#part of a fanfiction story that I am writing probably will come back on this

[saintvainglorious]

My First Fanbind! A Black Sails Fic Anthology Series

It took me a year (and a lot of anxious research) before I worked up the courage to bookbind fanfiction, and after months of on-again-off-again work, my first fanbind is finally done!

I knew that if I was going to bookbind fic, I had to bind something from the Black Sails fandom, aka the fandom and show that have had the biggest impact on my life. Y'all, I almost went into academia to study slavery in the 17th-18th century Caribbean because of this show - when folks say this show rewires your brain chemistry, they are NOT kidding. THEE show of all time. Happy 10th anniversary to Black Sails! This fandom is small but mighty. May we continue to get our hearts and souls blasted to smithereens by this show for many years to come.

Ao3 abounds with magnificent Black Sails oneshots, so I decided to put together an anthology of my favorite Silverflint fics under 20k, which I split into two volumes. Included are works by @justlikeeddie, @vowel-in-thug, @balloonstand, @annevbonny, @francisthegreat, @nysscientia, and more! Thank you, thank you all, you brilliant wonderful people, for gracing the Internet with such amazing writing. When I read the fics in these anthologies I want to fling myself into the sun.

More on the design and binding process below the cut!

Vol. 1 Page Count: 270 (12 fics) Vol. 2 Page Count: 248 (11 fics) Body Font: Sabon Next LT (10.5 pt) Title Font: Goudy Old Style Other Fonts: IM Fell English, pirates pw

The typeset (which I did in Word) took a while, mainly because I'd never done it before. Manually adjusting the hyphenation line-by-line was especially tedious. After making these books, I abandoned Word in favor of InDesign, in large part because InDesign gives you way finer control over your justification and hyphenation settings.

Regarding my actual design choices, I'm happy with how the ocean motif on the title page turned out (it's not the same pattern as my endpapers, but they're complimentary) and I'm very fond of my divider dingbats, which are little swords! Goudy Old Style was a fun title font to use, since it's the font that Black Sails uses as its logo. The stories in Vol. 1 are divided into parts based on what Silver WAS at that point in the show (cook, quartermaster, or king), and Vol. 2 is split up into comedies, histories (AUs set in the canon universe) and tragedies - befitting Black Sails' Shakespearean ~vibes~.

I stuck to a flatback binding, as I wasn't feeling quite ambitious enough to try rounding and/or backing. I've learned that I ~Anakin Skywalker voice~ hate sanding, enjoy folding/sewing, and don't LIKE edge trimming but enjoy the results enough to make it worth it.

The real adventure was decorating the cover, which remained bare for months. After agonizing over Illustrator and experimenting unsuccessfully with HTV and lokta paper embossing, I ultimately turned to using stencil vinyl to paint on the designs. There was a bit of seepage under some of the stencils, but I was able to scrape off the excess with my Cricut weeding tool without damaging the coated surface of the bookcloth (probably Arrestox Blue Ribbon from Hollander's). Even though it was very time-consuming, I'm so happy with the end result of the stenciled paint job and I intend to stick with stencils for my foreseeable future binds.

Are there things I would change? Sure. It was humid out when I printed, so the pages have got a wave. There’s an extra two pages in Vol 2. that I have no idea how I missed, and I got a line of glue in the middle of one of my Vol. 2 endpapers. I’m pretty sure I didn’t case in quite right, since my endpapers pull away from the case at the spine. I think the inner margins are a bit too big, and despite going line-by-line there’s still some wacky justification spacing in the typeset. But man, am I proud of these books! It is so satisfying to learn a new skill - MANY new skills, if we’re being honest - and to make something both beautiful and practical. If I’m still binding in two years or so, I can see myself redoing the typeset in InDesign, cutting out the existing text block, and reusing the cases. I’m also already planning for Vol. 3, which will be Silverflint Modern AUs.

Thanks for reading!

#bookbinding #fanbinding #ficbinding #my books #black sails #silverflint #fanfiction #bsanniversary #10yearsblacksails #10bsfest

[infinnative]

Writeblr Intro

Hi, I'm Finn (She/Her), 25, and have been writing my whole life. With my ADHD it has always been hard to focus on one skill or one hobby but writing has always been something I could come back to whenever I wanted.

Despite how long I've been writing, I've yet to ever really show anything I've written. There wasn't space for me to do so when I was younger and now I'm plagued by my own self-doubt and insecurity, but this is me attempting to tip a toe into the world of writers.

Genres I Write: Slice of life, Fantasy, Sci-fi, Romance,

I want to stretch more into some horror and mystery, one of my goals is to be able to write a convincing mystery novel one day.

Recently I've been obsessed with stories centering around morality and the greyness of it all, or stories about how good people with good intentions end up hurting the ones they love. I'm very much a fan of writing angst but I also am trying to give more love to the happy ending. I like ending my stories with some hope at the end for the characters.

Anyways, if you're a nervous writer like me whose still trying to put themselves out there, I welcome you to give me a follow. I'm hoping by having some kind of writing community it might spur me into putting some short stories or fanfiction out there.

Also, if anyone's ever looking for a Beta reader I'm happy to help. I've been told I can be helpful with editing (plus it's one of my favorite parts of writing).

My 2024 Reading Effort

A link to my reading effort post if you want to join me or suggest me a few books to read

P.S. This is probably going to be a blog of writing stuff mixed with just anything that inspires me or what-not. If that’s not your jam, it’s all good 🤙🏽

#writeblr #writeblr intro #writing community #writers on tumblr #writer intro

[msookyspooky]

Fours a Franchise

Part 12

Wordcount: 8,567

Omfg I got the flu for a week, had a family fued that lasted months between my aunt and...EVERYONE. But thankfully my younger cousin I'm super close to is living with her Dad/My Uncle now after months of this bs so finally there's peace, then in-between this fued and my cousin moving out I got covid and ong I have been foggy headed for 2 weeks afterwards I'm just starting to feel like my normal self again....THEN Wattpad kicked me out of my account. From September till now has been an out of body experience in a bad way 🙃

So thank you all for your support and patience I appreciate it 🖤 but I am so done wracking my brain over this chapter so we're just winging it rn bc I want to write and get past this hump to finish this story then start on 5. So if I missed info or a typo or misplaced lore from previous books *No I did not*~

Annnnddd my motivation with recent Scream news.

The news of Scream 7 is so disheartening and screwed up with Sam and Tara's actresses. So I cannot promise I'm writing till 6 or 7 not only because I'm losing my hyper fixation for Scream after these 2 years but no Tara, Sam, Sidney and most likely no Stu because Matthew is a real one and wouldn't come back after how they treated Neve and Melissa so like? What's the point? This book and 5 I am for sure doing because Billy meeting Sam is a huge writing motive for me. 6 is iffy but 7? I am not. Not only do I not have the motivation to write that much more for this story but it's pointless with so much of Scream being written like bad fanfiction the last 2 installments...Hell, I could do that! But I won't because I probably won't even watch Scream 7 if they make it. The Studio has screwed over Neve and Melissa in ways that I really don't want to support.

Anyways, thank you for the patience. I appreciate all of you! ♡♡♡♡

—————————————

   Ghostface grabbed your ankle and you hit the stairs. Hard. But the second they went to stab you, you kicked them as hard as you could in the knee sending them flying back and tumbling down the stairs. 

Jill grabbed your arm. "Come on, YN!" As you both bolted for Kirby's room…Kirby had gotten separated during the chase and you didn't know where she was. 

Jill locked the door and told you. "The balcony!"

"There's no other way out?" 

"You can jump, maybe, I don't know." Jill rushed out past her lips as she got away from the door. 

You breathed hard, looking down at the drop off from the second story. You couldn't think long as the door frame started bending; the wood splintering with each bang from the killer trying to break it down. 

"That's two stories." You looked at her trying to form a plan. "...Get under the bed." 

Jill looked confused, "Wha-" 

"Just do as I say." You harshly whispered. "Get under the bed and don't make a sound or come out until I get you, okay? Trust me!…Go!" 

You watched her go to crawl under Kirby's bed as you climbed over the railing.

Jill hid under the bed as you heard the door to Kirby's room finally break and the killer come inside. Slowly walking past Kirby's bed...

You made a gasp as you almost fell.

Ghostface darted out onto the balcony to see you descend onto the porch roof. You rushed down around the corner of the home and looked back to see Ghostface on the roof too. Staring at you through that mask before disappearing. You figured back inside to look for the others because you looked back around the corner to see they were gone.

You quickly used the opportunity to get your cellphone.

You faltered just a second...You didn't trust to call police because you did not trust Judy. You didn't care if she was out in the open when Jill's mother was killed. Partners. Besides, you did not have a good track record of using your one phone call for cops and either they don't show up, show up too late, or show up and make things worse with the killer. But you still had to call someone. Randy dead, Gale injured, maybe Dewey? Maybe just risk 911-

You heard a noise and out of reflex you accidently pushed a button on speed dial that you hissed a curse at. Too late, they picked up the phone as you frantically tried windiws.

As soon as it picked up you rushed out, "The killer's here at Kirby's! I need your help. 329 whispering lane-" 

You yelled as you rounded the corner to try a window you saw was cracked open just for the killer to jump out at you. You gasped and stepped back as they tried to slash you with the knife as you dropped the phone on the roof and lost your footing. Tumbling off the roof before barely catching yourself on the gutter. Your fingers and hands burned painfully from the impact as well as trying to hang onto the thin uncomfortable metal with your body weight. The hand you injured from the knife stab a decade ago hurt the worst. Tingling and burning as you desperately tried to hang on. 

You gasped looking up to see a knife and mask. The knife narrowly missed your hand as you let go and let yourself fall harshly onto the ground. Tumbling painfully before laying there a second from the impact. Robbie no longer screamed…Only the smell of flesh and hair and plastic burning as his body provided some fucked up bonfire in the front yard that blazed overtop a pile of dead leaves...And of course this house was about like Stu's with hardly any neighbors. Should've seen that a mile away.

"Shit…" You grabbed the knife from your boot and bolted, forcing your legs to move even if they didn't want to. Running back into the house before yelping at someone grabbing you. You went to stab them before she said, "No, no, no, no! Sorry, It's me." 

You lowered the knife as you saw Kirby. She drew you to a corner of the kitchen to quietly talk. "Look, I tried to call 911 but the landlines dead and someone smashed the router...And my cellphone is missing. I-I don't know, I think I lost it while running I don't understand. "  

Your mind raced with that.

But…Did she actually call 911? Or was she lying? Where had she been? Why didn't she go with you and Jill? Did she actually try to call or did she mess with the landline and wifi in her own house?...

You didn't have time to talk as you both heard heavy footsteps upstairs and Kirby opened the basement door and rushed you in, "Oh god. Go, go, go, go, go!" She urged before following after you and locking the door as you both quickly got down the steps as she informed you. "There's a room down here we can lock ourselves in. I heard you yelling at Jill; is she okay? Did she get away?" 

You both made it to the room as you told her, "She's safe but where's the others? Trevor, Charlie?" 

Kirby breathed out shakily. "I don't know." 

You hissed through your teeth. "Did Trevor or anyone have a shoulder or arm wound? I shot Ghostface in the shoulder tonight before they escaped the barn." 

Kirby mumbled, "I don't think so." All before locking you both in the dark room…Suddenly, you both gasped and jumped at a banging noise. Nearly jumping out of your skin as you instinctively wielded your small knife. You held your knife tightly as you both saw a bloody Charlie banging desperately on the glass door leading to the backyard.

"Kirby! Please, let me in!" 

"Charlie?" Kirby breathed out, going to the door…Her eyes darted to his bloody hand and arm. 

He looked where her eyes traveled and he shook his head. "N-No! I got attacked! Please, let me in!..." He kept banging his bloody hand on the glass while fearfully looking around. "Please! There is someone else out here, let me in! They burnt Robbie!...Jesus Christ, Kirby, they set him ablaze in the yard!" 

You saw Kirby ponder and you told her firmly. Already having your hunch. "If you can't trust him; don't open the door…"

Kirby looked taken aback by that realization. 

Charlie looked outraged on the other side of the glass. "My God! Let me in!" He begged Kirby with fear raising his voice a few octaves. "I don't know who's doing this but it's not me! Please!" 

Kirby swallowed but with a tense look told him. "...Get away from the door, Charlie." 

"Kirby! It's me!" Charlie whimpered with desperate pleas. 

Kirby had tears in her eyes, voice strained as she ordered him. "Get away from the door, Charlie!" 

Charlie's bloody hand slid down the glass as he cried out, "It's me! P-Please, Kirby! It's meee-" He whined the last part in a desperate sob. 

Kirby shook her head, tears welling in her eyes as her voice cracked. And in the tiniest, crackling voice she told him. "...I'm sorry, I can't…" 

You saw the struggle on Kirby's face. Trust no one…This could be a set up to make you trust her completely. You just stood back away from the door or windows with your knife ready. Back against the wall. Nothing behind the wall. Trust no one.

Charlie stepped away from the door into the porch light's view. "What the fuck?!" He yelled in outrage and disbelief. 

Suddenly, Ghostface appeared behind him as Kirby screamed, "LOOK OUT BEHIND YOU!!" 

Killer grabbing Charlie and banging his head into the glass right over the bloody handprint he left. Smearing blood on the glass before dragging him away into the dark…

You and Kirby looked taken aback, both staring helplessly…Then suddenly, whoever was doing this shut off the outside light. It was pitch black both outside and in the room now as your eyes adjusted to the darkness surrounding you. Back against the wall as you swallowed hard and tried to get your mind in survival mode. 

And then…The lights turned on outside to see Charlie tied to a chair…So similar to the report of Steven Oarth's body found or that friend of the girl that worked for Randy. 

"Leave him alone!!" Kirby yelled, banging on the glass with teary eyes. "Damnit, leave him alone!" 

You stood back and watched in disbelief. Questioning everything. How did Charlie get tied up so easily? Was Kirby faking it? Where the hell is Jill? Where's Trevor? And now, you have no phone to call 911…It was on the roof…Then again, you called multiple times in 1996 that awful night and they didn't show up till a fire broke out...Apparently one body on fire in a leaf pile isn't enough. You felt cornered on your own here. The only thing driving you was to kill this Ghostface and find who they were. Honestly, at this point, in that order. Anyone dumb enough in this situation to run at you with that mask on deserved beat or stabbed and feel guilty about it later.

You saw Charlie bound and gagged in that chair. And you just stood in the darkness of the room helplessly watching. 

Kirby's phone rang. Charlie's contact as she answered. In the silence of the room, you could hear the Ghostface's voice on the line talk to Kirby. 

"Tell YN heads are gonna roll tonight! Tell YN this is all because of her! Or maybe she wants to take his place? I promise to be quick." 

You gritted your teeth hearing the sadistic excitement in their voice. Oh how much you wanted to yank that phone out of Kirby's hand and tell them to stop being a coward and come get you then…But you knew better. Instead, you whispered to Kirby, "Keep them talking." You knew it was most likely one of them or both of them…But it could be an outside influence, someone not necessarily in the group just like Neil was. 

Kirby tearily nodded as she sucked in a breath to keep Ghostface on the line as you snuck out of the dark room. 

—-------------------------------------

Kirby stood there as you left, shaking like a leaf. "Please, let him go." 

"I hear you like horror movies, Kirby. But do you like them as much as him?...Forget watching Stab. You get to live it!" 

Kirby's eyes widened, "No! Nononono, he's the expert, not me!" As she locked eyes with Charlie who struggled against his ties. 

"Warm up question: Jason's weapon?" 

Kirby fumbled at first in her fear stricken state. "Uuhhh, it's a machete." She released a small sniffle and touched her head.

"There, ya see? You do know the genre." The voice is entirely too sweet. Mocking her before snapping. "Michael Myers?!" 

"Uh, butcher knife." 

"Leatherface?!" 

"A Chainsaw! Please!" Kirby answered faster, desperate to save her friend as a small sob escaped her. 

"Just ask YN if you need some help. Freddy Krueger?!" 

"Uh, uh. Razor hands!" 

"Name the movie that started the Slasher craze. Halloween, Texas Chainsaw Massacre, Last House on the Left, or Psycho?" 

"Psycho!" Kirby growled out through her teeth before the voice aggressively cut her off as Kirby kept pacing the doors window looking at Charlie. 

"NONE of the above! Peeping Tom 1960 directed by Michael Powe; first movie to ever put the audience in the killer's POV!" 

"Wha-" Kirby's breath caught in her throat as she clutched her head. "What? Please! Nononono, please just ask me one more question, just one more!" 

"...Alright Kirby. Then it's time for your last chance question …" The voice so sinister on the other line as Kirby softly cried to herself. "Name the remake of the groundbreaking horror movie in which the villain-" 

"Uh Halloween-" Kirby shook her head while frantically going over every horror remake she knew. "Texas Chainsaw, Dawn of the Dead, Hills have.. Eyes-" She scrunched her face forcing this out while trying to scrap her brain for every last straw she could grasp. "Uh Amityville horror, Last House on the Left, F-Friday the 13th, Nightmare on Elm Street, My Bloody Valentine, When a Stranger Calls, Prom Night, Black Christmas, House of Wax, The Fog, Uh…Uh Piranha!...It's one of those, right? Right?!" She demanded while staring out the window at Charlie. 

…The line went dead silent. Everything stopped as the line was quiet, no attacks, no taunts. 

"I was right?" Kirby gritted her teeth to go outside. "I was fucking right." 

She opened the door, looked around, before rushing to her bound friend. "Hold on Charlie." She removed his tape from his mouth as he gasped and groaned at the feeling. Kirby quickly worked on untying him as she spoke. "He tried to trick me but I fucking won!" She smiled a bit as she got his hands free. Looking cautiously around herself in the dark as she tried to get the tape undone on his wrists and ankles. She helped him up and told him, "It's gonna be okay! It's-" 

"Kirby." He said her name like it was a chore. "This is making a move." 

