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kakuryuminn · 11 months

Note

Hi! I love reading all of your Mammon angst stories! Each one of them is beautiful and so sad and I love it! I was wondering if you could do a story with Lucifer accidentally hurting/killing Mammon in a fit of uncontrolled rage then realizing what he did. If you’re busy with other things and/or don’t want to write this, then it’s perfectly fine. Everything you make is glorious regardless! Thank you for listening!

Hello! Sorry it took quite a while. I just opened my tumblr hehe. And of course! I'll do it. I have been pretty bored lately and experiencing writers block so, this would be a nice warmup! Thank you for loving my fics<333

Ps: short as fuck and not many details in it. Hope you guys enjoy!

UNINTENTIONAL

Tw: Violence, Blood, life and death situation, comatose, trauma

Lucifer, the avatar of pride, the eldest of the seven, glared at the lower rank demons that are on his way.

His red eyes glowing fiercely, as he balled his hands in a fist. He walked at the hallway, every step he took made a cracking sound at the wooden floor.

He don't want to see anyone right now. Whether it may be one of his brothers, one of his closest friends, he wants to be completely alone in this moment.

Because lucifer doesn't know, when or where he will lose his temper and lash out at some random stranger. Or worse, kill them with his rage.

"But this will be a complete fail!" A noble shouted as they slammed their hands onto the table, making some of the teacups shake.

"Please do not worry about the outcome, for lucifer, my right hand demon will be incharge of this business." Diavolo smiled reassuringly at the demon. Lucifer could tell that the demon prince is getting impatient by the constant questions about this project they are proposing.

"Hah!" The demon scoffed, jamming a finger at lucifer and turning to the others with a mocking smile. "Have you gone mad, prince?! This is the same person who ruined our first project!"

Lucifer's brows knitted in annoyance. He decided to speak and put this annoying fucker on his place. "Excuse me? Weren't you the one who begged me to give you the first project? And what did you do to the fund we raised? Spent it on useless things saying it could help our project." He took a sip of his tea and glanced at diavolo, checking if he is going to stop lucifer.

Seeing as he didn't, lucifer continued. "It didn't help and just ruined our project completely. We didn't even sue you. So who do you think you are accusing?"

The noble shut his mouth and sat down, grumbling things under his breath.

Half an hour had passed, and they were all dismissed from the meeting.

Lucifer walked through the palace corridors. He turned, but stopped when he heard familiar voices.

"I mean, how can prince diavolo make that fallen angel his right hand?!"

Lucifer halts.

"Yes! I mean, a fallen angel as his right hand? Ugh, it feels like he's belittling us."

Lucifer glared.

"I mean, can't you see his brothers also?" The demons snickered. One that made lucifer feel anger.

"No wonder they couldn't save their pathetic sister from her tragic love story!!" They all laughed out loud, and Lucifer's eyes darkened.

This was the last straw.

He flung the door open, the demons inside flinching and turning to him in a snap. All fearful of the demon in front of them.

Lucifer stood at the middle, wings flapped open as he looked at them one by one. If a glare can kill, lucifer will have to deal with a bloody aftermath.

"...!"

Lucifer dashed so fast and lifted his fists, but before his punch can hit the demons face, someone had pulled the noble demon to the side, causing for lucifer to punch the wall and made a huge hole that would take days to renovate.

"You-!" Lucifer was about to attack again, but he was held back by diavolo, who ordered him to back out and follow him.

It took them a hard time to get lucifer to go outside of the castle because he was lashing and cursing like crazy. He curses everyone who laughed at his brothers. He curses everyone who laughed at his sister.

He want them dead.

Diavolo opened the door to his car, lucifer came out, fists clenched hard that it wouldn't surprise diavolo if there's blood that's dripping. He glared at the doorframe to his home.

Driven by anger, lucifer walked towards their house without bidding goodbye to the butler and the demon prince. He slammed the door open, walls that surrounds the door cracked. He walked inside, and shut the door so loudly diavolo swear he heard the handle broke.

Lucifer could hear a few steps. He looked up the stairs, and glared at the demon(s).

Asmodeus, beelzebub, satan, belphegor, and levi were all huddled, staring at him. Some were nervous, one is amused, and some were worried.

Lucifer walked at the opposite stair, not breaking eye contact with his brothers. He stopped when he reached the top, and scanned all of them. Levi flinched when he saw a chuck of the railing fall.

"Mammon. Where is he?" Lucifer asked, anger obvious in his voice. He waited for them to answer, but he was out of patience. Lucifer gripped the rails, and threw a big chunk at their direction. Don't worry, he purposely let it miss.

"Woah!" Satan exclaimed, because it almost hit him. "What the actual fuck?" He said, turning to his demon form. "What the hell is up your ass this time?!"

"Satan-"

"Mammon. Where is he?" Lucifer repeated again. This time, with his demon form out too. "I won't repeat again. Where's that bastard?" He asked, again.

Now, the others thought that mammon was the reason of lucifers anger. Satan let out an annoyed 'tch' before turning to his original form. He crossed his arms, it seems like noone is willing to speak so he'll do it instead.

"That scumbag is working right now—"

Satan stopped talking when the door creaked open, and mammon walked in, sweaty and obviously tired.

"—Speaking of the demon, tadah." Satan scoffed and motioned his hands as if presenting a very treasured gift.

Mammon looked at them, eyes half lidded. He smiled tiredly. "Somethin' wrong?" He asked, voice hoarse.

Beelzebub looked at him in worry before giving him a mouthed 'goodluck'. The glutton demon dragged belphegor to their room despite his protests. Well, belphegor just wanted to insult his second eldest brother. Asmodeus followed suit, mumbling under his breath about his beauty sleep being interrupted. Levi dashed to his room in a hurry, after smirking at mammon. A mocking one.

Satan leaned in on the rails, looking at lucifer. The eldest is glaring daggers at mammon. Satan looked at mammon, and frowned when he looked so confused.

"Just a reminder, I'll be reading my favourite book so don't scream too loud." Satan warned, showing the book in his hands. "Or I'll shut you up enternally."

With that, satan walked out of the scene and mammon could hear the door opening and being slammed closed. Mammon sighed. What could he possibly did this time?

Mammon, despite not knowing what he did wrong, lifted both of his arms and closed his eyes. "Look, Im' one minute late to the curfew, and i aint' doin' anythin' this past few days. I don't know what ya want from me, but i sincerely just wanna' rest so can you please postpone the punishment til' tomorrow?" When all he received was silence, mammon opened his left eye to peak and oh boy how he almost pissed his pants.

There was lucifer, marching down with both his fist clenched and wings spread widely, mammon could hear a low growl.

The avatar of greed gulped.

"Y-yer scarin' me right now, luci..." He stepped backwards, his hands searching for the knob hurriedly, while glancing at his walking brother. He was marching and mammon felt like it was death coming to him.

"Fuck, where the hell—" He turned around, horror in his eyes when he found out the knob was broken and the door was locked because of magic.

