#this is by far the longest snippet i've put up

[iturbide]

Summer Storm

32,861/50,000 words

“Halt there.”

Miryn stopped, instinctively quashing the light still flickering in his palm.  Lindulf’s voice had come as a low, stern command…but as he held still in the narrow gap, awkwardly half-crouched in the dark, he could hear something else from the passage ahead: footsteps.

“You’re not really in a position to be giving orders.”

The voice was muffled, and the image of the silver masks flashed across Miryn’s mind.  

“I am a member of the Luvirei city guard,” Lindulf replied, entirely calm.  “Lay down your weapons.”

“We know full well who you are,” a second unfamiliar voice said.

“Then you know I will see through my mission.  I suggest you surrender peacefully and return to Luvirei—”

“Come on, now, Lindy.”  A third voice, wheedling and nasal through the mask.  “We’re out here trying to keep the city safe, just like you!”

“You have been poisoning travelers on their way to and from the city,” the guard snapped.  “How is that keeping Luvirei safe?”

“We’re performing a service.”

Miryn heard several sets of boots shuffle aside, seeming to make space for someone new to approach.  “The guard is certainly aware of the werewolf attacks by now; if I’m not mistaken, you were responsible for taking one of those beasts down when it attacked your patrol.”  Lindulf said nothing, but Miryn thought he heard a huff of breath.  “You’ve seen first-hand the threat they pose: it took three trained guards to subdue just one of them!  And there are countless more hiding their affliction, one bad day away from losing control over that wretched inner beast and slaughtering their way through our city.”

“You have no proof of that,” Lindulf growled. 

“Of course we do,” the voice replied, elated.  “We’ve been preparing it for weeks now.”

A bitter smell crept through the gap in the stone, burning in his nose — and Miryn held his breath, fighting down the cough that spasmed in his chest.  He knew this stench for what it was, now: summoning up a thin thread of power, he pushed a faint breeze back to where the smoke originated from, praying that no one would notice the magic or his presence…

A deep, heavy cough tore through stillness.  Miryn stiffened, hearing a spear clatter to the ground, followed by someone falling hard to the ground.  “Are we going to hold him here?” the wheedling voice asked over the sound of Lindulf’s ragged, wheezing breaths.  “Someone’s bound to wonder if he’s gone too long.”

“He’s not exactly the sharpest spear on the pile,” another snorted.  “He doesn’t do much thinking for himself, just listens to Izzy.  I’m sure we can get him on side.  It’ll just take a little convincing.”

Miryn’s heart pounded in his ears, almost drowning out the footsteps moving toward the fallen guardsman.  There were at least four of them, and even with the element of surprise on his side, what could he do that would incapacitate them all and leave Lindulf unharmed — and there was no telling whether these were the only ones, or whether there were still more waiting…

A new sound cut through his spiraling thoughts: a low, throaty growl…and a raw, hoarse howl of pain from Lindulf, cut short by an animal roar.

Terror rooted him to the spot.  He heard shouting, wordless and panicked, the scuff of bootsteps — and something huge throwing its weight across the narrow space, cracking bone and rending flesh accompanied by something raking across the stone.  Metal clattered down, more footsteps pounding away — but the animal presence flung itself after, and another body hit the ground, shrieking and scrabbling and kicking as the giant creature dragged it back…and with a horrible crunch of bone, the crying stopped, replaced by the drip of what could only be blood.

Miryn’s head swam, and he reminded himself to breathe; it came too fast and too shallow, and he tried vainly to remind himself to breathe deeper, instead.  Something remained outside the collapsed passage, a massive bulk scraping at the tumbled stones…and a sudden snuffling sound, echoing as the beast sniffed at the gap where the potion maker still hid.

Fear clawed at his throat, stealing what little breath he’d managed to catch.

He’d heard what it did to Lindulf, and the strangers who’d brought it forth.  He could imagine, too vividly, what it would do to him if it caught him.

There would only be one chance at this.

Drawing deep from his reserves, Miryn focused on every calming thought he could grasp: the scent of chamomile tea on a rainy evening, the blooming lavender outside his window swaying in the summer breeze, the warm aroma of chestnut rolls his sister baked on cool autumn days.  His heartbeat slowed, the magic steadying in his hand…and as the animal outside drew in a deep breath, he turned his palm toward it and released a swift breath of wind laden with a deep sense of calm, blowing the smoke down the passage.

Startled, the presence retreated.  Miryn heard a sneeze, the flap of something shaking vigorously out of his sight, panting breaths…and silence.

He did not move, waiting for the beast to leave.

Instead, he heard a weak, familiar voice.  “Miryn?”

Another wave of panic shot through him, and before he could think he was throwing himself through the gap.  Lindulf was alive — injured, but alive, and if he hurried there might be time to save him…

Miryn tumbled back into the torchlight, breathing hard even as he scrambled for his hip case and the cloths he’d stashed inside; when he finally turned his gaze to the corridor, his hands continued to move without him, the practiced motions growing jerky and finally stopping entirely as he took in the scene.

Two bodies lay mangled in the small space, both wearing what had once been white jackets with red sashes, now stained almost entirely red.  He glanced briefly over the closest one’s face, and swiftly looked away when he realized he could barely recognize a head among the mess; the other body was in little better shape, with one arm shredded and the other nearly detached at the shoulder, barely held in place by what remained of a sleeve.  And in the middle of it all stood Lindulf, his hardened leather cuirass gone and clothes shredded at the seams; his throat and chest were drenched in blood, gore dripping from his shaking hands as he wiped one across his mouth, leaving a thick red smear across his jaw.

“You shouldn’t be standing,” Miryn said, stumbling forward a step to take the guard’s arm — only for Lindulf to recoil, staggering back a step and nearly tripping over one of the bodies.  Holding up his hands in a gesture of peace, the potion maker showed the clean cloth in his hand.  “Where are you hurt?” he asked, force of habit pulling from his mouth words he already knew the answer to.

Lindulf drew in a deep, trembling breath.  “It’s not mine,” he whispered.

The faint smell of bitter smoke tickled at his nose again.  Turning on his heel, Miryn scanned the ground…and found one of the censers, covered in blood but still leaking smoke; kicking it against the wall, he crushed the embers under his heels to extinguish them…before quietly holding the cloth out to the guardsman.

Lindulf took it silently, wiping his face and hands with it and refusing to meet Miryn’s eye.  “There’s another name for it,” the potion maker murmured.  “Deathshood,” he clarified after a moment.

The guardsman did not look up at him as he wrung blood from the soaked fabric.  “What is it?” he asked.

Miryn had a feeling Lindulf already knew the answer.  But he spoke the name, all the same.

“Wolfsbane.”

#original fiction #nanowrimo #summer storm #cw blood #cw gore #this is by far the longest snippet i've put up #but this is the thing i've been most excited about #so you get the whole thing #i want to know how many people saw this coming

[onakomiyaki]

just a silly crush (not) pt.2

pairing : daniel ricciardo x childhood friend-brabham!reader

summary : your wall is starting to crumbling down, thanks to daniel. and the ice exterior you've been putting on for years started to melt, thanks to the daniel, the sunshine himself.

warning: unedited and rushed work, harsh words, slowburn.

a/n : we start to explore what's going on with y/n brabham. and honestly this is one of my favorite chapter to write so far!

most of juniors that tried to befriended you have one same goals; to get you to help them to get close to some of your friends-your driver friends of course. or maybe that's just how you've been treated your whole life when you grow up, so you just assume that they want you for something–link to the drivers in this case.

if there is something you know best about f1 is that it is a hot topic amongst your juniors in modelling world and oh how they wish to be one of the wags of the f1 drivers.

many have tried, from buying you some expensive gift, trying to go on a lunch date with you, or just be your matchmaker–which let's be honest, sound kind of dumb when you surrounded by some of good looking-breath-taking drivers, not only in f1 but on some other motorsports as well–and the list is still counting.

and you, by natural, got a lot of heat from it. but you're fine. by the end of the day you're still the one who spend some holidays with those drivers, not them.

but not even once succeeded to even own your private phone number.

"(y/n) you really need to be nice to your colleagues, the media is onto you again." anna, your manager, watch your reflection with annoyed expression.

"what is it now?" you simply ask, eyes closing as you massage your temple.

"you were voted as the most cold-hearted models to work with." she exclaim, walking towards your direction with ipad in her hand.

you just stare at the pad with unamused expression. you read the headline with a frown on your face, then let out a scoff.

"(Y/N) BRABHAM, THE EVERCHANGING ICE PRINCESS,"

"COLD AS THE ARTICS, HERE ARE (Y/N) BRABHAM'S ICONIC RESTING B**** FACE!"

"i honestly adore (y/n) so much, she's an icon. but it is-it is hard to get close to her. to make friend with her outside the work talk. almost like she build this wall around us."

"i remember she's constantly sat alone in the dressing room-sometimes she just sat there with her headphone on. and when she's alone no one dare to talk to her-she's just that intimidating!"

and there's more articles and some interview snippets from your junior about how unapproachable you are.

"ice princess? what am i, elsa from frozen?" you said, scrolling away.

"i told you to be nice to those young models, (y/n)." anna said, snatching the ipad from your hand.

you finally turn your body, looking up at your manager. "they only want me because they want to get to know my friends." you stated.

"well maybe they want to be your friends? can't you just humor them for once? it won't kill you to gave them some of your friends' numbers..." she asked, sitting down on the sofa, just across you.

"anna, im not trying to gatekeep those men. they are welcome to get to know lewis, lando, carlos, charles, max, esteban, pierre-"

"and daniel."

"-nope. not daniel, not a chance." you finally turn your body, pointing at anna with frown on your face.

"why not? you know him the longest i'm sure you'll find a model that will fit him as a girlfriend." she asked, throwing a little smirk at you.

"that's the problem, i've known him almost all my life! what if i introduce him to a wrong person then shit went downhill? what if they only want his money? i can't risk that anna." you said, voice gone an octave higher.

"(y/n) you know that's not true. that's just you being scared of nothing-"

"anna you don't understand! he is the one constant in my life that i can count on–he keep me grounded okay? i am me with him and the thought of losing him-"

"(y/n)-"

"‐point is im not gonna risk my friendship like that. especially with daniel. if they want to get to know those drivers, just attend the race, get a paddock pass or something. im sure if those drivers truly interested they will come." you finally stated, voice stern as you turn your back on your manager like a kid throwing small tantrum.

anna shakes her head in disbelief as she walk away from you, taking the ipad with her. "you're such a child sometimes."

"oh but you love me enough to stay with me for 10 years." you bite back.

"and i am amazed at myself for doing that. okay back to the topic, can just think about befriending your junior, please? that's all i ask from you, and you know i never asked anything from you." anna said as she walk out from your room, closing the door behind her.

you just sat there, pouting as you return your attention to your original task, watching the replay of british gp on your laptop.

it has been almost 2 months since your party and your meeting with daniel. and its also been 2 months since you call him. yes, texts were exchanged, but of course you miss his voice as well.

between your tight schedule and his race, you never find a time to call him. well you can but choose not to. you don't want to distract him.

as you saw the checkered flag being waved you take your phone, wanting to send daniel a congratulations text for his p5.

p5 bigman. congrats! podium next maybe? i miss watching your shoey thingy.

you stop, hovering at the send button. you want to call him. should you call him? you should probably call him instead. its his highest position of this season afterall.

but what if he's busy? he should be loaded with interviews by now right? ah there's also briefing right? you shouldn't call him. but, it won't hurt trying to call him. worst thing that can happen is the call never got answered anyway.

so you just sat there, phone in your hand as you chew the inside of your cheek, tasting a bit of iron when you accidentally bit too hard.

10 minutes have passed, and you're still staring at your phone. pretty sure by now daniel would've changed his outfit, already out of his race suit and maybe already headed back to his motorhome.

before you chickened out, you press the call button. the call is connected and you shriek, pushing the phone away as if the phone burn you.

"please don't answer, please don't answer! please-"

"hello?"

"p5 mate, that's a good one." one of the engineers welcome him with a clap on his shoulder, but voice is not as excited as it should be.

"yeah, thanks. i can do better, i will do better next time." daniel said, voice a bit trembling from the adrenaline that still coursing through his body.

he pull the baclava off or his head, sweats dripping from his brown curls. his freckled face flushed, chest heave heavily as he wait for his water. if you look close enough, you can see steam seeping out from his racing suit.

he tear the velcro of his race suit, pulling the zipper down. "daniel! points for both of us!" lando, race suit sat snuggly on his hips, greeting the older man with a beaming smile.

"and you did amazing out there. keep up with the goodwork." daniel said, ruffling the younger's hair, smiling proudly at the young brit.

although daniel got points for mclaren, he knew that all eyes are on him. expecting something more from the ferocious honey badger, a win maybe. and truth be told he also expected more from himself.

the fact that p5 is his current highest position in this season really speak something. of course its not a bad thing, but he can't help it. he knew mclaren put a lot of faith on the 7 times champions to take home the first trophy for mclaren.

he silently walk back to his driver room, helmet sat snuggly on his waist beneath his arm. michael, his trainer, follow him while he ramble about their next training session.

but of course the only voices he heard right now is just some static buzz and noises. he is dissosiating, moving autopilot towards the sofa and plop down. his body instantely melts as he stare blankly at the ceiling.

"- and (y/n) will be there and all." michael said.

at the mention of your name, daniel's ears perk up and he only gave the other man a puzzled looks.

"sorry, you were saying?" he said.

"daniel this is getting ridiculous. i've spent 5 minutes explaining how we can improve your training and you just listen to me after i mention (y/n). just call her for godsake." michael said as he put some notes for daniel down on the table, throwing an acussing stare at him. daniel flustered under his gaze.

"sorry i was just– its not that! i–"

"i get it buddy, you're hopelessly in love with (y/n)" michael said, patting the aussie on the shoulder as he walk out from his room. "you really should call her man, stop playing the tough guy card, you're not fooling yourself or anyone."

daniel sigh in defeat, unable to come out with a comeback. to think that everyone but her knew about that–his feeling–is just sad at this point. michael was right, he is hopelessly, pathetically, desperately in love with you. for years now.

he knew he loved you eversince he saw your freckled face blushed under the australian heat, helmet in your hand 20 years ago as you listen to your father explaining how you can improve your turns and how you should control your kart well.

he loved you eversince you introduce yourself, voice cocky and proud after winning the carting session. "(y/n) brabham, and i will be an f1 driver." he remember what you said as you walk towards him and he was stunned, just silently watching as you walk away from him, your ponytail swaying left and right.

he loved you eversince you give him a can of cold soda, putting the can on his cheek. he jumped, flinching at the sudden cold sensation on his cheek. and that was the first time he heard your–oh so cute–cackles.

he loved you eversince he found you hiding away out of the karting field, sitting alone on the grass. he saw how your back was trembling, so he sat down with you. "i will never be a driver. i will never be enough." you said, wiping your tears as you lean into his left shoulder. and daniel listen to the voice of your soft sobs, letting his race suit wet from the tears.

he loved you. still love you. and will always love you. desperately so that it hurts him whenever you call him your bestbuddy ever or whenever he listen how you cry after unlucky relationship with some random man or when he went out on a date with some random girls, trying his best to burrow his feeling deep, which of course doesn't work.

just let me be your man, dammit.

so, daniel let out a deep shuddered breath as he sat down. his eyes landed on his phone that laying on the table, next to the report papers michael left for him.

should he call you?

he shakes his head, raising from his seat to walk towards his fridge. he took one of the bottled juice michael had prepared for him. he took the lid off as he empty the bottle in no time.

after throwing away the empty bottle, he shurg off his race suit, tossing it to the nearest chair.

he was halfway from taking his heat suit off of his body when his phone rang. its so embarassing how his head whipped quickly to his phone and how he struggle to just shrug his heat protector away.

