhun did theirs so now I gotta pay for my hubris (but also, it's fun! Thanks for going out of your way to re-tag me!)

Name(s): stvlti (tumblr), stultiloquent (ao3)

Fandoms:

Actively writing for: DCU - comics and also related media, by which I mean of course Young Justice the cartoon and somehow also the Titans TV show. I never expected I'd write for a live action TV show series but hey, 2003 Teen Titans were my roots and Titans is a close relative. (Funnily enough I haven't actually seriously written for TT, but it's all about NTT and its derivative works)

Older fandoms on my AO3: Black Mirror: Bandersnatch, Noragami, Death Note

Where you post: AO3 is where I literally archive all my fics that see the light of day, drabbles and crackfics alike, but sometimes they get posted on Tumblr first (especially if it's to fill a prompt) and then make their way over to AO3 for reposting

Most popular multi-chap (by kudos):

Discounting "if you can't summon your own tentacles" (which is more a two-parter that was written as a one-shot), I don't have an answer for either "Overall" or "This year" for this one because I have in fact only ever written one (1) multichap fic since moving to AO3 (we don't talk about the dark days on Deviantart) and said multichap fic isn't even close to within the top 10 most kudos'd fic on my account. That plus it's an RPF from my teenaged years that I really don't wanna plug on main because I don't want y'all to read that shit (it's RPF, come on)

Favourite story you’ve written so far:

I can't answer for "Overall" (cause I feel like I'd be forgetting and therefore neglecting a portion of the stories I've got in my portfolio over the last 8 years), but for "This year" it is in fact my latest entry, "Transference"! I was quite proud of the comfort zones I tested with that one, I pushed myself to write more than 2 character povs for a single piece (my record had always been 2 but in that fic I was juggling 3 - almost 4 character perspectives), plus it gave me an excuse to play around with narrative structure which is always a Thing I'm nerdy about

Fic you were nervous to post:

Cool cool cool so I'm just gonna expose myself with this one, but it was actually the priest kink fic, "When I'm down on my knees you're how I pray". I wanted to contextualise Dick Grayson's guilt issues in a Catholic context as like a what-if, but I've also never been Catholic, wasn't raised Catholic, and it was somehow important to me that I didn't misrepresent the customs and rituals of Catholicism? Even though just writing the fic itself was already fundamentally disrespectful? Idk my brain works on weird logic.

btw if any of you wanna cancel me for this just block me and move on.

How do you choose your titles?:

The title is either based on the central theme / moral of the story, which will come to me as I write and is usually the case for fics I take more seriously, OR, if it's a ficlet I didn't put as much effort into and/or don't intend to show off, I'll usually pull from lyrics for a one liner that hits the emotional notes I'm going for in the story.

Do you outline?:

Almost always. The only fics I haven't outlined are spur of the moment things, stuff that's very focused on a single instance or thought without much plot or coordination needed.

Complete: 26 25 in total

not counting the ones I deleted or orphaned this year (again this number does not include my Deviantart stash shhhh those didn't happen)

In-progress: uh....3 4?

I'm kinda in between the research and planning stage for 3 different fics atm so idk if it's really in-progress in-progress... Those 3 fics aren't even set in stone, I might abandon them again like I did with one of these 3 (the dark academia au) 5 months ago (that I recently picked back up on the research front)

Yeah I forgot my Sladick fic is a 2-parter that I should probably work on and finish at some point 😬

Coming soon/not yet started: I think it's somewhere between 8 and 11

I just added 2 more to the list after Romin Week prompts dropped /sigh. But I really wanna test my comfort zone again and try writing the wilder stories for a change (it'll be fun though if I get around to it! Hopefully something BOP movieverse shaped if I'm lucky)

Prompts:

Sure, send them my way! I accept prompts, just can't guarantee I'll be able to respond speedily though cause I can't chain my muse to me and also real life happens, a lot

Upcoming work you’re most excited about:

Ooof idk if excited is the right word, try trepidation...I'm scared to mischaracterise our faves...but a BOP movieverse fic is probably going to be real fun! Just hope I can finish the research and writing in time for the event though

No-pressure tags:

See this is the real point of me asking to be tagged and filling this tag, cause I wanna pass it on to my writing mutuals in other fandoms. So @trans-l-lawliet @fantomn @mellonearyou @3dnygma , if you're listening,,,,

Also any other writerly friends or followers reading this and curious to try, please go ahead! Have fun with this!

#tag meme #long post #writerly tag

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starry-knight-skies · 4 years

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Title: Nonstop Ambition

Summary: New York was a place of new beginnings, especially to Roman Hamilton. After growing up with nothing, he found himself surrounded by new friends, new opportunities, and potential new love. He fought passionately for what he believed in, and found himself rising up and making something of himself. But enemies lurk around the corner and he’s faith in others may just end badly for him. Hamilton Au -coop story I’m writing with @fanatic-kay)

Chapter 3 Summary: Roman has always dreamed of rising through the ranks and making something of himself. However, after stealing British cannons in Battery Park, he's called to a meeting with the General and begins to have some doubts. -chap written by kay-

Chapter 2

Roman could recall his childhood days in poverty like it was yesterday. He spent hours upon hours reading books, dreaming up scenarios of being a part of something bigger than himself. He yearned to make his legacy, something loud that wouldn’t leave his name forgotten. He was more than willing to die in the name of sacrifice, but he was also prepared to work hard, climbing his way through the ranks until he reached the top. Ever since he moved to New York, his ambition only grew. That’s exactly how he found himself where he was now, a war trodden Battery Park.

Veronica and Remus were by his side, each holding their own respective muskets, firing and trying to hold their ground. There were casualties all around them, littering the field, fallen soldiers that were sure to be commemorated for their service and valor.