Just as mammon turned his head to face lucifer, a harsh punch landed on his face and he screamed.

Satan gripped his book, his breath hitching when he heard another scream of pain. He sighed, flipping another page as he tried to ignore the countless screams of mammon for lucifer to stop.

He could hear crashing of things, and harsh coughing of mammon. He couldn't hear lucifer speak, though. He just heard kicking and he felt the eldest's power on and off.

"...just what did mammon do this time..." He said, worry lacing his voice. He sighed, flipping yet another page.

The screaming went on for hours and satan could swear he couldn't understand what he was he even reading. He slammed his book close and placed it on top of his desk.

He brought his hands to his face, a sigh of exhaustion and worry evident.

...

The screaming stopped.

Satan peaked from his fingers, staring at the ceiling. Is it over?

Satan stood up and opened his door with courage, but he halts when he heard an agonizing scream. A scream that didn't belong to the second oldest.

Satan ran.

Lucifer continued kicking the noble demons body, stepping on it's stomach and grinning when he heard it scream and wail.

You son of a bitch. Do you think you could talk to my family like that?

And finally, with one final kick to the stomach, the demon stopped screaming. The cries and begging for him to stop all vanished on thin air.

Lucifer breathed a heavy breath, backing away. He looked at his masterpiece, grinning like a maniac.

The black [white] hair of the demon was now messy. His green [blue] eyes now painted in a dull color, and his once graceful skin covered with his very own blood.

Lucifer's vision starts to blur, the anger inside him subsiding as his vision become clearer and clearer by the second that pass.

His breathing became stable, and he felt like it was his first time knowing who he was, why was he here.

Lucifer looked down at the blood in his hands and clothes, and to the demon he had just beat up.

His vision became cleared.

The black hair was replaced by white.

That made lucifer widen his eyes in fear and horror. With trembling legs, he stepped forward, and forward...

"...!"

There, in a pool of blood, lay mammon. Almost lifeless. His eyes opened wide, eyes becoming dull and tears flowed through them uncontrollably. Mammon's left hand at his stomach, his right hand bent in directions that made lucifer want to rip out his head and scream his lungs out.

Mammon coughed, weakly. Blood came out of his mouth, as his pupils barely moved. His gaze landed on lucifer.

"...L...c....fer-" He coughed again. Lucifer couldn't move. "W....y...?" Coughed blood. Again. "W...hy...ou...d...yo....do...is...?"

Lucifer fell to his knees, he dragged himself to mammon's side. "I-" I'm sorry. I didn't mean to do this, I'm sorry mammon.

With a final cough, mammon's vision turned black.

Lucifer shook him. Again, and again. He did not respond. Did not flinch. Did not breath.

And so,

Lucifer screamed.

The house of lamentation became quiet after that very same night. If one was to walk past the house, they would think that the seven avatars that lived there vanished to thin air.

Inside the house, through the quiet corridors, through the doors to the demons rooms, there lay mammon. Not moving, not waking up, not doing anything.

His body covered in stitches and bandages. An oxygen tank on his side that was probably the only reason he was alive.

Syringes on the table, wet towels, wet tissues in the trash can.

Outside of that room, six demons lay on their own beds, doing nothing but coping.

Doing everything they could ever do to forget this ever happened in their family.

To forget that mammon may die at any second and they wouldn't get to apologize. HE wouldn't get to apologize.

This went on for days. Days eventually turning into weeks, and weeks turning into months.

When mammon woke up, they all rushed to him. The five of them rushed to his side, asking if he was okay. But the avatar did not answer any of their questions. He only stared blankly at the wall infront of him, mouth slightly agape as he stared at it in horror. He didn't speak for a few months. And when he did speak, the only thing that came out of his mouth was a terrified scream as a familiar black hair and red eyed demon entered the room.

#mammon #mammon angst #obey me shall we date #obey me #obey me angst #obey me mammon #lucifer #lucifer angst #lucifer obey me #mammon im so sorry #satan obey me #I can't with myself anymore #leviathan #om! leviathan #om lucifer #om! asmodeus #om! belphegor #om! beelzebub #might kms

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jamneuromain · 5 months

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Wild Child Chapter. 4

Series Summary:

As the granddaughter of the sole Duke in your country, you know that you were going to marry some douche prince, because it is the only way to solidify the grasp the future king has on the Upper House. On the flight home, you come up with a brilliant plan to defy your upcoming matrimony.

Bringing a random man to your grandfather's place, and say you have a boyfriend already.

"Is there anything else I should know about? Before I meet your family?" Ari cocks his head to the side, watching you adjusting your cerulean Valentino dress when you wave your hand dismissively.

"Just say we're in love and help me get out of marrying this D-bag."

Ari Levinson x You

#i didn't know he is my fiance-douchebag-prince

#when i did, it was too late

A/N: A big smooch to @rogerswifesblog for she has come up with some of the most hilarious conversation XD Please send her some love<333

You were young, carefree. Came back from school only five minutes ago. Happy, giddy.

You were showing your mother, who took your school bag from your shoulders, a face you make, learnt from your friend in school.

You pulled your lower eyelids, and stuck your tongue out, making your mother laugh at your shenanigans.

“Very funny, sweetie.” Your mother tapped your nose with her finger with a “Boop”, before kissing it gently, “Now go wash your hands, okay? Daddy’s going to be with us for dinner. So be an elegant little lady, and don’t disappoint daddy, okay?”

“Okay!” You dashed to the bathroom with a happy grin, having your mother raise her voice.

“Don’t run in the hallways, sweetie, you might fall!”

Your father barely came to visit you. He would occasionally stop by for an hour or two, leaving you and your mother in this house for months before visiting again. To you, he was a stranger, but your mother’s attitude proves more than that. She would tell you to obey your father and be a good girl, that he is busy and could not afford to visit you often, and that your father loves you.

You saw her taking out the beautiful lilac dress that she had kept in her wardrobe for years, putting on make-up, and finding a pretty white dress for you, which was the most beautiful thing you had ever seen. Calling the two servants in this house, your mother ordered them to place the best silverware you had at the table, and having the chef cook a five-course meal.

You and your mother always had dinner together, in the small house on the outskirts of Ancetol. She would supervise your homework before dinner, and take your little hand, and walk you to the dining room.

But she forgot about tutoring your homework that day, and you were simply glad that you didn’t have to practice your piano and violin, do your math questions, or recite the poem in French that she taught you the day before.

You watched the few people in this house swoop in and out of rooms in haste, curious as to why the simple presence of your father could make your mother (almost) completely forget about you.

In the end, this was the one problem you could not have figured out, no matter how hard you tried, using the brain of a 7-year-old.

The clattering of plates, furniture, and heels clicking on the floor slowly died down, and you hid in your room, reading the fantasy stories written by some brilliant female writer, whom you hoped to be one day.

One of the servants knocked on your door.

“Miss. Y/L/N, your father asked to see you.”