"oh shit-"

he crashed, fall to the floor before quickly running for his phone. he accept the call, let out a wheezed air as he press the green button.

"hello?" he calmly said as he rub his elbow.

"hi danny, you busy?"

"no-no not at all. i was just chilling in my motor home. i have interview in 5 though. do you need something?" daniel finally sat down, this time on the floor.

he wait for your response as lay down, face facing the ceiling.

"oh. no, not at all. i just want to congratulate you on p5."

"you watch the race?"

"i always watch your race, maybe not in person, but i never missed your race."

and now daniel turn into 17 years old girl who got called by his crush, giggling and twirling his hairs. "really?" his voice squeak pathetically, so he clear his throat.

"yes, of course! i will always support my best buddy no matter what, even if it from afar."

oh.

yeah, bestfriend.

ouch.

"aww, geez. thanks, brabham. i knew you're in love with me."

"hah! you wish, ricciardo! anyway-"

"yeah?"

"you're doing great sweetheart. do not forget who you are and what you capable of. keep your chin up, bigman."

daniel smile slowly creeping back on his face. he can feel how flushed his face right now.

"thank you, (y/n)."

"you are most welcome, honeybadger. bite 'em okay?"

he turn his body so that he's laying on his side. he used his left arm as a pillow.

"can i bite you instead?"

silence. daniel held his breath, biting his bottom lips as he wait for your answer. and when he about to apologize, daniel heard you clearing your throat.

"alright pump the brake romeo. anyways, i will leave you be now. i'm gonna catch some sleep here. talk to you later, ricciardo."

"alrighty, cheers, brabham."

and the call end just like that. and daniel feel silly. he pull his phone closer to his face, gently hitting his forehead with it.

"you stupid boy..." he said to himself.

but he can't help it, he wished that you're here with him. god how he want to hug you right now. even better, kiss you right now.

"oi, danny! we need to go now!" one of the pr team shouted as he knocked the door.

"yeah! coming! just gimme a sec!"

meanwhile, you on the other side, had to stop and do a manual breathing after the call. you're slapping your face with both your hands as you watch your reflection on the mirror.

"bro pull yourself together! he is your bestfriend!"

"can i bite you instead?"

"AAAAAAAAAH!"

you let out a scream as you recall what he said to you. his deep voice haunted you–making you both dizzy and anxious (in a good way). no, definitely not. you can't! panicking, you get up from your seat as you pacing around the room.

"that bastard."

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#daniel ricciardo #daniel ricciardo imagine #daniel ricciardo x reader #dr3 x reader #f1 fanfic #f1 fic #f1 imagine #f1 x reader #Spotify

[thebigsl33p]

Last Words of A Shooting Star (Part One)

A/N: this is the longest fic I've ever written, and this is only part one. A lot of love has gone into this, I'm super excited to share it! If there any mistakes or stuff please let me know. Uh, Aleksander's kinda OOC bcs it's early days and I'm not traumatising him yet but I am gonna make everyone so miserable in Part Two, I promise, and then he'll become a mardy bastard. Masterlist will be up with the second part, and my main will be updated.

Main Masterlist

people I thought might appreciate being tagged: (If not, sorry!!!):

@augustwithquills @myanmy @noortsshift @archangelslollipop @vaguekayla @budugu @inlovewithfictionalmen444 @weallhaveadestiny @dreamlandcreations @bookloverfilmoholic @lost-tothe-centuries

Warnings: Violence - murder, not too graphic, I don't think. I think that's all, if not please let me know. tbf, canon level I think but maybe I'm delusional

Word Count: 8260

Fic Playlist:

Aleksander has always had a fascination with the night sky. He can’t help it. It’s the darkness, he thinks, it runs in his blood and makes up his flesh, how couldn’t he be absolutely enamoured with it? 

Maybe it’s because it was the only constant. 

So much of his childhood, his years as a teenager and as a young adult were spent travelling, creating new identities, learning new landscapes, new faces, new names, new buildings, all of which would disappear and be replaced every two weeks. And sure, the daytime was nice with the sun and all. But it wasn’t as peaceful, didn’t bring him that same tranquillity as when he would lay down in a field, gaze up and try to name all the constellations, find new shapes and make up new stories. 

Perhaps it all changed due to the incident at the Grisha camp. He had loved sunlight, the dark had scared him. But now, something was different - that air of peace was replaced by a penchant for the tenebrosity that the night brought with it, and a love for the small lights which decorated the dusk. 

No matter where he went, whether he was North, East, South, or West, the night-sky was the same. Always that deep monumental blue speckled with little dots - little lights, little moons, little stories - which people like him called Stars. There was nothing quite like laying in a field, feeling the cool summer breeze or the biting winter gusts and knowing that you were so small, so insignificant compared to everything that burned up in the cosmos. 

He was young then. Young and naive. And it was before her.

Looking back on it, Aleksander should’ve known better. Hadn’t the incident at the Grisha Camp taught him that? Wasn’t it what his mother drilled into him constantly? Trust no one. Never show your abilities. Touch no one. He was, politely put, a fool. 

He was a young man when his life changed, for the better and for the worse. It’s hard to remember exactly, but he believes he was around nineteen, and he remembers it was a hot summer’s evening. The day had been spent working. He couldn’t have known then, but that ‘work’ was the beginnings of The Little Palace. But back then, it was him being - as his mother would put it - foolish, and helping other Grisha travel across Ravka. They were hard to find, and even harder to trust, but gradually, slowly yet surely, he was building a good network.

But during the nights, just for a little while he could let that go. He could lay in the tall grass, head tipped towards the dark vast sky and he could stare up at the stars and pretend he was normal, that shadows weren’t absentmindedly curling around his fingers.

For some reason he struggles to remember memories before that time. They’re blurry and vague, little snippets and days that he’s lost with his extended age. But that particular night, he remembers it vividly - his long hair brushing his cheek in the wind, the hard dirt under his head, the hum of nature and bugs, the bustle of a town not so far away carried on the wind, and the stars. They were the brightest he’d ever seen them, almost restless, buzzing in their eternal placeholders. Something, he could feel, was wrong.

The image of the star falling to Earth is eternally seared into his memory.

It appeared faster than he could comprehend - one second it wasn’t there, and then one second it was. He sits up on his elbows, completely transfixed and stunned by, what he at first presumes, is a shooting star. But gradually, he realises it’s getting bigger, faster… closer.

This burning bright ball of cream yellow light, tumbling through time and space and existence, tumbling towards him. Sitting there in the field, stunned by the sight, he’s sure he can hear it fizzling and crackling, knows it’s completely impossible from this distance, but he’s certain of it. Something tugs in his chest, somewhere between unbridled intrigue and panic, his mother’s words of warning echoing in his head. The intrigue wins, it’s an easy internal battle of common sense and childlike wonder which he thought he had long abandoned. 

Aleksander scrambles to his feet, accidentally getting dirt on his palms and his trousers but he barely notices, head still tilted to the sky and his breath caught in his throat. He can see the trajectory of the star, where it will land in a section of the forest just a bit off from where he’s camping out. His eyes widen, a small smile, and before he knows it he’s stepping towards the tree-line, his black boots thudding on the ground as his footsteps get quicker and quicker. 

To anyone else, the forest might’ve seemed daunting, especially so late at night. But the Shadow Summoner stepped into it without hesitation, the wizened terrain underfoot switching to a softer crunch of twigs and leaves. Once inside, he loses sight of the star, the canopy of the forest shielding it from him, its only indication being the unnatural light it shines through the leaves onto the forest floor, making his journey easier. He dodges twigs, branches, spider-webs, ducking and batting them out of the way quickly, balancing looking at the floor and where he’s going with gazing up at the foliage covered sky for any indication he’s travelling the right way. 

He doesn’t know why he’s following after the star. He doesn’t know how he knows it’s a star. It feels more akin to when you’re in a dream, and you just know something is. Something about it compels him, drags him forward and pushes him on, deeper into the forest.

When the star makes impact, he feels it. In fact, Aleksander’s sure the entire world might’ve felt it, the shake in the trees and the ground, the birds disturbed from their midnight peace quickly fleeing their homes at the rattle of the branches and leaves, the dust-like dirt stirring. And it guides him to the star - the cracking noise it made as it hit the ground unmistakably came from a fraction to his left and so, he followed that way. 

He knows he’s getting closer when the damage becomes more destructive. It’s no longer just disturbed birds and dirt, it’s entire trees tilted at an angle as if God had pushed a finger into the dirt and tilted them, their roots peeking through the soil. But in the middle of the makeshift clearing it is dark, the disturbed dirt floating and drifting through the air and concealing his surroundings. The ground is severely dented and compacted, forming a large dark crater which Aleksander can barely peek over. 

He shuffles from the damaged treeline, his boots creaking on the soil as he tries to catch a glimpse over the edge of the vast crater, but it’s wide and deep, and the edges are loose. He’s careful, his Shadows waiting obediently for his hands to move - for some form of attack or defence. But it never comes. 

Instead, as the clouds of dirt clear, the centre of the crater gradually became more visible. The middle was, overall, smooth but it slopes and nicks here and there. He had expected to see a rock, some large grey bland thing which ultimately would’ve made this all less exciting. But what he sees instead has his eyes widening. There, in the middle of the crater, is a young woman. She’s asleep - passed out maybe - her arms loosely stretched outwards, her hair splayed, messy and white. It’s not even like he can say it’s grey, or silver, or blonde. No, her hair is white, paper white, as white as the dress she’s wearing. It fits her well, skims over her body without constricting too much movement.  He notices she has no shoes on. It dawns on him that this sleeping woman, this girl, is the Star and his brow furrows softly. 

He barely hesitates before he’s sitting on the ledge of the crater and sliding down it, his boots landing on the compacted soil with a thud. In a few strides he’s standing over the sleeping girl, and then in another quick action he crouches down and picks her up, the back of her knees bent over his arm, her waist in his other as he supports her back and her head lolls. He huffs in soft amusement, and walks back the way he came, gently hoisting her up the wall of the crater with as much care as he can, using his shadows when he has a spare hand. It’s hard, and takes a bit of manoeuvring, but he gets there eventually before he pulls himself up. It’s a surprise to him that she hasn’t woken up yet. 

He didn’t feel comfortable leaving her there like that, asleep, vulnerable and barefoot where anyone could’ve found her and not have known what they had stumbled on. He picks her up again, and begins his journey back through the forest, a little slower and with a little more care, mumbling to himself - to her - as they go. She doesn’t stir once, her head propped against his chest, her hair tickling his arm slightly. 

The journey back to where he was camping out is peaceful. It’s quiet, save for his footsteps or the rustle of clothes. Occasionally, the moonlight catches her and she sparkles a bit. Literally sparkles, reflects it like a goddamn mirror. It really is a sight to see and it makes his lips quirk up a bit. 

When they get back to the field, he’s careful. Aleksander lays her down on his mat, adds a few more logs to the fire and covers her with his coat. He thinks of checking her for injuries or damage, but decides that can wait until she wakes up. He doesn’t want to be a creep, and if she’s in pain she’s probably better off telling him when she wakes up, than him finding out for himself. 

And so, he settles himself on the other side of the campfire. He leans his head on his pack - considering the girl next to him has his mat - and tries to get what little sleep will come. 

-

When Y/N wakes, it’s in unfamiliar surroundings. The first thing she’s aware of is the cold. It’s not freezing, but it’s uncomfortable, and she tucks her legs up under her until she’s in a ball, tugging the blanket under her chin. Blanket? No. She shouldn’t have a blanket. It shouldn’t be cold… 

She sits up fast and quick, all lethargy gone from her body as her eyes widen and she takes in her surroundings. She’s in a field. On a mat. And someone’s dark, large coat is over her body. It’s early morning, the sky a pale grey, a low mist settling on her surroundings and a light dew coating the grass. She can feel heat on one side of her, but her head is turned towards the foggy treeline. She tries to recall the last things she remembers… being in the sky, existing, and then a sudden gap which she can’t figure out, and then she wakes up here. 

She’s caught in thought, trying to make sense of her surroundings when a voice says, “You’re awake.” and her head whips around. On the other side of a fresh campfire is a young man, dark eyes, long dark hair, pale skin and dark clothes. He’s roasting a rabbit over the fire - no doubt freshly caught from the knife that sits beside him. His pack sits beside him, his eyes never leave her, even as she expresses soft panic. 

She tries to get up, but her body aches, and he holds out a hand, “Easy. I’m not… I’m not going to hurt you. What’s your name?” he asks softly, waving to her to relax. 

She answers hesitantly, her eyes scanning the boy, “Y/N.” she says eventually, “You?” 

“Leonid.” Aleksander lies, looking between the campfire and her, “Are you hurt anywhere? You took… quite the fall.” 

“Funny.” Y/N says drily, “How long have you been working on that one?”

From the grin that splits his face, he’s clearly secretly pleased with his dad-joke, “Just this morning.” Leonid - Aleksander - turns a bit more serious, “Are you, though? Hurt?” 

She shakes her head, kicking the coat off her and putting it to one side so she can sit up properly, “No, I’m fine.” she mumbles, “Just achy.” 

“Mhm, I suppose that’s to be expected.” he holds the cooked rabbit out to her on a makeshift fork, “Here, eat. You’ll need it.” 

Y/N takes it hesitantly, sniffing it before picking a bit of meat off it with her fingers and eating it, “Thanks… who are you?” 

“Leonid.” He repeats. 

“No, I meant like - where am I? Who are you - like - how did you find me?” 

“Well,” he leans back on his elbows, glances around, “You’re in a field, near Vernost, in Ravka.” he says, “and I am…” his brow furrows softly as he figures out how to phrase this. She’s a Star - would she even understand the difference between Grisha and Otkazats’ya? 

He says it anyway. 

“As I said, my name’s Leonid, I’m…” he’s hesitant - would a star really have prejudices? He hopes not. He takes a foolish chance. “Grisha. You know what that is?” 

She nods, offers him what remains of the Rabbit. He waves it off, indicating that she finishes it. “Why are you helping me?” She asks, tilting her head. 

“My, you’re just full of questions.” he sighs, “I saw you fall. I wasn’t just gonna… leave you.”

“Right.” Y/N’s eyes narrow slightly, “is this your coat? Here you can have it back.” she nudges the coat towards him. 

He gives her an amused look, his eyes moving down, then back up, “I think you’ll need it more than me, zvezda.” he muses, smug almost. 

She glances down at the dress she’s wearing. It’s simple, plain, and he’s right. It’s too thin for the current weather - she’ll be better off as it warms up during the day - but for now, she accepts the coat with a small, amused huff. 

"C'mon, eat that fast," he says, indicating to the rabbit, "We've gotta get going before the sun is too high." He's already tucking away the few things he got out, "I'm gonna walk you to the nearest town, Vernost, leave you somewhere safe, okay?" he glances at her, "Get you some shoes and some more suitable clothes. Until then…”

He reaches into his pack, produces a spare undershirt and hands it to her with an almost apologetic look, "Better than nothing." she nods in thanks.