There were repeated booms from cannons, Roman could hear the clamoring of soldiers to his left before the vibrations from the contact of the cannonballs shook his core. He grunted in frustration, backing up a few steps.

“We’ll never win like this,” he called out to Veronica, firing another shot from his musket before expertly loading it again.

“I know! But what can we do?” She asked over the fray, not taking her eyes off of their enemies.

Remus grunted from the other side of him. “They have the better weapons, mon ami. Our muskets are nothing compared to their cannons.”

“That’s it!” He exclaimed, slowly backing into safer territory. His friends, though confused, followed suit, all three of them relaxing slightly.

“What’s it?” Veronica inquired, wiping sweat from her brow.

“Their weaponry, it gives them a huge advantage. We have to even out the playing field,” he points out, gesticulating wildly with a free hand.

Remus nodded along, “How will we do that?”

A wicked grin spread across Roman’s face as he quirked an eyebrow. “Let’s steal their cannons.”

They spent the evening planning, calculating the location of all twenty-four cannons in enemy territory and divvied up the troop into small groups. As night fell, they began to execute their plan.

The British had retreated to their ships in the harbor, the silence seemed deafening, all consuming after hearing the firing of weapons all day. The cool air nipped at their exposed skin, the moon being their only source of light to guide them.

Roman took up the rear, his musket at the ready. His friends were somewhere up ahead. A hundred soldiers snuck out to try to grab destiny by the horns. The quiet of the night was killed with the firing of firearms from the harbor.

He let out a series of curses, the British had been tipped off about the excursion. He didn’t have time to ponder the potential spies amongst his troops as he rushed forward, firing his own weapon. Several cannons had already crossed territories, making their way into the city for safe-keeping, but there were still many more to go.

In front of him, Roman could see Remus struggling with a cannon. “Lafayette!” He called out, running towards him. He pressed his gun against Remus. “I’ll take this, we need you on the frontline. Go!”

Remus nodded once, taking the weapon and rushing forward, firing like a madman at any redcoat he saw.

Grunting, Roman began his work, lugging the cannon towards the city. The work was strenuous, tedious even. Bullets whistled past him and he heard bodies thud against the ground, but he tried to tune it all out. The only thing on his mind was completing his objective.

He managed to pull it all the way into City Hall Park, only slightly out of breath. He pushed his stray hair back, out of his face. He looked over the amount of artillery weapons they had managed to get. There were at least fifteen cannons in total, not including some of the ones he had passed on the way. Roman waved away his thoughts, clearing his head before heading back towards the fray.

He practically ran into Remus, so focused on reaching the battlefield to fully comprehend his surroundings.

“Careful there, tomcat,” Remus said, grabbing his arm.

Roman broke out into a grin, eyes searching over his friend. “Where’s my gun?”

Remus looked as close to apologetic as he possibly could. “I had to leave it on the field when I was retreating.”

“Oh, that’s fine, I’ll get it,” Roman clasped his shoulder before casually walking into the field, paying no mind to the battle around him. He dodged a few stray bullets before he found his gun, scooping it up into his arms, as if it were his child.

By the time he had returned to the Frenchman’s side, Veronica had joined him. She looked at Roman incredulously. “If Logan were here, he’d berate the hell out of you.”

Roman smirked. “Well, it’s a good thing he isn’t here, then.”

The three walked back to City Park Hall, eager to see how well the raid went. They were pleased to find they had stolen twenty-one out of the twenty-four cannons. Roman was glowing, glad his plan had been executed so perfectly, despite the obstacles that came in their way. He knows he owed it all to his fellow comrades, but he was proud of himself, seeing it as one step closer to reaching his goal.

----

General Emile Washington was objectively the most powerful man in America. People of all statuses rushed to please him, falling at his feet or trying to become acquaintances, just to rise to fame and power. So naturally, when informed that the General wished to see him, Roman was restless with nervous energy. He took a deep breath, steeling his nerves as he willed his feet to move him forward through the hallway.

The office door was already ajar when he reached the end of the corridor. He hesitantly knocked on the doorframe as he stepped a couple of feet inside. “Your Excellency, you wanted to see me?”

“Ah, Hamilton, come in,” the General smiled politely at him, gesturing towards the other man in the room Roman had failed to notice earlier. “Have you met Burr?”

Logan’s eyes met his and he couldn’t help but smile, walking to stand next to his first ever friend, their shoulders brushing momentarily. “Yes, sir.”

“We keep meeting,” Logan supplied, sharing a knowing glance with him before clearing his throat to turn back towards General Washington. “As I was saying, sir, I look forward to seeing your strategy play out.”

“Burr?”

Logan practically snapped to attention, ready to soak up any word the General spoke. Roman only had the honor of seeing such an expression a few times. Logan hadn’t been very expressive since Roman had met him, however, he could still see the hope and light behind the usually stoic man’s eyes.

“Close the door on your way out,” Washington gave him a curt smile, dismissing him.

Roman felt Logan tense next to him. The light in his eyes had immediately diminished, but he kept his everlasting nonchalant facade. He swiftly left the room, closing the door with a quiet thud. Roman felt his own anxiety spike, scared for whatever fate the General would place on his shoulders.

“Please, have a seat,” the older man gestured to the chair across from his desk.

Roman all but scrambled to sit down, waiting with bated breath to hear what the General had in store for him. The silence between them stretched for what seemed like eons. He did his best to not squirm in place, though with the studying gaze the other man was giving him, the task was becoming increasingly difficult. Roman wished no disrespect on General Washington. He didn’t, necessarily, want to speak out of turn, but he found he couldn’t help himself.