Kirby gasped as she felt searing pain…A knife Charlie had hidden plunging deep into her abdomen. She choked on tears and air…And her eyes darted to the blood on his white shirt that he claimed was from an attack by the killer…It shifted as he stabbed and she saw a bloody gauze thickly wrapped up where the blood had soaked through from earlier…From us shooting him in the barn…She remembered him acting odd, noticing him wincing a bit when he sat down earlier but she thought it was nerves from stress…My God…It really was Charlie. 

He killed his best friend Robbie. He stole Robbie's Dad's Crossbow. He stabbed Gale. He killed Randy Meeks…It was him.

Kirby's teary eyes looked at him desperately for an answer to the madness as she choked on her sobs of pain. He jerked it back out. 

"Four years of classes and now you notice me?! All those times at the video store that you could talk Randy's ear off about horror movies like he's a fucking Messiah of horror while ignoring me?! All those years of teasing and leading me on in the friendzone and now you care?!" He demanded with angry tears in his own eyes as Kirby gripped his shoulder in pain gasping for air with wide eyes. Charlie yelled before plunging it back in her again. "Stupid bitch! It's too late!!" 

Charlie gripped onto Kirby as her body went lax. Tears and choked whimpers escaping her as the pain felt like shocks coursing through her. 

Charlie shhed her as he held her in a soft voice, "Shh, shhh. I know, I know. It's okay, take your time…Doesn't happen as fast in real life as it does in the movies, I know." 

He smirked a bit as Kirby could do nothing but feel pain as the shock of all this slapped her in the face… 

"C-C-Charlie…" 

He brutally killed Olivia to look like Tatum's death. He hosted the party. He massacred Randy. Stabbed Gale. Set his so-called best friend on fire…Now? He was stabbing her to death and killing their entire friend group plus YN. 

"Just like Sidney Prescott …Shh…I bet she suffered in that house, huh? Stab had her die instantly but I bet she gasped in pain too when Billy plunged his knife in her." He softly told Kirby. 

He then whispered something in Kirby's ear that made her eyes widen…

Kirby choked out pained gasps before Charlie shook his head and shoved Kirby off his knife to let her lay on the ground. Taking gasping breaths like a fish out of water as a pool of blood.

Charlie looked close to crying and ran a hand through his long hair while he stalked back to the house. The night wasn't over. 

—--------------------------------------

You tried to look for Jill, Trevor, your phone but couldn't find any. You put your small knife back getting  a much bigger one off the counter…Kitchen knife in hand and backup knife in your boot.

You came downstairs, that front door still open as you rounded the corner.   Opening the door to the bottom level Kirby was at last…But stopped yourself from calling out to her. It was too quiet…You wanted this Ghostface dead or caught. Wanted to help these kids. But everything in you screamed get in the car and get away. 

You took a steadying breath and backed up the stairs a few steps. Knife in hand, eyes darting before someone grabbed you in a chokehold so tight you gagged as your knife clattered down the steps and you were jerked backwards.

Charlie's arm had you in a tight grip with his knife at your face. Blood staining his white shirt…And he seemed in pain with the arm he was holding you with. Blood on the shoulder you shot. 

…You knew it. 

He was pressed against a wall as he mumbled in your ear, “You know you learn a lot when you watch movies over and over. All the plots are about to ridicule you…Think you're gonna get away? Think anyone gets away?” His lips near your ear as you gritted your teeth and slammed him back against a wall. 

As soon as he hit the wall he let you go and you grabbed your knife from your boot as you went to run out the door. You were getting out. You were outnumbered now. Just until help got here. 

…But you got intercepted…When someone plunged a knife deep into your stomach.

You had been shot and stabbed but never in your gut like that. It knocked the wind from you, your body freezing up in pain as you fell back against the staircase wall. A choking gasp escaped your lips as you clutched your stomach. You went to slash at them, jolted by the pain you felt the second you moved your arm as it radiated down to your abdomen. Ghostface easily smacked that small knife out of your hand.

It clattered to the ground feet away and you felt all air leave your lungs.

The Ghostface came towards you, lowering their knife before taking off that damn mask you learned to resent…

Long dark hair cascaded out first followed by a fair complexion and a smirk on full pink lips…And your mouth dropped.

…Jill.

You shook your head. Shocked because she wasn't even on Randy's radar. And then your face soured as you realized this was just a decade ago all over again. Another one of Sidney's family is either jealous or wanting revenge.

“Hello, Yn…” She tilted her head with a smirk. “Surprised?” 

She got inside her mask to show a small camera. “See this? This is the part where the cameras…” It beeped as she held it up smugly. “Turn off.” 

“Good.” Was the only thing you heard before a man's hand jerked her by the head and slammed her forehead against the staircase railing as she screamed in pain and anger. Billy had a firm grip on her hair.

“Jill!” Charlie went to defend her before Stu grabbed him by the throat and jerked him back.

 “Where you goin’?” Stu taunted. Knife jerking back ready to stab Charlie repeatedly at a moment's notice. “After party's just starting man. Pretty lame if you ask me. Mine was a rager.” Stu jeered with an insane grin.

You couldn't help the relieved smile as you clutched your bleeding abdomen…They actually came back for you. They heard your call and came back.

The sound of a knife jerking out of a pocket sounded as Billy readied his hunting knife. Jill cursed and struggled. “Time to join the other idiots.” He murmured.

Stu grinned, “Hell yeah, man! Number one, baby! We'll always be the one-” 

Right when Billy went to plunge his knife into Jill's side she jerked with a scream as he barely got her…Before a gunshot ran out and you saw Stu jerk back with a shocked expression on his face.

Charlie pulled out a gun leveled it behind him shooting again as Stu got shot right in his rib area jerking back from it before Charlie went to shoot again and Stu tripped backwards over a spare chair landing through the glass sliding door with enough force to fall through it.

“Motherfucker!” Billy hissed out ready to slit Jill's throat and Charlie quickly pointed the gun at us; grabbed us by the back of the neck.

Damn…This has happened too many times before.

“Let her go…Or YN dies.” Charlie mumbled, nervously licking at his lips as he fidgeted with you in his grip. You went to struggle, trying to elbow him and Charlie shoved it to your temple as you groaned in pain.

Billy really considered…He glared, Jill still in his grasp. Until Jill stabbed him in the leg. He yelled, accidentally letting her go as he clutched his thigh.

Charlie jerked you into the kitchen as Jill hissed, seeing a bit of blood where Billy barely stabbed her side before she kicked him to follow Charlie and You. “Move, asshole!” 

Billy growled in his throat as he readied his knife to stab the ever loving hell outta her before Charlie pointed his gun at him while still having a painful grip on you. “You heard her.”

Billy looked ready to take the risk, not one to back down but hearing Stu groaning in pain among the shattered pieces of glass on the porch and you yelping when Charlie shoved you with too much force into the counter. Right where your stab wound was…He relented. 

Walking as Jill told him. “Give me the knife.” 

“Bite me, bitch.” Billy scoffed. 

Charlie threatened with the gun again. “Come on, what's a knife gonna do with a gun anyways? Try to think.” 

Billy scowled before dropping the knife.

Jill smirked. “Not totally stupid. Now walk.” She ordered shoving him as Billy dragged himself forward with her knife leveled at him and her pocketing his for now. 

Jill called out Charlie's name as he forced Billy to stand beside you near the kitchen counter. “Already taken care of.” Charlie told her while shutting doors and she stood near you both with the knife. 

“Get that other douchebag for the line up.” She ordered.

Charlie went to Stu dragging him through glass by his ankles as Stu groaned in pain, teeth clenched. His shirt too dark and bloody to tell where he was shot before Charlie heaved him with a groan and shoved him up to stand. Then shoving him near the counter as Stu tried to swing on him and missed. Just hissing in pain as he caught himself next to Billy, and to your surprise, Billy instinctively reached out to steady him.

Charlie blew air past his lips with a smirk and showed a camera from his pocket. “Damn, he's a big boy, huh Jill?…And guess what? I got great footage of my Robbie kill. Better than Marnie or Olivia even.” 

“Good. We'll cut and upload it later to make it all traceable to Trevor.” Jill replied with the knife near your face.

You panted in pain while Billy stood near you leaning on the counter. His dark eyes scanning the room for any way to get leverage. Stu gripped the counter, sweating but looking murderously at both teens holding you all hostage right now.

If Charlie didn't have that gun? This would've been over with both of them dead. If YOU had your goddamn gun this could've been over before Billy and Stu even got here!

You stared at Jill, seething once the shock wore off realizing the last few days you and Randy were so nice to her; you were talking to the killer all along. Her and Charlie didn't seem to recognize Billy and Stu or if they did they weren't saying.

“Speaking of which-” Charlie opened the doors to the closet and dragged out Trevor who he threw on the ground bound and gagged with tape.

“Remind you of anything?” Charlie retorted towards you.

Yeah, did it ever. Only this time Billy and Stu were just as much victims as you were.

Charlie ripped the tape off as Trevor begged, “Jill pleas-” 

“Shut up!” She cut him off with a yell as she stripped herself of the Ghostface robe.

Charlie got closer towards you, blood on him. “See everything I learned I learned from you.” 

Stu shoved him away. “Get the fuck away from her, man.” He growled out in pain but this was a man that took so many stabbings when younger and still attacked you and flipped you both over a couch. 

Charlie scoffed but he knew who had the power right now as he smirked. But…He looked at Stu longer. Almost trying to connect the dots. 

Jill brought Charlie back as she mumbled, “Who are these guys anyways? Don't tell me they're your side pieces or something.” Jill jeered with a malicious smirk as you all said nothing. “You think my cousin Sidney had a shitty boyfriend, YN!? Here's one that fucks you, dumps you…And doesn't even make you famous.” She gave a wry smirk before kicking Trevor in his shoulder as he cried out.

Billy's eyes narrowed and his nostrils flared at hearing Jill was his old girlfriend's cousin. You could tell he wanted to kill her that much more. 

Trevor cried out, “The fuck, Jill!? I loved you!” 

Jill rolled her eyes, “Shut the fuck UP already!” Before kicking him multiple times as he yelled out in pain each blow.

Stu mumbled to Billy and you, “Mean ass girl, isn't she?” Sarcastically while he huffed and held his side in pain.

Billy asked, "How you holding up?"

"By my last bit of skin, man...Fuck. He got me in the side and lower belly." Stu huffed out in a wince.

"Fuck." Billy scoffed. "...You know what to do still?

Stu smirked, "Yeah..."

Charlie gave the gun to Jill, “I'm sure the cops would want you to have this, Jill. For your protection.” 

The second that gun wasn't aimed, Billy and Stu tried to charge Charlie for it. Their street smarts and instincts ready to attack in pain or not but before they could Jill stabbed you in the gut again and the most strangled cry escaped you. It hurt your throat to scream with such a primal pain and it instantly made Billy and Stu falter just enough for Charlie to aim the gun at them.

You cried, tears in your eyes at that god awful pain as you clutched your lower gut. 

Jill glared, “Do that shit again and I'll stab her in the throat.” She tilted her head. “Who are you anyways? Shouldn't you both be dead?” 

Billy and Stu had no choice but to back off. And when Jill said that…Charlie's entire demeanor changed. 

“Oh my God…No way…I-I thought you looked familiar but-” Charlie drew out like some star struck fan.

Jill's eyes widened too before she laughed loudly. “Shut the fuck up!...No way, Gale was right? Gale Weather's was actually right about you, YN!?” 

You sniffed back tears, gritting your teeth in contempt but not answering her. 

Charlie pointed the gun to each of them. “Bill Loomis…And Stu Macher. It's such a privilege to meet you two in the flesh!” 

Billy sneered at him, “Great, another dick rider.” He grumbled under his breath. 

Jill chuckled, “I can't believe it.” As even Trevor looked flabbergasted from the floor. “Wow, YN…Little Miss American Sweetheart is actually a treacherous lying snake. I mean, hiding two of the famous Woodsboro killers under everyone's nose and ruining Gale Weather's career over it?...Under different circumstances I'd applaud you.” 

Charlie looked momentarily freaked out. “Jill…Jill, what are we gonna do I mean…This changes our plans! I-” 

Jill took his gun. “Shhhh.” She softly told him in a way to calm him down. “It'll still work, Baby. Remember? I'm YN and you're Randy…Now, Trevor doesn't have to be Billy. We can work with this. I mean, who is going to question who the killers were with Billy and Stu here?” 

Charlie's breath hitched as he forced a smile. “And this time, Randy gets the girl.” 

She kissed him. Looking at you with the gun pointed the entire time.

Stu and Billy sneered. And the idea hit you. Charlie…Charlie you shot Charlie in the barn. He wants to be the ‘new Randy’...He was jealous and killed Randy because Randy got Kirby's attention, Randy was the movie expert, Randy was a cool nerd in school unlike Charlie. 

You shook your head in disgust. “You'll never be Randy…Do you hear me? He was better than you in every fucking way!” You forced out through tears and clenched teeth. They stopped kissing as you practically snarled at Jill. “And you will never be me! You're nothing but a jealous attention seeking litt-” 

You cried out as she pistol whipped you upside the face hard enough to jerk your head and taste blood in your mouth. Billy and Stu had to stop themselves from lunging at her, remembering the gun.

Jill looked at you with a glare as you coughed and wiped blood off your lip. Swearing she just knocked out a tooth. 

“Don't you get it? You're old news.” She gave plainly. 

You stood back up, blood on the corner of your lip as you tiredly clutched your stomach.

Trevor cried out from on the floor, “Jill, baby! Please, this isn't you!” 

Jill gave him a bored look. Leveling the gun at him and holding the knife towards you. You swore she was gonna shoot him but instead…She looked at Charlie.

“Charlie…Ya know, now with us being able to pin this on thee Billy Loomis and Stu Macher…Trevor's role can change. We don't need another Billy or Stu…But we need a James. I mean, every final girl needs some fucked up shit to happen to her like her boyfriend being mutilated. Media will eat that up.” 

Your eyes widened and you shook your head. 

Charlie even faltered a moment. 

Jill glared at him. “Do not chicken out on me now, Charlie!” 

Charlie just shook his head swallowing. “Not chickening out…Just gotta make sure we film this. Are we good on time?” He started putting the Ghostface outfit back on.

Jill smiled, “Oh yeah, we're perfect.” 

Trevor looked terrified and so did you as Charlie quickly threw Jill's outfit on, getting the mask off the counter and turned the inner camera on. He dropped down to Trevor and slid the knife threatenly over his neck. 

“D-Don't!” You begged on deaf ears as Trevor gave a blood curdling scream as Charlie started doing what Billy and Stu did to your boyfriend back in 1996 in that field. Billy and Stu seemed both unfazed or annoyed at best while you closed your eyes and covered your ears screaming over Trevor, “STOP IT!!” 

The sounds of him screaming in pain, flesh being ripped as Charlie pulled while sawing, the smell of blood. You felt ready to scream yourself as Billy to your shock drew you near with a hand on your shoulder protectively so you didn't do something stupid like lash out. Him and Stu watched the whole time. While this was the one traumatic thing that happened to you indirectly that you thankfully didn't see even if James was a shitty boyfriend. You closed your eyes and Billy had a death grip on you. You felt sick whether from bloodlose or this was debatable.

You shakily looked when the screams died down and wished you hadn't. Seeing Trevor bloody and half his face skinned off as he seemed to tremble and writhe as his body went into shock from the pain. You wanted to pass out or throw up and knowing Billy and Stu gleefully did this that night while calling you and…And hearing James sobbing and begging you to help him.

Billy's grip tightened on your shoulder as if he knew. His eyes narrowed. Stu tried inching towards a door and Jill shot the gun near the door as everyone flinched or ducked.

She said nothing, not wanting her voice on camera. As Charlie peeled his face the rest of the way off then stabbed him from sternum to groin as he choked and jerked and spasmed in pain on the floor.

And Jill just numbly watched…Watched a boy that loved her get this done to him.

Charlie took off the mask and shut off the camera with a bewildered smirk. “Holy shit…That was awesome.” He held up Trevor's face. “Hey, YN; wanna reenact TCM 2?” And tried to threatenly put Trevor's face on yours as you instinctively hid in Billy's chest. Trying to face away with an uncharacteristic whimper at what you were just forced to see. Like you were a scared teen girl all over again.

“I will staple that face to yours if you even try it! It'll be one hell of an improvement!” Stu jeered and weakly shoved him back as Billy put an arm over you.

 However, Billy gripped you and forced you to turn around. You knew it was his way of silently telling you to be strong and you forced yourself to not look at Trevor or the face in Charlie's hand and instead glared at Jill. Feeling weak with blood loss and yet you had so much hate for her. 

Jill smiled, “Now THAT is going to get views.” She looked at you. “See with you the world just heard about what happened but with us…They're gonna see it. It's gonna be a worldwide sensation. I mean, people gotta see this shit!” Jill chuckled. “It's not like anyone reads anymore.” 

Charlie took off the glove and showed you guys a video of…Of Randy being killed. Of him on the ground backpedaling with an arrow in him. All alone in the dark. 

“No please! Don't-” He got cut off choking in pain as he was stabbed repeatedly. “D-Don't hurt them…Don't hurt my kids and wife…D-D-Don't hurt YN…Please-” He pleaded with blood near his mouth before screaming in pain again as Charlie stabbed him repeatedly and the video cut off…To a close up of him hanging…Still twitching barely alive as he hung there…Guts out.

Tears welled in your eyes as your breathing got shallow. You were trembling with so much rage and mind shattering devastation. Seeing your best friend in his final moments tonight in pain begging for his life…For yours even after your argument. Even after everything he didn't hate you.

“...I'm gonna kill you…You goddamn pieces of shit…” You forced out shakily through your teeth as tears rolled down your cheeks. “I'M GONNA FUCKING KILL YOU!!” Billy and Stu had to jerk you back, Billy the least injured having you in almost a headlock before you got shot. 