She takes the shirt with a grateful nod. Once she's finished the rabbit, she stands and hands him the mat, watching as he rolls it up and tucks that away too, and then they're set to travel. She pulls on the undershirt over her dress and while it hangs loosely it provides a bit more comfort, and then she shuffles on his coat. It’s too big for her, completely contrasts her bright eyes and white hair, the sleeves hang loosely and she has to roll them up. 

 He wants to make her as comfortable as possible, and so shows her the map he’s using, highlights the path they’ll be travelling with his finger, showing their way through the woods, worries a bit over her lack of shoes and then they’re walking. 

The path to the town is simple, through the woods, past her crater, and then a little further for about fifteen or twenty minutes. He’s careful to go first, his harsh boots making some attempt at flattening the ground for her barefoot condition. Aleksander considers picking her up - no, too weird for someone he’s just met - and she doesn’t seem to be in any pain. 

They keep walking. The sun rises higher, the morning beginning just as they make their way into Vernost. It’s a small town, but a good town. The hustle and bustle of people, farmers, artisans, builders and blacksmiths is accompanied by the gentle murmur of the small local market, travellers and locals who move between stalls and shops, horses’ hooves on the cobblestone, the crowd parting for an occasional rickety wooden carriage.

He glances over to her. The look of awe on her face is somewhere between sad and endearing. She’s struck completely by this tiny town, the smallest, simplest form of inhabitance, and yet it brings nothing but awe and wonder to her gaze. There’s a sense of yearning in the way her eyes run over everything as they walk, as if she’s desperate to take it all in, to retain it, keep it held to her chest - to make life hers. To have all of it - to know the joys and the sorrows like the back of her hand. Aleksander could practically see the light come to life behind her eyes, as if she’d finally woken up to something wonderful. 

He smiles, somewhere between amusement and appreciation, and places a hand on her shoulder to steer her through the crowds which are slowly getting busier, “Easy tiger.” he says and she laughs sheepishly. 

“It’s just all so…” she doesn’t know how to describe it, the words to explain the way her heart is racing all jam up in her throat. She has a heart. The rushing of blood, just the wind against her skin, it’s all she ever wanted to feel, and now that she can feel it, now she’s no longer confined to the night sky, she’s in complete and utter astonishment, raptured by everything around her. 

“Kinda overwhelming?” He suggests, raising an eyebrow as they walk. He’s keeping an eye out for a Cobbler - or anywhere that sells shoes, really. Again, he casts his eyes down to her bare feet and feels guilt and concern rise in him, that the streets of Vernost, nor the woods are exactly clean, and they must be hurting by now.

But one glance at her face and he can tell she barely feels it. It’s just dirt - it can be washed off. However, it doesn’t ease the guilt. 

-

The first time she ‘shines’, is over a piece of cake. 

They’d been travelling together for a few weeks now. Aleksander was a fool to think he could leave her alone in Vernost, his worries, concerns and guilt over the Star getting the better of him. They stayed for a few days there, giving her a general introduction to the workings of human life in a contained and somewhat non-threatening environment. 

In their few brief days in Vernost she tries a range of food, stews, desserts. He explains money, the current politics of the country over a bowl of stew from the Inn they were staying at, explains the prejudices and segregation of Grisha, the violence. They get her clothing, a shirt, an overvest, trousers and boots, and a small bag to carry her non-existent belongings. She folds her dress into it for the first few days - that silky silver material which catches in the moonlight - and it fits surprisingly well, tucks into the corner of the satchel. He explains to her how to read the map, all the different little symbols. In some ways, she’s like a child. Her lack of general knowledge about the world is understandable, but she catches on fast, much faster than anyone else could’ve. 

Well, they’d been travelling together for a few weeks, developing a relationship that might even be called friendship. Aleksander had to make a few adjustments to the way he travelled - he was still telling Y/N his name was Leonid - occasionally they travelled at night. Honestly, it made more sense, he felt more comfortable in the darkness, and she had more energy. But it also made them bigger targets for suspicion, people travelling at night were often suspected of Grisha related activity… which is exactly what he was doing. She was just along for the ride, and the last thing he wanted was for her to get dragged into his problems and potentially harmed. Conflicting morals, he knows. 

They’d passed through a few villages on their travels, small places which minded their own business and were good for occasional stock ups on food, water, supplies. 

He doesn’t know why he bought the slice of cake. Aleksander had decided it was good for her to develop her own independence, and so she had gone to make her own way around this small town they’d stopped in. Meanwhile, he perused the sparse shops for anything of use. 

The slices of cake were sitting in the shop window, all of them uniform in their cream decoration and the small slices of strawberries which sat inside and on top of the layers of sponge, and all of them placed delicately on little porcelain dishes. He enters the shop without thinking, purchases a slice to take away, lets the person wrap it away in a small tissue and carefully takes it, slipping it into a safe part of his own bag. He’s careful for the rest of the day in the way he moves - making sure not to squash or compromise the baked good. He can’t quite wrap his mind - nor his heart - around why he’s done it. Why did he suddenly feel the urge to buy her a slice of cake of all things. But he’s glad he did. Aleksander hopes she’ll like it. 

He presents it to her over their campfire for the evening. It’s a small thing made of dried grass and twigs or any larger pieces of wood they could find but it provides light and heat and that’s enough. They’re sitting either side of it, across from one another, having just eaten bread and cheese for dinner. Twilight is setting in the sky, and he can see it on her - the way her eyes are slightly brighter, her laugh slightly more mellow as they chat over their food. 

He reaches into his bag by his side, clears his throat and says, “I got you something.”

Y/N’s brow furrows softly, and she tilts her head as he continues, “I just… it’s small, but I thought you might like it.” and he produces a square shaped thing, slanted, and wrapped in tissue, still preserved, offering it to her in the palm of his hand over the campfire. 

She takes it gently, “What is it?” as she delicately peels back the tissue. The cake is… well, cake. The sponge is a soft pale yellow, the cream delicately placed and the strawberries are slightly softer than they should be, but won’t make too much of a difference. She raises it to her nose and hesitantly sniffs it, which gets a chuckle out of him. 

“It’s cake.” he answers, “Go on, try it.” Aleksander encourages her with a wave of his hand. 

She raises her eyebrows and lifts the cake to her mouth, taking a small bite. Her eyes instantly light up, and he laughs at her reaction as she mumbles, “Oh, Saints, this is really good..” Around a  mouthful of cake. 

She eats a bit more, and then holds it out to him, “Want some?” 

And that’s when he sees it. She’s shining. Literally glowing. Radiating light, her very skin and hair giving it off like it’s nothing. His breath hitches as she lights up the field. It’s not particularly bright, but it’s strong and it makes itself known. She’s like a mellow night light, and it only causes his smile to widen, “You’re um…”  he gestures at her - at her glowing. 

Her brow scrunches up - it’s cute - and she laughs sheepishly, “Shining?” 

“Yeah. That.” he grins, leaning back on his palms. 

She huffs, a huff of mock exasperation, “I’m sorry - I can’t… it’s not something I can really control. It just happens, y’know. Like…” She averts her eyes to the flames of the small campfire, “If I’m happy. I shine - it’s what stars do best.” They both laugh a little. 

“Well, it suits you.” Aleksander says gently - his voice much softer than he meant it to be, or than he’s comfortable with. When did he get so… compassionate? He internally grimaces, but for some reason he feels an odd sense of endearment to this girl. 

“Yeah,” She responds with a wry grin, “I should hope so. I am a star, after all.” 

And again, they both laugh. 

-

Aleksander didn’t intend to keep her with him for so long. He didn’t intend to introduce her to his friends - to his connections, to the people across the country who help him with his work. He didn’t intend to get her involved. But they’ve been travelling together for three months and in that time, he’s discovered a wide array of things. 

The first is that she’s good with a sword. Perhaps good is an understatement. She has a natural balance about her, maybe it’s her celestial nature, but watching her with a sword is like watching art. The handle sits in her palm with an easy weight, she swings it with an air of freedom and lax, yet with complete control. The blade is, undoubtedly, hers. 

They had discovered her penchant for swords in a rather unfortunate situation. They had been a touch careless. He was feeling more secure with someone else travelling at his side. And so, had paid less attention to his surroundings. If there was one con of her having her around, it was that she was a touch of a distraction. 

They had passed through a village. They stayed to briefly eat lunch sitting in the town square, and then had gone to pass on just as quick as they came. It shouldn’t have drawn attention. But it did. 

They hadn’t noticed the group of men watching them, looks of disdain on their features as they eyed up the two of them, mumbling to one another. They’d managed to avoid trouble so far, steering clear of Druskelle and negative situations, but on that day, something had given them away as both travellers and Grisha. It was hard to say what - perhaps it was the way they murmured and laughed quietly with one another, maybe the tell-tale way his hands moved. Perhaps he’d been careless and a slip of shadow had been noticed. They couldn’t say for certain. But these men, standing and sneering, they knew.

Either way, Y/N and Aleksander were followed back to where they were camping out by the night. It was just a clearing off the main path they were following, and they had been very comfortably sitting, eating, laughing as they did each and every evening, lit by firelight and accompanied by the low hum of bugs and the weather slowly turning cold. She noticed the figures first.

They seemed to come out of nowhere, far enough away that she could tap his shoulder with a quiet, “Leonid. There’s people.” 

His brow furrowed softly, and he turned over his shoulder in the direction she was looking at. Three men, two shorter, one that was a bit taller and lagged behind - all three variously armed. One man - short, dirty blonde hair and a face marred by smudges of dirt - carried a small dagger. The second, slightly taller with a slightly more muscular frame, had dark hair that was greying at the roots, a knife, and a snarl. The third and final man, the tallest of the lot was passive, but his eyes glinted in the firelight with nothing malevolence, and in his goliath hand was a sword. 

The man with the dark hair speaks first, accented and gruff, his eyes pinned to Aleksander, “Grisha, aren’t you?” he asks the question in a way that betrays he already knows the answer. 

Aleksander doesn’t answer. He’s careful. Delicate. She’s sitting behind him, watching the interaction, hesitant to move. He needs to think this through in a way that puts Y/N out of harm's way. His eyes never leave the men. 

There’s a movement out of the corner of his eye - the second man, wielding his dagger up quickly, his movements fueled by disgust. Aleksander’s quicker, raising his hand with two fingers pointed up, creating a wall of shadow which the dagger clashes against, and in that moment he’s scrambled up to his feet, grabbing Y/N by the arm and pulling her up with him. He runs. 

He’s not used to running. He’s used to fighting. But at the moment he’s responsible for two people’s safety, and so he pushes forward, yelling at her to go. He expected the men to follow. He didn’t expect the largest to go after her, the three men separating into groups of one and two. The two come after him, dagger and knife, and he has little time to worry about Y/N before they’re gaining, 

Aleksander’s efficient, his hands move fast to bring forth his shadows, forming sharp points which pierce the chests of the two men with harsh crunches, their weapons dropping into the grass as their bodies go limp, blood drooling from their mouths as the light leaves their eyes. 

He breathes a sigh of relief, but then he’s alert again at the sound of someone crying out from behind him. His head whips around, and he sees Y/N, and the largest man. He’s backing her up against the tree line, she’s almost frozen in fear when she trips over her own feet and onto her back. Her eyes widen, the man leers over her, sword readied and in a brief moment of fear and desperation she rears her legs and kicks his knees. 

The man grunts, hisses in pain as the sword drops from his hand so he can clutch at where she kicked him. Amateur. And in the next instant she’s lunged across the ground for the sword, where he dropped it, scrambling for it. She’s still on the floor, and she turns onto her back as the man’s attention is brought to her again, large hands reaching to cause her harm. 

The sound of the sword cutting into the man is almost deafening. She does it without thinking, pure survival instinct as she cuts the man's stomach, her hands firm on the handle as blood coats them both, her breathing heavy as she pulls the sword out and the man falls back, dying slowly. 

She’s frozen, and Aleksander’s eyes are almost as wide as hers. He takes a few loose footsteps towards her, a few more which are a bit firmer before he’s by her side, kneeling beside her and cleaning the blood off her cheeks with his sleeve, gently taking the sword from her iron grip and laying it beside her. 

“Are you okay?” He asks quietly, and it feels stupid. She’s covered in blood, shaking, tears in her eyes and the only thing he can think to ask is ‘are you okay’? Saints, he’s an idiot. 

He moves on, still wiping the blood off her as well as he can as she nods her head shakily, “It’s alright. You’re alright.” He says quietly. He remembers the first time he killed someone - the guilt, the fear, the horror at yourself. He frowns softly, as the thin shine of tears comes to her eyes and she looks away. 

Without thinking about it much more, he picks her up, scooping her into his arms, hooking the back of her knees over his arm as she turns and curls into his chest, her crying quiet and barely audible as he carries her back to their camp. 

-

After that, things are different. They’re closer, in a way.

Y/N keeps the sword, keeps it tucked by her side, takes care of the metal and the handle. She’s good with it, he knows for a fact, and he feels more comfortable knowing she has a means of handling herself. The emotional toll of the murder hit her hard. Perhaps, she thinks, she wasn’t meant to feel emotions like this. Her very existence is in conflict. She’s not meant to be able to feel this way, she’s meant to be a star for Saint’s sake! 

But there is something so very human in the guilt she carried in the days after the attack. She was quiet, much quieter than she usually was. At first, she was hesitant to carry the sword. So, instead he carried it for her, catching her eyes flickering towards it occasionally, the way it swung by his hip and the metal caught in the sun. 

One evening as they walked, she offered to take it instead. 

“Do you want me to take that?” she had said, a quiet, unspoken I think I’m okay now. 

“Are you sure?” he asked, “It’s not heavy, I’m okay to carry it for as long as-” 

“No, I’m sure.” She nodded, her look determined and firm, “My safety shouldn’t be your responsibility alone.” She explained, “We should be responsible for one another if we’re going to be travelling together. And I can’t do that if I’m unarmed.” 

He nodded in understanding, and softly unhooked the sword and the holder, and offered the handle to her. She took it, measuring the weight in her palm, before she put the holder on herself and slipped the sword into it. She took a breath. 

He spoke first, “I should tell you something, Y/N. Y’know, if we’re going to be stuck together for a while, I don’t want to keep you in the dark.” he said. 

She didn’t respond, simply nodded and waited for him to say what he had to say. 

“My name isn’t Leonid, I lied. I’ve spent most of my life having to conceal who I am, what I am, and so I hope you can understand and forgive my deception.” He paused, breathing relief into the night air, “My name is Aleksander.” 

“Aleksander?” She echoes, and a small, intimate smile finds her features, “Well, it’s a pleasure to meet you, Aleksander.” She says, in that half-teasing tone he’s become so accustomed with.

He rolls his eyes but can’t fight back the grin, “You’re an ass, do you know that?” 

“Ah, you may have mentioned it once or twice.” She shrugs, unable to wipe off that teasing smile from her features. 

He huffs in mock exasperation before his tone turns softer. He’s found he has a habit of doing that. Something about her makes him better, gentler. He almost feels human around her, “I mean it Y/N,” he says quietly, “I’m sorry I lied to you, especially for so long.” 

“It’s fine,” she says with a small smile, nudging his shoulder, “You’re forgiven, if that eases your conscience.” She’s still slightly teasing, but her tone is mostly compassionate. Endearing, even. 

“Thank you,” he says, grinning as he nudges her back, “Saints, you’re insufferable.” 

She gasps, dramatically feigning offence. For a star, she’s caught onto the culture of sarcasm and drama rather well, and he laughs at her display, wrapping an arm around her shoulder as they walk. It feels right. 