“Coming!”

If there is one thing that you have figured out, it is that making your father happy equals making your mother happy. And you’d want that, making her happy.

So by some sort of twisted logic inside your head, when your father asked you what have you learned in school, you pulled your lower eyelids, and stuck your tongue out, making a face.

You remembered every detail of how your father snapped, slapping you across the face and shouting at your mother, hitting her forehead with an ashtray that cut into her skin, before storming out of your house.

It was a memorable lesson as your mother locked herself in her bedroom and cried, while you sat by the dining table with a swollen cheek, looking at the meal gone cold, flinching at every sound, fearing that he would return.

When one of the servants came and informed you that your mother wouldn’t be joining you for dinner, by the time your stomach cramped in protest, for you were persistent in waiting for your mother to dine with you, you nodded in silence, grabbing the knife and fork, cutting the cold chicken into small pieces.

In the large, dim dining room, with romantic candles lit on either side of the long table, you sat on your chair, eating chicken and wiping your eyes, until your hands were soaked with tears that you could barely grasp the silverware anymore.

You were pulled out of your thoughts when Guy, Guy Thomas approached you and sat down right across the table. He wore something more casual today, a blue T-shirt and a dark green jacket with a pair of sunglasses.

“Y/N.” His smooth brunette hair tousled as he removed his sunglasses, and a lop-sided grin lingered on his lips, “What a pleasant surprise.”

“Guy.” You rolled your eyes, signalling the waitress to take your order, “I called and asked you to come. There’s nothing surprising here.”

He folded his sunglasses, placing them on the table, right by the menu, “Since I am accompanied by this kingdom's future queen-”

“SHHHH!” You glared and kicked his shin under the table as the waitress clicked her pen and flipped a new page on her pad.

“May I take your order?” The waitress asked in a bored voice, not even bothering to lift her eyelids and look at you.

“Chamomile tea, please, and two croissants.” You handed the menu to the waitress.

“Ice Americano, please. Nothing else.” Ari scanned over the piece of paper briefly, handing it to the waitress as well.

Your focus drifted to the empty sidewalk and a few pedestrians. A young couple, having large mountain bags on their shoulders, taking a selfie with their daughter in a pink lacy dress.

All you remembered were the flashing camera lights at proms. Where you were forced to smile with pearl-white teeth. Or carefully orchestrated family pictures, which took hours to pose and select the best one.

Photos.

You and Ari both remained silent as your food and drink arrived,

Ari observed you.

You still didn’t look happy.

There was a cute little frown on your face, as you stared outside of the window in this small café.

However, his observation did not last long, for you turned to him and put a smile on your face. The smile had all the elements, the movements of the muscles on your cheek, the corner of your lips, even the little lines at the edge of your eyes.

It looked sincere. Yet a small voice at the bottom of Ari’s heart told him, it was not.

"I've got this all figured out." You chirped up, a total change from your brooding status, pulling out a little notepad and started reading, "We met at a business dinner party in London when we got acquainted because the host accidentally put us next to each other. We had a fun night and talked about literature. I'm thinking French or German but you can decide the details. We exchanged phone numbers and started texting. But we're also new into this relationship so I'm thinking six or seven dates before sex, which of course, happened in my place."

Ari choked on his iced coffee.

“Sex??” He wiped his lips with a napkin, “Hold on. Hold-on.” Ari raised his hand, gesturing you to stop reading from your notebook, “You are making up a background story for this fake relationship?”

“Well yeah,” you shrugged as if you were not the one who just made up a story detailed enough to publish, “they are going to ask these embarrassing questions anyway, and they'd probably separate us to see if our story stays the same."

“They?”

“My folks. Parents. My dad, especially.” You quickly changed the center of attention, “So … six dates before sex?” You quirked your eyebrows at him.

Ari made a mental note not to drink when you were speaking, “Sure, six.”

“Great!” You traced your finger on the notebook, finding the part where you had just left off, “Oh, right, new to relationship. I shall say three months? So we met in June, one months of texting and flirting and we settled the relationship on August 10th."

“Is it really necessary to have a date?” Ari huffed a laugh in amusement, you were way more fun than he had imagined, “You're making it sound like they will torture us for this information.”

A disapproving look was thrown in his direction. “I know my family. And trust me, talking to them is pure torture.”

Ari put both of his hands up in surrender, "Fine. You were saying?"

It didn’t take you long to find your notes this time. “Oh, the date. Because you are going to prepare a small gift. Small. To celebrate our 100th day together. Without saying, I'll obviously buy the gift and all you have to do is give it to me so that I can act surprised and talk about it in front of my family.”

Seeing Ari having nothing else to add, you continued: “About the time period of our relationship. You only need to remember one month of texting and flirting before we get together, but I'll act like slightly pissed at you in front of my parents. I'll say six weeks or five weeks and four days. Or forty days. Don't react to my answer. I'll probably sway your arm and pout and ask you to agree with me. And it doesn't matter if you do or still say one month; that would be real enough."

Ari nodded, biting the inside of his cheek to stop the laughter from bubbling out. He was now part of your plan, he had to follow it through.

“One month. 100th day, three months. Got it.”

You let out a sigh of relief, seeing there was still about 1/3 to go. “Right, sex. (Ari waited for a moment to swallow the coffee in his mouth) Two months should count for at least a dozen. But the first time should be in my bedroom. My parents are way too traditional to be told otherwise. And you took me to a fancy restaurant before that.”

“Anything else?” After listening to your fake relationship project, there was nothing that could shock him now.

“Anything else you need to know is on that piece of paper.” You snatched a piece of paper from your bag, with a list of likes, dislikes, and some fun facts about you. “Questions?”

Ari was reading through your likes of fantasy novels and dislikes of realism movies, “Only one.”

Not that there was only one question, but the only important one, that he wanted to ask, ever since he met you.

“Is your family always like this?”

His misty blue eyes focused on you. Yet the pitying and the condescending sympathy were too much for you to take in.

The need to share and the bottled wrath crashed into one another, prickling your eyes with tears. It had been so long since anyone comforted you – someone who wasn’t connected to you by blood. This was much less a comfort, and more of a confirmation that normal families, with emphasis on “normal”, should not need their daughter to join hands with a total stranger and lie to them to get out of a marriage proposal.

You shrug, pretending that it didn’t bother you, “You know, family expectations. And then the family I'm supposed to marry has another ton of expectations. And expectations crush you into something you're not. Showing them one side and trying to hide away another. But anyway, I bet the guy I'm going to marry is a lot worse. Machoman shit or stuff like that.”

Seeing him frown, you added, “Not you, Guy. The guy I was supposed to marry. The other guy. His name is not ‘Guy’, of course. But that guy…” Feeling like you had made the conversation a lot weirder, you gave up explaining, frustration taking over your tone, “… you know what I mean.”