“Have I done something wrong, sir?”

The General seemed to find the question amusing, shaking his head as he sat in his own chair across from Roman. “No, you haven’t.” He rummaged with some papers, putting them to the side as he continued to speak. “Your reputation precedes you, Hamilton. I heard of your plan in Battery Park, to steal British cannons. It was a clever strategy, the results were incredible.”

Roman beamed at the praise. “Thank you, sir.”

“I also heard, after that, Nathaniel Greene wanted to hire you, the position of aide-de-camp if I’m not mistaken, but you denied.” Washington said. “How come?”

“I didn’t come to America to be a secretary,” Roman scoffed, crossing his arms in front of his chest. He recalled politely declining Greene’s offer, he would be damned if he spent the war behind some desk instead of being on the battlefield.

Washington gave him a once over, “Now, why are you upset?”

“I’m not,” he stubbornly denied, trying to cover up his pout.

“It’s alright,” the General assured him with a small smile. “You have drive, a determination that rivals most young men I’ve met. You yearn for being on the frontlines. You remind me of myself, when I was younger, dreaming for the day you would sacrifice yourself for the greater good… not knowing you would be taking the easy way out.”

Roman shifted uncomfortably in his seat, waiting for him to continue.

“Everyday we get closer and closer to defeat. We lack the people, the weapons, the supplies that are needed, and I’m working with a third of what our Congress has promised. I’ll be honest, I’m wearing thin, I can’t possibly succeed doing all of these duties myself. I require assistance, someone like you to share the burden of my tasks,” Washington looked to him, the question present in his eyes. “So…?”

Roman’s mind stuttered at the offer. His eyes widened as he tried to process what the General had said. It was an opportunity of a lifetime, one that had come knocking at his door. Working next to General Emile Washington himself, most could only dream. He could not throw away this shot.

“Yes,” he breathed out. “Yes, sir, I’d be honored.”

“Son, this will be no easy task,” Washington warned. “Britain has the upperhand, in every way possible.”

Roman shook his head, determined. “We can take it back, use the element of surprise in our favor, send soldiers undercover, people we can trust to give us valuable intel. I’ll write to Congress, get our weapons and supplies.” He gestured with his hand as he spoke, barely stopping to catch his breath. “We’ll also need more help. I have a couple of friends, Veronica Laurens and Remus de Lafayette, they’re both extremely skilled at what they do. They can help bring us to victory, to our new nation.”

His mind was racing, formulating plans and strategies, planning his letters to the government. He looked up, grinning confidently at Washington. “You won’t regret this, sir,” Roman promised.

“No,” the General smiled. “I don’t think I will.”

----

Taglist: @amintyworld @dunebugger @brain-deadx0 @mtgsaske @potentially-a-human @viana-dascolli @octobergothyc @a-deceit-salad @lulahood

#roman sanders #remus sanders #logan sanders #emile picani #veronica clarke #prinxiety #it's endgame so I'm tagging it #hamilton au

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homespork-review · 4 years

Text

Homespork Act 3: Insane Mindscrew Haymakers (Part 1)

BRIGHT: Before Act 3 proper starts, we see a message from Nanna to John, written in the front of the Sassacre’s joke book from Dad’s safe. The message is somewhat bizarre. For one thing, according to Nanna, the book it’s written in will end its journey on the day she dies...and still carry on for a while. For another, it talks about game elements we’ve encountered already, and hints at more to come. Overall it’s a nice bit of detail, enough to whet the reader’s interest.

You are no doubt reading this as a handsome and strapping young man! Why, the mangrit needed to lift the book is itself a sign of your maturity, not even to speak of the wisdom needed to grasp the nuance of Sassacre's time-tested mischief. I am so proud of you, grandson! How I wish I could have delivered this heirloom to you in the flesh. But I am afraid it wasn't in the cards! For you see, John, like you, this book must yet take a journey! Its journey will end on the Final Day of my life, and even then will continue some. Though I suppose that will be up to your Father. Perhaps he will discuss it with you one day, when he and you are ready. But it is your journey I am writing about to wish you luck! There will come a day when you will be thrust into another world. And once you arrive, that is only the beginning! You will soon delve even deeper into a realm of Warring Royalty in a Timeless Expanse. A realm of Agents and Exiles and Consorts and Kernelsprites. Of toiling Underlings and slumbering Denizens. A realm where four will gather, the Heir of Breath and Seer of Light, the Knight of Time and Witch of Space, and together they will Ascend. John, if only you knew how important you were! I regret my passing came so early in your life. And yet I feel in my heart we have already met. But what I know for sure is that we will meet again! Until then, John, I do hope your Father keeps you well fed!

FAILURE ARTIST: As I said earlier, Hussie has artfully defaced books, including one antique one about an expedition around the world. Defaced books show up again in this comic.

CHEL: Particularly, it implies that Nanna also had knowledge of the game during her lifetime, somehow, and refers to the gathering of four heroes. This is our first introduction to the classpect system, which now rivals Hogwarts houses as a method of personality description in fandom at large. I think at the time I didn’t realise who it was referring to… Anyway.

Next, we officially meet GG, the fourth and final member of our gang, a “silly girl” with a cheery grin, sleeping in a greenhouse full of vegetables and spirograph-shaped flowers. Since she’s sleeping and can’t object, she’s referred to for a while as FARMSTINK BUTTLASS, but she’s way ahead of us; under her hand is a note admonishing the reader and declaring her actual name to be Jade Harley. I think she’s the cutest of the kids, myself - just seeing her first appearance makes me happy! All its weaknesses aside, Homestuck’s pretty great at creating painfully cute character designs and attaching a good range of personalities to them.