“How are you finding it?” He asks, as they walk, “y’know, being human? Is it weird?” He checks in on her this way every now and then to make sure she’s not overwhelmed. But this is the first time she answers differently. 

“...As a star…” She sighed softly, weighing up her words, “You’re constantly watching. You’re up there, watching all these little people have adventures and lives and romance, and it’s… it’s yearning. You want those things too, y’know? You want to be flesh and bone as well, to feel emotion. To cry, and be happy, and be angry, and to know what love feels like. You want adventure, the big things in life like… meeting someone. Or having a family. Or getting an education. Making a difference.” She laughed softly, “But you also want the little things - like cake, for example. And music, and friendship, and to share meals with people you care about.” 

She glanced at him, and then back to the path, “I’m glad you found me. I don’t think anyone else would’ve done such a good job at making me feel welcome in a world that isn’t strictly mine.” 

Her words were soft, quiet, and sincere. And it made Aleksander’s heart stutter in his chest, but he kept his composure and managed, “I’m glad I found you too.” 

-

Aleksander takes her to a place he calls ‘the sanctuary’. 

He explains it to her on the way there - a building, a place, where Grisha can support, aid and train other Grisha. 

It’s been months since they first met, and by now the warm comfort of the summer is fading, replaced by cold golden sunlight and browned leaves, wetter grounds and harsher gales. And so, he takes her there.

The sanctuary is a medium-sized, pale stone structure, hidden away in the middle of nowhere, concealed by thick woods and trees. It’s squat, but wide, the front of it gives away nothing but a set of rounded wooden doors. He takes her hand - she’s not even sure he realises that he’s done it - and guides her with him to the front. Her sword swings at her side as she follows, standing beside him as he raps his knuckles on the wooden door a few times. 

The door opens a crack, she can’t see who’s on the other side, but Aleksander’s gaze meets theirs and they open it. On the other side is a man, short brown hair and green eyes. He’s rather skinny, but his strength is held in his eyes. He lets Aleksander in without issue, nodding his head softly. Their hands are still linked together and so, she goes to follow. 

But the brown haired man stops her, a hand coming to her chest to halt her, his eyes narrowed and dark, glancing back at Aleksander. He answers, “She’s with me, Andrei.” 

“Grisha?” The man interrogates. 

Aleksander huffs, “No, Andrei. But she’s been helping me for the past five months, let her through.” 

Andrei’s eyes narrow in suspicion, and he glances at Aleksander finally before letting his hand drop and allowing her entrance. She nods her head softly, and follows after Aleksander. Y/N feels him squeeze her hand, a quiet apology. She squeezes back as he guides her deeper into the sanctuary. They pass rooms, beds, people who nod at him as they pass and whose eyebrows furrow when they see her trailing after him, and her stark white hair. 

Inside, the sanctuary was busy. It was filled with the hum of people working, all in various clothing - some injured, some healing, some cooking, some reading, teaching, training - it was almost a wonderful study in the kindness of human nature and community that had her eyes widening. 

“Are you alright, Zvezda?” he asked softly, turning back to her over his shoulder, “Are you overwhelmed? We can…” 

“No, it’s… it’s wonderful.” She said quietly, her wide eyes meeting his, “I mean- it’s astounding. I’m good.” she nodded, indicating for him to keep going, “It’s just… in all our time travelling, I’ve never seen anything like this.” 

He laughed softly, pulling her closer by her hand, “I guess,” he grinned, “I’m proud of this place. I’m glad you can see it like that.” 

They spend at least three weeks at the Sanctuary. 

Aleksander takes his time to introduce Y/N to those around her. He shows her around to all the Healers, the Heartrenders, the Inferni, the Squalors, Tidemakers - technically, he shows her off to everyone. But no one knows, really, who - or what - she is. He doesn’t say. People press and ask and inquire, “Oh, what’s her Grisha order?” “Grisha, are you?” And everytime, one of them answers, “Oh, uh, No.” and refuse to elaborate further. 

It has the entire building utterly perplexed as to who this strange white haired girl is, and why she has the Shadow Summoner wrapped around her little finger. Not that The Star or The Shadow Summoner can see it, no, they’re completely oblivious. They don’t see how they’re quiet giggles, teasing, conversations might be perceived as intimate. Nor how the amount of time they spend together might be seen as suspicious.

But when you’ve spent everyday with a person for just over five months, all day, everyday, it’s very hard to separate yourself from the comfort they bring.

The confession comes late at night. 

Now that they’re in a place like the Sanctuary, they have their own rooms. They’re only small, and they’re a short walk away from one another, and it gives them each a privacy they haven’t experienced for a few months. For the first week - it’s nice. Having their own beds, their own time, being able to spend some of it alone with their thoughts. 

He notices it first. That he’s restless. It’s late at night, most of the building is asleep save for those on night watch, and he can barely close his eyes without feeling disturbed. He feels the need to do something - anything - and so, he gets out of bed, slipping back on his boots at the end of his bed and deciding he’s going to go for a walk. Maybe it’ll help clear his mind. 

Aleksander’s almost embarrassed. He can’t… he can’t stop thinking of her. He’s annoyed at himself for it, for letting him get that close, for letting him be so vulnerable to someone who wasn’t even human, who had a child’s grasp on the world… 

No, that was being unfair. He calms himself as he steps out of his room. He knows he’s just agitated, tired, a little giddy, and he takes a deep breath as he starts off down the corridor, careful not to let his boots thud too heavily. He doesn’t know where he’s going, he decides he’s just going to walk until he comes across something distracting or gets tired. 

His feet take him to her room. 

It’s the same size as his, and from the crack in the door he can tell she’s still awake, can hear a slight shuffling inside, candle light flickering on the floor. He realises now, why he’s there. What he’s come to do. And his heart lurches in his chest, but he understands that it’s now or hold his tongue for another few months and he doesn’t want to do that. 

Aleksander wants her to know about the Y/N shaped cavern she’s carved into his life. He wants her to know about how all those nights spent travelling in fields were not something he was willing to give up so easily - that when spring came he hoped to do it all again. With her. That he thinks of her endlessly. That when he wakes he hopes she’s still sleeping beside him, just a campfire away. And he wants her closer. He wants her. It’s as simple as that, that he wants to see her smile at him, and laugh - he doesn’t care if it’s at him or with him - Saints, he just wants her happy. 

The revelation comes to him, standing so close to her yet so far, on her bedroom doorstep. He takes a breath, steels himself to the sound of her soft humming from the other side of the door, and then raises his fist and knocks three times. 

By the first knock, the humming stops. By the second, she’s walking over to the door, he can hear her footsteps. And by the third, the handle is turning. The door opens and he lowers his hand. She’s standing on the other side. Of course it was her, he knew it was her. It doesn’t stop his heart from thudding against his ribs, nor his breath hitching quietly. 

The light from the candle makes her seem fully celestial, casting a golden hue across her features, and darkening half her face to accentuate them. It bounces off her silver hair, catching in the strands like a contained forest fire. 

“Aleksander?” Y/N greets softly, a small amused smile as she tilts her head in soft confusion, her brow furrowing. 

“Zvezda,” He greets softly, his eyes catching in the candle, so dark you can barely separate the pupil from the iris, “Can’t sleep?”

She shakes her head with a small laugh, beckoning him in with her hand, “Always got more energy during the night,” she sighs, “And it’s taking some getting used to, not sleeping in a field, not waking up…” next to you. 

But she doesn’t need to finish the sentence, he simply hums in agreement and shuts the door behind him, leaning on it, “I know, it’s a big adjustment.” He runs a hand through his long dark hair, “How are you finding the Sanctuary?” 

“It’s nice,” she says softly, briefly fixing her words in a slight hurry, “Sorry, that sounded- it’s lovely. The people are kind, the community is wonderful, food’s much better than bread and cheese and meats,” She grins, “No offence.”

He laughs, his nose wrinkling with the action, “None taken. In fact, I completely agree.” 

She sits on her bed as they talk, tucking her legs underneath her, “Can’t sleep either?” She probes.  

Aleksander shakes his head as well, “No, feeling restless. Same reasons as you.” He admits, feeling a bit more at ease with the slight indication that the comfort they feel around one another may be mutual, “I guess,” he sighs, bracing himself to admit it, “We spent so long together. A week was fine - but it’s weird. I keep on… waking up and expecting to see you.” 

“I know,” she agreed quietly with a small laugh, her head bent down to her hands in her lap, “it’s strange, isn’t it? I feel weird not… walking with you, or doing something, seeing a new town or whatnot. And I have this feeling.” She frowned softly to herself.

He tilts his head, folds his arms, “What feeling, Zvezda?” He asks, his brow furrowing gently. 

“I… I don’t know.” she said, her eyes narrowing as she looked not quite at him - but just over his shoulder - “It’s like… this…tightness.” her hand came to her chest, her nose scrunching softly, “Here. Like… nausea. But not quite - I’m not going to be sick. And I can feel my heart. And it… it feels like wanting. But stronger?” 

His eyes widened a fraction, “And uh, when do you feel it?” 

She tilted her head, her eyes zeroing in on him in confusion and uncertainty, “When…” when I think about you. “Oh.” She said quietly, “Is that what that is?” her hand gently rubbed her chest, clearly where she felt it strongest, a sheepish laugh as she turned her eyes to the candle, anywhere but him, “They don’t describe it like this in the books.” 

He breathed a sigh of relief as he realised that he wouldn’t have to explain to her that what she was feeling was, at least, a crush. If not more. Aleksander laughed softly, “No, no they do not.” 

Y/N laughed too, mildly embarrassed and still somewhat avoiding looking at him, her hands fidgeting, “Look, I’m sorry-” 

“Don’t be.” he cut her off, “Don’t be, please don’t be, you’ve done nothing wrong.” He cleared his throat and took a sharp breath, standing up from leaning on the door, “It’s… it’s  mutual, Y/N.” and he took a hesitant step towards her, “Zvezda.” He said the nickname to get her attention. 

It worked, her head turning slightly, and he continued, “Please don’t ever apologise for having feelings.” He said, his tone so much softer than he was comfortable with, “You’re a human now.” he laughed a little, crouching down in front of her as she sat on the bed, “It’s your job now. To feel. To make the most of life. So,” he said with a playful shrug, “we both have… crushes on one another.” It felt childish to say ‘crushes’ but he couldn’t think of a better word. 

“I mean…” he sighed softly, “That’s kind of… why I came here.” He confessed. 

“Really?” she asked quietly, watching him intently as he spoke. 

“Really.” he echoed, standing up. She patted the bed beside her for him to sit, and he gratefully took it, glad she was taking this all so well and she wasn’t clamming up about their feelings for one another, “Look, Y/N, Zvezda. You’ve changed my life,” he said with a small laugh of disbelief, “I mean… you’re a Star, for Saint’s sake. You are, by nature, brilliant. And you’ve been nothing short of that in the months we’ve been travelling. Even if your humour is appalling.” He softly teased, earning a playful grumble of, “It is not.” from her. 

“It is!” he insisted with a teasing grin, “You laugh at all my bad jokes, dear.” 

“Yeah well,” her initial embarrassment was beginning to fade as they engaged in their usual banter, “I think that says more about you for making the bad jokes.” to which he scoffed, and she dispersed into laughter, the two of them leaning back on the single bed. 

The laughter lasted a moment longer before fading out with a soft, content sigh. He grinned at her from where he was, a hand reaching forward for hers as he softly, half-teasingly, murmured, “You’re doing it again.” 

“Doing what?” “Shining, Zvezda.” 

“What can I say?” she laughed quietly, her head finding his shoulder, “I’m happy.”

A/N: I cannot wait to go to bed. And also to start part two. Goodnight!! <;3

#Last Words of A Shooting Star AU #Stardust AU #the darkling X reader #Shadow And bone X reader #aleksander morozova x reader #aleksander x reader #shadow and bone fanfic #general kirigan x reader #kirigan x reader #stardust au #thebigsl33p

[sensitiveheartless]

20 questions for fic writers!

Tagged by @feralrookie! :D Thank you for the tag!!

1. How many works do you have on ao3?

10! (technically, kinda)

2. What's your total ao3 word count?

379,547

3. What fandoms do you write for?

Just Bungou Stray Dogs! It's also the first fandom I've written for, actually. :D

4. What are your top 5 fics by kudos?

This is how it feels to take a fall (Dazai goes feral, time shenanigans)

Plate :( (Dazai breaks a plate, experiences emotions)

Dazai and the Moving Detective Agency (Howl's Moving Castle AU)

Chuunyaa's Pawsitively Catastrophic Day (Chuuya is turned into a cat, it's short and pretty much just shenanigans)

Wish in one hand (First fic I wrote, and the first one I posted — Dazai has emotions about handholding)

5. Do you respond to comments? Why or why not?

I try to, but I've been absolutely terrible at it lately — whenever I'm particularly stressed I start worrying that the negative emotions are going to leak through into what I'm writing and make my tone sound weird, so then I end up turtling in on myself and not saying anything at all, no matter how much I want to engage with people. It's a bad habit, and I want to work on it, so I'm gonna try to catch up on comments! (I treasure every single one of the ones I receive, so for anyone who has left a comment and hasn't gotten a response from me yet, thank you and I am very sorry about my inability to form words in a timely manner skdjfksd)

6. What is the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

Probably An Unsent Letter, since it's pretty much just a short snippet of Dazai being sad while he's leaving the mafia. And even with that one, I have in my head that skk still get together after the four years apart, I just didn't write it. I am dreadful with sad endings — although the ending to "This is how it feels to take a fall" is a little bittersweet, perhaps.

7. What's the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?

Hmm...I'm gonna say Dazai and the Moving Detective Agency, because it's the one with the longest buildup, so I think it has the most catharsis, at least for me! But I tend to give all of my fics happy endings because, as established, I am a wimp when it comes to hardcore angst. I will say that Zut Alors I Have Missed One is probably a contender for happiest as well, just because that fic had no angst whatsoever and was just Unhinged

8. Do you get hate on fic?

Nope! Everyone's been lovely! I have gotten some for my art, but honestly it was pretty toothless and I couldn't take it seriously lol

9. Do you write smut?

...Yeh. :0 There was an attempt, at least — one fic, and I made it anonymous (so on the extreme off-chance that anyone notices a discrepancy between my total ao3 wordcount listed here and the summed up wordcounts of the fics viewable on my profile, that's why!) It's also another fic I need to finish, I hit my writing roadblock with that one at the same time as all my others, and it's almost doneeee I just need my brain to cooperate >:|

10. Do you write crossovers?

Not any proper crossovers, only things like the Howl AU and the Little Mermaid AU, where I took the settings/plots and put in BSD characters.

11. Have you ever had a fic stolen?

Not that I know of!

12. Have you ever had a fic translated?

...Possibly? I'm not actually sure, I've given a couple people permission, but I'm not sure if anything came of that, I haven't heard one way or another :0 I do have a tendency to use puns, which I realize might make things difficult for translations

13. Have you ever co-written a fic before?

No, not so far — and given how tempestuous my schedule has been, it'll probably be a while before I attempt anything like that! Sounds fun, though

14. What's your all-time favorite ship?

...I mean, it's gotta be soukoku, because for all that I've enjoyed a lot of fictional pairings before (for example, Howl and Sophie specifically from the HMC books, Beatrice and Benedick from Much Ado About Nothing — I like bickering duos, what do you know — Peter Wimsey and Harriet Vane, currently falling down the Hualian rabbithole because I'm reading Heaven Official's Blessing with my friend, and there's lots of other ones), for as much as I like all those, I haven't really had much of an urge to write anything for them.

