#bellewrites
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Fandom: Stranger Things
Relationships: Robin Buckley/Nancy Wheeler, Robin Buckley & Steve Harrington
Rating: Teen
Word Count: 5,148
Summary: Nancy’s got her boxed up against the counter in Steve’s kitchen, the pizza that Robin had been shoving into her mouth now sitting smooshed against Robin’s back. It’ll probably stain, but Robin can’t think about that right now or there will be too many thoughts and she’ll explode. Her head will literally pop off. Boom. Bang. Gone. Dead not from the Mindflayer or Vecna but from girl-too-pretty disease. Or curse. This feels distinctly more like a curse. Girl-too-pretty curse. God, she’s a mess.
Or, the inherent homoeroticism of traumatized girl best friends.
#bellewrites#guess whos back back again#its me#and im obsessed w them#ronance#stranger things#robin buckley#nancy wheeler#fic#fanfiction
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decided to write a bit of the new fad, mud fiction! It's where you write a small Drabble (20-200 words) that depicts a scene with no context of any earlier events of the story. It is up to the reader to assume what happened, and ends up with interesting results
"Scanners indicate that you are: highly intoxicated. Sleep and water is much advised." The bot chirped, but she didn't seem to listen. "I'll be FINE!" The woman slurred. "As long as those god dang flowers don't start screamin' again this'll be just SPEC-TAC-U-LAR!" She held the hot sauce bottle into the air. "TO VICTORY!"
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My Everything
read it on the AO3 at https://ift.tt/2PoTUqY
by BelleWrites (sunleyemrys)
Words: 429, Chapters: 1/1, Language: English
Series: Part 6 of Champions Twins AU
Fandoms: Dragon Age - All Media Types
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Major Character Death
Categories: M/M
Characters: Male Hawke, Garrett Hawke, Anders
Relationships: Hawke/Anders, Male Hawke/Anders, Garrett/Anders
Additional Tags: angst to the extreme, Death, Feels
read it on the AO3 at https://ift.tt/2PoTUqY
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Hail To The Queen
read it on the AO3 at https://ift.tt/2OdDTV1
by BelleWrites (sunleyemrys)
Marian's legendary battle VS the Arishok.
Words: 1018, Chapters: 1/1, Language: English
Series: Part 2 of A Hawke and Her Wolf
Fandoms: Dragon Age - All Media Types
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Characters: Fenris, Female Hawke, Marian Hawke
Relationships: Fenris/Female Hawke
Additional Tags: Battle, duels, nearly dying, not today asshole
read it on the AO3 at https://ift.tt/2OdDTV1
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Rules: Answer the questions in a new post and tag 20 blogs you would like to get to know better. Repost, don’t reblog.
Tagged by: nobody technically but I saw it on @andipens sooooooooo
Tagging: Anyone, everyone.
NICKNAME: lucifer, lau, lala, lulu,
STAR SIGN: taurus
HEIGHT: 5′7″
CURRENT TIME: 6:00pm
FAVE MUSIC ARTIST: Selena Gomez, Taylor Swift, Pentatonix, Little Mix, Cher, Lorde, Miyavi, The Killers, Jason Mraz, Katy Perry
LAST MOVIE WATCHED: American Assassin
LAST SHOW WATCHED: Scrubs
WHEN DID YOU CREATE YOUR BLOG: This one? idk a couple months ago, the parent blog for this one? 4 years ago.
WHAT KIND OF STUFF DO YOU POST: mainly rp replies, ooc memes, ic memes, muse inspo stuff.
WHY DID YOU CHOOSE YOUR URL: belle for beauty and the beast, and pens because bellewrites was taken. I like the idea of belle writing stories. I thought about using hermione but that would be to long.
HOGWARTS HOUSE: gryffindor
POKEMON TEAM: Mystic
FAVORITE COLOR: Red.
AVG HOURS SLEEP: usually about 6.
LUCKY NUMBERS: I don’t really have any? but i like 12 and 8.