FAILURE ARTIST: Jade Harley was considered a “Mary Sue” when she was first introduced. I don’t know why. Yeah, she has a lot of eccentricities and unusual possessions but so do the other characters.

Farmstink is a reference to an old comic Hussie did about this dude obsessed with the stink of farms. Hussie’s early work is really weird.

CHEL: The reader attempts to wake Jade by dropping a pumpkin carved with an animal’s face on her head, but the pumpkin disappears; as we know, WV now has it. Fortunately for the pacing, Jade wakes up on her own. Look closely, and you’ll notice the symbol on her shirt changes each page; that turns out a bit later to be due to her hi-tech WARDROBIFIER. If I recall correctly, Hussie intended to settle on one chosen by reader vote, but ended up on a cycle of three different ones.

FAILURE ARTIST: Jade settles on three icons to appear on her shirt. However, eventually just one icon stays on her shirt. The WARDROBIFIER doesn’t get much use with her, though a later character has the same thing.

CHEL: Jade is also wearing COLORFUL REMINDERS on her fingers, and when the view pans out it’s revealed by the view from the window that her GARDEN ATRIUM is on a high floor. She plays the flute badly for a while in a Flash game; apparently it’s not her preferred instrument. Also fortunately for the pacing, we think, she knows how to use her sylladex, and prefers to set its retrieval function in the form of a memory game because you seem to have a knack for always guessing right on the first try! On checking her reminders, she remembers to wish John happy birthday, gathers some fruit, and heads upstairs by means of a teleporter.

Jade’s bedroom proves to be full of various disturbing-looking plushies, albeit not nearly as disturbing as the Smuppets, hanging baskets and potted plants, a bass guitar, and G-rated furry artwork, including a piece obviously drawn by Dave. Franchises depicted in her toy and poster collections include GREEN SLIME GHOST (the apparent copyright-friendly source of John’s T-shirt and pogo ride), MANTHRO CHAPS (mustachioed human faces on plush animal bodies), and SQUIDDLES (adorable octopi with magnets in their bellies which stick together as Tangle Buddies!). Her favoured weapons are rifles, though she would never shoot an animal, and she has various gadgets on a worktable, including a thing that looks like a disconnected window not unlike those shown in Rose’s book, which she apparently hasn’t been able to get to work.

FAILURE ARTIST: Manthro Chaps is a reference to Hussie’s particularly disturbing set of comics where he plays around with anthropomorphization. Like having an anthro chicken man lay anthro eggs.

CHEL: The comic in question, Humanimals, can be found here; warnings for extreme body horror and general grossness.

FAILURE ARTIST: Jade is told by a forum prompter to Lose interest in fauna and never speak of it again. Jade refuses to in a beautiful little speech but she denies she’s a furry. Oh, if she only knew what was coming for her.

Jade looks out the window and we find out she lives somewhere next to a volcano.

CHEL: The very same one which appeared in the animation at the end of the last act, in fact.

Your grandfather is a WORLD RENOWNED EXPLORER-NATURALIST-TREASURE HUNTER-ARCHEOLOGIST-SCIENTIST-ADVENTURER-BIG GAME HUNTER-BILLIONAIRE EXTRAORDINAIRE. He has taught you everything you know.

Grandpa is heavily coded here and in his appearance a bit later as a Great White Hunter, an upper-class European guy who goes to faraway countries in order to shoot the animals there. Of course, non-white people can certainly do that, but white is what people will immediately picture upon seeing the trope. Also note we have another ridiculously wealthy family here. Since all four of the kids have now been introduced and we’ve had a lot of WSP points from their races and financial statuses already, here we get another HOW NOT TO point as well.

The Country Club Here every single character is white and middle-to-upper class. Unless your novel is taking place in rural Sweden, this will eventually give the reader the eerie feeling that some form of ethnic cleansing has taken place. HOW NOT TO WRITE A WEBCOMIC: 14 WHITE SBURB POSTMODERNISM: 7

One could argue that some form of ethnic cleansing is taking place, since these are the kids who are surviving the apocalypse, though that’s not actually fair because there are plenty of other SBurb sessions all across the world which might also succeed.

Jade opens her GADGET CHEST and produces several more items pertaining to her interests, including her computer, which she keeps in a Squiddles lunchbox. Several fortune-telling items are included among them, but according to Jade they are not the source of her abilities. The Magic 8-Ball is apparently usually wrong, responding to being asked whether it’s John’s birthday today with NOT EXACTLY, and the Magic Cue Ball is supposedly always right but is impossible to read, making it completely useless.

FAILURE ARTIST: There’s another Problem Sleuth reference (or rather Problem Sooth) but what’s important is the Magic Cue Ball. Unlike her Magic 8-Ball, it has no window where one can read the prediction. If only Jade had a special vision. Perhaps an eightfold vision.

Jade goes to feed BEC. She has some sylladex trouble until she finally just takes a steak out of her fridge.

CHEL: Once again, the sylladex shenanigans waste several pages.

GET ON WITH IT!: 9

Bec’s identity is as yet unknown, but recall that Dave called him a “devilbeast” in an earlier conversation, and when he suggested shooting Bec Jade said she didn’t think she could if she tried. He also apparently eats nothing but steaks (lucky Grandpa’s a billionaire), so Jade is living on an island with apparently minimal supervision from her guardian and an allegedly dangerous carnivore running wild outside. Like Dave, at this point it seems to be very lucky she’s a cartoon character.

FAILURE ARTIST: Using a special oven she irradiates the steak. Umm, I think Bec can take that but I worry about Jade.