Ari found that he was more prone to silence these days. True love was a vague concept for him ever since he knew that he would marry you one day. He thought about how you look like, how you speak or act in front of him. But it never occurred to him that the rules from both families are crushing you, molding you into a lifeless doll rather than a living human being. The twisted family you had, imprisoning you in your house, stripping you of connections to the outside world, and forcing you to marry someone that you did not even know about.

Was it the right choice to marry you? After seeing first-hand what the title and the royal burden meant to you?

Ari was sure before. Now? He was not so certain about it.

Changing the topic of your conversation almost jokingly, he swept away the heavy tension hovering above you: “You sure I’m the right guy-” Remembering your frustration on the “Guy” subject, he decided to ditch the word for the time being, “person to be your boyfriend?”

You dismissed his doubts with a simple reply, “Yeah yeah yeah, you have good genes. They’d love to see our kids.”

Ari was drinking the last few drops of coffee before choking on it again.

He would never drink anything while you were talking.

“That’s-” He coughed into his napkin, “That’s not what I meant.”

“Joking!” You pushed the napkin box in front of him, the smile on your face bright enough to dazzle the sun, “I’m joking. Seriously though, you don't need anything else. I think they'd be more welcome to someone twice my age…”

Twice your age?

Despite the fake documents and birth certificates that the royal secret services forged, the age put on the fake documents were similar to his own, for example, different birthday but the same year. On paper, Guy Thomas was the same age as Ari Levinson, both had turned 32 earlier this year.

He was six years older than you, not old enough to be your father!

The veins on his temple jumped with the beat of his heart.

He did not even look that old! Twice your age is what? 52 years old?

“…they are going to like you. One more thing, I need to know if you have any likes? Dislikes? Allergies?” You were so excited about your plan that you did not notice the muscles twitching down his neck.

“No allergies. Not that I know of.” Ari clenched his teeth. The rules bound to him ever since he was a child, telling him to be polite, were the only thing that prevented him from snarling after getting his ego (and his age) jabbed at.

You clapped your palms together, barely containing the giddiness from the bottom of your heart, somehow completely oblivious to Ari’s fuming, “Splendid! My parents think allergies are for the weak. They are going to love you.”

Later that night, Ari went drinking with an old friend of his, Sammy Navon.

Sammy recently returned from a trip with Doctors Without Borders, before that, he had served two years along with Ari in the Ballenian Royal Navy.

While Ari continued serving for two years each in the Air Force and the Army, Sammy did two more in the Navy before deciding that he preferred saving lives in countries struggling in poverty rather than on the battlefield, and spending last year in South Sudan.

Both Doctors Without Borders and the Ballenian Army did not leave much space for press, let alone personal communication, hence they had only been reunited for a few months.

The tall, lean man slumped on the chair, pouring himself a healthy dose of scotch.

“To what do I own the pleasure of the future king raiding my private collection?” Sammy drummed his long fingers on the bar counter, glancing over the empty tavern that the royal bodyguards had ordered to clear out.

“Can’t it be a men’s night out for old time's sake?” Ari half-complained and dumped two ice cubes in both of their glasses, “How’s South Sudan?”

“Diseases. Famine. Warlords. The likes.” Sammy grunted a “thank-you” for the ice, before asking back, “How’s the royal family? Did the plan work? To check out the girl you were going to marry?”

“Sort of.” Ari hissed due to the spiciness of the scotch, “Gah- This is some pretty strong stuff.”

Sammy smiled ever-so-faintly, “Sort of?” He mocked his friend’s voice, “What – she found out about it?”

“No. Not yet.” Ari chewed on some salty peanuts, “One thing though.” He cleared his throat, swallowing with another gulp of scotch, and asked, “Do I look 40?”

Sammy opened his mouth to speak but no words came out, which made Ari more miserable.

So he did look that old.

Sammy finished the liquor in his glass, and replied, grinning, “You mean with or without that bush on your face?”

Taglist (also tagging those who might be interested: @irishhappiness @patzammit @identity2212 @lokislady82 @petalj @thezombieprostitute @jaqui-has-a-conspiracy-theory @magnificentsaladllama @xx-rennyxx @cringeycookies @autumnrose40 @hawkeyes-queen @vonalyn @theliheat @boo8008 @mrsevans90 @bradfordmyworld @delldenaro

Find the Wild Child Masterlist here 👈

Questions? Comments? Requests? 👉Send them to my inbox 👂

#ari levinson x reader #ari levinson x you #ari levinson x female reader #ari levinson smut #ari levinson fluff #prince!ari levinson #royalty au #ari levinson fanfiction #ari levinson

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venriliz · 11 days

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📩 Simblr question of the day: Who's your biggest inspiration/s on Simblr? Mention them! Tell us why you like them!

okay this is going to be a veeery long post. i could probably name almost every single simblr i follow, but that would be impossible, so if you noticed me liking/reblogging your posts but not mentioning you - please don't think that you're not inspiring to me, because you are! <3

tbh i love the simblr community to bits and a LOT of people inspire me every day. :] i'll name some under the cut!

@aniraklova - she has such a unique sim style and has been nothing but a gift to the community by organizing events like edgewave last year or by being a badass person in general! love her! <3

@microscotch just one if not the coolest simblr imo :P keeps the love for sims 2 alive and doing some kickass renders in the process. simblr wouldn't be as much fun as it is without my Helenchen! <333

@vdshakh hands down the best simblr when it comes to renders. i can only dream of mine being that good. probably got me into doing some myself in the first place. i would reblog their renders every day...and maybe i should! <333

@puppycheesecake when it comes to cas related posts, i could stare at them all day and never get bored. the variety is insane! :] probably fundamentally inspired me to up my own cas game, so ty! <3

@strangetowntales you can probably tell that everything related to aliens/strangetown, basically that theme as a whole is already a plus in my book and i love their moodboards so fucking much!!

@beetlemp3 just their whole blog/aesthetic gives me tooth aches because it's so cute! when i need to treat my eyes to colorful screenshots/builds etc this is one of the blogs i think of first!

@birdietrait birdie makes some of the prettiest sims i've ever seen and is such a huge inspiration when i feel like i'm about to suffer from same-face-syndrom lmao. their sims just look like real people (if that makes any sense) also snoopy is life! :]

@squea there's just something special about squea's sims. can't even put my finger on it but i just love them (especially corn! he's a treat! <333) i also use her natural cas-lighting all the time and never found another one i like as much! :]

@fl0ptrait one of the coolest ppl i met here on tumblr! just all around so nice and also very talented when it comes to creating sims that leave me hot and bothered! °-°

@stellarfalls every time i see one of bree's posts i just feel incredibly humbled and honored by the talent and the love that must've been put into creating them. you deserve every single like and reblog and then some! ily :3

@cinamun not that long ago i already mentioned cin in a post regarding story simblrs i find inspiring, so i might repeat myself when i say that i'm in awe of the dedication she puts into her story. i can see it despite not actively following it and i love that! probably doesn't even get as much attention she should!