So, purely in terms of me wanting to mess around with two characters and write them over and over and over again, it's really only skk! They hit the exact right combination of braincells, I guess lololol

15. What's a WIP you want to finish but probably won't?

Hmmm...honestly, most of my WIPs I still intend to finish at some point or another — first priority being the ones I've already started posting, of course! Although...just due to time constraints, I might not get around to writing the thief!Chuuya/detective!Dazai one I was planning a while back. (and I mean a WHILE lol) I didn't write very much of it, and honestly most of the reason I wanted to write it was for comedy — so maybe I'll turn it into a short comic series instead, because I do think some of the bits were funny :0

16. What are your writing strengths?

That's a hard one; I tend to look more at the ways I want to improve my writing then at what I like about it, and I nitpick just about everything I create, art and writing alike. But if I had to pick something, I would probably say dialogue? That tends to be what I write easiest, at least. I still want to get better at that too, though.

17. What are your writing weaknesses?

Descriptions and action scenes. I've been making myself write them more, so I think I'm slowly improving (the Howl AU has been great for that! It pushed me to write all sorts of scenes I wouldn't have normally :D ), but those two things remain what I get bogged down by the most.

18. Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language in fic?

Depends on the circumstances, I think? I'd include translations if I did. I do tend to include Japanese honorifics when I'm writing in the canon universe, because there's not really english equivalents and it feels like I'm leaving something out when I just do their names straight — although I did take them out when I was doing the Howl AU and the Little Mermaid AU, just as a setting thing.

19. First fandom you wrote for?

Bungou Stray Dogs — like I mentioned in the ship section, this is the first fandom where I've really felt the urge. Although I did write things when I was little that very blatantly yoinked in various creatures and concepts from the things I was reading and watching, which resulted in stories with pirates and weeping angels and Ringwraiths all running around in the same place. But I didn't usually bother with bringing in actual characters from those pieces of media, or even using the settings, I just made ocs and had them run around in my own made up world.

20. Favorite fic you've written?

I like all of them for different reasons, but I think my favorite overall has to be Dazai and the Moving Detective Agency. It's the longest thing I've ever written, and when I started out I wasn't sure I'd be able to do it — so the fact that it's most of the way done (currently chipping away at the epilogue, it is getting to be a LOT of words) makes me really happy. And it's just been so much fun! Writing characters I hadn't before, piecing the world together, working out the magic system, writing Dazai being a mess and Chuuya being cool, it's all been a blast. And I seriously need to finish the epilogue, because the followups are living in my brain and they demand to be freed aksdfjksdjfk

But yeah! I'm not sure how many writers I know on here have already been tagged, so I'll just go open tags on this one! :D If any of y'all write and feel like doing this, then go for it!

#tag game #senhart rambles #senhart's writing #long post

[alemonyoyo]

No Country for Young Humans - Chapter 8.5

I am officially back at school, attending my final year of high school! I will be busy, chapters will come out very infrequently!

To tide you over, since I am exhausted, have this short little bit of actual PLOT!!! (IK not just North Star fluff, dw, that will come soon).

Also, I'm drifting a little from the UTY fandom (yeah, uh oh) but I definitely DON'T wanna abandon this fic!

Worse comes to worse, I'll finish it swiftly, and do my best to still make that entertaining. This is the longest fic I think I've ever wrote, most of my other stuff is oneshots!

Sorry about all that, hopefully you can enjoy this very short snippet of what's to come (maybe heh).

Missed the previous chapters? Check out the Masterlist!

Words: 552

Tags: GN Reader, Jealousy, Plot?

Summary: We shift to a new perspective as things unfold behind the scene.

Chapter 8.5 - A New Perspective:

There was a piercing sound in the air. It was faint, but persistent. Her ears, sharp as a dagger, picked up its sound all too well. As she fumbled with the equipment splayed out on the desk beneath her, she found her patience waning thin, the sound piercing into her skull, stabbing like the thick spears of the Royal Guard.

How could she let it get this far? How could she have been so stupid? She should have killed them right then and there when they walked into the Wild East, yet the look on his face; it healed all of her wounds, though only for a moment. She entertained this idea only to keep him happy, but it had been too long now to turn back.

Ceroba walked over to the vials of serum, each a pungent blue in colour, painfully standing out amongst the backdrop of muted greys. She had to do this. For Kanako. It was the only way to keep her alive.

Going through with this though, she thought, would ruin everything for him.

She had never felt so happy for him, the moment they admitted their feelings for him. That flustered look on their face, all bashful yet trusting in her company. They *trusted* her. Star trusted her. And she was going to throw that all away.

Finally, Starlo was going to feel the love she had always wanted him to experience, taken away from the years of torment she knew she put him through. She was happy then, and he was miserable. Now it was like night and day as she wallowed in a sea of misery. But he would be happy. He would finally be happy.

Ceroba clenched her fists tightly, walking over to the large, old TV. No- She can’t let this sway her. Surely Star would be happier knowing her child was safe and out of harm's way. Surely Star would be happier knowing she was happy? Surely she meant more to him? She pressed the small round button on the TV, knowing the tape was already loaded in the slot when she had last watched it. A sobering reminder of why she had to do this.

It wasn’t just for Kanako. It wasn’t just for Chujin. But for the fate of the world.

Well, that is what she told herself as she waited for the video to play, though she was only met with static. Ceroba smacked a pawed hand on the TV, growing impatient and frustrated as she sobbed out. This was too much! Too hard of a choice! Why was this her choice to make? Why couldn’t she have both? Why did they have to be human?

She ceased her abuse of the TV, instead pressing the eject button, waiting for the tape to shift out of the slot. She waited, the still ringing sound of the machines around her whirring in an annoying fashion. She heard the mechanics in the TV shift, the slot opening and pushing out the thick, heavy air. There was no tape, nothing at all.

She felt the hair on the back of her neck stand on end, reaching panicked hands into the slot, trying to slip down into the small slit. Empty.

Someone had taken Chujins tape which could only mean-

Someone knew.

***

“母？”

#undertale #uty #undertale yellow #uty north star #uty starlo #north star uty #starlo uty #starlo #north star #undertale yellow north star #undertale yellow starlo #starlo undertale yellow #north star undertale yellow #fanfiction #north star x reader #starlo x reader #north star uty x reader #starlo uty x reader #no country for young humans

[wikiangela]

Weekend WIP Game

tagged by @jesuisici33 <3

Rules: List your WIPs below (if you only write one fic at a time, feel free to include future WIPs/ideas!) then answer the following questions. Then, tag as many people as you have WIPs (or more)

1. WIP List:

alive shannon

sick eddie

buddie coffee shop

new buddie chris' school

roommates

bi eddie

buddie death cast fic

cheating fic

untitled natalia fic

buddie 2x01

5+1 nicknames

coffee buddie

2. Which of your WIPs is currently the longest?

alive shannon with 20k words so far

3. Which WIP do you expect will end up the longest?

alive shannon, since it's kinda a canon rewrite and I still haven't decided to which point it's gonna go, we'll see when it'll feel right to end it haha

4. Which WIP is your favourite to write/the most enjoyable to write? Why?

once again, alive shannon haha - it's just so fun to explore what all those dynamics could've been, and giving Eddie and Shannon some closure, and I love exploring Shannon's character, too, speculating on her thoughts and motivations, and diving into everyone's heads, and I'm so excited to see it all develop!!

5. Which WIP do you find the most intimidating to write? Why?

I think it's either alive shannon or the cheating fic alive shannon bc I've never written s2/s3 buddie and I wanna get their characters semi-right, and I don't remember a lot of details so I need to get on with my rewatch lol - and also writing Shannon's and Eddie's feelings on their relationship and how it all ended is not easy haha and the cheating fic bc it's so not my thing but a song inspired it and it got stuck in my head and it's happening haha and I hope I'll make it make sense haha

6. Which WIP do you experience the most self-doubt about. Why?

tbh all of them - some more, some less, but there are moments, especially lately, when veeeery often I'm just like: everything I write sucks wtf

7. Which of your WIPs will you seek out a beta/sensitivity reader for? Why?

@giddyupbuck agreed to beta the alive shannon fic, and I spam them with snippets if I'm in doubt and it's sooo helpful fr ily <3 and I'll need alive shannon beta-read bc it's gonna be so long, and I keep changing my mind about things bc of how many ideas I have, so I just need someone else to look at it and tell me if everything makes sense haha - and Ro's helped me so much with some previous fics so they have my full trust with my baby that is the alive shannon fic haha

8. Have any of your WIPs been struck by the curse of writer's block?

all of them at some point lol - a few of these are actually on hold bc of that - I will get back to them tho!

9. Which WIP has your favourite OC? Tell us about them?

as of now there's no ocs in any of these, but we'll see haha

10. Which WIP is the sexiest?

cheating fic and maaaaybe coffee buddie (if I'll ever get back to this one) - no actual smut in my wips yet atm

11. Which WIP is the angstiest?

buddie death cast fic - if you've read 'they both die at the end' you know why lol this is not gonna have a happy ending

12. Which WIP has the best characterisation (in your humble opinion)?

so far I'm loving everyone in alive shannon so I guess let's go with that haha

13. Which WIP has the best scene setting (in your humble opinion)?

oh I am so bad this - but maybe let's say buddie coffee shop au bc i think it's the only one where I put even a little bit of focus on the setting lmao

14. Which WIP have you worked the hardest on?

alive shannon, been thinking about it and making notes for months before I started writing, and I don't think i've ever been this invested in a fic

15. Which WIP do you have the highest expectations for? Why?

alive shannon - - like I said, it's my most precious baby, and I'm so excited to not only write it but read it, and I hope it's gonna be as good as it is in my head, and I hope I'll make the story make sense with Shannon there, but also keeping some important buddie moments from canon hah

16. Do you dream about any of your WIPs?

not sure if i've ever dreamt about a wip, but i do get new ideas in my sleep sometimes lol

17. Do any of your WIPs have particular complexities that your other fics don't?

alive shannon will have switching povs which i rarely do, so it's gonna be a challenge to write three distinct voices - and diving into Shannon's head and feelings and motivations will also definitely be hard

18. Which WIP is the funniest or has the most humour?

I think sick eddie - he's so ridiculously stubborn and difficult istg haha or buddie coffee shop with how fucking awkward buck's being

19. Do any of your WIPs contain outside POVs or a deep dive on a character other than the main ship? How are you finding that process?

yep, once again, alive shannon - it's as much a buddie fic as it is a shannon fic, so it's not exactly outside pov, bc I'm just excited to focus on her equally as much, on how she's settling into their lives, becoming a better mom, being involved in Chris' life - she's gonna have as much focus as buddie sns it's not easy, bc it's alternating povs and once I get stuck in Eddie's head it's hard to leave, but so far it's been fun

20. Tell us one thing we don't know about one or more of your WIPs

uhhh, I think I share like everything lol okay, so maybe: alive shannon will definitely go at least up until s4 and will include Eddie dating Ana 👀 purely bc I want a buddie-shipping Shannon to be like wtf eddie??? also, there will be more than one mcd in the death cast fic and coffee buddie was loosely inspired by a small thing from luke cage lol

no pressure tags: @daffi-990 @fortheloveofbuddie @elvensorceress @gaydiaz @diazass @thebravebitch @silentxxsoul @shortsighted-owl @eddiebabygirldiaz @arthursdent @diazblunt @911onabc @eddiediaztho @housewifebuck @lover-of-mine @gayhoediaz @rogerzsteven @watchyourbuck @hoodie-buck @monsterrae1 @ladydorian05 @forthewolves @honestlydarkprincess @wildlife4life @theotherbuckley @weewootruck @thewolvesof1998 @disasterbuckdiaz @loserdiaz @underwater-ninja-13 @giddyupbuck @hippolotamus @eowon @callaplums @spotsandsocks

#alive shannon is like most of these answers lmao #but i'll talk about this fic at every and all opportunities istg i just love it so much #sorry to annoy y'all with it haha - if anyone doesn't wanna be tagged in only alive shannon stuff just lmk fr #weekend wip game #wip asks #writer asks #wikiangela writes #my wips #fanfic ask game #buddie #buddie wip #the alive shannon fic

[rocketonthemoon]

seahorse au 👀👀

sideguitars asked: seahorse au pls i have so many questions

quite honestly is the kinkest filth I've ever written because unfortunately I had a conversation with a friend about how the supers are aliens and well. it hasn't left me alone for about 2+ years now.

But it has made me do a bunch of research and dare I say world building and trying to figure out what's sexy and what's science and what's sexy science which. As far as writing exercises go is pretty fun not gunna lie

I'll put the snippet/more discussion under a cut to save at least a little face even though there's nothing explicit in this snip

“It’s a dual process - Kryptonians are made to both deliver and receive. The difference in sexes is just…. How many a body can handle at one time.” “How many??” “Well actually - ok.” Kara pauses to close her eyes. Her eyebrows scrunch together in a lopsided way. Lena’s seen this look many times before - usually relating to work or Kara doing something complicated in the cape. But as Kara begins muttering under her breath in her mother tongue, Lena realizes it’s her look of translating something. Something probably rather complex. “When you do math, how often you have to remember to simplify it?” “Literally all the time.” Kara’s answer comes too quickly to be anything but the truth and the pink that dusts her cheeks a moment after simply confirms it. It’s fun, still discovering the vast complexity that is Kara Zor-El.

The idea honestly is to have two chapters: one to do the talking and character exploration, one to do the filth. We'll see if it ever actually sees the light of day but at the moment it is about 2k long which. Is setting up to be one of the longest things I've ever written outside of a school paper.

Also in case it's not obvious I'll just put myself on blast and say that it's straight up "what happens if Kryptonians lay eggs with their partners" and then I looked up how exactly Seahorses do the do and well. Here we are.