HOW MANY BLANKETS DO YOU SLEEP WITH?: one.
DREAM JOB: television screenwriter
FOLLOWING: 0. This is a sideblog. But Eve is following 117...which i need to clean out wow. They’re pretty much all old members from ikag
FOLLOWERS: 34
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THAT KIND OF LOVE STORY
Everyone was happy except for one - the girl who was wearing the darkest color in the room. Misery. Sorrow. Gloominess. All painted in the girl’s petite face. Her name was Love.
Love, I know, used to be so joyous and cheerful. She was so optimistic of almost everything she does. She would be glad with the little things she receives from everyone. Until she meets Deceit. Then everything changed.
Love and Deceit were always together. Deceit on the lead and Love was always the one who follows. Deceit was the dominant and Love was always the submissive one. Deceit was the master and Love, almost a slave. That’s the movie I always watch at school - supposedly romantic but turned out to be a drama.
There must be something wrong. I sense some flaws and loopholes in their relationship. From then, I decided to personally ask Love.
“I hope you don’t mind if I ask you, Love, but I noticed your changes since you met Deceit. You’ve become so different. Should it be the opposite? You know, ‘cause you finally found your soulmate, I guess,” I bravely asked.
“Well, not all you see with your naked eyes are true with what I feel inside my heart. I can be extremely happy but I can be achingly melancholic as well. But you see, Deceit needs me for him to understand the importance of everything. I know I can get through this struggle. I am just waiting for the right time,” she convincingly said.
And that explains it all. Love is after all mysterious but selfless in the most impossible situation there is.
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Fandom: Dimension 20
Rating: Teen
Relationship: Riz Gukgak/Fabian Aramais Seacaster
Word Count: 4,202
Summary: The Hangman is hitting a solid seventy miles per hour in a forty zone, but Riz hasn’t taken driver’s ed yet and the highway is straight for a while and there’s no one else around because it’s raining so, for a second, it feels like there are no laws, no rules, no expectations, and they could keep riding towards the horizon forever and never find the place where the sun meets the trees.
Fabian picks Riz up from the train station, and things speed up from there.
#bellewrites#i feel like calroy like CARAMELINDAAAAAA#anyway hi#im back with more bullshit#fantasy high#dimension 20#fabriz#riz gukgak#fabian aramais seacaster#fic#fanfic
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Fandom: Dimension 20
Relationships: Margaret Encino/Lucienne Rex (implied/referenced)
Rating: Teen
Word Count: 1,526
Summary: Margaret had worried when she first left planetside semi-permanently that space would feel like this. Cold, distant, freezer burnt fingers and thousands of twinkling stars you’ll never know. Margaret has started to realize that it’s the exact opposite of that, actually. Planets and those on them are the cold ones, and nothing, nothing, is warmer than the love she’s seen between the spacers onboard the Red Hot.
But still, Margaret is not a part of it.
Margaret, the cold, and finding warmth amongst stars.
#bellewrites#IM BACK BABY#maybe#tentatively#BUT NONETHLESS WOOOOO#dimension 20#a starstruck odyssey#starstruck odyssey#aso#margaret encino#fic#fanfic
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Fandom: Dimension 20
Relationship: Riz Gukgak/Fabian Aramais Seacaster
Rating: Teen
Word Count: 4,562
Summary: So, he’s drunk and he’s maudlin because he gets either maudlin or absolutely unhinged when he drinks and one means he’s thinking about Riz and the other means he’s with Riz, and right now he has no clue where Riz is so he’s stuck in the sad, swaying contemplations that dance in time with the music and the lights and squeeze his heart tighter than the vice of people around him.
At a house party their senior year of high school, Fabian drinks, climbs onto rooftops, and touches the sky.
#bellewrites#promise im working on my m&m fic too just its going slowly#fantasy high#dimension 20#fabriz#fabian aramais seacaster#riz gukgak#fic#fanfic
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(cw: night yorb possession, brief descriptions of hospitals/doctors)
“I’m scared, The Ball.”