Jill laughed, “God, you are so dramatic! So that goody two shoes love and peace for all; is that some PR move or-” She mocked as Billy jerked you and you were trying to fight him even in ungodly pain to get to her or Charlie.

“Stop! Now!” Billy ordered in your ear. “...We'll get them…” He reassured while still holding you back as you stopped struggling and glared daggers at them both tears rolling down your face.

Charlie informed you. “Stole Robbie's Dad's crossbow. I mean that guy on Walking Dead just gave me major ideas and Robbie also…Lured Randy back to the party by recording you and Kirby. Poor kid had no idea he was helping me get Randy tonight. Jill took care of things at her house and Kirby's phone.” 

You could only glare at him.

Jill told you. “We're gonna have fame you never even dreamed of.” 

Charlie looked at Jill in adoration. “You were the perfect victim, Jill.” 

Jill laughed like a teen girl getting away with sneaking out past curfew while Trevor bled out on the floor. “I was SO believable today, wasn't I? I mean, I told so many lies that I actually started to believe them…I really think that I was born for this.” 

Stu huffed, looking tired and woozy himself. “Congratulations.” He sarcastically monotoned. 

You got away from Billy as he let you go and you demanded weakly, “How could you do this?...Sidney-” 

“Shut up!” Jill demanded, her smiling dropping. “Do you even know what it was like in this family being related to Sidney Prescott?! Sidney this and Sidney that and Sidney, Sidney, Sidney! She was always just SO FUCKING SPECIAL!” She screeched.  “And then you…” She pointed the knife at you. “I hated you just as much. What? You survive bad luck and get all this attention? Big house somewhere, never have to work, all these interviews and book deals because your life was hard?...You had your 15 minutes of fame NOW I WANT MINE!” She yelled.

Billy groaned as Stu tiredly mumbled to him. “Told you. Fame. You owe me 50 bucks.” 

You ignored them and stared at her, shaking your head mumbling. “You'll slip. They always do.” 

Jill gave a wry smirk, looking back at Billy and Stu who technically did get away with it before saying, “Come on Charlie, let's get this over with.” 

Stu was losing a lot of blood and so were you as you both gripped the counters and Billy wasn't able to run. You all were pretty much sitting ducks right now.

Charlie handed Jill the knife. He started breathing puffs of air out of his mouth, bouncing on his feet as Jill told him loudly, “You've gotta be strong…And hold still! Okay?” 

He nervously breathed, “Old School, like Billy and Stu.” 

Billy made a face and Stu despite his condition let out a mocking laugh. Billy added over Stu's laughter, “That's right, real deep too. Don't be pussies now in front of your idols-”  

Charlie closed his eyes saying “Come on, get it up-” Before slapping himself across the face multiple times.

Stu laughed silently hanging his head and leaning on the counter for support.

You stood there thinking you felt like you were in a Twilight Zone right now or a damn insane asylum from back in the day while Stu and Billy had sadistic grins on their faces eager to see some ‘fan’ that gave them injuries get stabbed.

Charlie smacked his shoulder shakily yelling at Jill, “Shoulder me, shoulder me! Come on! GET IT UP-” 

You gasped with a slight satisfaction yourself when Jill plunged the knife right into his chest. Billy went from watching with interest to smirking with a dark look in his eye and Stu through his sweat and pain grinned ear to ear.

Charlie choked a gasp, holding his bleeding chest. “The heart?!- T-That's not how we rehearsed it!” 

You finally spoke with an edge to your voice. “You said it. Billy and Stu…If Trevor became James. And Robbie was supposed to be Stu…” 

Jill smirked to herself seeing it dawn on Charlie. She told him, “I know it's going against the script…But this is a franchise. Not a remake. And what the media loves is a sole survivor.” She whispered cruelly. “Robbie was your partner. Both of you jealous little outcasts but you…You were the idea man.” 

She plunged the knife in again as Charlie gasped harshly falling to his knees. Hyperventilating as he bled. Shock written all over his face before collapsing in a pathetic heap on the ground. 

You didn't care if it made you a monster too…There was some satisfaction. Especially when you remembered what he showed you on that phone. “You'll never be Randy, Charlie.” Was the last thing you said as Stu almost gave a little hollar of glee and Billy chuckled under his breath watching Charlie be betrayed and now only seconds from dying.

You glanced at Jill holding your stomach and like Stu things were getting blurry for you. “So…You killed all your friends…Now what?” You asked the bigger picture of what happens when all this is said and done.

Jill glared at you. “My Friends?” 

She walked up to you and Billy and Stu tensed up a bit. It was 3 against 1. 2 grown men, a grown woman and one teen girl…Problem was 1 grown man looked ready to pass out, the grown woman wasn't far behind him, the other grown man had a fucked up leg now that couldn't move as fast and the little teen bitch from hell still had the gun.

“What world are you living in? I don't need friends, I need fans ….DON'T YOU GET IT!?” She snapped at you. “This has never been about killing you…This is about becoming you. I mean for fucksake all my friends and boyfriend had to die.” 

“And your mother?” You asked, trying to be brave but staring crazy in the face again after so long…Worked on your mind.

“Collateral damage.” She mused with nothing in her dark eyes…Just nothing. “That's sick right? Well, sick is the new sane.” She whispered with a small smile eyeing you.

Even Billy and Stu didn't kill their own parents.

“You had your 15 minutes now I WANT MINE!” She yelled in your face. “I mean, what am I supposed to do? Go to college, grad school, work? Look around. We're all in the public eye now, we're all on the internet…How do you think people become famous anymore!? You don't have to achieve ANYTHING!” She gestured to you. “You just gotta have fucked up shit happen to you.” 

You stared at her in shock at her logic of wanting to be you. To have your life. To want to be the victim, to want to have people whisper about you or treat you horribly or treat you like glass. To have a target on your back forever.

All of this…ALL of this pain…Because some brat wanted attention and to get by easy in life?

Billy and Stu looked just as bewildered as you. Stu finally gave a humorously dry chuckle while trying to breathe, still holding his wounds. “I mean…Okay idea but-” 

She instantly shot him.

You froze as Stu got shot somewhere in the abdomen and went flying back. Billy went to lunge at Jill and got shot as well. He growled in pain and hit the counter. Wincing and slipping on his bloody palms trying to keep himself up. Stu laid limply and you tried not to hyperventilate at how messed up this was becoming because of one damn girl. Stu groaned on the ground coughing as he weakly held himself.

Jill laughed, “I WAS going to kill you all and blame Charlie and Trevor or Charlie and Robbie but now?...No…I think it doesn't matter if these two idiots live. Great! Because no one will question it. NO ONE. Billy Loomis and Stu Macher survived? They clearly did this and almost killed a poor innocent girl after slaughtering her friends.” 

You shook your head with fearful tears in your eyes. Billy glared daggers at her sneering, “You dumb little fuck…You think I'm going down after 15 years?!” He grabbed a kitchen knife and took the risk of throwing it. 

It went right into the arm that held the gun as she screamed and he instantly with his adrenaline pumping tried to grab it…You went for it too this time to help him instead of the other few times.

You gasped as a sharp painful cry escaped him…Jill stabbed him in the abdomen and jerked sideways. 

“Billy!-” You went to attack her too, hoping for an opening. ANYTHING! You were gonna die and-

She jerked the knife out of her arm with an almost enraged scream and stabbed you when you least expected it. She made it look like you had an opening to grab that gun and maybe you did? But her determination was just that much stronger.

She plunged the knife deep into you as you saw Billy had tried to get up multiple times and kept slipping while trying to hold his own wound close and slumped down gasping for air…Stu wasn't moving from what you could see…And you just got stabbed again. Deep. Blood spurted over your hand. This felt higher than before.

“Sorry, there's only room for one final girl and let's face it…Your time's up.” She looked so pleased with herself. So giddy as you collapsed onto your stomach.

You laid there trembling, barely breathing with your eyes wide open in fear. You heard footsteps seeing Jill walking away.

Billy looked just as bad but your eyes locked with each other on the kitchen floor. “B-B-Bill-” You couldn't even get his name out.

He shhed you. Cringing and as quietly as he could gritted his teeth to drag himself over to you as Jill started going ahead and hurting herself…Absolutely trying to kill herself by stabbing you hitting her head on a glass picture frame while yelling in pain. Trying to make it all look like she was brutally attacked.

Billy shhed you again when tears started falling from your eyes…After so long of being numb…You didn't wanna die. 

“I'm…I'm scared…Billy-” You just admitted it. Trembling like a scared child while bleeding out on the ground. Things were getting harder to focus on as he laid next to you on his back to keep his guts from pressing against the gash. 

You never thought you'd ever give him the satisfaction. Not at that shed, not in your house, not in the closet, Stu's house, Windsor, the motel- Never thought you'd give him the satisfaction of admitting you were scared of dying but you were.

Your hand trembled uncontrollably and he shhed you again. Weakly telling you, “Hey…Shh…It's alright…Don't cry, she'll hear you. If she stabs us in the head or throat or heart we're done, kid.” 

You shook your head trying not to sob as your head felt like you were gonna faint. 

“You're tough. Okay?...You can do this…You've always been a tough bitch to beat…I should know…Don't let that brat win. Don't let me or Stu win either…” He told you with heavy tired eyes. His head lolling to the side to gaze at you. Both of you held eye contact before he reached out and so did you.

“Billy…I-...I never meant…I always wanted-” You knew what you wanted to say but…Getting it out.

He stopped you with another soft shh and held your hand. He held it tight. His own fear of dying present but his urge to put on a brave face for his ego…For you too; was stronger. It's like he knew what you meant and he released a soft breath of air as if a giant weight was off his shoulders.

“Mine…” He mumbled with a small tired smile. “You've always been mine…” And then his eyes just…Closed.

Mark entered your mind and you couldn't control the small whimper as you trembled Jill crashing into things in the background.

“...Billy?” You whispered. Trying to move but couldn't as you held his hand so tight it hurt. “Billy, wake up. Please…” You whimpered as you were so tired…So so tired.

The last thing you saw was black…And glass shattering as Jill threw herself on the coffee table…And then sirens outside.

#finally #scream #stu macher #billy loomis #my writing #scream fanfiction #yn fanfic #she her yn #my stories #fours a franchise #scream 4

[nautilusopus]

Do you have any advice for anyone trying to get into writing?

Not really a motivation thing or anything, just for improvement. Your writing has captivated me, and I felt like it's better to get advice from an author that is reachable than reading a ton of articles online regurgitating the same steps.

Aw, thank you, I'm honoured!

Apologies if this is kind of a mess, I mostly went through stuff I come back to a lot that helps me. Also tumblr seems to have removed the ability to do indented bullets. Fucking great.

In General:

When I'm first starting out writing a story I'm excited about, I usually don't do things in order -- I'll instead pick one scene I can see extremely clearly and am super excited about, one of the things that made me want to write the story to begin with, and then build the entire outline out from there to set it up (what needs to happen to set the scene up exactly how I want it to be? How do I justify that stuff? What would happen afterwards that would add to the scene even more in retrospect?) This not only helps keep the energy going for parts of the story that might not necessarily be fun to plan, but will inherently cause you to start building a story that is either circumstantially or thematically building to something. It can be something as small as a single conversation but it should be the bit that you personally want to see realised most strongly.

On that note, people like when they can see foreshadowing! That's what it's there for! This has been said by other people plenty, but I'll restate it here: the audience potentially being able to piece together your twist after a while is not a failure in writing, it means you put information into a story that allowed them to engage with it and conveyed something that made sense.

I personally sometimes (but not always mostly due to laziness and because I do try to approach shit chronologically so I don't have to double back and do massive rewrites, also due to laziness) like to write big keynote moments of character arcs in full in advance once I have the whole plot more or less laid out. That way, I know what's coming emotionally speaking and can have characters start clearly building up to things, do stuff like plant specific phrases that come back in big ways or are recontextualised later on, and it makes the story feel more cohesive as a whole and helps the scene hit a whole lot harder when you do get to it. Like I said though I'm lazy and I also don't like creating more work for myself if I don't have to, and if by chance the story doesn't shake out the way I thought it would by the time I get to that moment then god is it a pain to rewrite that sort of thing.

¯\_(ツ)_/¯ Mostly I find it helps keep me focused on where it's going. It's a late stage thing though, I don't start doing this until I'm sure I know how the story will be laid out more or less chapter by chapter, which brings me to:

GO BACK AND CHECK IF YOU HAVE A MIDDLE OF YOUR STORY. ARE YOU SURE? GO BACK AND CHECK AGAIN. This is like the number one pitfall I see basically everywhere across any genre, both with fanfiction and professionally (and in movies always winds up manifesting in reviews as "the movie gets kind of aimless after a while/the third act kinda starts out of nowhere after a really slow part). People have an idea for a strong beginning, the rising action and the big dramatic moment when the stakes are raised, maybe a quiet moment in the middle reflecting on all the tension of the plot and how it's reflecting on the characters, a thing that sets off the end, probably an idea how it ends and how things resolve, et cetera -- and they will forget that at no point did they actually create any connective tissue between their plot development points. Travel! Character beats! The actual events in between big beat A and big beat B, no matter how barebones! Go back and check if you've made any!

As someone that writes a lot of heavily character-driven stuff I'm very biased here, but: in my opinion, if you have good, solid characters, they can carry even the most barebones dogshit story because they are the lenses that the audience is experiencing the world from and through, and whose actions are potentially shaping the course of the story, and of course who the reader is getting attached to. Conversely, even the richest, most lavishly detailed world and story is going to land with a thud if your characters aren't any good and don't have any more to them than making various political developments happen, because at that point you don't have a story with different elements interacting with each other to create events and tension, you have a lore wiki, which is not the same thing as a story. Maybe you could use that for a tabletop RPG, but people aren't necessarily gonna want to read it.

RELATED: JRRT was a linguist and historian first and a writer second. Lore is great and all and can help your world feel like it's a living breathing place, but think about if it's a good detail to include onscreen or not, or if it's just there to "flesh out the world". Stop to consider if this actually has a demonstrable effect on the things happening in front of the reader or not, and if anyone would notice if it were removed outright. Can some things be assumed? What might need to be explained?

Keep an eye on narrative voice versus character voice! If I stripped the dialogue tags from your story, could you still tell who was talking? Does everyone just talk like the narration? Like each other? Like you? Everyone is gonna sound like you at least a tiny bit because you're the one writing it, but at least try to keep an eye on how much you're doing that. It can be pretty boring to just listen to one guy talk the entire time across multiple mouths haha don't look at how long this post is getting shhhhhh

Any story (but especially horror, and especially especially cosmic horror), lives and dies by its suspension of disbelief. The rules don't need to be realistic because it is all made up, and they can be any rules you want, and if you establish them clearly then the audience will buy in as best they can because they want to engage with your story on its own terms (or they SHOULD grumble grumble but that's another discussion and not really something the author can control), but then once you've made them you need to stick to them, or when you do break them it should wind up meaning something.

Suspension of disbelief in horror or fantasy can be trickier, especially when it's something weird and the rules aren't even mechanically sound in their own setting. In that case, the important thing to preserve is emotional stakes the audience can buy into, about how this situation might feel to be in, or if there are any things in real life it might feel similar to. This one's more intuitive than you'd think. Sure, you might not know that the veil of reality is flimsy and all it would take to destroy it all is to get noticed by something much vaster than you could ever imagine; but you probably DO know what it's like to be one missed rent payment from losing everything and realising your safety was really all that never sound. I don't even flinch if someone's head explodes into gore in a movie, but I'll always wince and look away if someone has their fingers crushed or their eye pierced, because even though the violence is lesser I can imagine that happening to me and I don't like it one bit!

Horror can potentially struggle with this pretty badly. Unless you're writing a slasher where the point is to watch some dumb teens bite it, your movie won't actually be scary unless the audience can in some way feel endangered, and they won't be able to do that if what is going on is too disconnected from anything a human could experience. Writers tend to get fixated on making a Really Gross Scary Thing(TM) or Biggest Evilest Threat Evar(TM) and assuming their job is done.

There's no one right or wrong way to do something, but be aware that sometimes things tend to come up in stories a lot for a reason. The tools you have are just tools. Complaining a story has tropes in it is like complaining a tree is made of wood.

That said, if you're thinking of your story entirely in terms of which tropes you want to use, it may be time to take a step back and think about what you actually want to accomplish rather than mushing the same paste into the same holes for the 800th time (more on that later).

Dialogue. If it's something you struggle with, remember that chances are you're a person that knows how to talk, and so you inherently know how to create dialogue. The biggest pitfall I see is people overthinking it trying to "Write Dialogue in this Story" rather than just typing an idea the way they know inherently that it would be typed. If you wanna try and capture a much different voice, spend time listening to people -- and I mean really listening. People double back, correct themselves, trail off, change their train of thoughts in the middle, do more or less of these things when they're in a certain emotional state depending on their personality.

Frankly I'd spend time listening to real people anyway. Spend too much time online and characters wind up sounding like Twitter threads, or worst case scenario you wind up with perfectly articulated ideas and Therapy Speak. A character might not have the vocabulary you, someone who has been online for eighty to ninety years (est) would to convey specific ideas, and not everyone is perfectly self-aware about what they're saying. Someone's probably more likely to say "fuck you I had a bad day" than they are to go "gosh i dislike how much your own success reminds me of how my own mother held me to impossibly high standards so i have very high rejection sensitivity which is why i'm lashing out". Or, again, if someone does talk like that make it mean something. It could be a good example of someone either being insincere and going through keywords to shut someone up, or someone that's very socially awkward giving a rehearsed speech, and those are all potentially interesting ways to then take a story.