#appropriatelystupid #sideguitars #Ask a Rocket #once again I will say it is an incredibly weird thing talking about kink as a transman in a sapphic fandom #so. I'm trusting no one to come at me with pitchforks and torches #also trying to kill the cop in my head so to speak about actually talking about this #nevermind when it comes time to post #Rocket writes a thing

[peaches2217]

Given the sheer number of WIPs I have, I think it's time to start participating in WIP Wednesday. Today, we begin with one I started in late May/early June and still haven't been able to quite piece together! I am DETERMINED to finish this, and maybe posting a snippet here will help kick me into gear with it 😅

Tentative title is To You Who Hung the Moon, but I'm not sure if I'm sticking with it or not.

~~~

Eyes as big and blue as a clear sky stared up at Peach.

She startled, instinctively putting distance between them. “I… I’m so sorry,” she stumbled, pressing a palm against her burning cheek. Impulse had gotten the better of her, and here she was, paying for it immediately. “I didn’t mean to intrude on your personal space.”

Mario just kept staring, and Peach wondered if it was the shock that made him so unabashed, or the combination of pain and healing magic coursing through his system. 

But eventually he grinned, and her heart settled back into its proper place.

“I won’t tell anyone.” His words were slow and a bit slurred, and Peach was somehow relieved, especially as he reached up to touch his forehead. He wasn’t all there. The chances that he’d remember this were slim.

Seeing the way he blushed as he felt the space where she’d placed her impromptu kiss, she wasn’t sure if she truly wanted that or not, but it was undoubtedly for the best.

This was far from the first kiss he’d received since being admitted to the infirmary. It was part of their unspoken system, after all: a kiss to the nose for a job well done, a kiss to the cheek in show of personal gratitude, and a kiss to the forehead for healing and strength. And he’d been receiving plenty of the latter over the past few days, because he was too stubborn for his own good and kept refusing painkillers, assuring the doctors through gritted teeth in a strained voice that he felt PERFECTLY okie-dokie, thank you very much.

(“I can’t bust out of here if I’m too loopy to see past my own nose!” he’d reasoned, tapping his nose in emphasis. “You can’t bust out of here with a broken femur either,” Luigi had fired back, and Mario simply muttered something about wills and ways.)

But this kiss broke tradition. There had been no healing magic behind it, no psychological benefits that he could reap from it in his sleep. No, this kiss had been entirely selfish, conveyed all the things Peach wanted to say but couldn’t quite find the resolve to, not yet.

Thank you for not leaving me.

That thought alone had been swirling about her head every waking moment of the past four days, among a myriad of others. “He’s gonna be okie-dokie, don’t you worry!” Luigi had been quick to say, turning her away from his pale, bruised body swaddled in bandages already soaked red. “Mario, he’s a tough guy, and I’m no good at lying, you know? So if I say he’s gonna be okay, he’s definitely gonna be okay.”

Even while shaken to the very edge of her limit, Peach had been able to tell he was saying that as much for his own sake as hers, so she clasped his hands in hers and promised to help in any way she could.

It hadn’t been Bowser, not this time, and it wasn’t her life he’d nearly given his own for. Peach wasn’t sure if she could live with herself had the circumstances been any different.

“You look so sad,” Mario noted, inadvertently pulling Peach from her brooding. “Do I need to start telling bad jokes again?”

~~~

I've got a few more disjointed sections written out, but that's the longest cohesive section. What do y'all think? Worth reviving?

#peaches screams into the void #peaches' fancy fics #I'm aware that I'm becoming a nuisance rather quickly so please forgive the spam 😅 #I just! haven't written this much in years! and I'm getting carried away as a result #I'll do my best to start tapering it down! on my honor o7 #wip wednesday #mareach #tw blood #tw injury

[sarandipitywrites]

saran's year of writing (2023)

hey y'all! saw a couple posts like this floating around and thought i'd hop on the train, because this year has been WILD for my writing (in a really good way). let's start with the bullet points version and i'll put the details under the cut. here we go:

I JOINED WRITEBLR

shared snippets of my work with other, actual humans!

made friends?!

started (and finished!) draft 2 of Dead Roots, Dark Water

wrote 1 short story for every week in october (that's 5 stories in a month! that's great for me!)

first NaNoWriMo in 10 years (and i finished it!)

drafted and re-drafted The Art of Empty Space

started draft 3 of Dead Roots, Dark Water

details, links to projects, me getting maybe a tad too personal, and those all-important wordcounts under the cut:

I JOINED WRITEBLR

i just realized i only started participating at the beginning of october, but it feels like i've been hanging out with you all the whole year 😅 maybe that means i should cut back a bit? nah...

really though, this year was the year i started taking my writing more seriously (not in a 'gotta get published' kind of way, but in a 'writing makes me happier than anything else and that's enough reason to set aside time and energy for it without feeling hella guilty' kind of way) and seeing you all posting your work and being so positive and encouraging to each other was what helped me get up the nerve to join in. and i can say without a doubt that it's the best choice i've made all year. y'all are such a supportive community and i've never once felt like i was encroaching or didn't belong here (and for me, that's really saying something)

so i guess what i'm getting at is: THANK YOU! i've loved reading your snippets and projects this year, and i'm way more confident in my own than i've ever been 💜 y'all are good peeps

Dead Roots, Dark Water

word count (edited and written): 187,789

that's a lotta words! DRDW is both my longest work wordcount-wise, and the work i've dedicated the most time to... probably ever. and i'm SO happy with it, it's a little concerning (/positive)

DRDW is now on its THIRD draft, and (assuming i don't do a massive re-edit) should be ready to start posting in 2024! *excited screaming* i've never released anything i've written in its entirety (the snippets i've been posting are actually a lot more than i've ever shared before), so this is MASSIVE for me and i'm both excited and terrified! overall, though, it's a very, very good thing

Short Stories

this october, i decided to challenge myself to do several things i don't ever do: write short stories; write them on a timeline; and share them. and i did! i wrote one short story for each week in october, and posted them here. they're far from my best work, and due to the timeline, they never could have been my best, which oddly i think helped make it easier to post them? they were also the first pieces i shared here (or anywhere)! they're not awesome, but i'm proud of them and i'm proud of myself for sharing them

NaNoWriMo and The Art of Empty Space

i've done nano once before, ten years ago. i was in college and had a lot more time then (and a job where i could spend the entire day just writing - i didn't know how good i had it), and even so i remember struggling to reach my word goal. but by the power of writing everything in wingdings so i can't second-guess my word choices, i made it this year! and even though i decided to challenge myself by writing a romance-heavy project (something i've historically avoided because IT'S HARD FOR ME, DAMNIT), i love AES and its characters and that feels fucking awesome.

even though my brain decided to spring a surprise plot restructure on me and now i have to rewrite like half of it. it'll be better for it, though, so it's all good 🥲

What's Next?

my plan for early 2024 is, of course, going to be to work on draft 3 of DRDW with the hope of getting some chapters posted (they are LONG, so i'll probably post to tumblr in chunks and the full, unbroken chapters on Ao3 due to formatting). once that's ready, i'll be able to return my attention to AES and getting draft 1.5 all written up. i've mostly figured out where the plot's going there, so it'll just be writing it up to figure out the gaps. if i'm able to write something for november again next year (which i really hope i will; nano did some great things for AES), it'll probably be one of the other Jak & Daxter fics i have kicking around in my head, because i am Obsessed (and switching it up between working on fanfic and original fic seems to work well for my brain).

i've been not super active here for the last month or so because Real Life Work is kicking my ass, but hopefully that will calm down and i'll be able to do more of what i want: writing wild shit, reading your wild shit, and screaming about it together 💜

good vibes and best wishes to everybody in the new year 🥂

#ayearofwriting #a year of writing #writeblr #2023 #writers on tumblr #saran rambles #the art of empty space #dead roots dark water

[writernopal]

{Nopal's 2023 Writing Round Up}

I will start by saying that 2023 was a pivotal writing year for me because it marked the start of sharing my writing online and starting this blog! With all of that came of course, the formation of my own little community 🥺 I've made so many lovely friends along the way, fallen in love with their characters and stories, and I just feel so privileged and honored to experience the worlds they've created. I'm so glad I took the plunge and met all of you, even if it was really scary at first! Thank you all for being so welcoming, kind, supportive, and for making space in your hearts and days for my silly little characters and their stories 💙 That said, lets take a look at some of my writing highlights from this past year! Throwing this under a cut because it got long (of course it did lol)

{Total Words Written}

160,512 (as of 12/27)

This excludes tumblr posts, miscellaneous notes, and outlines. It includes WIP work (AASOAF 3, M.O.W), WIP adjacent work (AASOAF 2 companion/release material and side stories like Chanterelles), and miscellaneous prose pieces (Pare, Fetch, and Bowl of Brown). I don't have much to observe here other than holy shit that's a lot LOL.

{Longest Chapter}

7043 (AASOAF 3: Axtapor - 16 First Seed)

This chapter is the first battle sequence of AASOAF 3 so it makes sense for it to be the longest so far! This category's runner up is the Part I finale of M.O.W, Halcyon, at 6663 words.

{Shortest Chapter}

638 (AASOAF 3: Mariel - 3 First Seed)

This chapter is a little go between chapter with a tiny bit of whump in the mix. It might get longer after I get to editing it, we'll see! For this one I excluded the prologues of both AASOAF 3 and M.O.W because it kind of felt like cheating otherwise. Both are <300 words.

{Most Loved by the Author}

Some Lines! (Snippet from AASOAF 3: Mariel - 27 Sun's Dawn)

I limited my choices to snippets I'd posted since it felt weird to make a new post and be like that one! I like that one! lol Appropriate content warnings have been listed on that post as, unsurprisingly, it contains body horror who could have guessed lol. The runner up in this category are the cryptic little monologues I wrote leading up to Tierra Madre (linking to the AASOAF 3 masterpost for ease if you want to check out all four pieces!). These link up the overarching story the prologues of each book are telling and hints at how they come into play in AASOAF 3.

{Most Loved by the Readers}

Covenant (AASOAF 3's Prologue)

For this category I excluded meme posts and the like, ranking the winner based on notes that piece received. As for the runner up, its actually a tie! It's between AASOAF 3's WIP Intro and, surprisingly, Lexlar's character intro lol. He would be so proud and flattered that he's more popular than his other Lizardfolk counterparts!

{AASOAF Original Telling vs. AASOAF Canon Telling}

475,524 (OT) | 381,725 (CT)

Now I know this wasn't all done in this year but it felt right to put in here since I'm getting closer and closer to finishing the canon telling of AASOAF with each day that passes so I can't help but look back to where it all started. These word counts include words in each version of the WIP and the dead darlings of each while excluding Fay's discovery writing (120k+), side stories, WIP adjacent work, spin-offs, and oneshots. I'm really not sure if canon AASOAF will surpass original telling but that's because the story back then was a lot of Fay and Wilkes origin story work and the tale of their romance which isn't explored in canon and also includes Mariel and Axtapor's stories. Two reasons for this, Fay and Wilkes getting together all happens before canon begins and because canon focuses primarily on Mariel and Axtapor's romance. In any case, those are some FAT numbers holy mama. Putting this post together was actually the first time I saw them side by side like that.

#2023 writing round up #aasoaf #m.o.w #my writing

[feraltuxedo]

WIP Wednesday Friday: revisiting an old fic.

There are several WIPs I'm working on at the moment, but the one that's been demanding all my attention is something I never thought I'd write: a sequel for my very first fic Never Have I Ever (Been Myself).

Like I'm sure many fic writers' first work, this story has a special place in my heart. It's the thing that motivated me to write, and the story that probably spent the longest time in my head before I actually made the effort to put it into words.

But it's also so clearly a first story. The pacing is clumsy, the plotting very simple, and the prose... actually, I quite like the prose. But were I to write the same fic today, it would likely read very differently.

Never Have I Ever features many of the themes and tropes I return to over and over again in later fics: it's a human rock musician/actor AU playing with age gap and wealth gap dynamics. It's deeply mired in British culture and British pop culture. It's a bit of fluff, a bit of angst, and a guaranteed happy ending.

And, weirdly, I wanted to return to it. So what I've been working on is a long-ish one shot that has BAFTA-winning actor Aziraphale Fell attend his very first rock music festival in order to surprise guitarist Crowley.

Anyway, here's a snippet of pure fluff:

‘Can’t believe you’re actually sleeping in a tent,’ Crowley said, as he lowered himself onto the fleece blanket he’d spread out to cover the crinkly polyester lining. ‘I’ve been reliably informed that’s the thing to do at events such as this.’ Crowley threw his head back in laughter and lifted himself up on his elbows, stretched out like a mermaid on a rock. ‘Have you ever been to a festival before?’ ‘Of course I have!’ ‘Glyndebourne doesn’t count. Nor do the Proms.’ ‘Ah. No, in that case.’ ‘Couldn’t you have booked a hotel room in Shrewsbury or something?’ ‘I could have.’ Crowley didn’t ask why he hadn’t. Ever since they’d met, Aziraphale had been desperate for new experiences. And oh, how he’d indulged him, with an enthusiasm and passion Aziraphale had never possessed, not even when he’d been in his thirties himself. He slipped his wellies off his feet and crouched down next to Crowley. The ground was hard underneath his knees and elbows, despite the fleece blanket, and he let himself be wrapped up in the pointy angles of Crowley’s body instead, which, paradoxically were all the more soothing. ‘You were marvellous on stage, you know that?’ ‘You’ve mentioned it a few times, but it never hurts to hear again.’ ‘You were. Even the people who had no idea who you were were singing along by the end.’ ‘And you?’ ‘I always sing along, you know that.’ ‘Wish I’d seen you.’ ‘I’m glad you didn’t. I meant to surprise you, and I managed, despite the best efforts of your villainous security person.’ ‘Torben’s awesome. D’you know he can open a beer bottle with his eye socket?’ ‘I’m not at all surprised to hear that.’ ‘This is by far the biggest festival we’ve played, like, ever. The last one had us sleeping in tents.’ ‘You’re not sleeping in tents here?’ ‘Oh no, we’re staying in this caravan thing, which is pretty nice. Comfortable. Got to share a bed with Ana but that’s fine. They call it a trailer, though.’ Aziraphale laughed softly into the scintillating warmth of Crowley’s neckline. ‘I’m aware of trailers, my dear. Quite familiar with them, in fact.’ ‘Alright, Mr Hollywood Big Name Film Star.’ Aziraphale sighed and snuggled deeper into Crowley’s arms. He smelled lovely, like herbal shampoo and the cigarette he’d surreptitiously smoked on the walk to the tent. The chatter of people outside merged with the deep rumble of Crowley’s breathing, and the quiet beating of his heart against his chest. And as if this symphony of comfort couldn’t get more perfect, it began to rain. Gentle drops, irregular and insistent, drumming down on the tent above. It was frightfully romantic.

#my writing #current WIP #Good Omens AU #Good Omens

[nattyontherun]

🦷 Is there a chapter, scene, or WIP you're dreading to write (but is necessary to your plot)? Share a snippet or tell us about it!

ohh fun question! i have a bunch of WIPs lying around ngl, though since I've become busy with work, a lot of them I've put on the "back burner" save for like... two. Anyways!

Since ik you follow me mostly for my KKSS fic, we can focus on that!!

When it comes to writing, although I do make "skeletons" of my fics, so a very summarized bullet point list of what I want to happen, I actually plan out chapters as they happen? The minutiae is all very up in the air as far as planning goes, all I know, really, is the ending and the major shakeup's I wanna incorporate.

In the case of To Oblivion, my current (and very definitely LONGEST) WIP in the docket, I kinda have a very specific but ultimately small... anxiousness... towards a scene i've planned for the next chapter, and a much, much broader, definitely more potent dread towards the fic as a whole.

In terms of specifics? I have this scene planned where I'm going to introduce two "new" characters, one of whom will be important to the plot, from a perspective of a canon character I don't actually know (as is, and how to write) that well. I'm not sure that I can pull it off exactly correctly, and my refusal (and really, lack of time) to go cavern crawling through canon to figure things out isn't doing me any favors. Considering I could very much say the same for Sai, and that worked out okay-ish last time? Well, it's an AU anyways so!! I'll figure it out!!!

As for the broader dread... I cannot overstate this: to oblivion is NOT kind. HF is like the best most squeaky clean fixer upper version of this "AU" that i coulda come up with and to oblivion is far and away from that.

I'm gonna be blunt, I have a very certain view of the world and my views reflect very much in the way I write whether I intend it to or not,,,, so I'm kinda leaning into that for this fic, really allowing my thought process to shine through. I'm not interested on making the characters sympathetic so much as believable in how they act and react to the story as it unfolds.

Part of this dread, I'll admit, is simply because I'm not really good at plots? Actually I'm awful at them lmaooo, I don't do the /overarching and makes sense/ sorta narratives, I've just never found the inspiration to go at those so long when all I really wanna do is throw characters at each other so they can cry dramatically about their lives or whatever.