@alientown already love her for the name alone BUT (!) the sims she creates are really unique and have so much personality! just love looking at them and imagining what their stories could be! :]

@nigmos i could look at dee's sims all day and find more and more reasons why i find them to be so beautiful! every post of her on my dash just makes me really happy and gives me a lot of inspiration for my own sims! :]

@lilamausmaus she has probably one of the coolest sim styles (in my humble opinion) her game just looks like a comic and i love it so much! her nervous object stole my heart more than once T.T she's also one of the nicest ppl here for sure! i get so much inspiration from her posts! :]

@lucidicer honestly whenever olli posts an edit, my eyes just pop out of my skull in the best way possible and i'm not mad about that at all it's just fucking art! love him and his posts to bits (even though he didn't want to share his cheese sticks with me once... °-°)

@alelelesimz i always happy-cry in simlish when i see alelele's posts, especially recreations of sims from the franchise. I LOVE the urbz remakes so much, they're the absolute best and looking at them makes me want to replay this game over and over again T.T their blog is definitely a huge source of inspiration for me!

okay that was cheesy af but all of those simblrs are the first ones that came to mind when i read nonny's question, but by FAR not all of them. again, if you ever saw me like/comment/reblog your post, know that you're an inspiration to me too and that ily! <333

#venri replies #i'm probably going to cry later when i think of 1000 more blogs i could've mentioned T.T sorry in advance!

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mrghostrat · 5 months

Text

ok gamers lets Interact

(answering asks) (bc i get self conscious abt spamming the dash)

@goblin-named-sam: oh my goddd that would be SO RAD!!! i would love to see this, you have my full permission! (and same re: reading everything out loud omg i do that too htphfpt)

also my bestie is the same with human AUs so i completely get it, and am so pleased & proud my work can be considered so in character to bypass that worry. i agree that the 6,000 years of pining, as well as their separation from the rest of humanity, is a massively integral part of what makes aziraphale and crowley. but imo their lil everyday interactions are just as important, like their flow of conversation and all the temptation vs resistance.

so as long as human AUs recreate that dynamic in some way, they can be sooo fun to read. and then you unlock a whole new range of stories for when you get tired of the same/similar End Of The World narrative. it's hard to get it right, especially when writing a completely different medium like twitch chats and discord messages, but soooo rewarding when it lands 😭🙏 thank you again.

@froggyliciouz: thank you so much holy shit!!

Anonymous: i live for this. ur sustaining me. every time i open my inbox and look at this message, more of my age lines disappear

Anonymous: thank you for telling me so! 🥹

Anonymous: dying over all the ppl rereading it even when it's just come out!!!! so freaking flattering i can't even describe <3

Anonymous: it's lil messages like these that i worry im gonna be annoying if i publish them all to my dash but they bring me SO MUCH LFIE i love every single one kiss kiss thank you for messaging me 🥺

Anonymous: oh how naive i was to think that all this positive reinforcement wouldn't make me keep writing at such a desperate speed 😂

Anonymous: I SWEAR I REPLIED TO THIS ONE... well i hope the cards turned out well! i am 100% here for dangling my fic like carrot and string to get you through chores and tasks >B) phase 2 of the plan is getting us all on a healthy sleep schedule

Anonymous: all hail the stream worm 🙇🪱🙇 and you can thank all the tasty comments people are leaving (and asks like this!!) for making me doubly feral about getting new updates out. must--please--the worms--

Anonymous: AYYY THERE YOU ARE I'M SO PROUD OF YOU 🎉 thank you so much for comin on back and sharing such lovely thoughts about my work 😭💛

Anonymous: ty for reading!! so many fics have done the students' reaction to their relationship better than i ever could 💛 but i love it when they're in total shock and maybe don't even believe it at first 😂 adam would definitely think crowley is pranking them at first (but it would also be so sweet if they all started being a little more personable with aziraphale — i imagine that after the trip, they already would, since they got to see this fun snarky side of him. but even moreso once they realise he's their favourite teacher's husband)

@quinnie28: thank you soooo muchhh for recommending it!! some of my favourite all time fics were sent to me by my bestie. very honoured to be read by someone who doesn't usually read wips <333

Anonymous: he'll always be our lil meow meow

Anonymous: I'm so happy i could bring you a lil joy 🥹 lots of love to you

#anonymous #ask a rat

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retrograderesemblance · 3 days

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20 questions for fic writers tagged by @musicboxmemories <333

1. How many works do you have on AO3? 20 (my ao3 for reference)

2. What’s your total AO3 word count? 367,853

3. What fandoms do you write for? on ao3, i've written for S.lough House, Turn, O.utlander, P.eaky B.linders, Jane A.usten fandoms, S.tranger Things, North and South, and the H.unger Ga.mes.

4. What are your top 5 fics by kudos?

The Answer Isn't for Us (147) Telling It to the Daisies (126) Nobody's Right if Everybody's Wrong (85) Out of the Deep End (63) I'll Let My Stories Be Whispered When I'm Gone (55)

5. Do you respond to comments? yeah i respond to all of them. met one of my best friends (aka @musicboxmemories) through the comments section on a fic.

6. What is the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending? Time is of the Essence bc I killed Bradford *snorts*

7. What’s the fic you wrote with the happiest ending? That Night probably has the most hopeful/non-angsty ending ???

8. Do you get hate on fics? no. tho someone once left a weirdly passive aggressive comment asking me if english wasn't my first language and you know what? fu.ck you to that person.

9. Do you write s.mut? yeah

10. Do you write crossovers? ... it's not something i'm proud of, but yes xD

11. Have you ever had a fic stolen? not to my knowledge

12. Have you ever had a fic translated? no

13. Have you ever co-written a fic before? no

14. What’s your all-time favorite ship? anything with an oc ship asjkdbnajskkajsfs. i'm a serial canon/oc reader and writer, i know what i like.

15. What’s a WIP you want to finish but doubt you ever will? i really want to write more Spider-based fics set in my S.lough House au

16. What are your writing strengths? i feel like i'm good at writing flashbacks ???

17. What are your writing weaknesses? erm..... *sweats nervously at my overuse of semicolons and commas and my utter lack of grammar rules*

18. Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language in fic? i like reading it in books so maybe i should try it in a fic at some point.

19. First fandom you wrote for? first of all time? d.isney fairies *snorts* i was really into those chapter book series in elementary school. if we're talking first fandom i've written for online, it was bi.g t.ime r.ush.

20. Favorite fic you’ve written? i'm quite fond of my most recent fic about Spider. i like what i did. tho I can't discredit my molly fic either, aka the first fic i ever finished :'))

Tagging: i honestly don't know who else on my dash actively writes fics, so if you see this, you're tagged!!