Riz’s breath catches in his throat as he leans against the wall below Fabian’s window. It’s spring and a flowery breeze drifts over Fabian’s sprawling lawn, swirling around Riz and kicking up his curls. It’s dark, too, which is why Riz is here. Starlight catches on the grass and the white roses of the garden. Riz breathes it in and presses himself closer to the wall, further away from the silvery light and into the shadows.
“I know you said you’re fine but I just... This is so stupid, what am I, a twelve year old girl?” Fabian’s on his balcony, the metal bottom of which is providing Riz his shield from the stars.
Riz doesn’t picture the way Fabian probably looks, leaning on the railing, hair ruffled by wind and eye a little sad and tired. Riz doesn’t picture it just like he doesn’t hide from his own best friend.
“You’re literally right across town,” Fabian mutters, and Riz has to strain himself to hear. “I could just go see you. I should just go see you. I don’t know why I’m doing this.”
Technically, Riz should be in bed right now. The doctor was very stern about the wonders a full eight hours could do for a sticky possession, and his friends had seemed hopeful when he told them about potential easy cures, that there might be a way out of this one that avoids death and gods and pain. It was a doctor who told him this, though, and Riz had never been particularly fond of them, so he’d politely nodded his head, because his mom was in the room, and then proceeded to do everything but change his piss poor sleep schedule, even though he knew Kristen could sense the levels of exhaustion building up and Adaine could see the rings under his eyes.
He spends most of his nights in his office, trying and failing not to think or say the two words that make him nauseous, that make his bones ache and his eyes feel like they’re going to pop out of his head. Most nights, however, are not all of them, and the others he spends here, at Seacaster Manor. Which is why he’s so surprised to hear Fabian talking to him, or, rather, talking to the wind that bears his name. Because Fabian is always so careful, when there is a chance at being overheard.
Fabian heaves a sigh and the metal above Riz shifts. “I don’t know how to help you, The Ball. You won’t... you won’t let me help you.”
Riz bites his tongue and closes his eyes and lets the breeze and the words whip over his face, ignores the burning of the tattoo across his chest in favor of the sting of claws in his palms.
“I wish you would just fucking take care of yourself for once. God, it shouldn’t be too hard. It shouldn’t be... these things are supposed to be easy for people like you.”
People like me? Riz thinks, before he reminds himself that he isn’t allowed to think anymore.
“You’re basically being given a mandatory vacation. That sounds,” Fabian blows out a breath and it adds a new tone to the whistling in Riz’s ears. “That sounds so nice.”
Riz chews the inside of his mouth—it’s already a raw and bloody mess from weeks of this and he isn’t sure what it could possibly hurt to keep going.
“But you don’t, you don’t get to rest, ever, even when you need it. You don’t let yourself. I don’t understand you.”
Riz gets that a lot, even from the people, the creatures who cohabit his body. Riz is used to that. It hurts, a little, anyway.
And then Fabian says something truly surprising, something that finally pulls the back part of Riz’s brain from where it’s sinking deeper and deeper into a pit of night yorb night yorb night yorb night and back into himself, the part that he can still allow to be himself, that he can still trust to be himself.
“You’re my best friend. I love you. I wish you’d let me help.”
Fabian never says those things. Never. Not even when Riz is cold and dead in the dirt of a forest. Not even when Riz is shaking and trying not to cry in bed after bed in hospital after hospital, as surgeons and clerics and wizards attempt to remove his tattoo. Fabian never says those words, no matter how many times Riz does.
He immediately follows it up with another, “This is so stupid.” And then the metal creaks and Fabian’s sliding glass doors drag on the floor and Riz hears footsteps pause, directly over his head, on the threshold of his bedroom and balcony. “I’ll make sure you’re okay, The Ball. I’m going to make sure you’re okay.”
The stars twinkle overhead. The breeze is much more like wind now than it was before. Riz presses his head against the wall and breathes.