(Sidenote because I see this come up sometimes: Hate to single out a single genre here, but anime and by extent video games but mostly anime is a bad place to learn to write dialogue from -- if you're listening to a dub, they had to translate stuff from Japanese and then make it fit lip flaps on a screen, and if you're watching subs, not only were the subs translated but anime trends heavily towards melodrama and Japanese people typically do not speak that way.)

You gotta know the rules before you can break 'em! Read books. Actual books I mean, not just fanfic. Broaden your horizons. When you start breaking rules it will be because it's what you want to do.

Personal nitpicks, some fandom specific and some not. I'm aware some of these are basic but also you never know who might need to hear this stuff so:

Hentai is not a good place to learn about writing actual sex. It's a great place to learn about sex that is following pure porn rules, in which case go nuts and godspeed soldier, but unless you want your scene to come off as either unintentionally rapey or full of nonsensical leaps of moon logic when you're trying to write an otherwise somewhat grounded setting, you should probably read actual books meant for actual adults about fucking, or pull from your own experiences if you're able.

* This isn't advice but I want it known at this point I've seen at least three fanfics clearly written by a middle schooler that's never fucked before and honest-to-god genuinely seems to think some degree of omegaverse is how actual sex works. So that'll be interesting to encounter going forward. If you aren't committing to porn rules (there's that "the rules can be anything you want so long as they're internally consistent" bit again!) do research is my point.

If you started your character creation with their outfit and can tell me their star sign, bust measurements, the four shirts plus jacket plus socks plus shoes they're wearing, the kind of weapon they can summon, eye colour, hair colour, skin colour, height and weight, their agility score versus their magic score, and their favourite ice cream flavour, and yet you have one paragraph about "personality", your focus might not be in the right place and you are making an MMO character. That's fine for something you're going to be staring at the back of for 200 hours but maybe not for someone you're going to need to live inside the head of. Start with personality, and you can tailor all that fun back cover dossier stuff around who that person is and how it would inform the way they dress.

Bad child dialogue is my biggest pet peeve personally and I will immediately put a book down when I encounter it lol. A bigger portion of people are around children than you think and will notice if you've never interacted with a kid before. Children are not cavemen and do not talk like them. The gaps in their vocabulary tend to come from them having a limited amount of it and adapting new phrases into the few existing frameworks they have. This carries over to their psychology, by the way.

Specific to cosmic horror: you can't just make a Gross Thing, your horrors need actual motivations. Nobody cares how big of a squid you can invent, and going "uhhh it's so scary I don't have to bother can't describe it" can only work so many times and is not an excuse to at least not try to describe something. How it makes the characters feel, what the experience is like, whatever. Now, you don't ever have to tell the readers directly what the motivations of your old gods are, but you the writer should come up with some to shape their behaviour so the readers can see the inscrutable ghosts of clear patterned actions that almost make sense yet remain just outside human comprehension oooooooooo. Also readers can generally tell when that's missing and all you have is Large Squid Scary doing random gross shit so it's not an excuse to skimp.

Stop using hair epithets. Stop using hair epithets. Stop using hair epithets. Stop using hair epithets. Stop using hair epithets. Stop using hair epithets. We have pronouns. We have context clues. We have sentence structures that convey what is going on to the reader. We have nouns. If you are going to constantly refer to your character as The Brunette it better be hugely massively goddamn significant that her hair is brown or it's gonna become clear real fast that you just ran out of ways to phrase things and it's gonna take people right out of the story. If the only way you can think of to describe your character in an intense emotional scene is "uhhh this is the one with the brown hair remember I hope you didn't forget" then that's code fucking red. Stop using hair epithets. Stop using hair epithets. Stop using hair epithets. Stop using hair epithets. Stop using hair epithets. Stop using hair epithets.

And the two biggest bit of advice I can come up with for people trying to improve their craft that I give out every time:

1 Have a point. Have a clearly identified reason in your mind about what you want to accomplish with this story. This will help you get your thoughts in order when you are stuck, it will help you outline the story if you're not sure where you want it to go next, it will help other people troubleshoot with you if you aren't sure how to start solving a problem, it will help you make decisions about what and what not to include to help it feel complete, and it will help motivate you when you start to lose track of why you even started this project. Saying "well it's a Vampire AU and I want to do Hurt/Comfort with an ambiguous ending and a BAMF!Scrongus with Soft!Cromgle" doesn't tell me a damn thing, either as a reader OR as someone potentially trying to help you whip the thing into shape. That's a bit like asking, "How do I write a Cute yet Cool character?" like bitch I don't know it's your story there are a million ways to write this stuff and yes that is a real question I got asked once.

Instead, have an actual, identifiable goal that is personal to you, what you want to write, and what you have to say. That can be anything from "I have a lot of strong opinions about why gender is, across the breadth of experiences possible with human consciousness, a zero sum game that must be internally and deliberately engaged with before one is then able to determine their own relationship to it" to "oh man i love the idea of Mark from Accounts Receivable one day going apeshit and beating Jake from Auditing half to death with an office chair and the fallout that would generate and maybe also someone FINALLY FINALLY asks him for the first time 'hey dude are you okay do you wanna talk'" to "god it'd be so hot if this guy were bent over a pool table drooling onto the velvet and i am going to do everything in my power to facilitate that somehow". Either way, clear mission statement and goal that isn't just telling me what tags you're slapping on the finished product! If you have that kind of clarity of vision it will come across in your piece and resonate with people because it's a complete thought that the work is able to deliberately showcase, instead of just churning out Content™ that fits certain templates that are popular, even if you like said templates. What do you have to say? Why did this idea stick in your brain so hard you had to write it down and tell the world about it? What parts of it especially did you want to convey so badly? Show us!

2 Writing is vulnerability by proxy. Until we get the technology for brain uploading, you are only going to ever be you in your own head with your own thoughts, experiences, biases, and worldviews. If you think you can write something without exposing a lot of really revealing shit about yourself to an audience that notices it, perish that thought now. Quentin Tarantino and HP Lovecraft weren't slick about it and you won't be either. This is neither a bad thing or a good thing, it just is, and whether it affects the work for better or for worse is honestly dependent upon how you engage with that fact. I will say trying to back away from it generally leads to problems (unexamined prejudices showing up in stories, worldviews that it turns out most people don't share going stated simply as fact rather than being supported by the writing around it). It can also lead to a stronger story, though, if you're willing to engage with it. Engaging honestly with what scares you and why, what you find comforting, uplifting, upsetting, et cetera. All of these require vulnerability, and allowing other people to see that, and it's going to happen with your without your consent because you're the one writing the thing, so you may as well make peace with it and lean in. "But what if it's cringe" too late baby most things are cringe and that shouldn't be your focus. You are fighting a losing battle. We are all cringe. But we are free.

Hope this helps. I just know I've left half a sentence fragment in here that I said I'd come back to and then forgot oh god

#asks #Anonymous #spitegarbage

[elasticitymudflap]

I haven't watched adventure time in so long, I never even finished it tbh BUT I do remember that Fiona and cake was, like, fanfic made by the ice king? How are they now canon characters? Or is it still a story he's writing? I'm just curious about the plot of this sequel/spin off and I figured I'd ask the resident Simon Expert™

OK SO fionna and cake are part of an extended fanfiction universe ice king was writing, usually kidnapping and forcing people to listen to him read it

as of the hbo mini series simon petrikov (the original human guy in the 20th century who put on the ice crown and got all wicked nasty bonkers over the course of 1000 years) has been freed from the curse (by his hot, briefly also wizard-cursed fiancee, betty grof, who he technically teleported to the future where she vowed to save him from the curse when he temporarily turned back into a human, and she did just that by harnessing the power of the crown and merging with the being of all chaos, golb) for around 12 years. fionna and cake are something he wants absolutely no association with, and nobody is listening to him.

humans have returned to ooo and live in big floating city in the sky, where simon seems to be living out the prolonged existential crisis of losing betty, being completely out of touch with contemporary humans to the point that he's LITERALLY a living exhibit, and the complicated trauma of his time as the ice king; he's physically sickened by the mere presence of ice in his drink and the fionna and cake manuscripts he wrote, but also admits to secretly regressing to ice king as a method of coping, finding comfort in the lack of awareness he had in that state. he's overwhelmed with the feeling that there's nothing left in this world for him but a slow march towards a lonely death. worse yet, he's become completely unable to express to anyone close to him the gravity of this growing darkness, even marceline for fear of putting her back in a situation where she was constantly concerned for his mental wellbeing.

now simon's getting desperate, potentially world-breaking desperate, and is using basically fucked up forbidden magic to try to connect with gol-betty again, possibly even summon her (which would probably destroy the world and fucking hell i do not blame him) - but while completing the ritual he was distracted by mention of fionna and cake, and now there are portals appearing in an alternate universe where fionna and cake are real, but non-magic, and coming out the back of simon's head

TECHNICALLY we still don't know how/or why the alternate fionnna and cake universe came to be, if it's a product of simon's psyche or one of those 'infinite universe, infinite possibilities' type of things, but buddy i am SO fucking here for it i am BACK babeyyyyyyyyy

#fionna and cake spoilers

[pikaturtle]

Ok, whatever, I am completely new to Helluva/Hazbin universe. I have done SOME research. And read some fanfictions and everyone is different.

Alright, fine, I am just going to post the prologue of what I have. Basically more or less following the actual series, I might stray from it as I go and be my 'own' story.

But I created this OC weeks back, and basically trying to work the character out, and somethings I noticed that wasn't part of the Hazbin Universe. And that's Guardian Angels. I was a bit surprised those weren't listed, but maybe sometime in the future?

I just went with it. It might not even be good, but here it is.

Main character is my OC: A Guardin Angel, that is a cat(I love cats so yeah). They are an intersex being, and non-binary. Demisexual. They don't care for pronouns, they answer to all. They were 'created' after the whole thing with Lucifer in the series. And there is information in the prologue. So I dont want to repeat everything. ^^;

I am still new to all sexualities and pronouns and I do want to respect everyone and I apologize in advance if something is wrong or had misinformation.

But anyway this story is basically adding in my character into the story. I am keeping Charlie single in this when it comes to 'present' day. I am still working things out how I want to write this story.

Again, I am completely new to this, so this is probably crap. But I want to post it, because then it just sits in my OneDrive and probably never continue it and have it forgotten.

But let's see if people are interested. I don't expect much, I have been on Tumblr for a bit but hadn't really posted because I am more active on DeviantArt.

So, I guess I am ready to face judgement.

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

The Council loomed over Lucifer as he pleaded for his daughter.

“Just please, there has to be someone you can send!” He yelled desperately. “I know I have not right, but Charlie is innocent in all of this! I just need help to protect her!”

Sera, headmaster, sighed and rubbed her temples. Letting the words sink in. She was slightly annoyed being bothered by the fallen angel. However, it had been centuries since she even last saw him. She just wanted him to leave. She stood from her chair.

“Give me a few moments to discuss this with the head guardian.” She turned and headed out, gesturing the Angel next her. “Come Matthew.”

He got up and looked at Lucifer for a second then followed Sera to the hallway. Once the door shut, she turned to Matthew. “What do you think? These are your Angels. Do you trust him? Do you even have one available?”

Matthew pondered for a moment, only one came to mind that hadn’t been assigned in years. “I mean, if it’s to protect an innocent child. I don’t have a problem.”

“They would be bound to her until, if she evens, perishes. Which will be an eternity. I know none of us will want to go down there to stay even a second.”

“They can be given power to help them. Lucifer would be able to help them on that.” Matthew said.

Sera raised an eyebrow, “Do you have someone in mind?”

Matthew swallowed. There was one angel who hadn’t been given a human for years. And before their last human, they hadn’t been assigned in centuries. However, they had been through excessive training. And has been able to become stronger. Which was sad that they failed the last human. He believed in them, unlike everyone else. There was maybe a few others who got along with them, however, the poor angel was mainly isolated from others. He took a deep breath, his voice trembled a bit. “There is one…She has been available for years. Even centuries and well, I know he-”

“I know who exactly you are talking about.” Sera cut him off. She thought tot a moment, then smiled. “Of course! She will be perfect!”

Matthew paled, he was protective to all of his guardian angels. He wanted to say something but Sera already opened a portal and briefly he saw the angel talking to her friend. They both paused as the portal was opened and Sera reached out for the cat angel and pulled her in. Her friend and her protested but the portal cut off her friend.

“Hey, what’s the big deal?!” The angel squirmed in Sera’s hand. She had her by the collar. “I was in the middle of a conversation!”

“Serity.” Sera smiled at the cat angel.

Serity stopped squirming and locked eyes to Sera. Serity was a small white cat angel. She did have a human form, but she preferred to be a cat. She had black tip ears, black tip tail, and black spots around her eyes. She also had a black ring around her next that was her fur and not a collar. She also had gray wings, that were actually one of the more prettier side. She also had a circle shape on her belly, that had little white dots on it. Which actually looked like a chocolate chip cookie. And she had one black circle on her both her sides. Matthew hadn’t seen her human form in centuries, he actually forgot what she looked like.

Sera began to explain. “Congratulations! You are now assigned to be a Guardian Angel!”

Serity blinked in shock. “wh-what? But I thought-What?! Now?!”

“Yes, I apologize for the sudden outburst, but it is a timely matter. I’ll be sure to tell your friends the situation. But we must make haste.” She moved Serity under her right arm, holding her as Seity was too shock to even mutter a word. “I would love for Lucifer to leave already.”

“Wait-What?!” Serity tried protesting.

Sera gestured Matthew to follow. He tried sending a sympathy glance at Serity, but she was too busy trying to argue with Sera but Sera ignored her. The door opened and slammed, which Serity froze and stopped talking. Her heart was pounding. Sera went back to her chair, but didn’t sit down, instead she grabbed Serity by the collar and hung her over the edge, showing her to everyone.

“Here you go Lucifer!” Her voice echoed. “This is Serity. She’s one of our oldest members and has been through excessive training. She would be a great guardian for your daughter.”

Serity felt Sera’s grip loosing and she started flapping her wings. She stared back at Sera and Matthew. Matthew was ashamed, and wanted to apologize for doing this to her, but he couldn’t say anything. Sera gestured Serity to Lucifer. Serity was terrified. This was the fallen angel from the stories of Adam, Lilith, and Eve. She never met him personally. But he was talked about and mostly wasn’t good things. She swallowed and glided down to him. Lucifer actually reached out his hands to her when she got close enough. Once she was in reach, he gripped her arms and pulled her closer. They stared at each other for a moment. Which Serity noticed that, he didn’t look like anything she imagined. She expected a scary evil big boss. But the angel in front of her, looked sadden within his eyes that was surprised by her. He had red circles on his cheeks and too be honest, he smelled really good. Like apple cider. Serity’s heart was still pounding but she relaxed a little. She didn’t even know what to say to him.

But even if she tried, Sera spoke again. “Now, you have what you want and I won’t ask anything in return. Though I do expect you to take care of her. Since she’ll be living with your daughter for eternity.”

Serity felt like her heart stop. (Eternity?!)

Lucifer held Serity more gently in his arms, like holding a baby. And he looked up at Sera. “Thank you. I guess I’ll be heading out.”

“Please.” Sera sighed.

Lucifer bowed in respect and got his cane that had an apple at the tip. And summoned a portal. Serity stared in shock, seeing the actual Hell that was in front if her. However, it did look like a living room but she could see through the windows. Lucifer went through the portal and as he did, Serity colors swapped. Her white turned to black and her black turned to white. Her halo disappeared and fused into her fur on her head. So, she now had a white ring on her forehead. Her wings turned to a darker shade of gray, almost black.

Lucifer sighed in defeat and the portal closed. “I’m sorry to be bringing you here, but my wife, Lilith disappeared. After months of searching, i- I just needed help protecting my daughter. We’re usually safe during extermination day, but she’s been talking about this new dream of a hotel for sinners. And…and I don’t want something happening to her.”

Serity blinked at him. Surprised by how soothing his voice was. He was sad and tears were appearing in his eyes. She really wasn’t expecting this. Her mind and heart was racing.

Lucifer then cleared his throat and pulled her to look at her, held her under her arms again. “Um, so, I am Lucifer Morningstar. In case that wasn’t clear.” He chuckled nervously, trying to lighten the mood. “And you’re Serity?”

Serity swallowed. She didn’t like using that name. She practically forgot it. She took a deep breath and spoke. “Um..yeah,” her voice was trembling, “call me Cookie, please. I don’t go by that name anymore.”

Lucifer blinked surprisingly. It looked like he was going to say something but his eyes went to her belly. Which then he had the ‘ah ha’ face. “I see.” He smiled warmly, which calmed her a bit. “Well, Cookie, I guess we should go over somethings and then have you meet my daughter.”

He set her down on a couch, Cookie couldn’t help but stare out the window. Seeing the red and she could feel the darkness of the world she was now in.

“I know, I know.” Lucifer noticed her fear in her eyes. “Again, I am sorry about this. But I can give you some power to help you while you’re here. You’re powers….if you don’t mind me asking, how do they work? I never met a guardian angel before and just know some basics.”

Cookie finally looked away from the window and was about to speak, but then she noticed something behind and around them. Rubber ducks. In pictures and even little ones just being around. On the tables and bookshelves. She blinked surprised. She was literally speechless.

Lucifer seem to notice her eyes shifted and he followed her stare and realized what she was shocked about

“Oh,” he chuckled nervously, “yeah if it isn’t obvious, I love ducks.” He cleared his throat and sat down in a chair, waiting patiently for Cookie to speak.

Cookie finally shook her head after several minutes and glanced at Lucifer. She cleared her throat, feeling like she couldn’t speak. He mouth felt dry. She was going to say something when Lucifer shot up out of his chair.

“Oh how rude of me! I am sorry!” Lucifer apologized and Cookie was a bit confused. “Did you want anything to drink? I can get you something. Tea, water, apple juice, I have plenty of that.” He laughed.

Cookie just nodded, “Ye-yeah, water would be nice. And…coffee to be honest…”

“Sure thing!” He made a weird pose, like he was going to perform, but he headed to the kitchen.