#ooc

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ephhemeralite · 2 months

Note

Since you came to ask for my process, I'd like to come over here and ask about yours!! I see you also do drafts, and I'd love to hear how that looks for you 👀

There is no pressure to go as in depth as I did for mine though!!! And there is no rush <333

I hope your writing is going well!!!

hello!! i have written, honestly, so much in response to this. thank you very, very much for asking, because i love to talk about writing!! maybe more than i enjoy writing, even. lord.

one caveat about me and prose: my thing is very, very definitely poetry. i write poetry about every other day and i have done for years. i adore fanfiction -- to write it, to talk about it, to brainstorm about it, to help edit my friends'. i love how collaborative it is, i love its unique sets of tropes, i love when people talk to me about my fics and their own. i LOVE fic. i do not adore writing it the same way. sometimes, i think of it as a means to an end (having a fic i would like to read and am proud to have written). the way that i go about writing fics reflects this, i think.

my process is pretty shaky and i can be bad about sticking to it (i try to 'trick' my brain out of needing the things it needs to complete longform writing. like a FOOL). the general shape of my process is: an inciting idea (a song lyric, a poem, another fic, a tumblr post, "wouldn't it be cool if [blank] happened in a fic?") -> an actual concept (what would actually have to go on in a fic to make [blank] plausible) -> first draft (me telling the story to myself, ugly) -> second draft (rewrite with a lot of influence from the first draft but, like, good to look at). all throughout this process, i tend to take the time to line edit when my brain gets too overwhelmed with the actual writing, since i find editing to be leagues easier. it's a good way to take a break while still working on the fic, but it is deeply inefficient from every other angle. but, hey, the first rule of fic is to have fun and be yourself.

i'm going to go into detail under the cut bc no one's dash deserves what i've done to this ask.

warning (?) for the fact that the fic i'm currently writing is hockey rpf.

i usually start out with rambling to my friends, too! when my hrpf first possessed me, i sent about 15 messages to my friend cara (who doesn't give a shit about hockey or hrpf) that outlined the (hrpf-specific) trope i liked, what fic inspired me (x), and the goal of my own fic. an abbreviated snippet of that:

it could be interesting to play with the two ways the trope manifests (violent/aggressive and protective) (needing to be taken care of/reassured by teammates) via having them both nest. it has the potential to be so tender . . . i have this mental image of ullmark, who is spacy (clue that he's due for nesting on his own) at practice doing drills or smth when he hears swayman yell/yelp/smth (depends on what sets him into nesting, hurt/confronted/whatever) and goes to check on him only to be met with a fully nesting goalie. while trying to calm him down, he ends up nesting, too.

i imagined this as a oneshot with an extended version of this scene and, perhaps, another. i knew what vibe i was shooting for and what content might pair with it. i skipped the concept step, because i am a fool and i hoped it might be short enough to get through writing it with momentum. i did not do that. more on this later.

what an idea turning into a concept should look like:

i want to write a version of the batfamily/white collar crossover that deals with all related topics the way that //i// think they should be handled

into

a two-chaptered fic, heavy on parallels, split between peter and dick's povs. lots of unreliable narration where the parallels draw attention to how unreliable everything is. both chapters should include the same or similar scenes with the characters' first impressions of each other, moments when they clash (insert scene ideas where dick loses agency, peter invades his privacy, a major plotpoint from the show, etc), how that results in a rise in tension, and when that tension breaks in the climax (burning building?? dick fakes his death???), and closing scenes. dick's pov is going to include a lot more family stuff, focus on the issues of the fic, etc, while peter's pov obscures the issues and completely misses the presence of dick's family.

this is only a recreation of what my 'acquainted with the saint of never getting it right' fic's concept would have looked like, since i've lost all of this since i drafted it two years ago, but the thought stands. it's really sparse -- less than your zero draft, even, but the next step in my process is more than a zero draft, so i'd say they hold the same place in my process. i might include references to ideas i have for scenes if i have them, but they're usually few-word clues like "sketchbook" or "peter in apartment for coffee."

since i like to swim without a paddle, my next step is draft one. my goal is to get it down; if the details feel good and come easy, i will include them, but i don't let them trip me up. it's easier to add shit into the next draft than it is for this one to go uncompleted, basically. some word choices from this draft might remain in the final piece, but rarely does sentence structure or much else.

Sway is growling from deep in his chest, projecting the sound out across the ice. The rest of the team is inching away from Sway’s crease and towards Linus, which upsets something in the back of his mind — Sway should have the team around if he's upset. Clearly, with the growling, he doesn't want them close, but that doesn't mean that they should leave him, either. Once he settles down, he's going to want them. Linus knows, he'd had his fair share of triggered nesting episodes when he was younger. Unless there was something specific that’d set him off — then things would be different, according to what he needed — but Linus doubts that. It was mostly likely that this was just a simple rough start and Sway could get into proper nesting the moment he settled down and relaxed in the net. He could show Sway that easily, Linus thinks. His drifting forward comes to a gentle stop near the front of the pack of teammates and coaching staff carefully not crowding Swayman. He registers, in a distant way, that what's happening right now is going to cause a heaping helping of issues for somebody, but he's also not worried about it. At all. What he's worried about is how Sway needs to feel safe right now and how he doesn't. Linus knows that he's never felt safer than while nesting for this team and that he could give Sway that, if he tried. He just has to get Sway to a nest. All he needs to do is tell Sway that and Sway will surely listen. He lets out a loud chirp, cutting off whatever the head and goalie coaches were trying to say to Swayman. Usually, he'd feel pretty guilty about interrupting, but it's alright. He's going to fix the issue; they'll understand. Sway moves from eyeing up the coaches to staring straight at him so fast that Linus worries about him pulling something; all of the more reason to get him safe and tucked away, somewhere where they can both relax. The growl dies abruptly in his throat, which makes Linus want to preen. Clearly he knows his teammates best. Linus chirps again, eager to get this moving along. Eyes locked onto him, Sway chirps back.

this is a pretty long excerpt, sorry, but a lot happens between the first and second draft and this has plenty left unworked.

the first paragraph is alright -- some imagery i like (the growling and the team's movement), linus' thought process toes the line between coherent and incoherent the way i'd like it to (might lift that, wholesale, to the second draft), although the phrasing "which upsets something in the back of his mind" is... eugh.

the second, third, and fourth paragraphs' main use is to outline where linus' mindset is going, although it's clunky and off-target. i just need the reminder to write his mindset in and its vague shape, for this draft, though. if i kept any of this, the phrasing/sentence structure would need to be changed, but it's more likely that i'd scatter it through the movement and description i'd add into the second draft. my first drafts tend to be either all-internal or all-external, so my second drafts act as the equalizer.

beyond that, my second drafts also make everything... longer. so much longer. it helps me move everything from a barebones "this is what probably happens" to "this is what experts call a nice reading experience," you know? plus, i can move forward with draft one with questions still unanswered, like: i haven't actually decided how i want the narration to refer to these characters, yet. the first name vs last name vs nickname and WHEN debate is an important one, but if i got hung up on that first, i'd never actually write the damn fic itself. instead, we can get it moving.

the difference between a first and second draft might look like this for me:

Nile is in the desert. Her boots are stiff with sand, her hands grasping her rifle, her body weary under her gear. She's marching. On the back of her tongue, she tastes blood. There's not another person around for miles. No squadmates, no commander. No civilians, no insurgents. The sun beats down on her from its place at perfect zenith. Nile stumbles to a stop, heaving for the heat. She casts about for her water, but it's not where it should be or anywhere it shouldn't be, either.