The other part is just that Naruto is a very old IP with a very old fandom and it's because of this that many of us here have a very fixed view of how characters are like, whether that's canon or simply our interpretation of them. I don't think I'm gonna be making a lot of people happy with how I plan to let the story play out - in fact, I restricted the comments from chapter one FOR A REASON! I just... I do not see a world where we finally get to the crux of why I even wrote this fic, and everybody reading will just be fine and dandy with how I make things play out.

If you think that one Shisui-POV fic /Like Stars/ is challenging and frustrating,,,, to oblivion will set your eyes on fire :\

I say this not to scare of readership but I really don't want ppl coming into the fic thinking I'm deadset on a warm, hopeful ending like I was with HF. While we're not heading towards an unhappy or even Bad ending, I just feel like it's important to set the expectation that I wrote this fic not just to challenge myself and the characters but also those who decide to read it to see my perspective of where canon went wrong with the framework of the Uchiha massacre and Konoha's handling of it. It's gonna be very hard on not just Sasuke and Shisui but Kakashi as Hokage, Naruto, Sakura, Shikamaru, Sai and basically everyone who'll end up showing their faces in the fic.

Hopefully it's digestible?????????

#fanfic #ao3 fanfic #kakashi hatake #uchiha shisui #hearthfire verse #sasuke uchiha #shisui uchiha #META? #ish #answering your writer-y questions #this is long and winded and I'm sorry for blabbing so much #to oblivion #that one ambitious fic where le writer attempts #read: ATTEMPTS #to address the uchiha massacre #and konoha's handling of it #in a post chapter 698 world #like a FOOL

[theresawritesstuff]

1, 6, 7, and 9 about your current fave fic of yours (I'm not familiar with what midgexlenny is, but tell me about it if you want to!)

Lol oh I do sometimes feel bad for my poor Sherlolly mutuals putting up with me while I lose it over a different ship ❤️ they're different but the venn diagram of pairings does overlap in places.

First off, this is Midge and Lenny from Amy Sherman Palladino's The Marvelous Mrs Maisel. They're two foul mouthed stand up comedians in the late 1950s/early 1960s and they're soulmates.

If you enjoy Gilmore Girls level fast paced dialogue but with more f bombs and so so so many pretty dresses I definitely recommend at least bits of the show.

Being that Lenny is a fictionalized version of real life comedian Lenny Bruce (originally intended to only appear in the pilot but they brought him back as part of the show because the chemistry was just too good. The actors are friends in real life and the joy in working together comes through in some really beautiful performances) the final canon of the show was a bit handcuffed on just how far the creators decided they could let the ship sail but that's where the fanfic comes in 😂

Which brings me to my fic Guess Who's Coming to Yom Kippur!

*What is your favorite thing about this fic?*

This was my first dive into writing for this fandom and it has been so much fun. Truly delightful! So many things I've enjoyed with this one. But my favorite thing I think is that it really is an ensemble piece. The characters of the show are all very nuanced, often delightfully flawed, sometimes wacky individuals and I love giving them all a seat at the table and getting to know them. Sometimes quite literally within the fic (it centers around a big family dinner for several chapters). I've had to think of scenes cinematically and it's stretched my dialogue writing in a really enjoyable way. There's at least one scene I wrote visualizing it as a long tracking shot with characters moving in and out, very high energy and lovingly chaotic. It's a fic that has a lot to do with family both found and blood related and how love can show up and show through in a lot of humorous ways.

*Were there any alternative versions of this fic?*

Yes! I originally came up with the idea a season prior to my actually getting around to writing it (wrote it after watching season 4, thought of it watching season 3). The original vague concept for it was much shorter and ended with Midge and Lenny in more of an ambiguous but hopeful "maybe someday" where as the current fic has them very much endgame. And I'm quite happy with that. I feel like I discover more about the story and the characters the longer I work on it. I'm eventually going to write a sequel because I'm having so much fun (another first for me!)

*Favorite line of narration/ Favorite bit of dialogue*

So this fic is currently sitting at over 62k words and counting (it comes with trying to emulate Amy Sherman Palladino levels of dialogue) Easily the longest thing I've written 😅😅😅 I'm not sure I could pick any specific favorites without reading through the whole thing again. And maybe not even then. There's a lot of moments I'm very fond of. Though most probably require more context than would make it easy to share. I'll include a snippet of the tracking shot arrival scene I mentioned since that doesn't require a ton of context from the show other than knowing the names mostly.

In this bit they're arriving at a party hosted by Midge's ex in-laws and Lenny is meeting her older brother Noah and his wife Astrid for the first time. Esther is Midge's two year old daughter. Noah is canonically a secret agent. Lenny is known for getting arrested for things he says in his stand up (a proponent of free speech in a red scare era).

They arrived at the Maisel residence as dusk began to settle in over the sleepy suburb.

"Hi everyone! Sorry we're late. Esther needed to make a pit stop," Midge called out as they let themselves through the front door.

"Us too! We just got in," Noah said from somewhere deeper in the house.

Midge set the kids loose and made her way towards the kitchen. "Mama, Shirley, what can I help with? Oh, Esther sweetie, I don't think Grandma wants you touching that."

"Hi Midge," Astrid greeted, coming in holding little Chaim.

"Hey Astrid! One second," Midge called over her shoulder, rushing to corral Esther away from the more breakable tchotkes. "Esther. Esther put that down!"

Lenny smiled, collecting the kids discarded shoes into a pile by the door.

"Oh hi! You must be Midge's friend." Astrid gave him a welcoming smile.

"Lenny," he supplied.

"Lenny. So nice to meet you. I'm Astrid. This is Chaim." She held her son out for him to hold, passing him off. "Would you mind?"

"Oh I–" Lenny took Chaim in hand on reflex as Astrid didn't wait for a yes or no.

"Thanks." 

She gave him another quick smile before dashing out the front door and wretching over the porch rail.

Lenny held Chaim at arms length, both too stunned by the transfer to know how to proceed. 

"Hello…" he attempted, looking the child in the eye.

"Astrid, honey?" Midge's brother's lanky limbs carried him into the foyer in search of his wife.

Midge returned with a rescued porcelain figurine in hand. "Hey Noah, how was traffic–oh my god."

She stepped out immediately to check on Astrid the moment she saw her, leaving Lenny with Noah and his offspring.

"Yours, I believe," Lenny said finally, handing Chaim to Noah.

"Yeah…" Noah replied, taking his son while glancing after his wife and sister in concern.

The two men stared each other down for a moment, neither one quite sure how to react to the other.

"I'm Lenny."

"I know."

#Writer things #Fic asks #Thanks for letting me ramble!

[neurodivenport]

i'm gonna talk about the oc in this post because i love her dearly.. one of the ocs i've had the longest & has been through so many changes lmao. originally an x-men oc but once i got out of that phase i still loved her & wanted to adapt her to a different media. she’s currently pretty multi-verse and i basically just insert her into like… every superhero related fanbase i get fixated on

tw for shitty parental relationships & talks of trauma!!

her name is august riley. she’s had sooo many fcs over time but her current one is ruby campbell!! she might be the permanent one since i’ve been stuck on her for like a year and a half lmao

she’s a heroine with empathetic & telepathic abilities.

she was born into a family that had little to no experience with superpowered people, so they never realized she was one until later in her life. since her powers weren’t necessarily flashy, she didn’t realize it herself and figured the constant influx of other people’s emotions and thoughts was just kind of normal.

this snippet i posted a while ago was actually from her character study i did:

over time, when she expressed how she could really feel how others felt, really get into their heads, and nobody else had the same experience- she realized she might be different. a teacher at her elementary school was the only one to really take her aside and talk to her about it. she never had a good relationship with her parents, so she begged her not to tell them, but she did anyway.

since she grew up in a very small town, they all immediately saw her as something dangerous. august was taken in for various scientific valuations, many that left her scarred physically and emotionally afterwards. once they decided this literal child wasn’t a threat, she was sent back to continue her education.

(i feel like i should put… a trigger warning here, but idk what kind i would put?)

after that, she had to move towns and schools, traveling far away from her cultivated life & friends. her parents never really saw her the same, abandoning her emotionally. think matilda type parenting.

somewhere in her highschool years she experienced some sexual trauma but i’m not gonna fully get into that xoxo

since everyone thinks so differently- tried to get a hold on other people’s thoughts and emotions by drawing out everything she saw in a quest to decipher them. it sometimes worked, but more often than not it didn’t. her notebooks became filled with other people’s thoughts.

once she was old enough to move out, she left town, moving to a bigger city, hoping that she would be understood better and not regarded as a freak.

since she was still haunted by the memory of her bully, and her parents, she kept a solitary life, rarely connecting with friends and only keeping few by her side for fear they’d end up like he did. she kept making art, becoming a painter with a fairly big online following.

how i think she fits into the ef universe, she lives in an apartment underneath the force’s. after they move in, she keeps seeing the same dreams over and over, and never her own.

after some investigating she realized her dreams are other peoples. olivers dreams about her mother, skylar’s about her home planet, and chase and bree’s trauma nightmares.

when she starts seeing them around the building, she starts recognizing them from her dreams and becomes interested in why its them that keeps showing up.

stuff happens from there that i’m still working out ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

here’s some fun factz about her!!

she doesn’t really have a sexuality label, she takes people just as they come.

she has ptsd + ocd, most of her rituals surrounding numbers and symmetry

despite the fact that she tries to stay solitary, she feels super deeply, and gets very emotionally attached pretty fast. she’s also a hopeless romantic from the books she grew up reading, but is always too scared to actually find romance herself.

is a pretty big insomniac, because she feels insanely guilty about accidentally spying on other people’s dreams constantly

undiagnosed autistic. tbh all of my ocs are on the spectrum LMAO

she also feels very guilty and is nervous about accidentally reading people’s minds without their consent, so she usually keeps headphones in with music playing to try and drown it out

she’s spent so much time with herself that she now has full control over her abilities, but that control tends to waver depending on her own emotions

can probably recite literally any book word for word. huge bookworm. absolute nerd.

dissociates a lot

she loves great danes. adores em. 99% of her camera roll are great dane memes

she needs glasses (near sighted) but literally always forgets them

is amazing at cooking. she always had to cook for herself as a kid, might as well get fancy with it

loves cooking shows too, but gets uncomfortably angry over them sometimes

powers list!!

telepathy

thought manipulation

dream seeking

psychometry

empathy

dowsing

#ocs #august

[saltydumplings]

hi hii! do you have any favorite writers on tumblr? cause i would like to discover more excellent writings ^^

Oh God, I'm so embarrassed to answer this because I know that I'm lacking horribly when it comes to knowledge of other writers which aren't ones you will absolutely already know. I've been meaning to branch out more for ages but simply haven't gotten around to it yet - OOP.

So, because my answer is so limited - I literally can only think of three right now off the top of my head, God why do I have the memory of a goldfish? - I'm also going to include my favourite pieces of writing from each of them:

@epiclamer - they recently posted a part two to their snippet Putting on a suit and I ATE IT UP LIKE BREAKFAST ON A SUNDAY MORNING - UNHOLY MOTHER OF SATAN, IT WAS SO GOOD. THE SPICE IS NICE, YES, YES, AND THEY HAVE MUCH SPICE EHEHEHEHEH - I know this well: their cell is adjacent to mine in horny jail >:D

@save-the-villainous-cat - I think this was the first writing blog I came across when looking into the heroxvillain tag for the first time. Their Flirty hero x Shy villain /w gadgets is just AKDCWHIBCDWHBJCDWBKJ. No, I will not go into more detail. It has four parts and I have re-read them all multiple times - I am so soft when it comes to villains with gadgets, YOU DON'T UNDERSTAND.

@some-messed-up-writing-for-you - I thought they were solely a prompt blog for the longest time because I'm a dumbass and only just discovered their masterlist like a month ago. If you follow them, you probably know exactly what piece of writing I am about to bring up: Lucky Number 13, I just - AHHHHHHHHH. I know it's updating soon too and I'm just sat here practically FROTHING AT THE MOUTH waiting for them to post the next part.

So, yeah, that's me and my embarrassingly short list of writers to suggest to you. As such I would beg encourage other people to reblog and add more suggestions because I'm sure they will be far more helpful than I am lmaooo.

[angelbaby-fics]

I posted 1,389 times in 2022

That's 1,389 more posts than 2021!

582 posts created (42%)

807 posts reblogged (58%)

Blogs I reblogged the most:

@angelbaby-fics

@stevesbestgirl

@wndalovebot

@sunkissedbucky

I tagged 908 of my posts in 2022

Only 35% of my posts had no tags

#c - 332 posts

#♡ - 103 posts

#little!reader - 51 posts

#chloe's fic - 45 posts

#bucky x little!reader - 34 posts

#agere fic - 31 posts

#friends - 31 posts

#stucky x little!reader - 30 posts

#queue 🧸 - 27 posts

#steve x little! reader - 20 posts

Longest Tag: 126 characters

#especially because executive dysfunction sometimes makes it hard to get things done so i imagine steve & bucky helping me ☺️☺️

My Top Posts in 2022:

#5

Hii🥺💗 I had a daddy!stucky request where bucky loses the reader’s favourite stuffie and won’t stop crying until steve gets her a new bucky bear stuffie

Daddy Cat

Summary: Bucky loses your favorite stuffy while on a mission, but Steve knows just how to fix it.

Word count: 1470

Pairing: Daddy!Stucky x Little!Reader (fem language used)

A/N: Thank you so much for this request, its so cute!! 🥰💕 I changed it up just a little bit to fit an idea I've had since I first saw that cat picture lol. Special thanks to @haleybr for helping me find it!! Also I was feeling kind of artistic today so I made a little moodboard to go with the fic, I hope you guys like it 💕🐈

“Okay, bye bye Bubba, be a good little kitty! I’m gonna miss you so much!!” You kissed the plush grey kitten on its hard plastic nose before shoving it to the bottom of Bucky’s backpack, under the clothes so he could be cushioned on his trip. This was a little tradition of yours: every time one of your daddies had to go on a mission, you’d sneak a stuffy into their bag to keep them company while they’re away from you. You zipped the backpack up and put it back in its place near the door. Just then, Bucky entered the room, and you knew what that meant.

“Oh, pumpkin, you know I hate to leave you.” Bucky said, lifting you up and propping you on his left hip. You nuzzled into his shoulder while he rubbed your back, kissing you on the head before setting you back down.

“I miss you already.” You whispered shyly, looking down at your socks.

“I’m not even out the door yet, doll, you love me that much?” Bucky laughed, tousling your hair.

You smiled and jumped up to your tippy-toes to give Bucky a kiss on the cheek. Steve joined the two of you at the door, taking you in his arms as he knew goodbyes were always hard. With you in his arms, he leaned over to Bucky, the three of you embracing for what felt like too short of a moment before Bucky said his final goodbyes and headed out the door.

“Okay, baby, what are we gonna do today?” Steve asked, turning to you. Your brain still focussed on missing your daddy, you only shrugged your shoulders.

“Well, how about this?” Steve carried you to his room where he picked up a bag before walking you back to the living room, setting both you and the bag on a mat on the floor. “Go ahead, honey.” He motioned towards the bag.

You leaned over, peeking in to reveal a massive set of new Play Doh colors and plastic accessories. You squealed with delight, immediately getting started building a little farm while Steve watched with pride.