#notes app fic because sofis mind is >>>>>#bellewrites#fantasy high#fabriz#like vaguely its pretty much just platonic but interpret it how you will#riz gukgak#fabian seacaster#night yorb#dimension 20#spawned by a discussion of their love languages and now i have too many emotions
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Fandom: Dimension 20
Relationship: Riz Gukgak/Fabian Aramais Seacaster
Rating: Teen
Word Count: 3,124
Summary: Fabian isn’t young anymore. And the world is scary and cruel and full of fire. And Fabian isn’t standing on the deck of a ship under the shadow of a too hot sun, he’s curled beneath a blanket with the semi-liquid form of Riz Gukgak wrapped up on his chest.
Fabian thinks about the ocean, and Riz, and the many places where those two parts of himself are the same.
#bellewrites#its been too long. toooooo long#uhhhh anyway im tired goodnight <3#dimension 20#fantasy high#fabriz#fabian aramais seacaster#riz gukgak#fic#fanfic
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Fandom: Dimension 20
Relationships: Kingston Brown & Ricky Matsui, Bruce “Kugrash” Kugrich & Sofia Lee, Pete Conlan & Ricky Matsui & Sofia Lee
Rating: Teen
Word Count: 4,885
Summary: “You know, it’s okay to need help sometimes. That’s why we work as a team, right? We stick together, you hear?”
“Yeah,” Ricky says. “I hear.”
Kingston helps Ricky. Kugrash helps Sofia. Ricky and Sofia help Pete.
my main (and only) fic for the 2021 @d20-fic-exchange!! it was for @/ladybug114 on ao3 who gave me the prompt “Would love to see a season 1 fic about Kingston and Kugrash as parental figures to the younger members of the team- Pete, Ricky, and Sofia. Advising the three of them, helping them deal with things, and also going to each other for support!”
#bellewrites#this was a blast and the whole fic exchange was so fun#thank you gendermybeloved for organizing it 🥺🥺#dimension 20#tuc#the unsleeping city#kingston brown#kugrash#ricky matsui#sofia lee#pete conlan#fic#fanfic
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if you’re still doing fic requests I would love anything with Gorgug/Ragh!
Fandom: Dimension 20
Relationships: Gorgug Thistlespring/Ragh Barkrock, Gorgug Thistlespring/Zelda Donovan (background)
Rating: Teen
Word Count: 5,536
Summary: “Would you go to prom with me?”
“What? Yes. Absolutely,” Gorgug says, immediately, not even thinking about it, not even knowing when prom is or if he’ll be on tour by then or anything. Ragh’s smiling at him, and Ragh’s asking him to go to his senior prom, and Gorgug can’t say no to that.
Gorgug and Ragh prom night take two, minus the dragons and homophobic assholes, plus a whole lot of pining.
#bellewrites#im sorry this took so long!!!!! it was so fun to write!! i hope you like it!!#fantasy high#dimension 20#gorgug thistlespring#ragh barkrock#fic#fanfic#gorgug x ragh#i do not know what their ship name is
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Fandom: Dimension 20
Relationships: Ayda Aguefort/Figueroth Faeth, Kristen Applebees/Tracker O’Shaughnessey, Zelda Donovan/Gorgug Thistlespring
Rating: Teen
Word Count: 3,537
Summary: Ayda understands that there is something groundbreaking happening here. The fact that Gorgug and Zelda and Fig are wearing makeup, the fact that Kristen and Ayda and Tracker (today) are not. The fact that they are all visibly different from the people at the tables around them.
And that’s really part of the reason why Fabian and Riz and Adaine are not here—because it’s hard to be stealth when going out in public with the express purpose of being trans.
Ayda goes on a t4t triple date and contemplates the meaning of love.
#bellewrites#everyone say trans rights#fantasy high#dimension 20#d20#figayda#ayda aguefort#fig faeth#trackerbees#donospring#fic#fanfic
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the rockrose and the thistle
A/N: wrote this really fast for @kindlespark because she was so nice about my calmethar fic and *sobs* i hope you like it!!