Nile is never going to get out of the desert. That’s most of what she knows. There are other things, like: her boots are stiff with sand, her hands are grasping a rifle, her body is weary under her gear. She’s marching. On the back of her tongue, she tastes blood. She’s alone. From horizon to horizon, the terrain is empty of everything but herself. Her squadmates are missing, her commander absent. There are no civilians, no insurgents. The sun beats down on her from its place at perfect zenith, millions of miles away. She stumbles to a stop, heaving for the heat. She wishes, desperate beyond words, for water, but her bottle is missing. It’s not hooked onto her vest or around her hips; she’s never spent a moment more aware of each of the trillion grains of sand that surround her, dry as dust, as in this moment.

(this fic, even the sun knows where you sleep, has been languishing as a half-finished second draft since may of last year. it's a crossover between the old guard and the sandman, where nile has a series of dreams influenced by morpheus. this is one of them) the first draft of this fic is about 5k, but the finished second draft could end up around 15k. long as hell, by my poet standards.

this second draft is lacking line edits, but bloop (my beloved sister, muah, ily, etc) helped me comb through it months ago so the proposed changes are available. the phrasing is prettier, the structure less repetitive, the imagery and setting clearer. the parts of this that are written are just a stone's throw away from being of posting quality. unfortunately, i'm also of the camp no-posting-before-completed, so it won't be.

i have a gomens fic sitting unfinished on my account because i lost steam and interest before i finished the second draft of its last chapter, which is just... so unfortunate. i'd love to finish it, and eventually i might, but i've acquired a bit of distaste for gomens in the meantime and (in the spirit of being myself and having fun) i'm not beating myself up about it. but, like, lesson learned.

back to the point: sometimes, the second draft can change more of a fic (warning for non-graphic violence):

Nile is standing at the window at the top of Merrick's skyscraper, Andy's labrys in hand. The window is shattered again, though there's no other proof of their battle that Nile can sense. Andy is nowhere to be seen, nor is Merrick. Nile doesn't look down through the window, but she knows there's no crushed car or mutilated body, either. There is Nile, standing at the shattered edge, weathering the sharp breeze snapping against her. There is the ax in her hand, the wooden handle rough. Grainy. It hasn't been smoothed by use or through craftsmanship and Nile can feel splinters bite into her grip. The wood is hot, she realizes suddenly – not skin-warm, but the type of hot that comes from holding something porous as it burns and vents heat through places yet untouched by the flame. In panic, she raises her head to find the source and is blinded, completely. The shock of it is such that she stops moving entirely and blinks, uncomprehending – the sun.

Nile is standing in the moment before the fall. The precipice. She’s at the top of Merrick’s tower again. Behind her lies a cold and empty room, made more of shadow than substance. She knows that she is supposed to continue through – see the moment to its end – but she has been given the opportunity to pause, as time comes to a standstill. Some things have changed; Andy and Merrick are missing. The evidence of their fighting is gone, except that the window is already shattered. A cold wind rushes through the absence, knocking sharp teeth against her body, frozen in its lunge forward toward empty space. In her fist is the labrys that should be cutting into the meat of Merrick’s shoulder. Nile can feel the tackiness of blood in her grip on the wooden handle. She wonders at the grainy texture caught beneath it, surprised that time nor craftsmanship hasn’t smoothed it over, before she understands that this is not Andy’s handle. Instead, the roughly-hewn lumber extends from the floor to a place over her head to become a sort of halberd, its point on the floor supporting most of her weight. It's hot, too – not skin-warmth, but the type of heat that comes from holding a porous item as it’s being consumed by fire, venting heat out through places yet untouched by flame. Nile isn’t injured by the blister of it, but the sensation of burning without pain unnerves her and she raises her gaze to find the blade and the flame. Only, she doesn’t make it that far. Lifting her face out of her hunched position brings it to look toward the window, where she discovers the opposite of Merrick’s abyssal building as it inundates her: an immense deluge of light.

there's a lot more definitive changes to structure, phrasing, and imagery here than in my last snippet. i do, in a literal sense, go through and rewrite each word of my fic between drafts, but how many of those words are carried over from the first to the second can vary depending on the quality of the draft. it's way easier for me to rework a pre-existing piece than make something, wholesale, which i'm well aware of and try to cater to. this is the method that's seen my writing improve the most, even though i think it's wildly impractical and unwieldy. i've even done it with this exact post, which part of why it's taking me so long to finish it!

i'm trying something new with the process on the hrpf, since it's been giving me so much trouble. the theme's changed a bit, with a wider scope and something specific to say, but i also want to incorporate a social media/journalism/outsider's perspective element, which will let me move around outside of the characters' narrations while establishing the wider world of the au. this new step is as close to a zero-draft as i've gotten, even though it's still way less detailed. it looks like this:

MOST VIOLENT VS MOST AMIABLE GOALIES TO NEST IN THE NHL listicle Sway and Linus discuss nesting, Linus has settled into a pattern Could gentle-nester ullmark be a calming influence over swayman or will he dull his edge? speculative piece, focus more on the first option maybe to contrast the move towards understanding anger. Bruins vs buffalo, ullmark in net (dec. 7 game? If the timeline for that works), linus is upset at the loss/it goes bad somehow. Sway is supportive in a more assertive way than typical. It doesn’t start here but it turns here Can’t decide if tweets or something would be good here Internal, staff-only memo advising to keep sway away from linus when he’s feeling broody.

each line represents a separate 'chunk' of the fic. with the added elements, i need to know what will go where so that i can make sure the storytelling tracks throughout. i'm still on this part of the draft, but i'm having a good time with it again which is what i think is most important.

anyway, thank you for asking!! i definitely love to talk about writing! i'm always sooo down to chat, too, except for maybe right now because i am going to pass out asleep i think. <3!!!!!!

#answered ask #experiencing the horrors of this british literature class but we keep going!!!!#<- this was uhm ten hours ago i am in bed now.#sorry if you didn't want to hear about rpf. that's where im at tho

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matan4il · 6 months

Note

Good morning, sweet Alice. I want to write and comment every day! But my mood fluctuates from anger, sadness, rage, and disappointment that sometimes it's hard to find the right words or tones. Especially because it can feel petty in regards to what you are actually living through.

So I thought you know what I couldn't share anything new with you. Why don't I tell you a story back??

This has been an interesting few weeks in my corner of CA for how many people are actually paying attention now. I don't think Iran expected Hamas to succeed this far and now........ it's fucking out there. In ways that show their evil to normies that can't be ignored. In reference, especially about the baby in the over.

I had one friend call me to ask, what exactly is Hamas and for once listen to me about the answer.