Cookie searched again and looked at the photos more closely. Seeing Lucifer with his wife and a little child. There were more pictures of his child over the years. Lilith was in a few, but it was mostly of his daughter. (He seems to really care about her…. I wonder what she’s like….)

After like possibly 10 minutes, Lucifer came back with a tray that had glasses and a coffee cup. He set it down on the coffee table in front of the couch. Cookie sighed, knowing she had to change her form a bit. She stood on her four paws and shook herself. She turned her form to more human like, but she still was a cat. Anamorphic cat. She opened her eyes, she had her height around Lucifer’s. She normally didn’t have clothes because of her fur, which was very fluffy. But she was in a different realm and she wasn’t fully sure how this realm worked. So she had a red t-shirt and gray yoga pants. She reached for the coffee cup and took a sip.

“Amazing. So, you’re a cat angel?” Lucifer asked.

Cookie swallowed. “Sorta. I was more human when I was first created but turned myself to a cat after a few years after my creation.” She shrugged. “I just like cats. So why not be one.”

“Hey, whatever floats your boat.” Lucifer said casually. “Now, can you explain, please?”

After taking another drink of her coffee, she set the cup down and cleared her throat. “Right. Well, um…. I guess I’ll explain what guardian angels can do. But the rules, I am assuming will be different here since your daughter isn’t human.” Lucifer just nodded in response. “Right, normally we don’t show ourselves to humans. We are assigned to humans. How, I don’t know. I don’t know which or if all humans get one. I don’t think every human gets one, since not every human is worthy if I am honest. But my powers are, I guess random, I mean I can do many things. I know magic I guess you call it. And I can shape shift. We sometimes turn into animals to protect humans and live along side them. And well, we can’t really intervene the humans lives. We can try to have them make choices, like you know have them lose their keys or make a noise to have them change their minds if they are headed to danger. Which sometimes doesn’t even work. My last human was killed because he wouldn’t listen to the noises I was making.” She looked down at her coffee cup and circled the rim of it with a finger. “I tried to get him to look but he was too occupied doing a crime than his own life.” She shook her head, not wanting to talk about it. Lucifer didn’t ask her to elaborate, just nodded in understanding. “I do have a third eye.” She pointed at her forehead. “Well, we all do, we can see memories, dreams, wants, desires, thoughts, and emotions of our person. So we have a deeper understanding. We also only protect and not fight. Ya know, some of your hellborns haunt some humans, so we do protect humans from them, but we don’t attack unless it’s self defense. We mainly just protect.”

Lucifer groaned in annoyance, slapping his face, “I apologize for that. I have little to no control on the hellborns. They’re like humans, they do whatever. I try to do my best to make sure there’s some punishment but when you have so many, it’s kinda just useless.”

Cookie nodded. “Yeah, I’ve lived with humans, so I get what you mean.”

“What else can you do? Do you have any skills?”

Cookie perked up a bit. “Yes, I can speak many languages, even like ancient ones. I also can play, if not all instruments. I know pretty much everything within human history. I can cook, clean, draw, play video games, I can mimic all voices I hear, and some other skills I don’t even use.”

Lucifer blinked in shock, “Wow, that’s amazing…”

“Well you’re about as old as me, but older. When you live as long as we have, you get bored and just start doing random stuff.” Cookie picked up her cup of coffee and drank the rest of it. She set it down, and swallowed. “I don’t know how much Sera told you about me. But in earlier years of humans creation, I was more active, however, when the dark ages came along, I lost….many humans. And each one just…” She paused and looked at her paws. “Just…losing a kid, watching them suffer in front of you… I started declining mentally. And finally they just stopped assigning me because I couldn’t focus as well as I should have been. So for centuries, I was under excessive training. But they obviously don’t take up my whole life. So I had to find stuff to do.” She shook her head in defeat and she glanced at the ground. “I was given another human, like recently, like back in the 1900s or something and that was the last human I had. He didn’t even make it to his 30s.” Cookie held back tears, not wanting to go back to that. “After that, they hadn’t sent me out again. I am not sure why though. I didn’t even do anything wrong. I am not really well liked if I am honest. I only have like five friends, or allies.”

“I am sorry…” Lucifer bit his lip, it looked like he was holding back tears as well.

Cookie shook herself again and sat up more straight. “I do have keen hearing and sharp eye sight and heighten sense of smell. I do know how to fight, but I prefer not to. I don’t like fighting, but push my patience and well, you can face the wrath.” She grabbed the cup of water and took a drink. “Anything else you want to know?”

Lucifer stared at her and scratched his chin in thought. But nothing came to his mind. “I think you answered everything. Though I guess I should share my power with you. So you can move more freely. Have you ever done blood oaths?”

Cookie blinked in shock. “Erm…yes, I mean no, I never done them. I have heard of them.”

Lucifer stood up and walked up to Cookie and stood in front of her. “Well, then we better get started.”

He took off his glove and using his claw to slice his palm. He still had angel blood. Which surprised Cookie. She swallowed. She didn’t like blood. Funnily enough, she loved true crime but some details she rather not hear or imagine. She shakenly got a claw and sliced a cut on her paw. It was a bit weak as she was nervous. She didn’t like harming herself, she didn’t even like getting hurt. Though blood oozed out of the cut and Lucifer held out his hand. She reached out and took his hand. There was a jolt of power surging through her. It didn’t hurt but it certainly wasn’t pleasant. Lucifer tighten his grip as the magic wrapped around them. Glowing yellow colors swirled around them. Then finally drained to their hands. And disappeared into their cuts and instantly healing them. Lucifer took back his hand and put his glove back on. Cookie rubbed her paw with her other paw. She could feel something pulsing in her veins. She didn’t like it. It felt weird. She hissed a little.

Lucifer looked at the time and then conjured his staff and started doing some magic. Which Cookie wasn’t paying attention until a cell phone appeared in front of her. A black smartphone. She glanced at Lucifer.

“I think you’ll need this. Everyone has a phone now. And in case you get separated, then at least you can contact help.”

She took the phone and turned it on. She had one back in heaven, but because she was pulled away, she actually dropped hers. She knows it was fine, but she needed to get the information. Luckily there was the ‘Cloud’ that had her saved information and other things.

She smiled slightly and glanced up at Lucifer. “Thank you. Which reminds me also, we are literally stuck to our person. We can reach them no matter what. So like, say we did get separated and she’s like in the human world, I can still reach her. I can go through these realms, but obviously we don’t come here. I actually thought we were blocked. But here I am.”

“Fascinating.” Lucifer nodded. Then he clapped his hands which made Cookie flinch since the noise surprised her. “Well, come along. I think Charlie is still here. She should be in her room.”

He waved his hand to have Cookie to follow. She shrunk down to her cat size, having the phone disappear to a space she could call it back. She ran up to Lucifer and climbs up him to his shoulder. He was surprised but he just smiled and started heading down a hallway. There were even more pictures and more rubber ducks around. Then she heard voices. Her ears perked to the noise and as they approached a door, she heard two voices.

“Oh, crap, forgot her friend was here.” Lucifer stopped himself.

Something came to her mind. “I think it’s best that the less people know that I am angel, the better.”

“Oh for sure!” Lucifer agreed. “It could be dangerous for you if others knew. Charlie can know, right? Or does that need to be a secret from her?”

“Considering I am stuck with her for all eternity, I don’t mind her knowing.” Cookie scoffed. “Probably a good idea to have her know.”

Lucifer nodded and straightened up, then knocked on the door with his free hand.

The voices stopped and Cookie heard footsteps and the door opened. An almost copy of Lucifer appeared in the doorway. Her hair was long and blonde. Her eyes were large and she was taller than Lucifer. She also had the red circles on her cheeks. Which hers looked pinchable.

“Hey, dad, what’s up?” Her voice was beautiful to Cookie. Soft and sweet. She could tell she had an amazing voice for singing.

“Hey, Char Char,” Lucifer said nervously, “I need to talk to you. Mind coming out?” He glanced back to another demon that was sitting on the floor. She looked like she was some sort of bird. “Octavia, you don’t mind, right? I won’t be long.”

Octavia nodded and waved them to go.

Charlie noticed Cookie but didn’t say anything until they were in another room, that looked like an office.

“Dad, really? You got a cat?” She asked as Lucifer shut the door.

“Actually,” he got a hold of Cookie and held her out to Charlie. “This is your cat. Or should I say, Guardian Angel.”

Charlie looked slightly annoyed, “Dad really, I don’t nee-wait what?” She stopped and stared at both of them. “Guardian Angel? What do you mean?”

Lucifer held Cookie with one hand. “Um…well with your….mother gone, I asked for some…extra precautions to keep you safe. And asked the council for a guardian. So then they can be with you everywhere and you can be protected.”

Charlie didn’t say a word and just stared at Cookie. Not knowing what to say. But eventually she reached out her hands and Lucifer smiled and handed Charlie the cat angel. Charlie locked eyes with Cookie. Cookie, instinctively touched noses with Charlie and there was a moment where Cookie’s third eye open. They both frozen as Cookie’s two eyes closed and magic wrapped into Charlie’s mind. Cookie felt the link snap into place and she began learning everything about Charlie. Her wants, desires, needs, likes and dislikes. It only lasted a few seconds and Charlie nearly lost her grip to Cookie when Cookie opened her main eyes and closed her third.

Charlie shook her head. “What was that?” She had one hand on her head.

“I was just getting to know you.” Cookie answered.

Which had Charlie freeze for a moment and stare at the cat. “Did you just-”

“Hey, just because I am a cat, doesn’t me I sound like one!” Cookie snapped but then rolled her eyes. “Okay, I do, but I can talk.”

Charlie was in shock, her mouth was open and her eyes were wide.

Cookie started to purr, usually it helps. “Call me Cookie.” She smiled.

Charlie blinked a few times, she looked at her dad and he just shrugged with a smile. Charlie looked back at Cookie. “Well, I am Charlie Morningstar, it’s nice to meet you.”

“Now Charlie,” Lucifer put his arm around Charlie’s shoulder, “this little one will have to be a secret. Who knows what the demons out there will do if they find out an angel is living here. She does have some of my power I transferred to her, so she should be fine in the long run but it would be best to not let that slip. Alright?”

Charlie nodded. “I understand.”

“Good! Now I’ll let you go back to your room and I’ll see you for dinner?” Lucifer went to the door and opened it for her.

“Yeah,” Charlie moved Cookie to a better position to hold her, laying across her arm and petting her with her other hand, “I’ll see you at dinner.” She smiled at him and walked out of the room.

~~

They headed in different directions and Charlie walked to her room. Meeting up with her friend to meet her new one.

7 Years later…

Cookie stretched next to Charlie as she was fiddling with her phone sitting against the wall, her legs crossed. She had the call for her mother. Which had been missing for 7 years. Charlie would leave messages, hoping her mother would just answer for once. She hadn’t talked to her father for months.

When Charlie started the Happy Hotel, she sort of lost contact with her father. She hardly called him. She told him about her plans for the hotel and it seemed like he didn’t really support the idea. So, more or less they had a fall out. Cookie nuzzled Charlie’s knee, and Charlie got one hand and petted Cookies head.

Through the 7 years living in this horrible place, Cookie’s life hadn’t been too bad. She managed to get back into contact with her old friend, but she was busy with her work. So they barely talked. Still it was nice to get back in contact. Though she finally managed to let Charlie know about her background a bit. Once her friend, Octavia, left, Cookie explained that they were an intersex being and was a non-binary person. They really didn’t care what they were called and went with all pronouns. They also explained that to Lucifer later. With everything happening to them at that time, they didn’t worry about it. Besides, they didn’t really care what their pronouns were, he, she, they, it, they just didn’t care in the long run. They were technically both genders, which was very rare thing to happen. So, just whoever thought they were, they just stuck with it. If someone called them he, they would refer to them as a male, and same with female. Cookie also got a bit more braver, when protecting Charlie. They still didn’t like to resort to violence, but if someone laid a hand on Charlie, they weren’t afraid to scratch whoever. They always were with Charlie, on her shoulder mostly. They wrapped themselves around her neck like a scarf. So, sometimes people didn’t even know they were there. Which was a great way to stop others from hurting Charlie. They just came back from a news show, and picked up a client on the way back to the hotel. To say the meeting went bad was an understatement. Cookie also picked a fight with that news host, Killjoy. They did managed to get a few scratched on her. But in the end, Charlie was seen as a joke and Charlie was depressed about it. It had been rough these past few years since opening the hotel. Cookie tried their best to cheer her up and keep her going.

Charlie sighed, and pressed the call button. It went to voice mail, like always. As Charlie was speaking, Cookie heard some noises nearby. Like footsteps, but it was probably just some demon walking by. So they just pushed the worry aside. Charlie then slumped back on the ground and cried a bit. Cookie sat up and nuzzled her cheek. Charlie grabbed a hold of Cookie and held them. Cookie just purred to sooth her. They weren’t sure how long they sat there, but finally Charlie got up and just stared out to the city.

“Charlie,” Cookie jumped onto the railing, as Charlie was leaning on it. Watching her city. “Hey, I think you’re doing fine. Ignore that literal kill joy. She doesn’t know what she’s talking about. Everyone giving you a hard time, just doesn’t have hope.” Charlie didn’t respond and hid her face in her arms. Cookie bit her lip. And tried to think. She glanced at the clock tower where the countdown was for the next extermination day. 364 days left. Cookie stared up at the sky, seeing the heaven. Their claws flexed, scrapping the metal bars.

Cookie let out a long sigh. “Look, Charlie. I have a friend who might be able to get into contact with the leader of the exterminators. Maybe talking to them, you can tell your idea and get somewhere.”

Charlie didn’t say anything but looked at Cookie, with her eyes filled with tears. She sniffles and wiped her eyes. “You can do that?”

“I can’t guarantee anything, but she is popular in heaven so she might be able to get someone down here.” Cookie explained. “I’ll text her now actually. I think she’s free. But she will eventually respond when her human is asleep.”

Cookie had their phone appear and they texted their friend. There wasn’t an immediate response, so they just had their phone disappear again. They will hear it if they get a response.

Charlie sighed, with a smile, “Thank you. I am glad you believe in me.”

“Always.” Cookie grinned and jumped down from the railing. “Let’s get inside, I still find it weird it can get cold down here.”

Cookie really did believe in Charlie’s redemption idea. Though it has NEVER been proven, doesn’t make it impossible. One would think it would be too late, but if angels can fall, why can’t demons rise as an angel? Be able to reunite with family and friends. Cookie does believe people can change but only if they are willing to. Not everyone has the heart to change and become something better. Still, this was Hell, and most demons, if not all, were selfish and downright evil. Though most Hellborns weren’t that evil. Sure, they did bad things but they seemed to be in more control of their actions than Sinners. Hellborns could roam freely throughout Hell and lived like humans on Earth. Sinners, only lived in the Pride Ring. They were still ‘human’ but had their urges and was said to be hard to ignore them. Though Cookie has seen some Overlords, and they didn’t seem too bad. But they were more powerful so they must have more control than normal Sinners. Which was a hard task to do. Or else there would be Overlords everywhere. Still, it was a dangerous place, especially for a Princess. When Cookie is a bigger size, they tend to intimate everyone that dares comes near Charlie.

Charlie just let out a small giggle and they head inside. They went to the lobby, where Vaggie and Angel were. Vaggie was a ‘demon’ with her left eye taken out. Cookie knew from day one she was an exterminator, but obviously she was different, why else would she be here left behind and wounded. Angel Dust, was obviously not an actual angel, but some spider like demon. He walked on two legs and had three sets of arms. Though he mostly kept 2 sets out. Rarely using his third set. He had a blacken eye on his left eye. He also had a chest, that was made of fur which looked like he had boobs. He was also a porn star and the only resident in the hotel. They hotel wasn’t all that pleasant, but Cookie did their best to have the place cleaned with their magic. But it was still empty.

Charlie hugged herself and Cookie wish they could cheer her up. But they didn’t have time to think when the someone knocked at the door. Charlie was confused but headed to the front door, letting the others know she got it. Cookie followed, jumping onto her shoulder. She opened it and there stood a red demon, with antlers and a staff.

“Hell-“

Charlie shut the door and was confused for a moment. “Did…I just see that?”

Cookie just nodded and Charlie opened the door again.

“Lo!”

She shut the door again and turned around. “Uhhh hey Vaggie?”

“What?” Vaggie answered sounded slightly annoyed.

Charlie walked down to where they were sitting. Her face was in shock. “Um…the Radio Demon is at the front door?”

“What?!”

“Who?” Angel asked.

“Wait, that’s the Radio Demon?” Cookie asked and glanced back at the door. “I actually thought he would look like a radio like Vox is a TV.”

“What do I do?” Charlie asked.

“Well don’t let him in!” Vaggie told her.

Once the door opened again and the Radio Demon introduced himself and the journey that was set had changed.

Charlie hesitated and knew she had to answer.

#hazbin hotel #first story #charlie morningstar #alastor #vaggie #angel dust #helluva boss #fanfiction #hazbin husker #nifty #lucifer morningstar #sera hazbin hotel #random story #don't mind me #story #long post

[kaepop-trash]

Will you ever write another part to fox and hen? I'm dying to know what happens after

Does she let him go? Does he come back? Does Doyoung really hate her as much as he think he does?

I'm hoping you will write one of your miscellanous for this but if you don't I obviously understand. Doyoung's my bias and I've read so many of his fanfiction here. But nothing has hooked me like that one haha

The Fox and the Dog

This sounds so urgent anon is everything okay?😭

You are probably the only other person who wants this story. But the other is me, so here we are. The way you said "Does Doyoung really hate her as much as he think he does?" is really, truly got me stuck on writing this. I will actually never turn away a Doyoung miscellaneous request and that is a fact and a promise. It's 5am and why am I always here like this? I have work in a few hours. 5am me says this is fine so we let her have it.