Jade finds and plays her elaborate bass and she’s much better at it than with the flute. During the flash, the camera pulls out and we find out where she lives: in a tower on a small volcanic island with a frog temple in the lagoon. An airplane goes by and drops a package.

Jade uses her super high-tech “lunchtop” to have a conversation with John. Nothing special about that but we see on her chumroll a bunch of unfamiliar handles. Hmm.

CHEL: The unfamiliar handles are listed in the “Trollslum”, which one presumes is a blocklist. I think you have to see just how hi-tech the lunchtop is:

"Jade: Get down to business." (Watch on YouTube)

Hussie’s really coming into his own with the animations by now.

FAILURE ARTIST: Dave has sent her some messages begging her to wake up and unfortunately one line has the f-slur in it.

CLOCKWORK PROBLEMATYKKS: 7

In the end, he decides she’ll probably forget what he says.

CHEL: Begging her to wake up” doesn’t exactly cover it.

TG: youre asleep again arent you TG: or do you even know if you are TG: i still dont know how that works TG: its like nothing means anything

Apparently Jade sometimes talks to him while she’s sleeping.

FAILURE ARTIST: There’s a little flash where you can listen to some of Dave’s tunes. When you’re done with that, you can join her in looking at mspadventures.com. A crude John wearing a wizard hat is sitting on his lawn with the caption

It begins to dawn on you that everything you just did may have been a colossal waste of time.

What the hell is going on here? Is Jade reading what John is doing right now?

CHEL: I think it’s just a fourth wall joke, but it’s certainly accurate, considering our GET ON WITH IT count.

FAILURE ARTIST: Next, we get this flash called Midnight Crew: Act 1031. If you are watching it in 2019, the song playing is Dead Shuffle by Mark Hadley. However, the song was originally Nightlife by Bill Bolin. Unfortunately, Bolin had a dispute with Hussie over Hussie using music that Bolin considered WIP. Bolin blew up and called Hussie “unprofessional” and in a very professional move posted a photo of himself giving the double deuce. It’s a shame this happened since Nightlife is a jauntier and more appropriate tune.

CHEL: The Midnight Crew, to be specific, are gangsters with card-themed names who bear a striking resemblance to WV, living in a mysterious purple city full of towers, pitted against the Felt, another gang of odd-looking green fellows who wear bowler hats with numbers on them, in the colour schemes of a set of pool balls.

Hussie did make reference in the previous page to a “weird tangential intermission [which] clearly advanced the plot in no way whatsoever”, implying that it actually is relevant, and the purple city and its shiny black beady-eyed inhabitants look very familiar, but since as far as we know at this point the Midnight Crew is just a comic-within-a-comic, you know which counts get added to.

GET ON WITH IT!: 10 WHAT IS HAPPENING??: 2

Just for the record, the leader of the gang is named Spades Slick, and yes, we’re aware that “spade” is a slur against black people, which makes it slightly unfortunate to be applied as a name to a black-shelled alien creature. However, we’re not counting that as PROBLEMATYKKS because Hussie and the Crew’s original writer certainly did not intend that. It’s not that commonly used a term from what I’ve seen, the playing cards would be the more likely immediate association, and with the other characters being Clubs Deuce, Hearts Boxcars, and Diamonds Droog, it’s just an unfortunate coincidence. If he was a black human, then I’d object more strenuously.

FAILURE ARTIST: Jade talks with Dave (I think the conversation is a repeat?)

CHEL: Yep.

GET ON WITH IT!: 11

FAILURE ARTIST: Finally, we get the flash we’ve been waiting for: Dave strifes with his mysterious guardian. Or rather, he strifes with Lil Cal while Bro is a speed blur.

BRIGHT: Unlike the other strifes up to this point, the reader can’t do anything other than watch, because Bro slices the command box in half right at the start.

TIER: In the world of Homestuck, the parental units are overall just really weird! Like dad Egbert severe overabundance of cakes and mom Lalonde's drunken dysfunction. It's overall all hilarious, fitting with the tone and humor of the story well!

But then we have our lovely outlier. The one, the hated, The. Bro “a huge bastard honestly” Strider! A.K.A basically the one guardian whose questionable parenting gets the Real Consequences treatment later on in this tale. Peculiar that.

CHEL: Now, under most circumstances, an adult man beating the hell out of a barely-teenage kid, on the precarious rooftop of a high-rise building no less, would be horrifying. However, Bro chooses to hit Dave with his puppet, which… is frankly hard to take seriously. Obviously it would still hurt if a real person did that, but it looks so stupid that the immediate assumption is that it’s a joke.

BRIGHT: Particularly when earlier strife moves like Rose’s ‘Empty Suicide Threat’ were intended to be humorous. This is about on the same level as that, in terms of severity!

TIER: Being smacked around by the flopping noodle limbs of a freaky puppet is honestly hard to take seriously. Hell, this entire sequence is chock full of outlandish “Rule of Cool” bullshit and I am Peeved that I was apparently supposed to look at this sequence of ridiculous events and go “OBVIOUSLY THIS IS FUCKED UP AND ABUSIVE”.

ARE YOU TRYING TO BE FUNNY?: 7

CHEL: I could kinda see that with hindsight from the rest of the comic, but definitely not “OBVIOUSLY THIS IS A LOT MORE FUCKED UP AND ABUSIVE THAN THE OTHER AWFUL FAMILY CIRCUMSTANCES”, which is what was apparently intended. And we also get another HOW NOT TO point, which we’ll give now even though the official “reveal” comes much later.