Caramelinda’s lips are dark and wine stained, her mouth tasting of fizzing cola and chocolate. Amanda thinks she could get drunk on this, on the soft feeling of golden hair in her hand and breath ghosting out across her cheek. On the way the queen smiles against her skin.
“My Queen,” Amanda says, voice low and rumbling, catching in the very bottom of her chest as Caramelinda turns those warm eyes on her.
“Darling.”
Amanda burns.
-
The sky is blue and glassy as the bulb buzzes above. Amanda’s hand wraps around the hilt of her sword, squeezing the leather out of habit, slotting her fingers against the worn grip.
“We’re having trouble to the north,” her knight, a Sir Dots of House Dippin, says, neither of them looking at each other, instead facing the sky above.
“The Sundae Sorceress?”
“Maybe. All we know for sure is trouble.”
Amanda cuts Sir Dots a look, and finds xem already smirking at her. “Informative.”
“Amethar’s always had the best spies,” xe says and looks back out at the horizon.
“You just mean Lord Cruller.”
Dots snorts, “Speaking ill of our marquis?”
“Oh, never.”
They laugh together, for a moment, in the bulb’s light. It pales in comparison to the memory of Caramelinda’s soft, perfect hands, dancing above hers against cream sheets.
“We’re a long way from home,” Dots says.
“Yes, we are.”
The bulbs blazes on.
-
The milk silk ribbons tangle in her hands, too slippery for Amanda to thread through the dress’s loops. “Just give me a moment, I almost have it.”
Laughter, the kind Amanda only ever hears when they’re alone, bubbles up from in front of her, dripping and smooth like sweet sugar sizzling on a stovetop. “It’s alright, Amanda, I can do it myself.”
Amanda huffs. “They’re behind you, m’lady. How could you ever hope to even find them?”
“Well, usually I don’t take them out all the way,” Caramelinda says, smile clear in her voice.
Amanda blushes, tries once again to thread the ribbon through its loop, and gives up. One of her hands finds the curve of the queen’s waist, the other going to brush her hair from her neck, which she presses a kiss to, right atop a freckle.
“Amanda,” Caramelinda murmurs, a soft exhale.
“Mmh,” Amanda hums into her skin, combing a hand through her hair.
“I need to go to court, my love.”
“Court can wait.” Amanda mouths at her neck, tightens the grip on her waist.
“Amanda.”
“Mmh.”
“Are you doing this so you don’t have to fix my dress?”
Amanda smiles and pushes her hands into said dress, pulling it from Caramelinda’s shoulders. “Only a little.”
Caramelinda laughs as Amanda pushes her down onto the bed.
-
“Sir Maillard.”
“My King.”
Amethar smiles from beneath his crown, and claps Amanda on the shoulder. A part of Amanda threatens to do something rash, like break his hand.
“How’re you doing?”
Amanda nods, perfunctorily. “Well.”
“Not one for conversation. That’s fine, that’s fine,” Amethar’s smiling dumbly. Amanda wants to ask him if he understands what Caramelinda gives up for this kingdom every day while he sits with that crown on his head.
“What do you want? My King,” she tacks on at the end.
“Just wanted to, eh, congratulate you for your win, out on the Sucrosi Road.”
Amanda attempts at a smile, it probably looks more like a grimace. “Thank you.”
Amethar takes a step closer to her, still grinning, “Jet would love you. She’d like to train with you sometime, maybe as a present for her eighteenth Saint’s Day?”
“It would be an honor, My King.”
Amethar claps her on the shoulder again. Amanda remembers the way she found Caramelinda, crying over a dress of blue cloth, Caramelinda, asleep atop a pile of work, Caramelinda, deep circles under her eyes and a defeated slump to her shoulders. Caramelinda, barely holding on.
Amanda does not hate Amethar. She just doesn’t like him all that much.
-
A flash of s’mores steel catches the air before sinking into the chest of the popcorn warrior before her. He falls, crumbles into pieces of kernel, and Amanda is already twisting, slamming her sword into the opponent behind her.