This ask refers to this fic.

_

Pairings: Doyoung×Reader ft. Jaehyun

Tags: crime au, assasin×detective, assassin×handler, harmful

Synopsis: When a police officer discovers where a killer lives, running is the only option. When the killer lets the officer go, there are consequences. What happens when he finds her again?

Warnings: Mentions of injuries, stitches, blood, weapons, trigger warning for pain; suggestive sexual content, kissing, nudity, rough handling; everybody is crazy in this one; unironic use of 'who did this to you?'; I have to emphasize that everybody is batshit crazy in this one. Characters in no way represent the people (duh)

WC: 3.6K

_

She emerged from her shower, skin prickling from the assault of the cold air. Despite growing up in such freezing weather, she could never bring herself to find it anything but distasteful. 

One of her scarves lay on the floor as she walked passed her wardrobe. Picking it up, (Y/N) reached into the top dresser drawer where all her silk items were kept. She reached under the layers of clothes to the bottom, the sound of a gun cocking making her stop.

"No wonder it's not where I put it." She scoffed, her hand gripping tight around the next best thing. With her free hand, she threw the first item she could find— her hairbrush. Using the distraction she pulled out a knife, the one she kept just below the gun in the dresser. Before she could turn to face the perpetrator, her body was thrust into the wall, a hand coming to grab the wrist that held the knife.

Her struggles stopped when she met the distinct fox eyes.

"Oh, it's just you." She relaxed in his hold. "I could have killed you Doie. You need to stop coming into a lady's house uninvited. You didn't even let me get dressed." (Y/N) clicked her tongue, a smirk emerging when his a tinge of scarlet bloomed under his eyes.

The towel she had around her waist was now laying on the floor between them, the silk pajama top she wore on top with only two buttons done. The only thing she had on. Doyoung didn’t notice any of it till that moment.

"I'm the one who's going to kill you." He spoke through his teeth, pressing the gun against her jaw. She had to lift her head, looking down to keep her gaze on him as a result.

"I heard they fired you. My condolences." She smiled.

"Because of you." He pressed the barrel harder, the cold metal stinging her skin.

"Don't blame me for your obsessions, Detective. You did this to yourself."

"I was right." The gun eased against her neck, "I knew you left the country, that you came somewhere safe. Close to someone who can protect you." He traced the weapon down her front, the two buttons clicking when it moved against them. She took in a quick breath at the sudden sound— a minuscule action that betrayed her fear. Doyoung seemed to catch on, his eyes dancing with victory.

"You're enjoying this so much." She bit the corner of her lips. "Is that why you're so hard? Sick little freak." She giggled, "Here I thought it was because of how close my bare cunt is to you right now." She tried to raise her hips closer to his, but Doyoung dug the gun into her diaphragm, making her gasp.

"I am not hard." His words whistled from between his tight jaw, face only turning more red.

"No? Why don't you come close and show me?" She raised a leg, wrapping it around his waist. 

When she tugged him closer, he resisted with all his force.

Her eyes lit up, "Come here so I can feel how bad you want me, Kim Doyoung." She used the anchor around his waist to bring herself closer to him. 

The angle gave her the upper hand. Feeling like he'd lose the hold he had on her, Doyoung had no choice but to come closer. Both of their eyes struggled to stay open when they touched. Doyoung's jaw set tighter than before.

"Is it the thought of taking me or killing me that has you so aroused, Detective?" She whispered, pressing against him harder. "Both, perhaps?"

Doyoung put his hand on the wall beside her, using it to push back while still maintaining his balance.

"Who did you run to, Birdie?" He used her code name. "Who is protecting you?"

She didn't answer, skin breaking into goosebumps as he bought the gun lower. The cold metal slid over her bare skin that was still warm from the shower. Just as her lips parted, he stopped, the barrel resting just above her belly button.

"Who did this to you?" He questioned. Her eyes fluttered open to find his eyes fixed on her torso, forehead gathered. With a huff, she unwrapped her leg, pushing away from him and back into the wall.

Following his gaze, she already knew what he was referring to. Her eyes came on the wound that had only just healed, the puncture of the stitches still visible around the raised skin.

Looking at it brought the memory of the day back. She pulled her gaze away.

"You did." She waited for his gaze to come back up, eyes laced with confusion and rage at the unjustified accusation. He parted his lips to respond, but she continued. "A bottom of the barrel detective figured out where I lived and managed to break in."

"Twice." He interrupted to remind her.

She licked her lips, continuing. "And he managed to escape unharmed as well." His gaze bore into hers, she had to remind herself not to look away. "A mistake like that doesn't go unpunished."

Doyoung faltered at the words, flexing his fingers around the gun to remind himself why he was there. Her chin dropped, and he finally got a good look at her eyes, the edges bloodshot. His gaze dropped to her pale lips just as her equally pale tongue emerged to wet them.

He looked back up when her lips twitched, dragging the gun lower. The top pressed against her injury, the mildest force making her flinch. The area was tender.

"Was it a knife?" He asked.

She scoffed, head tilting to look at the dresser beside them. Doyoung followed her gaze, stopping on the candelabra that sat on the surface. The pricket on top was broader than most, meant to hold thicker candles. Despite looking slender, the edge looked rounded. The width was also much smaller than the long stitch on her stomach. Whoever did this twisted it in, the dull top making it more painful than was necessary. It had to have been intentional. And cruel.

"Who did this?" He asked again, eyes coming back to hers.

"Why did they fire you, Doyoung?" She questioned.

He recalled the day, his mouth tasting bitter. The chief of the federal team walked up to his tiny cubicle, his face red. He asked Doyoung why he was searching for names that had no relation to the murder of the senator they were officially investigating. All Doyoung said was that he was covering his bases. The next day his things were packed in a box and kept on the curb. The name he searched for led him nowhere too, but the chief's actions only made his suspicions turn into an insatiable itch.

"Who is Jae?" Doyoung responded with yet another question. He noticed it clearly then, the colour draining from her otherwise unreadable eyes— fear. It was hard not to notice it. "Was he the one who did this to you?"

"I have never heard that name in my life." Despite the words, she swallowed. "Are you here to play doctor? I thought you wanted to kill me?"

"Is it a name or an alias like yours?" He persisted.

"You need to be quick, Doyoung. I will have to hurt you once I get out of your hold. I don't plan on moving again anytime soon."

"Is he your handler?"

"You don't understand what you're getting yourself into." She snapped. With one swift kick, she kneed his stomach. Doyoung fell back with an audible huff, the impact knocking the gun from his hand. She was on top of him before he could recover, her knife pressed against his neck.

"Think about everything I told you." She pressed the knife further when he tried to move. "You're asking the wrong questions," Doyoung felt his skin break. "Why did I have to move?" She asked him.

Doyoung stared at her with stubborn silence; she pressed her knife further, blood trickling down to the floor. The sharp sting permeated his senses, sending his adrenaline spiking.

"Because I found you then. And I'll find you again." He groaned, "If you kill me, they will know it was you."

"Think, you moron." She leaned over, "Why was I punished?"

"Because you let me go." His words faltered. "That was your mistake."

"I don't make mistakes." She looked him over. He felt blood trickle down his neck, his instincts going into survival mode. It had the unexpected side effect of clearing his mind.

"Do you remember what I told you back then?" Her eyes bore into his, and Doyoung remembered that look well.

"You were afraid." He recalled.

"Tell me, Doyoung. Would I be the one to say I let you go? When I already know the consequences of doing so?" Her eyes drifted down, Doyoung’s following to where he knew her wound sat between them.

She was so close to him that Doyoung could smell the soap she used— lavender and ginger. She stopped digging her knife in, but the wound still bled. He moved himself this time, letting the blade cut through more skin.

“You’re hard again. Is it desire or bloodlust this time?” She said matter of factly, making Doyoung realise that she was sitting on top of his crotch.

“You haven’t asked me to kiss you yet.” He evaded the question.

“I have no intention to. I told you I’d stop asking one day.”

“Lies.” He raised his head higher, fresh blood seeping out. She pulled her hand away with a jerk, a concerned frown darkening her features. Just like he wagered.

Without skipping a beat, Doyoung flipped them over. Despite her agility and fierce training, he could still physically overpower her with ease.

(Y/N)’s head throbbed from being banged twice now. His weight, along with the growing pain in her stomach, kept her immobile. She wondered if the wound would open up again. Her mind was begging her not to fight. 

She knew killers better than she knew how to breathe. Despite all of Doyoung's claims, he was no killer. Yet her instincts didn't know anything except fighting back.

When she twisted her waist, the pain in her torso blinded her. She whimpered in pain, tears collecting in the corner of her eyes. But it did what she intended. The move threw Doyoung’s balance off just enough to move him. But he was quick, grabbing her wrists and pinning them down like he had anticipated the manoeuvre.

Before she could think of a way out, he did something she would have never predicted. Doyoung’s lips pressed against her, shocking her motionless. He even dared to let one of her hands go, bringing his down to cup her cheek. 

Tilting her head higher, he deepened the kiss. His tongue slid over her bottom lip, prodding at it in silent question. She should have used her free hand to grab the knife that was close enough to graze her knuckles. Instead, her fingers flew to the back of his head, grabbing a fistful of his hair to pull him closer. Her lips parted, and she pushed her tongue against his, keeping the struggle going in one form or another.

He was close enough that she could smell the lingering scent of a cologne on his shirt, peppery and fresh. She wrapped her leg around his waist, and this time he pressed flush against her. His tongue fought for space, a chance to devour her lips. His urgency was as intoxicating as it was worrisome. She distantly wondered just how much he'd wanted to do this. For just how long.

She wanted to tease him, to call him out on it. But more important preoccupations took her time.

His lips left hers to travel down her neck, his kisses fast and coupled with harsh tugs from his teeth. She laughed, the sound breathless and barely audible, moving her head to allow him space. As her ear touched the floor, she heard it. Faint footsteps against the wooden staircase.

She froze, using her fist to pull his head back. He didn't move, his kisses turning rougher. A groan left his busy lips in protest.

"Doyoung." She winced at a particularly hard bite, tugging his hair back with force.

"Sorry." He said once the colour of his eyes changed from lust to realisation. Those same eyes were blown out, lips bubblegum pink. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have done that."

She didn't have time to take in the guilt that seeped into his features.

"Get off me, someone's coming." She hissed, tugging at the hand that was still in his grip.

He looked partially confused, partially suspicious.

"Someone's walking up the stairs, nobody lives above this floor. Move!" She kicked her legs with more urgency. "You have to trust me. Get off." She added.

To her surprise, he listened. Something she also didn't have the time to dwell on. She dragged him across the room, opening her wardrobe. 

With unsteady hands, (Y/N) shoved a bunch of clothes out of the way, the small space stuffed to the brim.

"There's a panel on the wall there," She pointed inside the space to the side, "Get behind it and stay quiet. No matter what, do not move. Do as I say if you want both of us to live." She pushed him in, only having enough time to see him take out the panel she had made herself. Just as he was wedging into the small space, she shoved the clothes back inside.

When she turned to look at her room, her adrenaline spiked higher. The entire place was a mess. Things were pulled off all surfaces, lying shattered all over the floor. She looked around, mind working a mile a minute. A step she had intentionally loosened on the landing right below her door creaked and she knew she had one more flight of stairs.

Diving to the floor, she grabbed the gun and the knife, the latter cutting into her palm. She winced from the pain, wincing harder when she stood up and the pain jolted up from her stomach.

Fuck. 

The situation was pushing her tighter into a corner. Shoving the two weapons back into her drawer, she closed it as quietly as she could, the careful action taking time she did not have. In a panic, she made a last-minute decision.

She picked up the lamp Jaehyun gifted her the day she left the academy, the object the closest thing she could lay her hands on. It was a precious gift that she had protected through everything she had been through. It was the thing that symbolised the life that lay on the other side of the hell she had to keep walking through. She stared at the object with regret for what she was about to do.

The main door swung open just as the sound of something heavy shattering echoed in the overcrowded apartment.

Jaehyun came rushing into the bedroom, finding her on the floor with pieces of the lamp in her hand. She looked up, letting fear coat her eyes.

"I didn't," she looked back down, the tears that collected on her bottom lid falling to the floor. "I didn't do it on purpose. I was just so angry." More sobs racked up her throat, and despite her act she couldn't seem to control them. "I was just." She picked up another piece, a shard of one of the cats that was on the lamp. More tears fell.

"Hey." His voice was deceptively soft, "Stop it." He said with a little more bite, "You're hurting yourself." He snapped, kneeling down in front of her. (Y/N) flinched. 

He took her hands in his, prying them open to take the blood stained piece out of her hand to drop with the others, stained equally red. "It's fine. Just get up."

"But you got me this when–" She began, her words dissolving into tears.

"I know, it doesn't matter. What's done is done. Get up." He was gentle again, helping her stand up. 

He helped her to the bed, sitting her down and kneeling in front of her.

"What's wrong?" He asked, pushing her hair out of her face, "Why are you upset?"

She let more tears fall, "I want to go outside. I missed this city, I want to go to my favourite cafes, boutiques. But your broth–" She bit her tongue so fast that it began bleeding. In her mourning, she forgot about the man hiding in her walls.

"We can go out." He told her, "I'll take you with me. We can go everywhere you want. Anywhere."

"Really?" She asked, mustering the best face of gratitude she could have. Jaehyun smiled, reaching out to cup her cheeks and nodding. His dimples emerged, and she let them rope her in as they had done for decades.

She wrapped her arms around his neck, embracing him. She knew he would like that, but she realised it was a mistake when his belt pressed against the wound. She bit down any sound, but he heard the hitch in her breath anyway.

He pulled back with a frown, inspecting her. He must have realised she was naked from the waist down, but his eyes went to the now red spot on her stomach. His fingers traced the raised skin with a feather-light touch, but she had to bite down on her lower lip anyway.

"It still hurts." He said with sinking realisation. She despised him for the guilt that painted his eyes.

"It's fine. I've had worse." The words were more of a reminder than a reassurance.

"Let me stitch your hand up. The cut is deep." He changed the topic, the offer a veiled apology. She wondered if his hands would shake like they did last time. But she figured it was different when he hadn't been the cause of the injury. "We can go out for dinner after." He looked back at her with a kind voice.

"To the restaurant by the river? Like we used to?" She asked, and he nodded. Despite herself, the joy that came over her face was real.

_

She walked into the apartment and let out a deep sigh. The days had been more exhausting than usual lately, but today she was actually spent. Walking into her now clean room, she unclasped her watch to put it on the dresser.

"I gave you the perfect opportunity to leave. Why are you still here?" She looked up to the corner from where Doyoung emerged through the shadows. "We'll both end up dead."

"You have an infection. Sepsis. If you don't go to the hospital, you'll die before I do." He told her, walking up to stand in front of her.

She hummed, reaching up to take her earrings off.

"I'm serious." She could hear the furrow of his brows in his voice.

"I know. I've had a few injuries in my life to know when it's serious."

"Your wound hasn't healed properly from the inside. How old is the injury?"

"Is this why you stayed?" She questioned while running her fingers through her hair.

His eyes flickered to the movement, "You need to go to a hospital."

"You need to leave before someone finds you, Doyoung."

"Why are you not listening?"

"I heard you. I told you I know."

"Why didn't you tell the man about it? The one who came today?" He came closer, "If he could stitch your hand, I assume he would know what to do about this."

"There's nothing to be done."

"Was he the one who did this to you?" His brows remained furrowed, lips pouting to join his displeasure.

"Careful, Doyoung. You're beginning to care."

"You just need some antibiotics and a way to drain the puss." He sounded furious. Clicking his tongue in irritation, he took a few steps closer. He pressed his hands against his hips, wiping them once and keeping them in place.

"The only way you're dying is in a jail cell or by my hands." His eyes glimmered in the dark, boring into hers, "If you won't go to a doctor, let me do it."

Her lips twisted, amusement written all over. He tightened his jaw.

"I was a medic in the army. I know how to deal with infections." He spat.

Her brows lifted in surprise, eyes caught in rapid blinks.

"What?" His lips twitched, "Didn't expect someone as bottom of the barrel as me to be a doctor?"

"I didn't expect you to be in the army."

"I needed the money for college. And I needed the health insurance for my sister."

She looked at him with a careful gaze, "Leave. You've already dug yourself so far into this. A little further, and you won't have ground to stand back on. Go back to whatever your life was before this."

Doyoung listened to everything she said, then handed her a piece of paper.

"This is all the medicine you'll need. Get it before you get a fever."

She looked at the paper before looking back at him with an unwavering gaze.

"If you don't go, I will." He sounded resolute. She knew his every tell— he was not lying. 

She snatched the paper from his hand. "If I pick these up from any pharmacy, the wrong people will find out. They get a hint that I'm dying, and they'll only come to speed up the process.

"Not if you buy an item each from different places." He pursed his lips, her own twitching.

"I'm impressed, Doie. You have the mind of a thief."

"Better than the mind of a killer." He mumbled, sounding more flustered than he did spiteful. She laughed, turning from him and grabbing the coat she had just discarded.

"I'll be back soon, my fox." She waved before blowing a kiss, disappearing into the hall and out the door.

#nct #nct 127 #nct scenarios #doyoung scenarios #nct doyoung #doyoung drabbles #doyoung angst #kim doyoung #doyoung oneshots #doyoung imagines #nct drabbles #nct oneshot #nct imagines #nct angst #nct smut #nct jaehyun #jaehyun scenarios #jaehyun #jung jaehyun #ask

[actual-changeling]

I am going to say this once and for all because I am not about to simply shut up and sit back. I am chronically suicidal, I have tried to kill myself, I am still affected by ALL of that and struggle with it on the daily.

If you use suicidal ideation and suicide itself as a plot device just to hurt a character/characters and don't even understand the basic psychological foundation and thought patterns that lead to that kind of disordered thinking you are a vile, ableist human being and I hope you stay far away from me.