I had a younger family member remove their palestine river to the sea post from a year ago and actually call me. To ask questions.

On a sad note, I have one friend whose little sister is leaving her college and coming home at the end of the semester. We can't be there to help her, but we have been door dashing and locals checking in on her. She's terrified to leave her dorm. With that, though, it's actually opening people's eyes to the leftist extremist on college campuses. At least she can come home and be safe with friends and family. She's not the only one!!

People are finally asking questions and paying attention. I think it will get uglier before it's better. But it's a loud disingenuous loud. There is push back finally. People can not comprehend the evil acts that Hamas executed. And they won't be shamed into moral equivalency it.

I hope you're all staying safe!!! Thank you for always updating us!!!

My darling friend! *hugs*

Thank you so much for this. For all of it. Your words are always kind and meaningful, and simply knowing that you wanna write daily is so beautiful, I feel blessed that you found my blog, and I got to meet you! I felt that way even before this massacre, and I feel that even more since... <333

IDK what Hamas and Iran expected. The amount of ammunition and weapons that Hamas brought with them was meant to allow them to hold entire town hostage for way longer than the 24-36 or so hours that they did (depending on which town we're talking about). I heard estimates ranging from several days to a month. Either way, they came prepared for longer than they lasted. So, did they manage more than they expected, 'coz at first they did get to kill so many defenseless civilians with no interference, as they managed to neutralize the security forces? Or did they succeed less than expected, since they lost control of Israeli towns faster than they intended? I don't know.

I do believe that Hamas (and maybe Iran as well) expected Israel to strike back, but without taking down Hamas, which is what happened in previous cases. In 2014, they kidnapped and murdered three Jewish teenagers. But for a while, the fate of those boys was unknown. The Hamas launched rockets at Israel for arresting their terrorists as Israeli security forces tried to find out what happened to the kidnapped boys. Then, by the time the bodies were recovered, dumped in a field, Hamas used the terror tunnels that they secretly built into Israeli territory in order to kidnap and kill Israelis. I'll never forget the tunnel they dug into a kindergarten. They only managed to kidnap the bodies of two Israeli soldiers. No living hostages. Maybe they thought that if they got away with that whole sequence of events, they'd get away with this, too. Maybe they really believed Israel didn't take down Hamas back then because we're cowards, not because of the cost in human life to both sides.

But as for the west's reaction, I find it incredibly reassuring to hear from you that some people have not become SO radicalized, that the massacre of Israelis is something they can justify, ignore or deny. That's comforting, but IDK how representative it is. Because I don't remember people being this bold in their antisemitism in the past, either. I don't remember that people just flat out said that Jews deserve to die for something we are not. I do not remember Jewish students being this scared on college campuses or in their own homes before this false narrative that casts Jews as colonizers of their own native land. And while I'm glad that there are people waking up, I think others are sinking even deeper into the pool of Kool Aid. I've seen people who I hadn't seen posting against Israel before doing just that, and I have seen people shamelessly denying the atrocities of the massacre... And I have no way of knowing what's happening more, people being shaken out of their apathy to the well being of Israeli Jews, or people even further de-humanizing us.

I'm so grateful for your dose of optimism! I am very much embracing it to my heart, and keeping it close to me, and I will pray with all my might that at the end of the day, people are kind, and they do recognize the reality of the threat that Israel is facing. I'm even more grateful to you for speaking up, and educating others, making sure to pass on our voices to those we can't reach. What you're doing is truly essential, and I wish I had a way to show you just how thankful I am.

Sending you all my endless love, always! xoxox

(for all of my updates and ask replies regarding Israel, click here)

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ladytauria · 5 months

Note

<333 4, 8, 14, 18, 22, 35, 46, 58, 74 for the ask game pls!!

thank you mayaaaa <333

4. Where do you find inspiration for new ideas?

Everywhere! Fics and books I've read, random song lyrics (whether the rest of the song fits or not), random posts on tumblr, images, posts on twitter, prompt lists, prompt blogs, etc. etc.

8. Do you prefer the beginning, middle, or end of a story?

Vastly depends on the story. I've had fics where I've had the beginning and ending figured out, but the middle is a mystery. I've also had fics where the middle was a breeze but the beginning and ending were both like pulling teeth!

I will say I tend to enjoy middles more on shorter fics (uhh, less than 15k) and beginnings & endings more on longform stuff!

14. how do you write emotional scenes? Do you ever feel what the characters feel? Do you draw from personal experiences?

I try to put myself in the character's shoes as much as possible! Figure out what emotion(s) they're feeling and then draw on my own experiences with it, lol. Especially if I can feel it a bit myself <3

18. Do you title your fics before, during, or after the writing process? How do you come up with titles?

Yes.

Sometimes the fic title is the thing that inspired the idea, like when I'm inspired by a lyric. Sometimes it just comes to me in the planning process.

Sometimes a fic title comes to me during the writing process. I'll write a line that just seems to capture the core of what I'm going for, and use that or something like it for the title!

A lot of times I end up titling the fic after, though. I'll scroll through the song lyrics I have saved for potential titles, just in case one fits. I'll look up songs that may have the theme or a similar vibe to what I'm gong for. I'll read through the fic looking for a line. I'll summarize it, try to capture the vibe. It can take a bit!! But I get there eventually. After a lot of whining :P

22. Are there certain types of writing you won’t do? (style, pov, genre, tropes, etc)

Speaking specifically for fanfic!

Probs won't ever write first person again. It's not something I vibe with in fic, it's hit or miss for me in published fiction too, and it's just... Not a style I like?

Omniscient POV. When I try it it feels too much like head hopping to me, so xD

Can't see myself writing cheating or hard non-con. Dubcon, yeah; gentle nc especially if its nc-to-c, but not anything harder. I will do comfort after, though!! Hmm... Detailed torture scenes or anything gory bc that squicks me out a little lol ^^;

I can think of a few others but I think that's good for now xD

35. What is one essential thing to remember when writing a villain?

Good question.

Honestly, I haven't written them in fic a lot? But when I do, I generally try to keep in mind their motivations and like... reasons for doing what they do.

46. How would you describe your style? (Character/emotion/action-driven, etc)

Hmm... Character or emotion driven!

58. What part of the writing process do you enjoy the most? (Brainstorming, outlining, writing, editing, etc)

Hmm, I mean, all of them at various points! I guess I'll give brainstorming the top slot because I just have... so many ideas. Therefore I must enjoy coming up with them 😂😂😂

Although nothing compares to writing when it's flowing!!

74. You’ve posted a fic anonymously. How would someone be able to guess that you’d written it?

Does it feature two characters taking care of each other? A lot of focus on trust and vulnerability and willingly offering up the softer parts of yourself? Is there an overuse of "x says"? Can you tell fic was fighting not to be overrun with em-dashes? It's probably a Tauria fic :P

[ get to know your fic writer! ]

#waffleinator-inator #asks and answers #thank u again maya!#my posts

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