A Novel Called It - wherein an abusive parent exists Bad parents are everywhere in unpublished fiction. Whole cities of abusive fathers and sneering mothers live in the pages of books that can’t be sold. While occasionally, and notably in the horror genre, this sort of material can be made good (Carrie, V. C. Andrews), most cruel parents in fiction are just as much fun as they are in real life. HOW NOT TO WRITE A WEBCOMIC: 14

That damn puppet gets creepier every time, admittedly, more so now that Bro is moving so fast that the thing appears to be dancing on Dave’s head under its own power. Dave’s expressions look more annoyed than afraid or hurt, however, in my opinion.

FAILURE ARTIST: Anyway, we go back to Jade. Rose is pestering her.

TT: I require a font of frighteningly accurate yet infuriatingly nonspecific information. TT: Do you know where I can find a wellspring of this sort?

Very business-like, isn’t it? Rose and Jade’s relationship is a big missed opportunity in this comic. They’re more like friends-of-friends than friends.

CHEL: I don’t know, that sounds to me like how Rose talks to the boys too; facetiously formal. Still, they don’t converse nearly as much as the boys do with each other or them. Male writers in particular tend to do this, and it’s not entirely their faults. People are socialised to think women talk a lot more than they do, so he probably didn’t notice.

TIER: A real shame honestly, we were fucking robbed of some peak interactions between a sunshine flower child and a “dark and brooding” baby goth. Fucking. Robbed.

FAILURE ARTIST: We find out that Jade was the one who had the idea of playing Sburb. She had told Rose that the game would answer some of Rose’s unnamed questions. Rose wants more information on this Big Day. Jade says the game will not be what Rose thinks it is and will answer questions Rose hasn’t thought of yet. On that mysterious note, Jade says goodbye.

CHEL: We check in briefly with Rose in the present, confirming that she’s found the secret passage and is escaping the fire, bringing the corpse of her cat along with her, then to John, who is doing much worse. The ogres (the giant tusked imps) have cornered him, and while he flails frantically about with his Pogo Hammer it doesn’t do much good. They beat the snot out of him with the old Sassacre book and the tire swing, then send him flying into the abyss; fortunately, Nannasprite is able to catch him on his bed and provide healing, allowing him to flail uselessly at the ogres again and get beaten up again, ad infinitum.

Back in the desert, a giant worm-like creature emerges from PM’s bunker and chows down on the cart full of mailboxes. PM is displeased, and puts a hand on the hilt of an ornate black sword.

Cut back to the FAQ, which John has found time to edit with information about the punch card system. He doesn’t know if anyone is left alive to play the game, but Rose asked him to add to it, so he will. He’s figured out with his 133t h4x0r 5k1llz that the captcha code on the back of the cards is converted into a binary-based pattern on the cards, 0 being blank and 1 being a punched hole. Overlapping the cards functions like a bitwise AND operation, causing both to be enacted. The 48-hole card system allows for 300 trillion combinations, but John lampshades the fact that this couldn’t possibly cover every conceivable captchable item, and that various combinations of overlapping cards would just produce the same combination. This is just adding to my conviction that the system ought to be reworked; the totems alone would probably allow for a much wider range, if one gets down to the atomic level of their shape. Then again, those would be a lot harder to merge… Still, I’m sure there’s some way to work it.

BRIGHT: This section was kind of surprising to me because up to this point we haven’t had much if any description of John being into coding, so the section came out of left field somewhat. Not bad, necessarily, just jarring.

CHEL: Actually, he did mention in his intro that he likes to program, albeit not very well, he had some coding books on his shelves, and the icons on his computer are named in a way which implies they’re some of his attempts at coding. However, this interest never really comes up again later that I remember.

Meanwhile, the secret passage Rose followed led to her mother’s laboratory, which bears the logo “SN” with a stylised atom and a spirograph pattern in the loops of the S. It seems Mom Lalonde knows more than she’s letting on about the game. Inside the laboratory is an enormous HUBGRID of devices into which the laptop can be plugged.

FAILURE ARTIST: Rose uses that ol’ r-slur when she says she won’t go on the pad so that’s another point.

CLOCKWORK PROBLEMATYKKS: 8

CHEL: Jade uses the TRANSPORTALIZER to travel most of the way down to the ground floor, but not all the way down because the one on that floor is blocked. As she walks down the last couple of flights of stairs, we see Grandpa’s own collections of stuff; taxidermised animal heads, suits of armour, mummified corpses (made by pasting in photographs to the cartoon background, it’s creepy as hell), and his BLUE BEAUTIES, or the DAUGHTERS OF ECLECTICA; sun-bleached portrait photographs of beautiful women. On the final floor, we are confronted with the thing blocking the final portal; a gigantic preserved monster with a white head and green serpentine body. It took me till just now to figure it out but I think the white part is supposed to be a human torso on the snake tail; at first it just looked like a snake wearing a stocking mask. That’s what happens when the humans don’t have arms.

Jade thought she had logged off from Pesterchum, but suddenly it pings again, and here we are introduced to an entirely new section of the cast. We’re probably not spoiling anything by not being mysterious about them at this point in the fandom’s history, but just in case, we’ll stick to doing the reveals when the comic does. The person talking to Jade is one of the names from her TROLLSLUM, under the handle carcinoGeneticist; they gloat about being “BETTER AND SMARTER THAN YOU, FOREVER” when asked how they’re still contacting Jade after being blocked, and mock her about today being “FINALLY THE DAY YOU FUCK EVERYTHING UP”. Angry, Jade blocks them again.

FAILURE ARTIST: I had forgotten that “they” appeared so early.

CHEL: Well, “appear” is stretching it; the TROLLSLUM only make contact through Pesterchum for a while yet. And when they show up, we’ll have both plenty of skilfully-written points to pick out and plenty of counts to apply.