Whump and angst writing is one thing, using suicide attempts in your stories like they are somehow a fun new addition to your plot roster is nothing short of disgustingly offensive. You can write about suicidality in a respectful, educated manner even if you do not struggle with it yourself, but that requires research and the ability to LISTEN when people tell you you are fucking up. If you cannot do that, shut the fuck up.

I am tired of being nice, I am tired of seeing my disorders fetishized and turned into entertainment, I am tired of seeing something as serious as suicide treated like it's nothing but a fanfiction trope, I am tired of no one else speaking up and simply letting it happen. I am tired of people not caring that writing can and will hurt people, and with this topic in particular it is outright dangerous to write it in an irresponsible manner.

I did not want to get involved in drama, I did not want to name drop, I was not a part of it and simply made a vague post about it because Ellis is my friend, but I'm tired. This is personal for me and this is the last fucking line someone can cross.

If you still follow penandinkprincess and intend to continue to support her after this I want you to unfollow and block me.

The miscarriage fic was one thing, inaccurately writing about trauma and PTSD another, stealing my fic concept a whole different discussion no one probably cares about anyway but this? Using SUICIDE of all things as a funny whump device? No. This is disgusting, irresponsible, ableist, and dangerous. I would *never* write about suicidality in this manner and the fact that she does so after repeatedly not listening to people telling her the way she handles mental disorders is damaging is intentional bigotry and I want nothing to do with that.

If you come onto my blog to start drama over this I will block you. This is not tumblr discourse and this is not about headcanons and I have said so before. Look at my other post if you want more explanations, I will not spell all of it out again.

Bottom line, if you support that kind of ableist, offensive behavior I do not want you anywhere near my writing or my blog, this is supposed to be as safe of a space as possible for everyone. I am so fucking sorry for everyone who comes across her post without warning, if you need to talk my inbox and my dms are open, take care of yourself people.

#alex yells at the void #the last of us #tlou #ellie williams #joel miller #joel and ellie #the last of us hbo #tlou hbo #excuse me while i go have a breakdown now #cw suicidal ideation #cw suicide mentions #suicidality #too tired to care

[theoldaeroplane]

I inbox you the following: I must know what compels you about Link. I trust that he is Good and Excellent, but I simply yearn for an essay on what little niche trait makes you wanna fandom the fuck out of this little guy. 5-10 paragraphs of hyper fixated ramblings preferred, but not required.

ohhh starkid you've given me A GIFT. a GIFT.

So some background first, I think. I've always liked the Zelda games, in the way you play a mainstream game and are like "yeah that was good!" I played Ocarina of Time and Windwaker as a kid. I played Breath of the Wild when it first came out and had a fun time with it. Yeah. Good games! Fun mechanics. Characters seem a little flat, but they aren't why I'm here. What was the story again? Oh, right---yeah, they gave Zelda an actual personality that doesn't start and end with "princess" in the new one! She's a scientist! How neat.

Then Tears of the Kingdom comes out. I've just gotten a Steam Deck for my birthday and wow, turns out you can emulate TOTK already?? I try it out immediately. It's janky, but I love messing with emulators, so I keep going. I certainly don't have the cash to buy TOTK properly.

And in TOTK, for me, it starts with Zelda. It starts with this young woman barely out of her teens being flung into a horrible, frightening situation, and being forced to make an absolutely terrifying choice. And it turns out if you start looking at her more closely, that choice only becomes more and more viscerally upsetting as you incorporate things about her from the previous game.

It got me invested, and I still adore Zelda. I could probably write just as long a deliberation about her. But we're talking about Link.

I read a little bit of BOTW fanfic back when it first came out. It was almost all Sidon/Link stuff, because I liked the ship for a number of reasons, and one evening after another night of mainlining TOTK I decide to go look and see if I can find some that I remembered being good. I did, and they were still mostly good! But there was one in particular, with one line in particular. "You're Always Almost There," by Polyhexian. (On mobile so no link, sorry!)

'One hundred years ago,’ Link signed, 'A Guardian shot me through the chest,’ he grimaced as if in pain from even mentioning it, 'I died with everyone else, and then someone else decided to bring me, and only me, back to life to fix everything, to save everyone. I have to stop the Calamity. I have to save Hyrule. I have to fix the world. I am not a real person. I am everyone’s unfinished business.’

I had read it before. When I read it this time I closed my browser, opened Typora, and started writing. It wasn't more than a random narrative sifting through half collected ideas, and I neither finished nor posted it, but it got me started. A few weeks later I started writing To Be Well, which among other things directly addresses the idea that Link does not think of himself as a "real person"---and that he isn't sure if he wants to.

As I've written him, I've found more and more about him and his setting that fascinates me. Part of this is certainly that Link is intentionally designed as a "placeholder" character (word of God is he was deliberately designed to be androgynous to make it easier for more people to project on him). At first I was really fascinated by his relationship with Zelda, and wanted to look at that through a queerplatonic lens. In doing that I found myself trying to work through some problems of my own, which it turns out is just how I write fanfiction I guess: projecting! Huzzah! I decided to lean into it, and wrote "You do not have to be good," which is a story that takes some liberties with the canon to explore the subject of toxic purity and the toll it takes. Also, the logistics of kissing someone with a beak.

What makes Link compelling to me is ... what do you do, when you aren't allowed to be a person? What do you do when you've been told all your life things are like this and this and this, and that you must behave thusly?  What if you learn it was never true? How do you go from "perfect" to "real"? What does it even mean, being a person? How do you start? Is it even worth it?

I feel like I'm only scratching the surface, haha. I also love Link for whatever the hell he's doing with gender, and I've been having an absolute blast writing him as predominantly communicating via sign language. I'm playing fast and loose with a lot of things that only get half-mentioned in canon, and having a good old time playing in the sandbox of Hyrule. They're huge games and there's a lot of space for me to set up shop!

#loz link #tbw link #love that little freak #let him rest

[acacia-may]

Hi!! Me again. Can I ask 15, 16 and 25 for the excerpt game? Thanks a lot! 😁

Hi there, friend! Thank you so much for the ask! 🥰 I'd be happy to answer these questions from the writing excerpt ask game for you.

15. An excerpt from an old piece that I like

Here's an excerpt from "I'll Be Waiting" which was a Finral and Finesse piece (and my third Black Clover fanfiction ever) ^^

“Finral?” The sound of his name made him stop in his tracks, and the portal flickered though it didn’t disappear. Lady Finesse paused for a moment before asking quietly, “Is there anything that could bring you back?” A breathy laugh escaped from his mouth before he could stop it, but he shrugged. “My family finally acknowledging me…me beating Langris…becoming the Head of House Vaude…so…a miracle?” He sighed, and his shoulders slumped. “But that’s never going to—” “I’ll be waiting then.” Finral gasped at her gentle interruption. He blinked and whipped around in confusion on impulse. “For…for what?” he asked, and her kind eyes met his as she smiled at him with what he could have sworn was the most beautiful smile he had ever seen. “For you to come home.”

16. An excerpt from a recent piece I want to brag about

Thank you so much for asking this dear! I feel bad because I haven't written anything Black Clover in a long time, so this will have to be an excerpt from a fic for another fandom. I've chosen an excerpt from "Tell Me Where It Hurts" which is a brotherly hurt/comfort (and eventually heavy angst) story that I wrote in January of this year. I'm really proud of this OMORI fic and how it turned out. This snippet isn't from my favorite part of the fanfic, but I chose from a portion that doesn't have any spoilers for the game. ^^ That said, I’m really happy with and proud of the descriptions in the last paragraph, so I thought it fit the "I want to brag about" prompt. Also, yes, my intense love of brothers getting along and supporting and loving each other extends to other fandoms as well... 😁 (I am so normal I swear...)

Kel shrugged him off, squirming away from him. “Hero,” he began to protest again, but he sniffled—wiping his hand across his nose then his eyes and leaving a streak of dirt on his cheek. “Let’s get you cleaned up,” Hero gently interrupted, rubbing his hand comfortingly across his brother’s back. “My bike—” “It’s okay. I’ve got it.” With a reassuring nod, Hero grabbed the orange handlebars and set the bike upright again. It was in much better shape than Kel who had been flung off of it when he had hit that uneven spot in the sidewalk outside their house. Despite Hero’s gentle warnings that Kel should slow down and look out for that infamous crack in the pavement, Kel had slammed into it at rapid speed, losing his balance and skidding across the sidewalk into the dirt with a painful scraping sound. Hero could only imagine how much that had had hurt. The thought made something twist in his chest. He couldn’t stand to see the tears caught in Kel’s long eyelashes, to watch his bottom lip trembling as he tried not to cry. He wished it had been him who had crashed the bicycle rather than his brother. It probably would have hurt less.

25. An excerpt that I consider a favorite

I had to pick from "Wine Therapy" for this! It might be my favorite of all the Black Clover fanfictions that I've written, and it's is definitely one of my favorite stories I've ever written for any fandom. This is kind of long for a snippet, but the whole sequence was just so much fun to write...

“Take off your shoes and socks.” Langris practically leapt backwards in surprise. “What?” “I would roll up your pant legs too. They’ll get stained,” she added with a tilt of her head. Langris blinked at her but his mind was so muddled he couldn’t seem to find his question. Vanessa continued, “Like I already told you, if you’re going to buy this wine, you need to replace it. You can’t supply the ingredients or age it with your magic, but you can stomp the grapes.” A teasing grin spread between her cheeks. “So get to it!” “You...want me…to get into that basin and stomp these grapes with my feet?” Langris repeated in bewilderment. Vanessa nodded. “Yep. That’s exactly it. Once we have enough juice for another bottle to replace this one”—she held it up for him to see—“you are free to buy it.” Langris looked from the basin full of grapes to the bottle. “That’s disgusting. You can’t actually expect me to…” “You said you’d pay ‘any price’ for the best wine we had. This, plus 1200 Yul, is the price,” shrugged Vanessa. “Is that going to be a problem?” “I meant monetary price,” muttered Langris bitterly. “This is…this is ridiculous…and gross.” “Oh, are your feet gross?” she bantered. “Definitely wash them off beforehand, then.” She motioned to a small washtub, soap, and water nearby. “You’re making me pay in manual labor?” protested Langris. “Can’t you just raise the price? I’ll pay double what you’re asking me.” “No,” answered Vanessa with a smile. “Consider this the ‘price of perfection’ Langris.” She paused and glanced over at a nearby clock on the wall. “I’d get started if I were you, otherwise we’re going to be here all night,” she teased with a wink. Langris shook his head and gritted his teeth. What a cruel woman—he knew she was enjoying this. He sighed. But what choice did he have? He needed that wine, that perfect wine, no matter the cost—which was apparently his dignity.

#thank you so much for the ask #black clover fic snippets #omori-fic snippet #writing excerpt ask game #oighear 💜 #finral x finesse #langris vaude #vanessa enoteca #i don't think i'll ever beat Wine Therapy #it's one of my favorite things i've ever written

[macfrog]

Hello…..San Angelo?!?!?! 🙏🙏

they way you wrote joel’s perspective had me on the FLOOR??? i’m in so much awe of your beautiful brain!!!! really curious as to how you manage to write the characters perspectives so deeply and beautifully.. is it a whole process of getting yourself in their head or does it just come naturally?

also rereading scom is my only grasp on sanity right now so thanks for that masterpiece✨

aaah thank you so much! cries

it's sort of fifty-fifty, i guess? like, on the one hand, i am conscious of joel's character as i write him. it's always in the back of my mind - the things i think he would or wouldn't do. everything he says, does, thinks and feels has to track with who he is (and, in the case of san angelo, who he becomes). it's just an important part of the process, for me.

that being said, i don't think i'm doing any of it intentionally. he's just a very well-rounded character who i've spent a fair bit of time playing, watching, admiring lol, so he feels quite easy at this point to predict and imitate. i think (hope) i know him pretty well - so i just guide the story where i want it to go and watch how the dude reacts.

joel and reader always just feel like active agents in my head. when it starts to feel like i'm getting too involved and directing or positioning them a little too heavily, that's when i figure i've bled outside of his character. if i have to convince myself that he's doing something, then he probably wouldn't realistically be doing it.

i hope that makes sense. i'm stepping off the soapbox now, dw. but thank you for such a lovely question! i love talking about this man.

and thanks for reading! so glad you're enjoying :-) x

edit: make that old man do whatever the fuck you want him to, though. who the hell am i and who the fuck cares - it's fanfiction!

#also: i don't always get it right! #there will always be difference in opinion over who joel/any character is and how they would act #but this is just how i do it i guess #chats w max #clottiee #san angelo #fic luv

[tenpintsof-sundrop]

i am honestly so confused by your blog rn. how can you say that no one interacts with you or recognizes your work put into fics? you can go to your masterlist or archive and clearly see many comments, reposts, and recs of your work. half the time you respond to someone is you bitching you’re not in the fandom anymore or you’d never write for the characters again. i have seen pages long compliments and breakdowns and reblogs for stories and characters you hate the next moment later. there are many writers that want to have as much interaction u get and actually love their long term fandoms.

accurate depiction of me reading this

there is a big difference between saying 'no one interacts with me' and saying 'no one recognizes the work that I put into fics'

I acknowledge that plenty of people interact with my fics. And that is nice. But in a sense, that is - part of the problem? (Because it becomes a quantity over quality thing, and as I have said many times before - I dread having a popular fic and I hate writing for popular fandoms.) (But also, I cannot control what my brain is interested in, so I do end up writing for popular fandoms.) (Also, I unconsciously hate it when a bunch of people show up for one fic but not for another, because I know that people are not there for my writing and my style, there are just there for the smut or for the character - which is totally understandable, but then - why follow my blog?)

One of my biggest complaints is: people do not recognize the amount of hard work that goes into writing, editing, and polish a fic in order to post it. From the concept of the idea to posting - people don't know how hard it is. And this does go back to the writer to reader ratio, and so many other things.

I am still fully of the belief that people do not understand at a core level how much work goes into the kind of fanfiction I write - especially when battling chronic illness in order to write at least one fic per month. I keep thinking about what Crane said to Dick in S3:

Sprezzatura. The ability to make something very difficult look very effortless.

I think that I have that when it comes to writing fanfiction. I know that I have a lot of talent and skill when it comes to the particular genre of fics that I write, and I know that in terms of the original idea to the end product - most of my fics turn out how I want them to, so I would say that they were pretty flawless.

So I make writing a good fic look pretty easy. When it is not at all easy for me. It is very hard. And if you compared the amount of unfinished drafts (and even just ideas that are in my head that will never get written and have never even made it to paper) to the amount of finished fics I have, then my success rate is about - 20%, probably closer to 10%. But I haven't calculated it exactly.

But you guys never get to see what I consider my failures. (And when you do, I try to ignore the existence of those fics.) (And generally, I just consider my failures to be unfinished fics.)

Basically, what I'm trying to say is - you don't see all the struggle I go through in order to get a finished, well polished fic in front of your eyes. So that is one thing.

The other major thing is - apparently I change fandoms too much? Which I didn't even think was a fucking issue. I mean I knew it annoyed some people, but I didn't care. Because I can't force myself to write fanfiction for a fandom that my brain doesn't care about - because those fics would take months longer, and they would suck. Due to burnout and my own disinterest.

Saying that 'half the time' I respond to comments, it's me saying that I'm not in the fandom anymore (like... it sounds like someone is salty that I haven't written for their fandom in a while?) - like dude, sorry, I'm not one of those fucking blogs writing AUs that are 7 times removed from the original source material, delusional pretending that I'm still writing about the canon characters when those are just OCs wearing name tags in an effort to keep myself interested in popular characters. (If writing that kind of fanfiction actually makes other people happy, then good for them - but to me, it always feels like a lifeless bid to keep their blog in the spotlight and to keep their followers' eyes on them with the names of popular characters. But oh well.) I go where my creative juices take me. and that can be to very obscure characters (like characters from one-off horror movies) or to (sadly) very popular characters - where I will write three fics and then fuck off. I have always been multifandom.

Also I have NEVER said that I will 'never' write for certain characters again. The only time I have sworn off writing for certain fandoms completely is writing for kpop rpf. Other than that, all fandoms I have written for are still on the table for the future. Like - what the fuck?

I have also never said that I hate certain characters. And yes - I do tend to switch fandoms a lot, but it's due to my creative interests, and follow my autistic hyperfixations. Fanfiction isn't supposed to be forced like fucking homework. It is supposed to bring joy. And writing for a range of vastly different characters on an unpredictable schedule - brings me joy.

Also, the 'pages long' responses, often come from the same people over and over again, and shout out to them, they are fucking lovely !!!! Shout out to Rotten Anon, and @star-mum and @pikispixies and lately @sreidisms - who have been my biggest supporters. But 4 or 5 people consistently (and wonderfully) showing up to write essay comments on fics is not the same as 100s of people always leaving engaging comments all the time (which is what you seem to think I have on my blog??)

Like the ratio is fucked. Having over 1,000 followers or a fic getting over 500 likes and only getting 2 or 3 engaging comments per fic - is a very strange ratio. And I am not saying that everyone has to write a fucking essay, but if you ask me a question about the fic in the comments, I will literally wanna kiss you on the mouth nasty style, and I will appreciate it 10x more than you just saying 'your writing is good'.

and @nctzenkane is my biggest champion behind the scenes, my literal muse for most of the fics I have ever written (and he will probably be scathing when he reads your comment lmao)

also - two or three passive aggressive and selfish comments can ruin a fic and can douse my creativity, even if one person leaves a long, beautiful essay comment encouraging me. sadly, our human brains remember the negative more than the positive

and when people leave long essay comments, I try my hardest to respond in an engaging way (even when I am exhausted from my chronic illness, I try my hardest to engage them, even if respond to their comments can take hours of my time, which takes time away from writing more fics - I wanna show them how appreciative I am of their comments) - I have never once told someone to fuck off because I'm not in that fandom anymore. literally, show me the fucking receipts to back up your delusion. please

yes, other writers who have smaller blogs would love to have more comments on their fics, but they too would feel annoyed if all the comments they were getting were 'Part 2???' or felt like someone's personal vlog on their fic - commentating their personal issues with your fic (like it being immoral or unfinished) rather than talking to the actual person who wrote it - seemingly not even realizing that there is a person behind the fic who wrote it.