Hours passed, Steve reminding you to put your Play Doh away after a while so it wouldn’t dry out. He made you lunch and you curled up on the couch to watch some cartoons as the day went on, until it was evening, and Bucky was calling to say goodnight. He spoke to Steve first, telling him how the mission was going so far, while you eagerly leaned over, trying to hear your daddy’s voice. You caught snippets of the conversation through Steve’s replies, vaguely aware that Bucky was mad about something, but nothing big enough for you to get worried. Finally, it was your turn, and Steve passed the phone to you.

“Hey babydoll!” “DADDY!!” You shouted into the phone

You spoke for a few minutes, telling Bucky all about the Play Doh farm you’d made and the pasta Steve made for lunch before finally asking the question that had been weighing on your mind.

“How’s Bubba?”

Bucky hesitated for a moment before answering.

“Oh he’s good, baby!”

“Can I say goodnight to him?” “Uhh, well he already fell asleep! He was so tired from helping me out today!”

“Okay… Well, give him a kiss for me and make sure he doesn’t have bad dreams!” You said, not wanting to sound too disappointed that your favorite stuffy had fallen asleep without you.

“Of course, babydoll, and you give papa a kiss for me too, okay?” “Okay daddy, I love you.”

“I love you too, angel. I can’t wait to see you when I get home tomorrow!”

You handed the phone back to Steve who said his goodbyes before hanging up the phone and wrapping his arm around you.

“Alright baby, how about a special treat for tonight. Do you wanna order pizza?”

“Yes yes yes!” You jumped off the couch, bouncing and clapping your hands while Steve laughed and started dialing the delivery number.

With the sun fully down and your tummy full of pizza, Steve carried your exhausted self into his and Bucky’s room, knowing you preferred to sleep there when one of them was gone. As soon as you hit the soft mattress, you curled into Bucky’s pillow, inhaling his smell as you felt Steve crawl under the covers behind you and rubbing your back soothingly as you drifted off to sleep.

You jumped up out of bed when you heard Bucky’s key in the lock of the door, nearly knocking him over with your hug as he walked into the home.

“WELCOME HOME DADDY!!! Did you have fun?” You asked, laughing as he picked you up and spun you around.

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772 notes - Posted February 9, 2022

#4

reader being in little space and being so i love with her new toy but bucky just got a fresh hair cut and new Cologne new clothes new everything and reader is so stunned she slowly walks on to him grabs his face and says something like “so pretty dada” like a disney prince and just keep staring at him for the rest of the day/week 🥺💋 (love your work btw)

Like A Prince

Summary: Bucky gets a haircut and you can't stop staring

Word count: 850

Pairing: Daddy!Bucky x Little!Reader (fem language used)

A/N: I love this request so much! I've included some pictures under the cut of how I imagined his hair looking before and after while I was writing! I"m quite partial to his tfatws look 🥰 This takes place (as all my fics do) in a universe where littles are commonplace & accepted in society! Also, I’ve taken to nicknaming Bucky “buba” when in littlespace… kind of just a baby-fied way of saying his name... Bucky Barnes, get it?? Hopefully you guys like that haha 💕

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793 notes - Posted February 4, 2022

#3

Hi! I was wondering if I could send in a request???

Here it is: A very sleepy r. Trouble waking baby up from naps. Especially mornings. Just curls back up and ignores everyone. Half asleep during entire morning routine and nodding off at breakfast with like mouth full or face in the food idk. Definitely not self projecting w this lol. Steve Bucky or both idrc

Thank you if you decide to do it!! This is my first time requesting to you! 💗💗🥰🧸

Sleepyhead

Word Count: 750

Pairing: Daddy!Stucky x Little!Reader (fem terms used)

A/N: omg this was almost hard to write because i had SO much coffee today i am bouncing off the walls lol 😝 but steve & bucky are so cozy i wish i could fall asleep with them lol i think i'd have the most relaxed sleep of my life 😌🛌

“Wakey wakey, baby!”

Steve swiped his thumb across your forehead, attempting to gently rouse you from sleep as Bucky threw the curtains open. The morning sunlight hitting your face made you turn out of Steve’s grasp and into the nest of blankets, pillows, and stuffies you’d gathered up during the night. You smiled as you inhaled the lingering scent of the lavender mist that your daddies sprayed over your pillowcases before bed. With the light of the sun now out of your face but the warmth of it filling the room, you began to slowly drift away back into slumber.

Until Steve pulled the blanket off you.

“Come on, honey, rise and shine.” He whispered, still trying to coax you out of sleep as opposed to forcing you.

“Mmmmmnnnnoooooooooo…” You mumbled into the pillow, kicking your legs around, trying to find any warmth you could on the bedsheet.

Bucky came to join Steve at the side of your bed, laying his left hand across your back. The cold touch of the metal made your eyes pop open, and you squinted and blinked a few times before finally turning around with a stretch and a yawn to face your two daddies. “Ooh, big stretch baby!” Bucky said, which made you giggle a little bit.

Steve leaned towards you, the tip of his nose brushing yours which caused you to go crosseyed and giggle some more.

“Are you ready for breakfast babydoll?” He asked.

“Mmmaybe…” You mumbled, your eyelids starting to droop a little again.

“What if I told you it's pancakes with chocolate chips and a cherry on top?” He bargained, perking you up a bit more.

“And whipped cream and chocolate syrup?”

Steve took in a sharp breath. “Ohh, I don’t know about all that. How about if you get dressed by yourself, you can pick one or the other?”

You weighed your options before ultimately shaking your head. You decided the extra toppings simply weren’t worth the effort of getting out of your comfy pajamas. Steve laughed, somewhat surprised at your decision but not wanting to fight it. He knew you had a sweet tooth and besides, he didn’t really want you to have that much sugar first thing in the morning.

“You want me to carry you too?” Steve asked, sensing you were a little smaller in your tired state.

You nodded with a smile, your eyes falling closed again as you felt Steve’s strong arms lifting you out of the comfort of the bed. You latched your limbs around his large frame, soaking up his warmth and his comforting scent. You’d almost fallen back asleep when he let you down on the dining chair. Bucky set a stack of pancakes on the placemat in front of you and kissed your head.

“Here you are, your highness. Daddy’s famous chocolate pancakes!” He said with a grin.

You picked up the plastic fork and began to dig in, a chocolate chip melting on your tongue as you sighed happily.

“I’m gonna go get your clothes out, okay sleepyhead?” Steve asked, and you nodded, not even bothering to look over at him.

The mix of the warm and sweet breakfast, Steve’s kiss to your cheek before he left towards your bedroom, the soft jazz music Bucky had playing over the speakers, and your warm footie pajamas still had you ensnared in sleep, even as you tried to eat your breakfast. Bucky was cleaning up the kitchen when he called out to you.

“How are they, bub? I added some chocolate syrup anyway, don’t tell papa okay?” He asked, but there was no answer.

Bucky turned around to find you with your head resting on the dining table, strands of your hair strewn across the plate, a snore softly escaping your parted lips. Bucky frowned just as Steve walked back into the room.

“Honey, I think somethings wrong. She fell back asleep, I don’t know why!” Bucky said with concern.

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923 notes - Posted February 19, 2022

#2

stucky x little!reader

What if during the night someone breaks into their home…daddies were up anyway in the bedroom with little one that was sleeping in their bed. but when they hear the commotion downstairs, it wakes up little one and she starts tearing up because she’s scared….but one of the daddies goes to call back up while the other one stays behind to calm little one down…

You can do really whatever you want with this story 🤍

Safe Room

Word Count: 2k

Pairing: Mob!Stucky x Little!Reader

Warning: Slightly darker than my usual fics due to the mob AU! Nothing too scary I hope!!

A/N: Sorry I changed it up a little!! :O if you want something closer to your original request I’d be happy to write it!! This is just what came to me while I was writing so I went with it lol <3 I'm very excited to see The Gray Man soon and it inspired me to try writing some Mob!Stucky, a trope I love but have never written before!! Also the paci is a reference one I just bought from @princeminnow and I highly recommend you guys check out his blog! Anyways, I hope you all enjoy!!

You had your own bedroom, painted your favorite color with a big comfy bed and lots of blankets. Shelves lined the walls, filled to the brim with stuffies and toys, as well as your ever expanding collection of little gear. The closet doors almost couldn’t close over the amount of both practical clothing and dress up costumes you had. Despite all this, however, your bedroom was not your favorite room in the house. It’s not that you weren’t thankful or that you didn’t like it - you loved it after all! But if you got to choose, you’d spend every moment you could in Steve and Bucky’s room, engulfed in their scent and aura. 

That's where you found yourself on this particular night, one hand tangled up in Bucky’s fingers, the other around your stuffy. You hadn’t meant to fall asleep there, only meaning to get some evening cuddles while Bucky read his book, but when your eyes started to feel heavy, you didn’t fight it. Your mouth hung open, having fallen asleep without a paci, and Bucky didn’t want to risk waking you by getting up to get you one. Besides, Steve would be home any minute now, and not only could he go retrieve a pacifier for you, but would also get the treat of seeing you curled up with Bucky. He needed it after the day he’d had. 

Bucky heard Steve unlock the door and hoped he’d enter quietly, but when the closing of the door was followed by a harshly whispered curse word, Bucky immediately knew something was wrong. He heard Steve climb the stairs, two or three at a time, as fast as he could towards the bedroom. Steve didn’t even have time to take in the adorable sight in front of him, nor Bucky the time to ask Steve what was wrong. Steve scooped you up as gently as he could, hoping not to wake you. If the change in position didn’t wake you, he feared his rapid heartbeat or the quake in his voice would.

“Someone’s in the house.” He said quietly, hoping to convey the urgency of the situation to Bucky as quickly as possible. “We need to get her to the safe room now.”

Bucky nodded, immediately getting up out of bed and crossing the room to the closet where he kept some weapons. 

“You take her, keep her calm. I’ll take care of this.” Bucky said in his stubborn way.

“No, they already know I’m here, they don’t need to know anyone else is home.” Steve replied, trying to hand you to Bucky.

“I’m not letting you face this alone.”

“We can’t leave her alone!” Steve countered, knowing Bucky couldn’t argue with that.

Bucky took you from Steve’s arms, grateful that you hadn’t woken up in all the commotion yet.

Then a crash came from downstairs. Your face scrunched up as you debated whether the noise was worth waking up over, but another curse word from Steve’s lips made your eyes shoot open. 

“Daddy what?” You muttered, voice heavy with sleep. 

“Shhh angel, everything’s alright,” Steve whispered to you, “just go back to sleep babydoll.” 

You wrapped your arms around his neck, clinging onto him as the commotion downstairs continued.

“Daddy what’s goin on?!” You cried, starting to panic.

Bucky and Steve exchanged a glance.

“Take her. I’ve got this.” Bucky said, coldly and quietly so as to express his urgency to Steve without scaring you further. Steve nodded as Bucky got dressed, hiding a gun in his waistband.

“Hey honeybear, we’re gonna go on a little late night adventure, okay? But you gotta stay really quiet and be a good girl for Daddy, alright?”

You knew Steve well enough to know that he was trying his hardest. Even though he protected you from the truth, the big part of your brain knew that your daddies dealt with dangerous people. Even though they kept their business as far from you, their little girl, as they could, you still noticed every time one of them came home with a black eye or blood on their shoe. You learned it was best not to question it. And even though Steve focused every cell in his body to keep you calm, you knew even in your sleepy little state that whatever was going on was very, very bad. 

You stayed quiet, just as Steve commanded, but you couldn’t stop the tears filling your eyes and dripping down your face. You were too scared to even sniffle as Steve ran through the halls of your big house, pressing you into his chest so hard it almost hurt. Steve stopped at a bookshelf, in which room you couldn’t tell as all the lights in the home had been turned off. He checked his surroundings to make sure the two of you hadn’t been followed before tugging on the edge of a book and pulling the hinged bookcase away from the wall. He hurried inside with one arm holding you to him and the other shutting the secret door as quietly as possible. Once he heard it latch, he pressed a code into the number pad on the wall and continued through the snaking hidden hallways of the house. He reached a sturdy locked door, punched in the code for that one as well, and once inside, attempted to set you down. But you weren’t having that. 

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1,029 notes - Posted July 14, 2022

My #1 post of 2022

Eddie My Love

Word Count: 680

Pairing: CG!Eddie Munson x Little!Reader

Summary: When everything is too much, Eddie will always be there to help you.

A/N: This is kind of rushed & I'm half asleep but I still really wanted to get some Eddie fluff out there before midnight tonight.... just in case 😭😭 No matter what happens, he's already such a beloved comfort character for me so I was still really happy to write this for him. Even though its pretty short I promise I'll have more Eddie fics in the pretty near future! 😄💕🦇

Your hands gripped tight on the door handle, knuckles bracing against skin as you held on for dear life. Even if you had the courage to complain, the most trained ear wouldn’t be able to hear you over the heavy rock music vibrating through the van. Eddie peeled out of the school parking lot, nearly tipping over as he took the turn towards his trailer. You squeezed your eyes shut; you normally didn’t have a problem with the reckless way Eddie drove, but the smaller you regressed, the scarier everything seemed. 

As the van screeched to a halt at an intersection, Eddie took a moment to admire you, just as he did hundreds of times a day. When he saw your terrified face, his heart sank. He kicked himself mentally for not realizing sooner that you were little, and he immediately slammed a hand down on the stereo button to quiet the music. He should have known you were having a bad day, he should have noticed the signs, but he was riding on the high of a good session at Hellfire and your mood shift just didn’t register to him. In the newfound silence of the car, he could hear your labored breaths as you tried to calm yourself down. No more; that was his job now. His calloused hand reached out to yours. 

“Shh baby, it’s okay. Shhh…” He whispered, leaning over to stroke your hand and relax the muscles that were still holding fast to the door. 

The cold sensation of his rings against your skin was just enough to distract you from your fear. You began to fiddle with one, an angry pig that you thought was more cute than intimidating, twisting it around and around Eddie’s slender finger. 

“Do you wanna wear it?” He asked, and you nodded. He slid it off his finger onto yours and you quickly resumed your stimming. Your breathing slowed. “Hey, yeah, that's it baby. You’re okay now, I promise. I’m gonna drive real careful back home, okay?” And you nodded again. 

The light had long since turned green, but Hawkins was a small enough town that no cars were waiting behind you. True to his word, Eddie slowly pressed the gas pedal and drove you to his trailer, even staying below the speed limit and taking all the turns as carefully as he could. When he pulled into his parking spot, he did it ever so slowly so as not to jerk you around. He put the vehicle in park and unstrapped his seatbelt, hopping out and jogging over to your door. Without needing to be asked, he unbuckled your seatbelt and took you in his arms, helping you onto the ground. He walked you to the door of the trailer, fishing his key out of his jacket pocket and unlocking it with one hand, the other gripping yours nearly as tightly as you’d been clutching the car door.

When you reached his room at the end of the trailer, he let go of your hand, and already you missed his touch. But he was only gone for a moment, having to let you go so he could get the shoebox out from under his bed, the shoebox that contained your little gear. A pacifier, a big thick blanket, and a soft but matted teddy bear. It had been Eddie’s when he was a kid, protecting him from nightmares and bullies, and now he trusted the bear to watch over you too. He handed it to you, then offered the paci which you took, and then wrapped the blanket over your shoulders. Your eyes drooped, already exhausted from your meltdown and the long day leading up to it. Eddie sat on the bed and patted the spot next to him. You wasted no time, instantly positioning yourself in that familiar embrace, his scent of hairspray and stale smoke calming every nerve in your body. You knew it in your heart, as long as you had your Eddie, as long as you had your love, everything was okay.

1,041 notes - Posted June 30, 2022

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