#Homespork #homestuck #literary critique #sporking #Let's read #let's read homestuck #homestuck let's read #homestuck review #homestuck meta #homestuck reread

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whumpywhumper · 5 years

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Oryn--Part 3

@castielamigos asked me for more Oryn so I’m delivering since I already had it written :) I have the next part written as well, and I might go ahead and post it later today. As always, @0idril0 has read over these and given her expert opinion. This one was an earlier written work so I don’t know if I like it as much but oh well

Find Part One and Two at their respective links

I’m still writing on my other prompts from BTHB, don’t worry, I haven’t forgotten you! It’s just been very busy in real life. Please reblog or comment, your feedback gives me life :)

Oryn’s fingers twitched against his palm when he woke, sending a vague jolt of pain through his inflamed wrist. The agony that he had become accustomed to was muted, but he felt an absent anxiety start thrumming in his chest at how far away and heavy his body felt.

Small, shallow, whistling breaths gasped down his dry throat, and he struggled to get enough air into his wheezing chest. Each breath made his ribs ache with a fierce agony when they expanded, the broken edges of the bones grinding together in bright burst that brought him closer to consciousness. Oryn tried to access the comfort of his magic and wanted to weep at the block that stood firm, biting at his reaching fingers. He was too weak to work past the magic that Soren had branded into him. Locking away what little the rune encrusted cuffs had allowed.

A brief memory of reaching that power passed over him, like silk blown by a gusted breeze, but it was gone as quickly as it came.

He lay on something soft, and he felt the scratchy warmth of a blanket covering his naked torso. Surprise tried to touch his faraway cocoon. The last he remembered, he had been chained upright on a metal tilted table, his arms strapped above his head and his ankles unable to move. The ever present cold metal cuffs weren’t biting into his wrists or ankles, but he still felt tight, hard wraps around his wrists. Was he still restrained? Oryn doubted he could lift his hands let alone run away. Maybe the cuffs just weren’t necessary anymore.

A hard shiver rolled through him despite the warmth of the blanket and the heat radiating from his face and skin. A deep ache permeated his joints, and he trembled as sounds of movement and metal tools clinking together drew his hazy attention. He wasn’t alone.

“Soren…”, he thought, too weak and drug addled to summon his usual fear. He didn’t try to open his eyes—didn’t want to draw attention to himself—didn’t want the pain to come back. He drifted on the verge of consciousness. Quiet in his distress.

Even laying unmoving on the cot, his tortured muscles protested. As the minutes passed, each uncontrolled quiver and twitch kept him from sleep. Every inch of him hurt, a marinade of pain and cruelty.

Oryn’s breath hitched when he heard a thump and quiet voice curse off to his side. His cloudy thoughts didn’t place the voice as Soren, but he had had many people in the chamber “care” for him when the sorcerer left. The hitched breath became a rough cough as his throat rebelled against the harsh intake of air in his abused airway. He whimpered at a fresh wave of pain and tried to draw air past the new wet crackle in his throat.

A quick shuffle of feet and thick calloused hands slid under his neck and shoulders. He flinched at the sudden touch, but the hands were gentle and raised him to breathe easier. The movement put new pressure on the before unnoticed bandages around his stomach and he groaned in the back of his throat.

“Easy there, lad.” The man rumbled, above a whisper. “You’ve had a tough road of it, haven’t you?”

His terror mounted at having this stranger so close to him, and Oryn struggled to open his eyes, disoriented and confused by his body’s reaction to the change in elevation. Blinking his heavy eyelids, the Fae swallowed, his throat clicking as he tried to focus on his surroundings. The chamber was dark and the single candle lit behind his caretaker’s back did not illuminate the room. Black shadow enveloped the man’s face, and Oryn tried to pull away, managing a small jerk of his head. At any other time, he would have been mortified at the terrified whine that squeezed its way from his throat but his pride had long since abandoned him. Fear coiled in his gut at this new unknown threat and his rapid heartbeat cleared the remaining drugs from his system. The pain was brought into sharp relief, and he struggled to pull in quick panicked breaths.

“Easy, easy, easy,” the man soothed, “I know it hurts.” The hands bracing him shifted and something soft replaced them to prop him up. Yellow eyes didn’t leave the caretaker’s shadowed face as he shuffled and clinked glassware on a low table. Oryn couldn’t focus to try and see his face but the dim candlelight outlined the man’s slight shoulders and the sinewy muscle in the man’s arms.

The flickering flame bounced from the long metal tool the man used on the table, and Oryn’s sight blurred as panic thrummed under his sternum. No more tools, no more metal, no no no. He gasped. Short intakes of breath into his tight chest. He couldn’t breathe. Fuck. He couldn’t breathe.

“Hey, hey, hey,” the caretaker said, tapping Oryn’s cheeks, “look at me! Look!”

The distressed Fae tried to look at the man hovering above him. He didn’t want to be hurt for not obeying. It was a simple thing to ask, he could do that, right? He could look. He didn’t have to hurt. The tool didn’t have to touch him. His body thrummed with panic. Eyes refusing to focus. He struggled to concentrate on the indistinct shape of the man in front of him.

“That’s it, hey,” the stranger said, evidently pleased with his attempt. “Nothing is going to hurt you. Breathe with me, c’mon.” He started taking slow exaggerated breaths that Oryn tried to copy. “Just breathe, there you go.”

His breaths slowed, after several minutes of coaxing, and exhaustion crept over his wounded body. Adrenaline poured like syrup from his pores as his panic faded. Yellow, dazed eyes slipped closed.

“Don’t go to sleep yet,” the low voice said, rough hand tapping his cheek again. Oryn whimpered softly. “I know you’re tired, you only have to drink this. I promise, it will all stop.”