I don't want more comments on my fics. I want different ones. I don't need to be patted on the head and told my writing is good - yes, those comments are nice, but I can only say 'thank you' so many times before I feel like a plastic, fake bitch - I want to discuss the content of my fics. I want to discuss the plot. The only thing that is different about every single one of my fics is the plot - the themes, how the characters act. and that is what I want to disucss in the comments section. that is what I find mentally enriching.

the only reason I post my fics is so that people might find them and enjoy them and so that I can leave a lasting positive effect on this earth, and so that I can find some enjoyment in discussing the fucking story I worked so hard on.

so please - tell me what is so wrong with that

#anonymous #sundrop answers #fanfiction #discussion #about me

[stephsycamore]

Hello friends. Yet another post on a topic literally no one here signed up for but the blog is about my hyperfixation of the month so here we are

I have been reading dramione. I know in my last post i said i was ki da over dramione after a couple of fics because i find the pairing too toxic but i only kinda lied because i have just reread the like 4 dramione fics i found and liked and now i will review them. Technically i have read/started more than 4 but i won't be commenting on fics i didn't like because that isn't fair to the writers.

The first one was manacled. Which i know what a fucking reintroduction to the fandom. But i am no young newbie. I used to read and rewrite A LOT of harry potter fic and while its still fuck jk rowling, she doesn't financially benefit from fic and i heard years ago that she doesn't like fic so. I hope its all a big fuck u to her.

Anyway, manacled. Wow!!! What the fuck???? It has lived rent free in my head ever since. I literally cannot stop thinking about it. If ever i reentered the harry potter fic world let it be known that it would be so i can write fanfic of this fanfic. A couple points - manacled is kinda overly long and would benefit from an editor/beta reader, but I heard senlinyu wrote it on her phone while nursing a baby and just???? Idk what her day job is, but that woman needs to be doing creative writing mfas, writers workshops, residencies, whatever. That is extraordinary creative talent.

I think the first part with hermione in the manor was a bit overly long and too torture porn ish. A lot of the scenes bordered into the unnecessarily gratituous. But overall, it was well plotted, well written, and gut wrenching. The last section takes my breath away

The second fic i read was Remain Nameless. And while i kinda don't love smut (it makes me a little uncomfy) i think remain nameless is a perfrct example of fanfic as a genre. Within fic, there are obviously genres, but there are stylistic elements and things that I think makes fanfiction a genre in itself. Remain Nameless is an exploration of character that goes beyond the confines of conventional or traditionally publish-able story structure. It is too long, too drawn out, too indulgent to be a traditionally published story. If i swap out the names and details in Manacled or Draco Malfoy and the Mortifying Ordeal of Being in love (up next) out, its a probably close to a stand alone novel, but Remain Nameless relies on you knowing and already caring about Draco and Hermione. I don't mean that disparagingly at all, I just think sometimes people don't realize that fanfic should be different from traditionally published novels and that is a benefit of the genre. I think Remain Nameless is great. Its an indulgent, fluffy read that takes two broken people and slowly puts them back together again. Its like a hug in book format.

My next one is DMATMOOBIL!! I loved this one. And the author??? You cannot convince me that this fic was not written by someone with literal years of publishing experience in contemporary romance. No way. Its too good. Not just in a good writing way. Manacled is good in an unfiltered, raw talent way, but DMATMOOBIL is polished. The plot is perfectly structured and then each chapter within that is perfectly structured. I loved it. It wad witty, funny, heartfelt, and exciting. Not sure what more I can say about it. It reads like published fiction both in its polish and readability, and I think of all the fics I read has the best worldbuilding. It is truly exciting to read about the possibilities of magical and muggle science colliding in this book and bringing their world to the 21st century.

The last fic i read was Green Light by SereneMusafir. I thought it was so good but would benefit from being split into two maybe even three books. Green Light features a journalist coming to interview Draco many years after the events of the book, so that kinda complicates splitting it up, but as it stands, the story parts are too vast and thematically disparate to be one book. The first part has Draco and Hermione on an expedition in the desert to find a archeological myth and the writing is extraoridinary. Its poetic and cinematic. But I think at times it all tries to do too much. Like I said, the whole thing needs to be split up but each chapter also needs to be a bit shorter. Again, I don't mean cutting content, but rather restructuring. As it is, I read an incredible scene, but then there's like 5 more scenes of something else, and by the time I'm at the end of the chapter, I've kinda forgotten what amazing prose I read earlier on. Things get lost in this way. Beautiful passages buried.

I think two or three books would also allow each thematic section to be explored better. Idk i thought about this one a lot. I likely will not reread Green Light the way I have reread the others on this list, but other than Manacled, it is the one I think about most. Its the most ambitious plot wise and it kinda got lost in that ambition but I think it has so much potential and was over all very good.

Anyway. That is the end to this book review no one asked for. I will likely not be reading more dramione. So here ends that brief of excellent phase.

#dramione #harry potter #harry potter fanfiction #harry pottet fanfic #dramione fic #draco malfoy #hermione granger #manacled #senlinyu #remain nameless #heyjude19 #draco malfoy and the mortifying ordeal of being in love #isthisselfcare #dmatmoobil #green light #serenemusafir

[mtdthoughts]

Moonlight Pt. 1 (Migi & Dali Fanfiction)

At the time I'm writing this post, it's New Year's Eve, and I wanted to finish 2023 with something that I've been cooking up for a while.

Never in my life did I imagine that I would write fanfiction.

But I really do love this series, and I thought that I could help fill in some of the story that wasn't shown. In particular, this fanfiction occurs during Chapter 43 of the Migi & Dali manga or Episode 13 of the anime. It is told from Migi's perspective, and I wanted to add some context based on my interpretations of the characters and my (limited) imagination.

Be warned, I am not an expert at writing, so I can't guarantee that the reader will enjoy reading this, but I hope they do. Tumblr is probably not the best place to post this, but it'll do for now. I might post the other parts here too.

I decided to title this fanfiction "Moonlight" as a reference to the "Water Flea Song" that the twins are so familiar with.

CHAPTER 1

It was the night of Christmas Eve, and I laid in bed excited, unable to sleep. Because Santa would come tonight, or at least that's what the old couple said. I don't know if Santa's real or not, but that doesn't matter, because I'm a good boy and I’m getting a present!

"Perfect, if I continue to pretend to believe in Santa, I can get presents forever. Right, Dali?"

Dali was on the other side of the bed, but I couldn't feel him move or hear anything from him.

"You asleep?" I asked. No response.

Dali has been acting strangely lately. I know that the old couple would accept us both, but Dali says he's fine with just me being happy. That can't be true, right? To be honest, I'm not sure what Dali was thinking, but I thought that if I cheered him up, maybe he'd change his mind.

"Let's split the presents in half..." I whispered.

But was that okay? Did Dali really want to share my presents?

Oh well, no use in thinking now. Better get to sleep, or else Santa won't come tonight...

I was now sitting at the dining table, and as usual the old couple was sitting across from me with smiles on their faces, and the golden beast was pacing around, looking hungry. The table was set with lots of delicious food like jambalaya and turkey, and the air was filled with the smell of cherry pie. We talked and laughed as we usually did, but then I noticed a familiar voice. I turned to my right, and there was Dali, with his scar, sitting next to me, laughing with a joyful expression that I had not seen in a long time.

Huh?

"Dali...?"

I was now lying in bed with my pajamas on. Oh, it was just a dream.

I yawned and got up from bed, and saw that Dali was sitting on the edge of the bed, staring at something. At our little Christmas tree, there were two presents that looked the same.

"Huh? Did the present split in two?"

A knock came at the door. Dali reacted, and quickly ran to the wardrobe to hide himself. Right, we still needed to be Hitori. Rather, I still needed to be Hitori...

The door opened, and it was the old couple, with the same warm smiles on their faces.

"Good morning, Hitori!" said the old woman.

"Good morning," said the old man.

Before I could greet them, I remembered that it was time to open my present. I looked back toward our little tree. Oh right, there were two presents.

"Hey, I thought that each child only gets one present. Did Santa make a mistake?" I asked.

The old couple turned to look at each other, then looked back at me with the same smiles.

"Santa doesn't make mistakes," said the old woman.

"Why don't you go ahead and open them?" said the old man.

I went ahead and tore open the presents and revealed what they were.

"Whoa, a clay pasta set!" I exclaimed. I could make so many delicious-looking creations with this! Spaghetti, cherry pie, omelets, and so much more! I turned to the next present.

"And this is, an exciting and exhilarating science set?" I said, confused. Huh? I don't think I could play with this. This looked a bit too hard for me to figure out. I returned to marvel at the pasta set.

"I see," said the old woman, "It looks like this house has a gluttonous and creative child, as well as an intelligent and sensitive child."

"It took us a while to notice the differences," said the old man.

Huh? Did they figure us out?

"We'll be waiting downstairs with seats for the both of you," the old lady said, as the old couple smiled and walked away.

I can't believe this; they finally accepted us! I was so happy that tears came out of my eyes. Dali and I could finally be ourselves now! We could finally live the lives we always wanted!

Or so I thought. I ran to the wardrobe and called for Dali's name as I tried opening the door, but Dali kept it shut.

Why? What was Dali thinking? Even though we’re twin brothers, I still couldn't understand what Dali was thinking. Dali usually knew what I was thinking, so why couldn't I do the same for him?

Still, I knew that Dali was suffering, just like the time when I ran away from him. Ever since we came home from the Ichijo house, he spent every day sitting under the dining table just eating the scraps I gave him. He told me he was fine with being my shadow because we would always be together, but for some reason I still felt his loneliness and sadness.

I wanted to help him, but I wasn't sure how. I just wanted Dali and me to be happy together...

That’s it!

"Dali... it seems like we're different after all. And maybe we'll only be getting even more different from now on, with what we like, what we dislike, and how we feel about things... But there will still be some things that'll never change, like my happiness being Dali's happiness, and Dali's happiness being my happiness!"

That's right. It didn't matter that we were different, and it's okay that I didn't understand everything in Dali’s mind. What mattered was that we understood each other’s hearts, and that we would always be together helping each other.

Please Dali, let my feelings get through to you…

"..."

It was silent for a little while before the wardrobe door started creaking. As the door slowly opened, Dali came out, facing down so that I couldn't see the face he was making. As soon as Dali stepped onto the floor, I ran to him and gave him a big hug.

"Dali!" I exclaimed as I embraced him tightly.

He returned my hug, and I felt that he was slightly shaking.

A few seconds later, we released each other, and Dali had his usual confident grin.

"Well then, let's get to breakfast, Migi. We don't want to keep them waiting, right?"

Tears continued to flow from my eyes as I gave him a wide smile and replied, "Yeah!"

#migi and dali #migi to dali #fanfic

[sequoiareachesforthesky]

After seeing all of the not so cool stuff happening in the Japanese side of the MILGRAM audience, I wanted to share some positivity about the international MILGRAM community.

I'm French, so I specifically wanted to highlight the honestly fantastic work put up by the MILGRAM FR YouTube channel. They are releasing french covers of all of the prisoners songs, with the help of various French utaite (some of which are pretty big names in the french community. Like I wouldn't expect non-French people to know who Sumashu is but goddam. I was quite impressed to see him as mikoto).

I find the dedication of this MILGRAM FR group truly amazing. Although they're not trying to translate the entirety of MILGRAM material that exist, they make high quality covers with beautifully translated lyrics. (My favourites are the Bring it On lyrics but sadly, Futa's songs have been removed from the channel for now, as the team has parted ways with his former cover artist. The covers should be back soon with a new singer tho!) It makes me proud of being french (which is not something I'm usually proud of ngl 💀) to see this part of the community making MILGRAM accessible to a french audience.

Of course I'm writing this post in English so it's likely that whoever reading this doesn't speak French, but that's the point! Getting people who wouldn't usually come across this channel to check it out!

There's so many people contributing to making MILGRAM more accessible to non-japanese speaking audience, and I'm forever grateful to them. Of course there's everyone translating the VD (especially @/onigiriico, thank you so so much for your translations), the unofficial MILGRAM Eng twitter account, the MILGRAM fancult (although they've deleted their twitter account, they've done a lot of translating timelines from the app and such), and all of the contributors on the MILGRAM wiki.

And that's only the sources I have personally come across while getting into MILGRAM. There's probably a lot more I didn't mention. Without them, I wouldn't have been able to enjoy MILGRAM as much as I currently do, so I'm thankful to all of them. Really.

And that's not even mentioning the various users on social media who share their theories, thoughts, headcanons, fanarts, fanfictions, memes and more about MILGRAM.

I was feeling a bit down about the MILGRAM community today, so I just wanted to make a post where I'm happy about it instead, where I can remember why I love it. Not to sound too sappy but fandoms as extension of works of fiction are truly amazing. Telling stories is amazing. Talking about them is amazing. And as someone who struggles to openly talk about my personal interests offline (and even online honestly), just seeing that other people are just as invested as I am in a story, if it's not more, truly makes my day.

Anyway, that was a bit unnecessarily long, I hope you guys check out MILGRAM FR and are having fun in your lives. Have a nice day!

#milgram #milgram project #I've been feeling quite stressed out by the attention my previous post has been getting #I'm not used to so many people seeing what i say online #but i don't regret actually interacting with the tumblr milgram fandom instead of sticking to just being a bystander

[awrestlinggirlwholoves80sbands]

Dear fucker Nikki (fanfiction)

A/N: This little letter was born out of nowhere and will probably give you a toothache but it needed to get out. Plus it was Nikki's birthday yestarday, so why not? A huge thanks to @glamourizedcocaine for their wonderful handwriting <3

Dear Nikki,

you are probably wondering who the fuck I am but don’t bother because I don’t exist. Well, I should say I don’t exist yet but I will. See, I’m Nikki from 2023 your 65 years old version and as you can see we didn’t lose our love for making things as complicated and dramatic as we can.

Let’s start with the big question: how in the hell did we get to 65 years old? I’m still wondering about it myself so I can only give you my honest opinion : we pulled our heads out of our ass and someone up there took mercy on us. Does this answer satisfy you? Probably not, but I’m here to explain.

Right now it’s December 11 1987 for you. You are all alone in your Van Nuys house, shooting up under a Christmas tree and wondering why nobody loves you or why did your family abandon you. “Why does living feel so draining?” you used to say or I should say I used to say but I prefer referring to you as a separate being. Loneliness is eating you alive as much as your addiction is destroying your life piece by piece, you know that but you are too scared to admit it. You need help but you don’t know how to ask for it.

Second question: why are you writing to me, your past self? I could say it’s because I’m an egocentric bastard or because I want to leave something to this world but I’d be lying. The simplest answer is that I felt the need to. 

The more complex one is that we live in a fucked up world, where each day everything seems to fall to pieces and the opioids epidemic seems to take more and more lives. It doesn’t matter how much I try to take action because it never seems enough but if I know something that did help that was the book I wrote about our story so maybe this letter will too.

However deep down I know you can read through my bullshit. Even after all these years I still think I can trick people but I end up looking like a child with a mouth covered in sugar who swears he didn’t eat any candy. I didn’t completely lie when I said I’m doing this to help people but I omitted that I’m one of those people.

“What the fuck dude, you just told me we get to be 65 and now you tell me we are still need help?”  

Well, everyone needs a little comfort sometimes even when you know all the tricks to take care of your mental health. I might be an old man but you still live in me, just like the little Nikki who has been hurted by everyone, simply some days I can hear your voices more loudly than others. I know the symptoms all too well : racing heart, general tiredness, the urge to fuck everything up, emotions all over the place. 

So what do I do? Anything you wouldn’t do: allowing myself to feel the emotions instead of bottling them up, relaxing, distract myself and writing this letter. Knowing who I was and how far I’ve come, getting back in contact with you gives me hope for two reasons : reminds me I don’t want to get back to that and empowers me to heal. I thought nobody was there to comfort me so I’m letting myself from the future do it because sometimes it’s easier to be kinder to our younger versions even if they were a piece of work like you.

You’re worth it, just like I am. Even when the world feels like collapsing on itself, we are still worth it. We were worth it when I was you, a junkie, and we are when I’m just an old man playing bass. I just need to repeat it over and over until it becomes a part of me since the human minds are incredibly forgetful when it comes to their importance.

I want to leave you with hope, the same one that helps me going through all the hard times in my life. We made it, we finally got the family we always wanted : Gunner, Storm,  Decker, Frankie and Ruby are all different ages and we love them with our whole heart. Ruby is only 3 now and she gets to receive everything we didn’t, especially since we are more mature compared to the others. I hope I’m a good enough father for them but sure I tried and keep trying my best. What matters is that it’s possible to break the abuse cycle and we are the living proof. 

The band it’s still going after 40 years and after a brief pause we are still touring. So many teenagers love Motley Crue now because they made a movie about us, which allowed me  to tell your story and show people there’s always light at the end of the tunnel.

Thank you Nikki for not giving up on us and coming back that night. Thank you for allowing me to blurt my feelings out in this letter on my birthday, while I’m hidden in my home’s studio while I get to roll a tear and move on. Thanks to all the other Nikki(s) who fell down and got right up because that’s what we do. And lastly thanks to myself for keeping fighting and making sure that future Nikki can enjoy his old age with a lovely family and badass fans.

It will get better for you and for me.

Sincerely yours

An old man you killed 36 years ago or Nikki Sixx.

#nikki sixx #motley crue #80srock #80s rock band #fanfiction #my fanfiction #letters