She’s always come alive in battle, in a way she doesn’t anywhere but with Caramelinda. It’s a mix of both the rush and the wait—each swing of her sword is practiced, watchful. She does not strike recklessly like the King she serves, her strategy more like the words from her Queen’s lips.
Battle is where she feels the closest to home, while she is away from it. Battle and war and violence and peace and sweetness and strength, creating a web of spun sugar in her head. As her sword fells another opponent, her hand raises Caramelinda’s fingers to her lips. She trips a celery stalk into the praline ground, and she presses kisses to Caramelinda’s calves, the skin behind her knees, the freckles on her thighs. She watches the light leave the eyes of those who seek to hurt her Queen, and she stares into Caramelinda’s eyes as she stands by her side in the throne room, their hands not touching but close, the space of a breath between them.
Amanda lost her helmet two opponents ago, and she whips her hair back from her face where it has fallen from her bun. Her hand comes away sticky with sweat and blood—both Vegetanian and her own—and she uses that hand to slam Sir Chocolat’s combatant down to the ground so she can drive her javelin into their chest.
Amanda misses the battlefield when she is home, and she misses home when she is battling. She hopes that the two never meet.
-
“It’s too dangerous,” Amanda says, and she has never seen Caramelinda truly angry with her, but she sees that fire now, her eyes burning and blazing. Amanda tries not to take a step back.
“You will do as I command, Sir Maillard.” This is not her Caramelinda speaking, this is the Queen of Candia, whose life is spiralling from her fingers and whose daughters do not and have never listened to her and whose closest companions are all her husband’s allies.
“Please, Cara. I can’t leave you. Uvano is—”
“He is dying, and Amethar will become emperor.” Caramelinda’s chin is turned up, but she manages to look down her nose at Amanda even though she towers over her. “Now, the Sucrosi Road requires your knights’ attention.”
“Please,” Amanda says, her voice breaking around the world.
She sinks to her knees there, in Caramelinda’s study as her Queen orders her to leave when she needs her most. It is easy, so easy, to catch Caramelinda’s hand where it is fisted at her side and press her forehead against it.
“Sir Maillard…”
“Cara, I can’t.”
Caramelinda snatches her hand away. “You must. I order it of you, I am your Queen.”
Amanda rides from the castle at sunrise, armor and heraldic flag gleaming, as the Queen of Candia swallows her heart back into her chest and watches with barely hidden rage and pain as she sends her protection away.
Amanda will never get to train Jet Rocks.
-
The war is over. The battle is not.
She holds Caramelinda where she has collapsed at the statue of her fallen daughter, fifty paces from the statue of her fallen wife. She holds Caramelinda, buries her face in her hair, breathes in her caramel and sweet sugar smell.
Amanda wishes that this fight would end, but she knows it never will. So, she will remain by her Queen’s side. She is not leaving her home again.
#bellewrites#literally aaaaa thank you!!!! im so happy today because of your comments#dimension 20#acoc#a crown of candy#acoc spoilers#caramanda#amanda maillard#caramelinda rocks#fic#fanfic#hopefully this format isnt bad lmao i hate posting fic on tumblr
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Fandom: Dimension 20
Relationships: Pete Conlan & The Dream Team, Pete Conlan & Nod
Rating: Teen
Word Count: 7,346
Summary: “Anything you need, alright? Just holler, I’m right next door,” Kingston had said with a little nod in Pete’s direction where he stood awkwardly in the middle of the bedroom, holding a fresh pillow Kingston had gotten him from the closet.
“Thanks, man, appreciate it,” Pete had nodded, and Kingston had left, shutting the door behind him.
Now, Pete wishes, a bit naively, that Kingston had stayed for a while longer. Talked to him, maybe. Told him more about the Unsleeping City or Nod or any of these other weird words that everyone else is acting like are totally sane and normal.
5 times Pete falls asleep at someone else's place, +1 time someone falls asleep at his.
#bellewrites#im proud of this one okay#dimension 20#tuc#the unsleeping city#pete conlan#pete the plug#fic#fanfic
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