Oryn gasped at the phrase, Soren’s voice echoing in his head, his heart thudding a hollow beat in his chest. His eye lids fluttered against his body’s need for rest, and he ticked his head to the side. “No,” he croaked, wheezing breaths crawling down his throat, “please. . . don’t. . . no more . . c-an’t.”

The man hushed him, “shhh shhh shhh,” his rough hand smoothed over his terrified charge’s forehead and through his hair. “No more,” he whispered softly, a strange choked quality to his voice. “I promise, this isn’t going to hurt.” The caretaker lifted the dark head and something solid and cold pressed against his chapped lips, “Drink this, slowly now.”

Cold, bitter liquid poured into his mouth in slow, tiny sips. Oryn sighed as the liquid soothed his sore throat and mouth. The rough hands were gentle and comforting as they helped him drink, and Oryn’s eyes became impossible to keep open as the pain receded in gentle waves.

#Oryn #my oc's #my writing #whump #care taking #unknown caretaker #weak whumpee #aftermath of injury #beginnings of fever #delirious

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myotomespace · 5 years

Text

Canon divergence - Edgar bad ends: This is my fault!

Hello innocent souls of the IkeRev fandom! I’m here today to drag some people down this hell! Welcome and enjoy your trip there lol!

Honestly i have no confidence in my writing but i hope i can break some hearts just like i did to mine. ;w;

Anyway, THIS CONTAINS LOTS OF EDGAR’S ROUTE SPOILERS!!! it’s based on the +2 romantic options.

word count: 801

Warning: Spoilers for chap 18 / 19 and His POV 18

Tagging: @edgarbright for being with me when i first stepped into this hell and for encouraging me to actually start write this :3 / @littlelady-blackwell for being my victim reading the beta :)

After telling Luka -his only hope- about Alice’s whereabouts and getting him to go save her, the only thing Edgar could do is wait.

But…

Luka didn’t find Alice where Edgar told him she would be. Is she still a bit ahead?or is she at black headquarters already? He kept looking for her till he saw what looked like candy. Stepping closer to the colorful jewels, he reached for one and held it between his fingers.

Hmm? This is a…. jelly bean. Ed’s favorite. What is it doing here?

It didn’t take long for Luka to reach the undesirable conclusion. Edgar warned him that a group of people was going after Alice. If she was nowhere in sight after he looked for her, and these jelly beans are thrown here haphazardly, it can only mean that he was too late and she was caught. He shook his head trying to dispel the bad thoughts.I should check headquarters too first...she might be already there.

******

Meanwhile, back at red headquarters, Edgar was staring at the ceiling of his room, waiting for news from the Jack of Spades, the argument he had with Alice earlier on repeat in his mind...

[“Does the ‘truth’ mean anything to you? I don’t even know you anymore.”

“Alice--”

(my truth is-- I lied to you, but I love you. I will never be able to repent enough for what i’ve done. Even if you run away from me-- i’ll never stop loving you.)

Drowning in a torrent of emotions, Edgar’s throat was too choked for words.

“Please, Edgar. Tell me ‘I wasn’t lying to you.’-- say ‘you can trust me!’”

(I-- I can’t say that. I’m a liar and a sinner. I don’t deserve your trust.)

“I’m-- sorry. I’m so sorry.”

Tears gathered in the corners of her eyes. His long, slender fingers reached hesitantly toward her, his hand moving on its own accord the moment he saw them.

“Don’t touch me.”

“Ah-- sorry.”

His hand froze. Brushing it aside, Alice turned her back on him and ran.

“____!”

It was the second time he called her by her real name...and unbeknownst to him, it would be the last time he ever will...]

It hurts...this hurts...why did we end up like this? The image of tears streaming down her face, hurt and betrayal clear in her eyes, refused to leave his thoughts. He hurt her, he broke her heart...her sweet, innocent and pure heart that captivated him and attracted him to her, like moth to flames.

Edgar bit his bottom lip hard, making the slight cut he got earlier from the same action open and he found himself tasting his blood again. “Mm--”.

******

After what felt like an eternity -of course it would feel that long...he’s been waiting since he asked for Luka’s help this morning- a soldier knocked on his door, shaking Edgar from his daydreaming. Hearing the muttered “enter”, he opened the door and let himself in.

“Sir Edgar. We got the letter you told us to bring to you.”

“Ok. you may leave.” handing the letter to the Jack of hearts, he excused himself and left.

The moment Edgar was alone once again, his barely kept up composure left him, and he tore the envelope, hoping for good news from Luka, anything...just anything that could confirm that Alice is within safe walls.

Nothing could have prepared for what he found written.

No matter how many times he read it, the words just refused to make sense to him. Luka didn’t find her. She disappeared. The only thing that was keeping Edgar together was his hope that she would be back at the black barracks safe from the cruel outside world. But, now…

This is my fault. It’s all my fault.

They got their hands on her, and it was because of him.

Slowly sinking down to sit on his knees on the floor, Edgar let the letter escape his hand. He chuckled hollowly. Face torn with anguish, tears streaming down his face involuntarily. This is the first time he cried ever since he was little...

/////

[“Edgar,

I didn’t find Alice anywhere when i reached the place. I looked around everywhere, and asked about her in our headquarters. But she’s nowhere.

What is going on Ed? The black army won’t forgive you if anything happened to ____. I won’t forgive you!

Luka Clemence.”]

/////

This is his fault, and he deserves his descent into hell more than ever, for he ruined a pure angel and led her into her demise. An angel he loved with his whole heart.

While Edgar was cursing himself,...The magic tower disciples were gathered around their unconscious guest…

“Welcome to your new home, Alice the second...Our precious test subject.”...

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